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#its dark fantasy... I think that's the name of the genre. it really its more dark fantasy then anything

anim-ttrpgs · 2 days

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An absolutely incredible review of the beta version of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy by review Willy Muffin on youtube, complete with visuals and actual analysis!

I'm going to also add to this post a comment that I left on the video, offering further insight into the design intentions of the game, though the comment might not make as much sense if you haven't watched the video yet.

Hey, lead writer of Eureka here, first of all I wanna say how good and professional this review is, it’s almost indescribable how it feels to see our project taken so seriously and given real analysis, complete with visuals and everything! We would be super impressed and happy with it even if you didn’t like the game—but luckily it sounds like you loved it hahaha

I’d also like to address a few things throughout the video, not as arguments or rebuttals, just further developer insight for everyone

Re: “Urban Fantasy.” “Urban Fantasy” is basically just another term for “modern fantasy”, just a fantasy story that takes place in the 20th or 21st century and deals with the intersection of contemporary life with the supernatural, and it might be an Americanism, or even a Southern-ism, since it has a lot of connections and origins in the living folklore of New Orleans, so I shouldn’t be surprised it isn’t a term everyone is familiar with. Just think of it as the kind of genre where instead of the vampire living in a secluded scary castle, his name is Phil and he’s your roommate haha. What We Do in the Shadows, Shadowrun, and the World of Darkness games are all some other good examples of “urban fantasy.”

Re: Scooby-Doo. Oh we would LOVE for you to run a Scooby-Doo-like wacky mystery with Eureka. Even though the main tone is dark and gritty and noir, we did intentionally build it so that it could run more lighthearted stuff as well! There’s even a few Scooby-Doo references to be found throughout the text, and if we hit a certain stretch goal on the Kickstarter, we’re going to be adding a bunch of Scooby-gang-inspired traits, including the option to play a Talking Dog!

Re: Combat being the largest section, even larger than Investigation. First of all, that’s kind of an illusion that is the result of the game being unfinished. I have a tendency when I write rules to use really long sentences, overexplain things, repeat myself, etc, and that dramatically bloats the rules text and page count, but that’s why we have an editor! She goes through after the fact and trims most of the fat off my bloated writing style to make it flow smoother and read faster, and take up less space. The PDF that was read for this review has had the Investigation chapter copy-edited (and cut down in size by about 25%!), but the editor hasn’t gotten to the combat chapters yet, so they still have a hugely inflated page count. When she’s done with them, you can expect each combat chapter to also be cut down in size by about 25%, so they won’t be nearly so large a chunk of the book.

Secondly, I’ll explain our reasoning for why the combat chapters and advanced combat rules are such a big chunk of the rules text, it’s intentional design which I will now explain. If anyone still doesn’t agree with that design, that’s fair, and that’s why we made the Basic Combat Rules an option.

The reason that the advanced combat rules are the default, and the reason they exist at all, is because it incentivizes and rewards Investigation. If combat is super deadly, it makes Investigation, snooping, and spying more appealing than kicking down the door and getting your head blown off. But of combat is super deadly, it also needs to be very deep and tactical, because if it’s deadly but shallow, then there’s no player agency. “Combat starts, roll some dice, okay your guy is dead.” That’s no fun. So by adding rules and modifiers for cover/elevation, distance, the difference between a pistol and an assault rifle, etc. we make it so that not only is combat its own high-stakes puzzle, but make it so that when the PCs HAVE to engage in combat, all their investigation can really pay off and save their lives. Spying on a building to find out the number of goons stationed there and how they are armed helps you plan and assess risk, stealing the blueprints to the building helps you know how to get the drop on the goons, and know the best places to attack from so that they are stuck out in the open and you are not, etc. and having rules for those things means that all the PCs’ snooping and planning makes a real mechanical difference in whether they live or die.

That’s just my opinion though, and one of the biggest reasons WHY we decided to write the combat with as much depth as we did.

Anyway, thank you again for this review and analysis of our project, our Kickstarter jumped up by about ten more backers in the evening when this video went up after several days of no new backers, and we have to assume we have this video, and all of you watching and reading this, to thank. You’re really making our dreams come true. :)

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is kickstarting from right now until May 10th! Back it while you still can!

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If you want to try before you buy, you can download a free demo of the prerelease version from our website or our itch.io page!

If you’re interested in a more updated and improved version of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy than the free demo you got from our website, subscribe to our Patreon where we frequently roll our new updates for the prerelease version!

You can also support us on Ko-fi, or by checking out our merchandise!

Join our TTRPG Book Club At the time of writng this, Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is the current game being played in the book club, and anyone who wants to participate in discussion, but can’t afford to make a contribution, will be given the most updated prerelease version for free! Plus it’s just a great place to discuss and play new TTRPGs you might not be able to otherwise!

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

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bvidzsoo · 6 days

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Darkness prevails

᯽ Author: bvidzsoo

᯽ Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

᯽ Warning: suggestive, cursing, violence (lots of it), maiming/marking, extreme possessiveness, manhandling, blood, beheading, death, dubious consent, morally grey subjects (you'll see what I mean, but I promise nothing like that actually happens), let me know if I forgot something cries

᯽ Word count: 25.6k

᯽ Genre: Fantasy, Royal, Dark Romance, Gore

᯽ Summary: King Jeong Yunho, first of his name, was a ruler everybody feared and nobody dared mess with. Anyone who didn't oblige to his laws, suffered the consequences. Perhaps stealing an apple seemed like a misstep that many would've overlooked, but not Jeong Yunho. Go against the laws: get punished, branded, humiliated, forever outcasted by society, and the King himself. Unfortunately, you were way too familiar with the King's tyranny, having been the subject of his torture more than once. But what happens, when once and for all, Prince San, his brother, finally decides to get rid of the cruel monarch? Will you succeed with your mission? Will you kill King Jeong Yunho? Or will he wrap you up even deeper in his sick web of lies and threats.

᯽ A/N: My wrists are about to fall off and my eyes are dry despite the eye drops I'm using, but here it is my lovelies, the first part of the Beyond the Obscure series! Guys...it's dark, I'm sorry, so yeah, take the warnings seriously, I promise I haven't written them very in detail (imo) but they are there. I think this is my darkest work so far (even worse than San's part in my pirate series) and y'all have no idea what I have planned for Seonghwa and Yeosang's part (clawing at the wall because that one will be even worse NAUR). I'd like to point out a few things before you start reading:

∞ Yunho is continuously mentioned as the King in the story or Your Grace

∞ perhaps keeping in mind the interaction between Mingi and the redhead will come in handy for future purposes *wink wonk*

∞ I hope I did a good job with this story, and I'm sorry if it sucks, I really tried to tackle this beast of a piece...and sorry for any mistakes, I always proofread but some just slip past me *sighs*

Enjoy the story and let me know what you thought of it, I'm always so grateful to all the feedback I get!! Taglist is open, so just comment on the post if you're interested in the future parts (check out the series' masterlist too to understand how the series works, thank you!) (divider)

᯽ Taglist: @seonghwaddict @thunderous-wolf @simpforyunsangho @kitten4sannie

─═☆Series M.list☆═─

At such an ungodly hour no lady was supposed to be roaming the streets alone, unguarded, exposed to the horrors of the slums. But some ladies had no other choice but to do so if they wanted to survive, to see tomorrow’s sunrise. Not that there was anything to anticipate or love in the Kingdom of the Fallen, ruled by a ruthless and malicious King, who slayed his people left and right whenever he pleased to do so. And perhaps that’s what ebbed me on to keep on walking, made me straighten my back to the point my muscles were straining as I made sure to become one with the shadows as I passed by the long fallen asleep households, headed towards the outskirts of our well-guarded burgh of Aurora. Don’t let it fool you, despite its name, there was nothing beautiful nor welcoming to this place, only terror, fear, and darkness. Our King made sure of that.

I tried to ignore the trembling of my fingers, but it became harder and harder to do so the closer I got to the well-concealed mansion. Large trees loomed over the gravel pathway that led to its enormous marble stairs, not one light was on inside. One would think the mansion was abandoned, but as soon as you stepped foot inside, its well-maintained state gave away the truth. Perspiration had started gathering on my brows, and I realized that underneath my pricey leather glove the skin of my right hand had started itching, begging to be scratched, but I knew doing so would cause my freshly healed wound to open up again. That wound was something I would have to live with forever, maimed, tainted for life. Marked for a wrong doing that cost the life of my little brother. It was hard not to blame or hate yourself when your sickly brother died in his sleep after you failed showing up for three days, begging and screaming to be let out of the dungeons of the wretched Castle, but my pleas fell to deaf ears, unsurprisingly.

King Jeong Yunho didn’t care about his people, and he never would. Famish and crime were at its peak despite the harsh punishments and executions. Despite the King having ears and eyes everywhere, some people managed to get away, escape unscathed, and one of those people just so happened to be Choi San, the crown prince. He fled the night his brother killed King Choi, aware that he would be next to suffer the same faith as their beloved father if he stood in his older brother’s way. Nobody really knew where Prince San went, but upon seeing his most trusted servant and Royal Guard, Sir Jung Wooyoung, around town, it became obvious that Prince San and Sir Jung were still lurking around. And despite what it seemed like, despite King Jeong being awful and vicious, Prince Choi wasn’t like him. He loved his people, he mourned with his people, he laughed with his people, and he lived for his people. Many hated him for disappearing, thinking he had abandoned us and was letting his older brother do however he wished, but many failed to understand that Prince San was powerless if it came down to a war between the brothers. Prince San didn’t have enough men to fight back against King Jeong’s tyranny. And that’s when I was summoned. Barely a day ago, a black envelope with a crown stamp on it had been slipped in my pouch without me noticing. Having opened it, I was rather surprised to find myself being summoned to the abandoned mansion, which belonged to the Royal family, on the outskirts of the burgh.

And when a royalty summoned you, you showed up without asking questions or making them wait too long. The roads were drenched in darkness, mist surrounding the narrow cobblestone streets, and smog escaped my mouth as little puffs left through my lips, heart beating even faster now that I stood in front of the dark mansion. I never fully showed my face in public, but being well past midnight without another soul out on the streets of Aurora, I offered myself the luxury of breathing in the chilly air of the night. The moon was in waxing crescent, and averting my eyes from it, I stared up at the massive mansion and steeled my nerves, pushing away all the swirling thoughts threatening to turn me back around just to run off in the night, far away from Aurora. But even if I ran, I had nowhere to go. And even if I ran, the King’s men would find me and bring me back. I never had a choice, nor the freedom to indulge in my dreams and wishes. So, I took a deep breath, fixed the sheer scarf around the lower half of my face, and ascended the marble stairs with chills running down my spine due to the biting cold. It felt like it had seeped through my clothes, nagging at my skin, injected straight into my bones. But if I dwelled more on this feeling, I knew it was mostly the fear spreading through my blood system that made me react so strongly. And there was no place for fear tonight.

When I reached my hand out to push the front door of the mansion open, I found it already slightly ajar, beckoning me inside. My heartbeat was loud in my ears as I cautiously ventured inside, closing the heavy door behind myself, needing a second to take in the majesty of the interior of the mansion. The floor and walls alike were covered in white marble, glinting under the moonlight as the large windows had no curtains in the large entrance hall. A sturdy round table sat in the middle of the chamber, a large vase filled to the brim with flowers of all kinds sat on top of the table, in the center of it. There was a sweet scent wafting through the air, and as I ventured further inside, the cold chill present in the entrance hall slowly turned into blush inducing warmth, making me shiver as I finally started feeling my frozen limbs.

I was wandering around mindlessly, having no idea where I was supposed to go as nobody seemed to be waiting for me, my eyes straying to the walls, admiring all the expensive paintings. They were brought from lands far from ours, from a land where life was easier and happier. The Kingdom of Light, much like its name, was ruled by a Queen that loved her nation and thrived to unite the two Kingdoms. However, as long as King Jeong was our monarch, that would never happen. Faint whispers caught my attention as I came towards the end of the hall, a large door separating me from the next room. A huge painting was hung up on the wall to the left of the black door, and my jaw clenched as my eyes fixated on the family portrait, more specifically, on King Jeong Yunho. Despite him looking a lot younger in the photo, the evil glint was still present in his sharp stare, and suddenly the skin of my right hand itched again, prompting me to mindlessly try and scrape at it through the leather glove. But the whispers coming to a sudden halt from inside the room, and the faint yellow glow coming to life through the little gap under the door ripped my attention away from the young King and made me tense up as footsteps neared the door. And then, there was a click and the door was pulled open, an emotionless man, with asymmetrical eyes, stood in front of me, taking me in just as closely as I took him in.

“Sir Jung Wooyoung.” I bowed my head, keeping my eyes on the marble floor until the man made a sound of approval.

“You have arrived,” He said, voice sharp and impassive, “Come inside.”

The door was further pulled open and as Jung Wooyoung stepped aside, I stepped forward, hands clenching into fists as I tried to fight the desperate need to turn around and just run. Far away from here, from the crown prince and his loyal guard, far from Aurora. But the King would always find me, and he’d bring me back, matter not if dead or alive, he’d bring me back.

As the door slammed heavily shut behind me, I fought the need to jump at the loud sound, and instead made eye contact with the crown prince. He sat in a large chair, straight across from me, at a round table. The table was massive and could fit at least twenty men if gathered around it, but now, it was just Prince Choi, Sir Jung, and myself in the room. The blackout curtains were drawn together, its color a blood red, shutting out the gentle moonlight, masking whatever would go down in this room from the celestial. Nobody had to know what would conspire in this room soon.

“Your Highness,” I bowed forward, keeping my eyes on the carpeted floor as a low hum traveled through the otherwise quiet room, “you have called for me.”

“I have, yes.” Prince San’s voice was low, and quiet, his sharp eyes narrowed as I straightened back up. We made eye contact as there was movement behind me, Sir Jung walked past me and came to a stop behind Prince San, placing a hand on the chair’s back, grip tightening instantly, “Do you have any idea why?”

“I do not have the power to assume anything.” I answered, eyes quickly seizing the room I was in. It wasn’t awfully big, like the rest of the mansion, and it was a lot less warm in here. Bookshelves aligned the tall walls behind the prince and his guard, and a comfortable sofa was pushed up against the left wall, drenched in shadows as the candlelight didn’t reach there.

“You may speak freely with me, Miss Hong, I am not my brother.” Prince San said, teeth gritting at the mention of King Jeong, “And I do not wish to be ever like that, which is why I have called you here.”

“Don’t you deem it dangerous, Your Highness, calling me here?” I quirked an eyebrow and walked further inside, approaching the table, “King Jeong knows you are still residing in Aurora, and now you’ve given your location away to a mere civilian.”

“Are you threating the crown prince right now?” Jung Wooyoung’s voice was rough and words biting as he leashed out, vein close to popping on his forehead, eyes ablaze. He looked menacing, especially with the long sword sheathed at his hip, handle hidden by the red wool jacket decorated with golden accents falling over it.

“Wooyoung,” It was strange how soft the prince’s voice became, eyes finding the guard’s, “she’s not the enemy. You don’t have to be so on edge.”

“How do you know?” Sir Jung hissed back, eyes still on me, glaring me down. I gulped, but didn’t look away. I didn’t want them to think I was scared, even if I was.

“Miss Hong,” The prince’s attention was back on me, expression losing its coldness for a second, “May I ask you show us your hand?”

My jaw clenched as I remained silent, heart thumping fast. I wanted to tell him no, that he had no right asking such thing of me, but I couldn’t deny the crown prince’s request. And despite detesting what I had to do, with shaky fingers, I still ripped the leather glove off my hand, breathing hard as I threw the piece of fabric on the table, letting my arms fall limply next to my body. Nobody said anything nor moved for a few seconds, Sir Jung’s gaze hurriedly falling onto my exposed right hand. The room was poorly lit, yet it wasn’t hard to miss the discoloration on the top of my right hand, the skin raw and burgundy despite the long-healed wound. It was just a scar now, yet it remained fresh looking, forever a reminder of who I belonged to.

“You don’t have to trust me,” I found my voice, and perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised to hear myself sounding so cold and harsh, “but you can trust one thing. I, in no universe, serve King Jeong Yunho. And I never will. If the scar isn’t proof enough, send me out to kill him, and I will do it with a smile on my face.”

I didn’t expect any reaction from the two males across from me, and so it surprised me when the two held matching smirks, sharing a quick look before Jung Wooyoung slowly approached me again. My eyes stayed on him, and I flinched as he gingerly grasped my right hand, raising it up. I couldn’t bear looking at the skin, so I looked at Prince San instead.

“I’m sorry for what my brother has done to you.” And his words were sincere, there was pain in Prince San’s eyes, and I knew he was sincere. I don’t know why, but despite Jung Wooyoung’s calloused hands, the way he traced my scar with the tip of his finger gingerly, made me relax a little. If they wanted me dead, they would have killed me the second I approached the front door of the mansion.

“You shouldn’t apologize for something that’s out of your control, Your Highness.” I muttered, looking at Wooyoung alarmed when he pressed his lips against my scar, the warm and plush skin lingering against mine for a second. Nobody has every touched my scar, let alone kissed it. When Sir Jung looked at me, he held the same guilt and pain in his eyes as Prince San. It was overwhelming, and so I ripped my hand out of Sir Jung’s gentle hold, and scurried to wear my glove again. I didn’t need their pity, what’s done is done.

“How many times has that devil seen you?” It was Sir Jung asking this time as he slowly stalked back towards Prince San, stopping next to his chair this time. I didn’t fail to notice the way the crown prince grabbed onto the back of his royal guard’s thigh, thick fingers digging into Sir Jung’s skin. They seemed used to the contact, both unphased, so I averted my gaze from it.

“Twice.” I answered, lowering the sheer black scarf from the lower half of my face, “I always wear my scarf in public.”

“And do you think he’d recognize you if he were to see you again?” Prince San asked, his hand slowly sneaking up towards Sir Jung’s ass. My eyebrows furrowed before I shook my head.

“No, he never got a good look at my face the second time, and I was branded three years ago.” I answered truthfully, “There’s not a world in which the King remembers the faces of those he torments.”

“You’re underestimating my brother,” Prince San’s lips pulled into a sneer, “he’s a sadistic man, Miss Hong, you’d be horrified to find out just how much he remembers and gets off to.”

I gulped, but remained silent as Sir Jung bit his lower lip when Prince San’s hand traveled even further up. There was movement to my left, but when I looked over to the sofa, I couldn’t see anything, so I focused on the males again.

“Are you willing to kill him?” Jung Wooyoung seemed to have gotten tired of going around and not getting to the point as he spat, eyes watching me closely. I didn’t hesitate with my answer.

“Yes.” I hissed, eyes turning steely as Sir Jung just smirked, leaning forward as he placed his hands on the sturdy table.

“Then I, Jung Wooyoung, Royal Guard of the Crown Prince Choi San, third of his name, task you with killing King Jeong Yunho, and ridding this Kingdom of his cruelty and horrors.” Sir Jung’s voice was laced with passion, eyes burning with an insatiable fire as Prince San rose from his seat, his strong physique making Jung Wooyoung look small for the first time.

“I promise you immunity and a respectable life once you’re done with your task. You won’t be suffering any consequences, and I will fulfill your biggest wish.” I chuckled, but it lacked humor as my eyes bore into the prince’s.

“I doubt you can bring back the dead, Your Highness.” Tense silence fell upon us, both looking like they understood what it meant losing someone dear. And if Prince San was being honest, then this would be my way out of Aurora, out of the Kingdom of the Fallen, “I shall proceed with the task, Your Highness, Sir Jung. Give me at least a month.”

“You can take even a year as long as you do your task.” Prince San said with a chuckle, looking like a stone had been lifted off his chest.

“Don’t fail us, Miss Hong.” Sir Jung didn’t let his guard down as easily as the prince, however, and the subtle look he sent my way was threatening. I understood. Failing meant death. But I wouldn’t let that happen.

“I won’t.” My voice was strong and I bowed, out of respect and a way of letting them know that I would be leaving now, I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.

“Take care, and send us a letter if you need anything,” Prince San smiled, just barely, “I will be keeping an eye on you still, just to make sure you’re safe and everything is working out.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” I bowed my head again, and was slightly startled when a girl, who was smaller than myself and frail looking, emerged from the sofa. How did she manage to conceal herself so well? She looked shy as she avoided looking at me, eyes fixated on Sir Jung as she hurried towards him, “I’ll be on my way.”

“Safe travels.” The prince’s voice carried over the faint whispers of Sir Jung as I turned and stalked towards the door, intrigued by the gasp I heard. I gripped the heavy door and as I went to push it open, I dared a glance backwards, finding the girl seated where Prince San had been previously sat, her eyes round as she stared up at a smirking Jung Wooyoung. And Choi San sported the same expression as he walked behind her, hands slowly slipping over her shoulders, towards her chest. I didn’t want to witness something that wasn’t for my eyes, so I hurriedly fled the room and then the mansion altogether, mind a mess as I tried to work out the best plan to approach the King, and kill him. The waxing crescent moon witness to my new turmoil.

The streets of the burgh of Aurora in the daytime were a big contrast compared to its nighttime shenanigans. It was lively and filled with people going on and about their day, trying to catch the last paper at the printing house, buying resources or selling their best products at the market. Despite the wind being harsh today, it didn’t deter people from coming out to bargain, with the occasional fight breaking out in the square, rowdy men desperate to showcase who was most domineering. I remained inconspicuous as I stood behind the stand of a herbal stall, the vendor a very lovely old lady that would let me work for her while my brother was still alive. I rarely came to the market anymore, having found different ways for survival. Perhaps I was dumb for testing my luck day after day, but three years ago, I lost the reason I had been living for. And on that same day I was branded, forever belonging to King Jeong Yunho. I wasn’t afraid of death anymore; it was only a matter of time until it would catch up to me. Stealing and getting caught only resulted in a severed hand, I would still have my other one if King Jeong felt generous that day. But in order to observe the King and follow through with the task Prince San had tasked me with, I needed to be in the most populated areas, areas which the King often frequented. And the market and square were those places. The King would parade around every day with his Royal Guards, surveying the place and taking anything he liked without as much as a ‘thank you’. Everything belonged to him, he could take whatever he pleased without any consequence. It was something we had grown familiar with quite soon after he proclaimed himself the new King of the Kingdom of the Fallen. It was no secret that Jeong Yunho killed his own father to become King much faster, to assert a regime that his father, the late King Choi, would have absolutely hated and refuted. But as long as Prince Choi San was alive, there would always be a glimmer of hope for better times. Times that would perhaps come sooner than expected if I was successful with my mission.

I had been arranging the spearmint when an old lady stopped in front of the stand, leaning on a cane, face wrinkly, her sniffing loud as she stared at all the herbs displayed on the wooden table. It was cold today, yet the old lady lacked a coat that would protect her from the harsh wind. My eyebrows furrowed, and after checking that my black shawl was in place and covering the lower half of my face, I stepped forward.

“Good morning,” I greeted the lady with an easy smile, “How may I help you?”

Her eyes slowly travelled up to my face, and I was greeted with an unfortunate sight. Her eyes were clouded with cataracts, yet they fell perfectly on my own eyes, “Dear one, please help me out a little.”

Her voice was raspy and airy, so I nodded and went around the stand to approach her, the cacophony of the market too loud for her to properly hear me.

“What would you like to buy?” I asked once I have stopped next to the lady, her grey eyes focused on the herbs.

“I’m too old for my own good,” The old lady muttered with a sad chuckle, “my joints aren’t in their best shape. Do you have something to soothe the ache? Something strong and efficient.”

I hummed and glanced at the wooden table, knowing very well what would help ease the old lady’s pain a little, “Nettle will be great for your painful joints, ma’am. Would you like some?”

“Yes, please.” She nodded, eyes falling on me again, “Could you give me five leaves? That wouldn’t be more than two shillings, right?”

“No, it wouldn’t.” I reassured her with a smile as I walked back behind the stand and crouched down to grab a smaller brown parchment roll. I stood and grabbed five leaves as the loudness of the market seemed to get even louder at once, until it slowly started turning into a low murmur, becoming a mere hum. I paid it no mind as I carefully packed the nettle leaves the old lady asked for, slipping in three more without anyone noticing, before I wrapped the parchment up, making sure the leaves wouldn’t slip out, “It’ll be one shilling, ma’am.”

Despite speaking softly, my voice sounded almost too loud in the sinister silence falling upon the market, and it took me a little to realize what was happening. The old lady seemed unfocused as she had turned around, stepping back to the point she was almost pressed up fully against the wooden table of the stand. Nobody moved, nobody blinked, nobody spoke, nobody breathed. My hands clenched into fists and my leather gloves crunched at the motion, almost too loud in the deafening silence. The hooves of the horses were loud against the cobblestones and the crowd parted in the middle, scurrying to make way for the King and his Royal Guards. Despite not wanting to see them, I couldn’t help but turn my head and watch like the rest of the market, as the tall black horse rode at the front, a Friesian, carrying the King proudly on his back. Nobody would’ve been able to guess the horrors caused by the soft featured King, whose cheeks were full and tinged red due to the cold air, lips full and a dark red, eyes rather round than sharp. And yet, the emotionless expression on his face and the constant leer present on his features would make anyone reconsider their perception of the King, cowering in fear as his dark eyes would settle on you, lips pulling up in pleased smugness at the blatant fear displayed by his people. Everybody hated him, yet nobody was brave enough to finally stand up to him.

Four guards followed after him, a man with silver blonde hair and a towering height that matched the King’s following close behind with his own horse on the King’s right side, with his left side being claimed by a long-haired redhead, with eyes so haunting that they always stared right into your soul. Those two were the King’s Royal Guards, always by his side, his right hands. The King went nowhere without the two, and the silver blonde haired man was like a hound, always breathing down the King’s neck, possessive and murderous at the slightest hint of threat. One would think his obsessive behavior was concerning, but he took his job too seriously, having vowed his life to the King a long time ago. The woman wasn’t much better, but she at least was sly and coy about it, always surveying everyone and everything, sensing danger before it would happen.

The King and his guards passed by the herbal stall, and the poor old lady jumped and covered her eyes as she hung her head low, making sure she didn’t look at the King for too long. Nobody dared look at him for more than a few seconds, afraid that he’d misunderstand their curious stare and sentence them to a painful death. It wouldn’t have been the first time. But I wasn’t scared of death nor the King, and I allowed my eyes to follow his form as he came to a halt just a few stands down, where a loose-mouthed man sold jewelry. They were one of the finest you could find at the market, pricey too if you weren’t on good terms with him. I watched as the silver blonde haired guard got off his horse the second the King’s stopped, and hurried to stand next to the tall Friesian as King Jeong released the reigns, turning his head left and right slowly. The redhead followed close behind, stopping mere millimeters behind the tall guard, the two sharing a sharp glance as the male extended his hand to help the King down. The other two older guards remained on their horses, eyes surveying the market as their faces remained emotionless. I glared at the back of the King’s head sharply, his blood red gown decorated with golden accents too bright and contrasting against his otherwise black attire. His black riding breeches were tucked inside his tall riding boots, covering and protecting the King’s calves, reaching almost up to his knees, the fabric of the pants no doubt worth more than everything I’ve ever owned altogether. A thick looking black shirt clung to his broad body tightly, top buttons threatening to pop as the King rolled his shoulders a few times backwards, patting the silver blonde haired man on the back a little forcefully. The guard adorned a coat that reached mid-thigh, colors similar to the King’s, however his was rather black than red and it was adorned with red and golden accents showing his rank, and that he belonged to the Jeong Royal Court. The redhead’s coat reached down to her ankles and had intricate designs of red and golden down the back of the fabric, hair tucked under the coat.

The King moved, and I found my eyes fixating on him again, sneering to myself as he walked towards the vendor with the gemstones and jewelry. My body reacted instantly at the sight of his right hand, memory burned into my skin, quite literally, for the rest of my counted days. The King’s left hand was protected from the cold with a glove that looked like it was a soft material, however, his right hand was bare of such protection. Instead, his right hand was adorned by rings, claws, that I still could feel in my worst nightmares pressing into my skin. They were made of steel, and they were sharp, the jewelry on his fore- and middle finger sharp to the point they could cut your flesh. The ornaments clung to his long fingers like they were his second skin, part of him. The ring on his middle finger adorned a huge ruby, an addition to the piece made by King Jeong himself. His ring finger was decorated by a ring that curved to the side, caging his pinky finger in as well, which was decorated by a piece that could be compared to a miniature spear. The King’s right hand was a weapon in its own, easily able to stab and kill you just with his bare fingers. The ornaments were a family heirloom, one that only the King was allowed to wear, yet they haven’t been this sharp until they fell into the claws of Jeong Yunho. Their intricate design made them beautiful, but they carried too much terror with them for one to appreciate their beauty.

My eyes snapped up from his hand upon hearing his voice, a sound I still had nightmares about, “Chwe, did the gems arrive?”

“Your Grace,” The vendor called Chwe Hansol quickly bowed his head deeply, “yes, the gems have arrived this morning.”

“Perfect.” The King’s lips pulled to the side, the smirk making his whole demeanor more predatory. Despite only being able to see the side of his face, I knew he had a hungry glint in his eyes as the vendor grabbed a small wooden chest and opened it for the King. The redhead had started walking around while still remaining close to the King, inspecting the items the neighboring vendors of Mr. Chwe had. Everyone was tense as the King wordlessly grabbed the gemstones and inspected them from close, face becoming devoid of emotion again, eyebrows pulling into a frown slowly. I was sneering before he spoke up, well-aware that nothing would please the King, no matter how high quality it was.

“You call this a gem?” The King scoffed, irritation lacing his voice as he threw the gemstones back inside the little wooden chest harshly. Nobody would’ve handled the pricey gems like that, but when you had all the power and money in the world, one wouldn’t care, Jeong Yunho certainly didn’t. I couldn’t help the dark expression that crossed my face, eyes boring into the side of the King’s face, wondering suddenly that if I were to throw my dagger straight into his neck, how many more seconds I’d have left on this Earth before his loyal dogs would murder me in cold blood. Scarily, almost as if the silver blonde haired man was a mind reader, his head whipped around and his sharp eyes found mine, small eyes narrowing and making them appear even smaller. His impassive expression would’ve been nerve wrecking to one that appreciated their life, but I didn’t care for my safety. I had nothing left for me in this world anymore. The redhead was still roaming around, commenting at times about the quality of products, and she took a scarf without dropping any shillings to the poor vendor, her face twisting for a second before she fixed it and thanked the redhead for appreciating her merch.

“Your Grace,” Mr. Chwe found his voice, yet it sounded terrified, “These are from the Kingdom of Light, finest of its kind and most sought after—”

“Are you saying that I am stupid and can’t recognize real gemstones?” The King spat, leaning over the stand, his glaring eyes boring into the vendor’s. The man started to shake, and I grit my teeth to stop myself from interfering. If I got killed right now, I would fail the crown prince, and I couldn’t do that.

“No—no, Your Grace!” The vendor exclaimed, shaking his head furiously, “Your Grace knows better than I will ever know! I was merely say—saying what has been relayed to myself as well, Your Grace. I am ashamed of ever suggesting such thing, and I will never show my face around—”

“Now, now,” The King snickered, lips pulled into an amused, yet irritated, smirk, “don’t be a yapping little boy, are you going to cry?”

My jaw clenched and I found myself gripping onto my skirt tightly, breaths coming out shallow as the silver blonde haired man was still staring into my soul, watching my every move. His lips were pulled into a sneer, and I didn’t fail to notice his hand tightening around the handle of his sword.

“N—no, Your Grace.” Mr. Chwe lowered his eyes and shook his head, lips pulled into a thin line as his whole being shook, “Unless it’s what Your Grace wants me to do—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” The King threw his head back and laughed, yet it lacked amusement and was laced with sheer craze, the sound sending shivers down my spine, “You’d cry for your King?”

Mr. Chwe’s head was shaking as he nodded, still staring at the ground. The King suddenly hissed and I almost took off towards the two as his right hand sprung forward, gripping the vendor’s jaw so hard his claws practically tore into his skin. The man’s face contorted in pain, yet he made no sound except the quiet gasp he accidentally let out, “Then cry for me, you pathetic fool.”

The King leered in the vendor’s face, tone laced with venom, eyes wide as Mr. Chwe watched the King stunned. I bit my lower lip as my eyes switched between the King and his royal guard, whose stare would have long killed me if that were possible. I knew what my eyes conveyed, they were laced with pure hatred and disdain, boring into the King’s profile as my hands shook in anger, threatening to bubble over any time. I was playing a dangerous game; I knew the shawl did little to nothing to conceal my raw emotions pulsating through my eyes.

“Bastards like yourself shouldn’t handle gemstones.” The King hissed just as the silver blonde haired man took off, jaw clenched and eyes set on me, ablaze. I have run out of luck, so it seems. But before he could even come close to the stall I was at, the King’s venomous tone turned to a light and almost airy tone.

“Song Mingi.” It wasn’t a question, nor a chastising, yet the guard froze instantly. His eyes never left my face as the King lazily tuned his head, dark eyes falling on his tall guard. The redhead was by the King’s side instantly, probably thinking that her fellow guardian sensed danger, ready to protect her King. The market seemed frozen in time as nobody spoke or moved, wide eyes now switching between the royal guard, Song Mingi, and myself. For a second, my heart skipped a beat thinking that I have been discovered, recognized, my right hand burning under the leather glove. But as the King’s eyes slowly trailed from his guard onto me, there was no sign of recognition on his face. I gulped, not due to nervousness, but because my throat suddenly felt dry, lungs tightening as the King’s dark eyes burned my skin, tearing me apart. The memory was too vivid in my mind despite it happening three years ago, and I realized that even if I tried my best, I wouldn’t be able to mask my hatred towards Jeong Yunho. But perhaps he was so used to that reaction that he didn’t care anymore as a sinister smile suddenly tugged at his red lips, hastily releasing Mr. Chwe, who fell back with a loud gasp. The King slowly stalked towards his loyal guard, yet his eyes never once left my face, amused smirk tugging at his lips. He was amused at the blatant hatred in my eyes, and I had to steel myself to stop the shaking of my hands at the sudden flare of anger I felt coursing through my veins.

“Stand down.” The King hissed in the guard’s ear as he walked past him, sharp claws grazing against the other tall man’s neck, but he didn’t flinch nor react at the contact. My eyes remained on the King as he neared the stand I stood at, the poor old lady gasping and stepping away with a low bow, probably bad for her already hurting and crooked back. I dared say nothing as Jeong Yunho stopped right across me, the table suddenly not enough to put the much-needed space between us. It felt like he had invaded my personal space, dark eyes boring into mine, narrowing into a blazing glare when I didn’t back down. Everyone cowered before the King, and just last minute, to try to make myself seem less suspicious, I finally lowered my eyes at the various herbs on the table, but I refused to bow. The King chuckled, but it sounded more vexed than amused. I didn’t care.

“Mingi,” He called out, voice low and dark, “grab those gemstones for me, will you?”

I didn’t glance up as I heard Mr. Chwe whimper and mutter apologies, a sharp cry leaving his lips. I could only hope the wound the King’s royal guard left wouldn’t be fatal. The King’s gloved hand suddenly entered my vision as he started touching the herbs displayed on the table, humming lowly in the back of the throat. I followed his hand with my eyes, jaw clenching when he scoffed, probably not satisfied by the scarce display of herbs. Of course, it couldn’t be compared to what he was aided with at the Castle, yet that was a thought Jeong Yunho wouldn’t be able to wrap his mind around.

“You’re running low on spearmint, little dove.” His velvety voice was mocking, and I felt his sharp gaze on my face as I gulped down the retort I had in mind, and slowly looked up.

“I will stock up on them today, Your Grace.” I couldn’t help but allow my tone to turn venomous when saying his title, “Had I known you were visiting our humble market, I would’ve brought out a wider range of herbs.”

The King chuckled, incredulity crossing his features at the blatant mockery and sarcasm dripping with every word I said, “Can you afford a wider range of herbs?”

“Yes, if those who are taking pay me for my services.” It was dangerous saying such things to the King and so openly, and I couldn’t help but glance at his royal guard as his jaw was clenched, the redhead next to him also throwing daggers my way. But surprisingly, the King just laughed, however, it didn’t sound genuine at all.

“Tell me, little dove, if I really hate a person, would this herb help with getting rid of them?” He cocked an eyebrow as he traced his gloved fingers delicately against a green leaf, slightly bigger than most. It was tucked almost underneath another plant, and I had missed that we had it displayed. It shouldn’t even be there; the plant was dangerous and poisonous even at the softest touch.

“Using a Dieffenbachia would lead to a painful and slow death, Your Grace.” I answered as the King grabbed the leaves with his gloved hand, a crazed grin decorating his lips.

“Nothing more entertaining than a slow and painful death, little dove.” The King whispered, dark eyes boring into mine as a harsh gust of wind blew through the market, pushing the shawl off my head, exposing my dark curls. Thankfully it was tied around my nape and it didn’t fall off my face as well, yet I didn’t miss the way the King’s eyes quickly racked over my newly exposed features.

“If you want them to choke to death, you can let them drink the tea ground from its leaves.” I found myself saying, my tone challenging, wondering where this conversation was leading to. The King bit his lower as he looked down at the leaves, chuckling to himself before placing them back down and holding only one still as he raised his hand up, directing it towards my face. I didn’t flinch away, I didn’t even blink as my eyes bore into Jeong Yunho’s, an intrigued glint in his.

“Would you eat it if your King asked you to?” His tone dropped to a low baritone as he tilted his head to the left, features becoming cold. My jaw clenched, and I fought my instincts of turning around and running away as a chuckle left my lips.

“I would like to know how I have wronged you, Your Grace, that you seem to hate me so much you want my dismay.” I raised an eyebrow, the King’s lips slowly pulling into an amused smirk, eyes widening as he tapped the leaf against the tip of my nose, making my palms ball up into fists at my sides. My heartrate had picked up, but I forced myself to remain calm. He could force it down my throat, of course, and then the whole mission would fail because of me.

“Killing people doesn’t always need to have a reason,” Everything in my screamed to break his face in half, but I just bit my lower lip underneath my shawl and tried to regulate my breaths, “I’ll spare you today, little dove. You could be a green witch instead of wasting your life away here, behind a stand, selling herbs to useless people that have no idea how to use them.”

The King placed the Dieffenbachia leaf back to where it initially was and leaned just slightly forward, his eyes searching mine. I huffed, smiling underneath my shawl sarcastically, tilting my head as I raised my eyebrows at him, “So that you’ll have a reason to kill me because I’m a green witch?”

Not that the King needed an actual reason to kill someone.

“No, I wouldn’t kill you if you were my little green witch, little dove.” His voice darkened just as his face did, eyes turning cold and lips turning into a hungry leer as his eyes took in my face, traveling lower, all over my body. I hated the possessiveness he displayed, even more so because I was his, he just didn’t know it. The scar burned on my hand, and it felt so hot that I almost subconsciously yanked my leather glove off my hand. But if I did that, he’d know, and I’d rather die than let the King know.

Just as I opened my mouth to refute such scenario, his royal guard stepped in, looking completely fed up with the exchange between the two of us as his expression was dark, very clearly fuming while the redhead stood a little behind, smirking at the silver blonde man. We made eye contact for a second, and she subtly nodded her head towards me, prompting me to avert my eyes and look at the King again.

“My King, we should get moving.” Song Mingi’s voice was gruff, low, and raspy as his sharp eyes pierced my skull, “We have what we came for.”

“No need to rush, my Mingi,” The King chuckled, grinning at his guard, “I think we should look around today, make sure everything is as it should be. That everyone respects their duties, and King.”

I smirked as the King threw me a glare, for some obscure reason letting me off the hook despite disrespecting him so clearly and constantly.

“Keep your eyes wide open, little dove,” He sneered, jaw clenching, “you might just fall prey to a big, bad, terrifying hunter.”

I bowed my head deeply in plain mockery as the King hissed, turning around and stalking towards his Friesian. To my surprise, and everyone else’s, the redhead walked up to me and tossed a pouch filled with shillings at my chest, smirking in amusement before she was headed for her own horse. Song Mingi seemed displeased and mad, his shoulder knocked against the redhead’s when they crossed paths, and as he mounted his horse, he threw me such a murderous look that it easily rivalled the King’s. And before anyone could even digest the fact that I just got paid by the King despite him not buying anything from me, the King and his royal guards took off, horses neighing and hoofs loud as they galloped away.

Despite the sun settling high up in the sky blazing down on Aurora, the mist settled upon the market never quite went away, the mood of people rather gloomy to after the King’s visit. It had been only a few hours since he had waltzed in with his royal guards, yet it felt like mere minutes. The King’s presence was everlasting and blood-curdling, you couldn’t escape it even if he wasn’t there anymore. It shouldn’t have been surprising, upon one glance, he could make anyone cower in fear, even the bravest and strongest soldier. I had gone about my day, selling and conversing amicably with other vendors while making sure I paid attention to the smallest shift in the atmosphere, so, I wasn’t too surprised to hear a spine-chilling scream cut off the conversation I was having with Mr. Chwe. After the King had left, I rushed to his side and patched him up, the cut on his cheek the only damage done to him, thankfully, and it wasn’t too deep either. Song Mingi had been lenient this time, it was rare. But I suppose the King needs its gemstone supplier alive if he plans on importing more treasures at a low, and illegal, price. What the King wanted, he got, no matter whether it was just or wrong.

Everyone froze as more shouting came from the square, and as the horns were blown, my muscles tensed and my stomach dropped. An execution would take place. The air was charged with suspense as everyone seemed to be at a standstill for a second before they started rushing towards the square, vendors leaving their stands unattended, civilians pushing each other aside to reach the square faster. I wasn’t in a rush, but when the King’s royal guards started shouting at everyone to move to the square while shoving people forward, I knew I had no choice but to actually attend the execution. Not that I had a choice, everyone had to attend these shenanigans of the King. My heart started racing as a man stood on the raised platform in the middle of the square, held by none other than Song Mingi and another guard, who was gruff and angry looking. I gulped as I made sure my shawl covered my face and hair, adjusting my leather gloves as suddenly they felt like they were slipping off my hands. My scar was itching, I knew it was just my brain making me believe that the wound was fresh again, but I couldn’t force myself to stop when my eyes fell on the King, the malicious smirk on his lips morbid. He stood at the side of the platform, looking like he had never been more entertained in his life before as the man his guards held on to was wriggling around frantically, whatever he was shouting didn’t make sense anymore.

I gulped hard as the King’s eyes surveyed the crowd, but when they moved past me, I felt myself relaxing just slightly. The crowd that had gathered around was murmuring lowly, everyone wondering the reason for this execution as there were some people pushing around others in order to get to the front. I did not understand the morbid need of humans to see such gruesome scenes that were to follow in a few minutes, but I couldn’t fight against the wave as I was shoved to the front. My jaw clenched and my hands turned into fists as a man was mumbling to himself behind me, urging the King on to kill the poor civilian.

“Residents of Aurora!” The King’s deep voice boomed over the masses, crazed eyes setting on the crowd. His cheeks were tainted red still, lips redder than they were in the morning, and his black hair seemed dishevelled, “We have gathered here to teach you a lesson, again.”

The crowd froze as the King leered at everyone, stepping up onto the platform, making the civilian scream that he wasn’t guilty, that he didn’t do anything wrong. The King walked past him, but turned sharply and threw such a hard blow against the man’s jaw that I heard something crack. The crowd gasped loudly and I exhaled sharply, trying to calm the rage that was slowly bubbling up in my bloodstream. I couldn’t act out right now, it would bring my dismay, the mission would be over before I could have even started it.

“This man here,” Jeong Yunho’s gloved hands slipped through the strands of the man’s matted hair, and he yanked the man’s head back harshly as he faced the crowd, the King’s neck and ears red from rage, “tried to take something that doesn’t belong to him.”

“Your Grace, I—”

“Silence!” Song Mingi hissed and threw a blow to the man’s gut. He would’ve toppled over if it weren’t for the two guards holding him up. The redhead had sat on the raised platform, shoulders hunched forward as her eyes watched the crowd closely, uncomfortably settling on me for a second too long. I ignored her haunting gaze, and instead looked at the King.

“Will you try and lie your way out of this, peasant?” The King hissed as his ablaze eyes snapped towards the man, who had started whimpering and shaking his head, “You tried to take my riches, peasant. The King’s possessions, more specifically.”

“I—I wasn’t, I swear—” Jeong Yunho’s face twisted into something dark and sinister as he leaned down and got all up in the poor man’s face.

“Were you really not?” The King’s voice was barely above a whisper, laced with calmness. It was frightening, the whole square went silent as the wind howled between the buildings and abandoned stands. The redhead was swinging her legs back and forth, Song Mingi’s face twisted in disgust as the man he was holding had tears streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace.” He averted his eyes to the ground, lips shaking. It was foolish of him trying to take the King’s ornaments, but I could understand him. He was probably so hungry that he was desperate enough to do something like this. Unfortunately, it would bring his end…or perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, a way out of Aurora forever.

“Shame your apology means nothing to me.” The King whispered, releasing the man as he walked forward to the edge of the platform, the redhead’s back straightened and she stopped swinging her legs. The King briefly glanced at her and she got off hastily, standing to the side as Song Mingi directed the smallest of smirks at her, visibly pissing the redhead off. It was slightly frightening how her height almost matched the King’s and Song Mingi’s, barely a few inches shorter than the two men. She was a powerful warrior and a strong soldier of the Royal Guard.

“There’s order in this world,” The King started, voice eerily steady as a slow grin stretched over his features, “There’s laws in this world, and they have to be respected. They will be respected as long as you all are under my watch, bevans. It’s hilarious how dumb you all are to think that you could touch something that belongs to your King, let alone try and steal it. Such behaviour will not be forgiven, and thus it will be punished accordingly.”

The King paused, licking his lips, right hand settling on the handle of the sword he had sheathed around his hips. My body was tense and my heart was beating loudly, almost so loud that I couldn’t hear the King’s words anymore. Goosebumps covered my skin everywhere, and suddenly the shawl around the lower half of my face made it hard to breathe, it felt like panic was overtaking my whole being. I felt like Jeong Yunho could see through me and I’d be the next one executed today. What if he somehow just knew that his brother sent me to assassinate him? What if the redhead and Song Mingi also knew and were only waiting for the right moment to snatch me away and kill me in the most antagonizing and slow way? My breath stuttered in my throat when the King’s eyes suddenly fell on me, as if he remembered who I was after all those years.

“Usually, severing the hand you had stolen with would do the deed,” The King tsked, dark eyes boring into mine as my right hand was burning up, “But this time it won’t be no good. I have been too lenient with my people lately; I fear you are forgetting the rules.”

The crowd muttered in discomfort as everyone hung their heads low, not wanting to be the next targeted by the King. But I couldn’t look away as Jeong Yunho smirked, narrowing his eyes challengingly at me. I would be next if I didn’t succumb to him, so, I gritted my teeth and lowered my head until the cobblestones were the only thing I could see. The King chuckled as I heard his sword being drawn.

“Good,” He leered, tapping his sword against the wooden platform, “Now, watch.”

Almost at an instant, the crowd whipped their heads up as the King walked towards his two guards, nodding once at Song Mingi as the poor man started frantically begging the King to let him off this time, that he’d serve him for the rest of his life, that he could take both hands if he wanted to. Song Mingi and the other guard holding him down suddenly forced him forward, pushing his head down onto the long table, his chin hitting the table loudly.

“No, please!” The man started shouting, trashing around, but the redhead was up on the platform in an instant, pushing his back flush against the table so that he wouldn’t move around so much, “No—no! I swear! I swear I will do anything! Please, please, be merciful Your Grace, I regret what I had done, I really do! Spear me this one time! Your Grace!”

But the King stood by the edge of the table, next to the man’s head, staring down at him with dead eyes, expression soulless. Because he didn’t have a soul, because Jeong Yunho was the Devil himself, not even trying to disguise it anymore.

“You seem to have forgotten that you are my property, bevan, and I do whatever I want to you.” The King hissed, raising his sword up high, held by both hands. My heart was beating out of my chest, and there was a collective gasp as time seemed to slow down. It wasn’t my first time seeing a beheading, and I knew it wouldn’t be my last either, but the ear-piercing shrill scream the man let out before the King’s sword came harshly down on his neck, slashing his skin, was deafening, and it made my ears ring. The sound of skin splitting open, blood gushing out, the crunching of bones, and then the hard thud of something heavy made me so nauseous that I was afraid I would throw up right then and there. My eyes were glued to the headless body that now lay limply on the table, the three guards releasing it as they stepped back. My eyes were frozen on the stray head that fell onto the platform, slowly rolling forward. It brought blood in its wake, oozing out of it, out of the headless body, his once soulful eyes now wide and unblinking, and mouth open in a silent scream. The man’s eyes were now glossed over and empty, mouth making no noise anymore, yet I could still hear his scream. My body was shaking, my mind was numb, and my right hand felt like it was slowly melting off around the scar. There was someone crying in the crowd, loudly, then there were people who were gagging. Nobody was looking at the head, nobody but me. I couldn’t look away, the rage in my bloodstream forced me to keep looking at it, to lament at the feeling, to gather it deep inside myself and channel it into every particle of my body that wanted to kill the King.

I flinched as the head fell off the platform and continued rolling towards the crowd, towards me. And despite how gruesome it looked, I couldn’t look away, I didn’t want to anymore. My body and brain weren’t working in sync anymore, my thoughts were a bit hazy as my leg raised and stepped on the left cheek of the man’s head, stopping it from rolling forward anymore. A woman next to me toppled over and threw up, everyone else gasping and rushing away from us. Everyone watched, yet nobody wanted to touch it. What was so different about it now? Weren’t we all partaking in the man’s ruthless death either way? A floorboard creaked and my head snapped up, greeted by the tall form of the King as he closed in on me, eyes burning and face covered in droplets of blood. It dripped off his chin rhythmically, soaking his black shirt underneath his gown covered in the Royal colours. The smell of iron flooded my nostrils at once, almost as if the King reeked of it himself, and a sudden dizziness hit my head. But I didn’t look away, I didn’t move. The square was dead silent as the King crouched down without breaking eye contact, he was breathing through his nose hard, jaw clenched. I kept my eyes on his as I looked down at him, left hand fisting my long skirt, brushing against the metal handle of my dagger hidden underneath my thick belt. It would’ve been so easy to kill him, but the risk of failure was too high.

Suddenly, something was yanked out from underneath my foot and it hit the ground harshly, rattling my ankle, making my eyebrows furrow as the King stood to its full height, looming over me. The smell of iron was strong, but something even stronger clashed with it, the smell of vetiver. The King’s lips were parted as he breathed through his mouth, tongue poking out to wet his lips, his chocolate brown eyes blown wide with a darkness I didn’t understand yet. He looked like a man who was crazy, ready to annihilate anything in its path. I was in his path, and he would get rid of me just for the fun of it. I didn’t even realize I had been holding my breath until the King’s eyes finally left my face, he looked over my head at the shocked crowd, holding the dead man’s head up high.

“This,” His harsh voice boomed over the silent square, “is what happens to those disobeying their King!”

I felt eyes on me, I was aware of everything around myself, but I could only stare at the King’s face as everyone else looked somewhere else. Everything was too fresh in my mind, that day when he maimed me, the day I lost my brother…it was suffocating, it was eating me up. I couldn’t breathe anymore, I needed to get air despite being out in the open square. The harsh wind wasn’t cold anymore, my body had become numb to it. My figure was trembling so hard I could hear and feel my teeth clattering against each other, my lips quivering. Yet no tears clouded my eyes, heart too stale and dry to cry anymore. There was nothing except rage and fright left in my body, and the desperate yearning for freedom. The terror wouldn’t stop as long as Jeong Yunho was alive. And when I looked up at his face again, eyes shaking in blind rage, I was surprised to find the same expression on the King’s face. He was sneering, cheeks red and nose flaring as he glared me down, his hand holding the head shook. He wanted all of us dead, and all of us wanted him dead.

My hand tightened around the handle of the dagger, and if I closed my eyes, I could everything play out in front of me. All I had to do was yank the dagger out from underneath my belt, grab onto the King’s gown and yank him closer to myself, pull him down so that we’d be eye-level so that I’d stare into his eyes full of hatred while I plunge the dagger deep inside his neck, cutting his artery. Blood would gush out, spraying on me, coating me in his royal blood, one that was red instead of blue and tasted of iron, just like of the man’s he’s killed. I wanted to stare him in his dark eyes as the life left his, wanted to hear him gargle on his own warm blood, wanted to hear his gasp for air helplessly as everyone watched him fight for his stupidly mortal life. I wanted him to suffer, to feel like everyone he’s ever hurt or killed. I wanted him to shake in terror as his life slipped away from him without him being able to do anything about it. I wanted him to beg to be speared, to be saved, to be forgiven. I wanted him to crumble at my feet and clutch at my legs, grip loosening the harder he fought to stay alive. What a stupid mortal this King was.

Powerless, defenceless, helpless.

“Scatter around everyone!” Song Mingi’s harsh and raspy voice boomed through the square, sharp eyes frightening everyone away, “Go back to your stands!”

There was a promise in the King’s eyes before he turned and threw the head onto the platform, some men from the pub rushing over to clear the platform. And I was walking away stiffly, hand still clutching my dagger as I tried to ignore the painful itch of my scar. It felt like daggers were thrown towards me, and I didn’t have to look back to see the King, the redhead, and Song Mingi stare at my retreating form. I didn’t have to look back because I knew I had made myself the King’s target, a price on my head if I were to misbehave even in the slightest bit. And I didn’t have to see or hear the King as his lips moved, words hushed as he instructed his trusted royal guard to keep an eye on me, suspicious of my identity and intentions.

Once the devil catches you, you can’t escape its clutches ever again. He holds you down, robs you of your soul and sucks the life out of you until you’re nothing but a shell of what you once used to be. He sucks you dry of your life essence; he robs you of the light in your eyes, of the love harboured inside of you, of all of your joy, of the will to continue living. And once he’s done with you, he leaves you alone in this world to rot away, to suffer, to cry, to hate, until your heart is nothing but a rotten fruit. A damned fruit.

Forbidden, tempting, dangerous.

If famish wasn’t such a strong state of mind, so strong that it consumes your thoughts in its entirety, the damned fruit would’ve remained untouched. But when famish mingles with fear and pain, it leaves you desperate enough to go to lengths that you know once caught would make you suffer.

There was nobody but myself to blame as I was veered inside the cold Throne Room, heart pounding and eyes tear filled as people moaned and groaned in pain, a line consisting of five people in front of me. The grip on my right arm was so painful and so tight that it probably had already cut off my blood flow, and I couldn’t fight it off. I was frail and small, a man twice my size and height could easily do whatever to me. And yet, despite knowing that I might not see another sunrise, all I could think about was my sickly brother laying in his bed, struggling to breathe while hungry. I had almost made it outside the market when I heard someone chase after me, shouting as they closed in on me. Somebody saw me take the damn apple, and they snitched to the Royal Guard, to Song Mingi. All I wanted was to feed my sick brother, to prolong his time in this world and fulfil one wish of his. He just wanted to eat an apple.

My body trembled as the lady at the front of the line wailed in pain, choking on her own screams as the smell of burnt skin was horrid in the room, bringing acid into my throat. I was nauseous, I felt like passing out. I tried to yank my arm free again and bolt out of the Throne Room, but the guard holding me just hissed and yanked me forward as the sobbing woman was dragged away, hand cradled to her chest. I couldn’t look, I was too afraid. I knew what would happen to me, everybody knew what would happen to them if they dared steal, but I didn’t want to accept it yet. I just couldn’t. If the King branded you, you were his for eternity.

The Devil would find you in his next life, and he would claim you again as his. He would make you suffer; he would torture you and laugh while you beg for forgiveness.

I jumped as a man at the front started begging loudly, falling to his knees as his arm was forced onto the marble table, the fireplace blazing the closer we got to it. There were only three more people in front of me. The man started crying, trying to free himself, but the King’s laughter echoed in the vast Throne Room, and then the man’s scream was so loud it made my ears ring. I fought against the grip on myself again, breathing getting shallow as my heart was beating so fast, I thought I would die from heart failure before the sizzling metal rod could even touch my skin.

“Stop whimpering, you stupid bitch.” The tall man holding me hissed, sharp eyes boring into mine as he loomed over me with his lanky form. He was frightening, he was the Devil’s right hand, he was his Beelzebub. It felt like the room was closing in on me despite its grandiose size, like it was about to swallow me whole as perspiration gathered on my brows, slowly dripping down my temples. I couldn’t breathe when another man was maimed, marked for life, screams echoing in the vast chamber. My captor just smirked as the fear I felt reflected off my face, pulling me closer towards my tormentor. I wanted to run away, I wanted to save myself, I needed to return to my brother, but I wasn’t strong enough.

The King’s face was twisted in a sick expression as he pressed the metal rod into another man’s hand, his victim having long fainted. The man lay limply on the floor when the guard holding him up released him, and the King kicked him, but the man didn’t budge. The King’s jaw clenched and he groaned, looking at the guard who had held the man as if he was exasperated by his incompetence.

“Take this scum away, you fool!” He hissed, dark eyes settling on his guard as he bared his teeth at him. The King was even scarier in person, from up close, in the Throne Room. His red cheeks and burgundy tainted lips could’ve fooled anyone who didn’t know him. Why did a Devil like him have such soft features when all he did was hurt and hurt others, terrorize them and make them wish they were never born? Why was someone with an Angel face a creature so dark everyone feared its name and existence? My body shook uncontrollably as I realized I was next in line. Time stood still for a second, everything disappearing around me as my ears rung and eyes saw white only. And then, as my captor tugged on my arm, everything hit me at full force.

My rapid heartbeat, the thumping of my head, the desperation crawling up my throat, the need to save myself, I had to get out. I had to return to my brother, he just wanted an apple. Why was life unfair? Almost as if awoken from a dormant sleep, adrenaline kicked hard through my system, flooding my whole being like I didn’t know it was even possible. My lungs expanded and muscles tensed, and when Song Mingi tugged on my arm again, barely three steps away from the marble table, I jumped. I jumped and I kicked at the man’s chest, scratching his neck and making him yelp in pain. Yet he never released me, but I wasn’t giving up. I had to save myself, nobody else would do it for me. And so, I kicked when I was hoisted up by my waist, I screamed at the top of my lungs, I even punched whoever dared touch me. But as if I weighted nothing, I was thrown on the marble table, back hitting it hard, head crushing into the cold table. I gasped, vision fuzzy for a second, until a dark and sinister laugh snapped me back to reality. I froze when I realized I was being held down against the table by Song Mingi, expression so dark I would’ve recoiled if I could’ve. His jaw was clenched and his gaze was so sharp it could’ve cut me if it were possible. But the King, Jeong Yunho, he was calm. He looked the opposite of what his Royal Guard looked like, and something dropped deep in my stomach.

The King looked entertained by the fight I was putting up; he was enjoying it. My lower lip quivered as a hand decorated with rings, metal ornaments, reached out and lightly traced my bottom lip. I couldn’t breathe as my eyes were captivated by Jeong Yunho’s dark ones, pupils dilated as he sneered, a crazed look crossing his features as I gasped for air, trying to catch my breath. The King gripped my jaw tightly, so tightly that I thought he’d break it in two, but what was even more painful were the sharp ends of his rings cutting into my skin. I whimpered as I tried to pull my head away, but I was immobilised by Song Mingi, who was smirking as he watched the exchange.

“Oh, little dove,” The King whispered as his eyebrows furrowed, mock concern crossing his features, “Look at how frightened she is, My Mingi.”

The royal guard’s eyes turned even darker, a predatory look crossing his features as he chuckled, hold on me tightening just a little more as my body started shaking more violently, breathing loud as I breathed through my nose. The King’s smirk matched his guard’s, and he released a long sigh, making me whimper when he dug his sharp claws more into my skin, something hot prickling down my jaw and my neck, disappearing underneath the neckline of my black dress. The King’s eyes followed the drop of blood, and he closed his eyes for a second as he took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, a look so evil was present in his eyes that I shook my head at him involuntarily, begging him wordlessly to spare me, to let me go just this time.

“Oh, little dove,” The King whispered, pursing his blood red lips, suddenly releasing my jaw as he grabbed something. My heart raced faster than before, if that were even possible, and I shook my head as I felt sobs bubbling up my throat.

“Please, please, please,” My voice was hoarse and shaky, my mouth struggled to form the words I so desperately tried to speak, “My brother is sick, please.”

“You know the rules, little dove.” There was almost something like sadness tinging Jeong Yunho’s voice as his mouth pulled to the side, eyes staring off into the blazing fire. My jaw clenched as I looked at what he was holding, and my stomach coiled in even more fear. I couldn’t let this happen, I just couldn’t.

“Let me go, I promise I will never do it again, Your Grace.” I begged, hoping that I could get to him somehow, but the King just hummed as if he wasn’t truly listening to me. I was terrified, but I couldn’t help but feel wronged. If the King provided us with everything we needed, with sufficient food, then we wouldn’t have to go out and steal as a means of survival. He was the one forcing us into doing these things, and yet he was the one punishing us for something he would never change. It was unfair, and I couldn’t help but soak in the sudden anger that flared through my body, making me fight against the royal guard as he pinned my right against the marble table, holding me down by my shoulders with his other hand.

“Why should I pay for something I’m forced to do because you have never once helped your people, Your Grace?” I snapped, glaring at the side of the King’s head. He didn’t react, and I couldn’t remain silent anymore, “Why are you punishing me when you’re the one forcing us to live in poverty and famish, My King?”

I winced when Song Mingi’s elbow dug into my shoulder painfully, but I didn’t stop glaring up at the King as he looked borderline bored, uninterested in what I had to say.

“My brother is dying because of you!” I screamed, losing my sanity as the King didn’t react, only chuckled quietly, “My brother is dying because you took away everything from us and forced us into the slums. My brother is dying because you hold people in such terror that not even an apple can be gifted anymore. I stole that apple, because nobody would give it to me anymore out of kindness. While King Choi was alive, the Kingdom was flourishing. Everyone was happy and content, everyone enjoyed life. You—you are no King, Jeong Yunho—”

“Shut up, wench!” Song Mingi’s face was suddenly looming over mine as he screamed in my face, his whole face red and enraged as I stared back at him wide eyed. My heart was racing and I started trashing around violently, trying to fight the guard off again, but to no avail.

“My Mingi,” The King’s voice was light and soft, head turning to glance down at us, “don’t rile yourself up over the words of a poor peasant.”

“But—My King, she’s—” The guard looked shocked as he stared at the King wide eyed, seemingly confused.

“A stupid, confused, little girl,” The King chuckled, looking down at me with pity on his face that made me sick to my stomach, “she doesn’t know better. Perhaps this will teach her a lesson for once and for all.”

My eyes widened when the King’s hand moved, the sizzling hot rod pulled out of the fire, getting closer and closer to my body as the King moved agonizingly slow, taunting me by the large grin on his face. I whimpered and bit my lower lip, aware that Song Mingi was holding me even firmer than before, jaw set tight as his eyes were glued onto the King.

“No—” I stuttered, gasping for air as the King lightly grazed my hand with his gloved hand, “No! Don’t—don’t touch me!”

A serene smile appeared on his lips, looking into my eyes with a look that made me feel like a small child who had misbehaved and was now getting lectured for it. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to wriggle myself free, trashing my legs around and trying to push Song Mingi off myself, but his strength was incredible, and I was too frail to even as much as make him budge, “Let go of me! I didn’t do anything wrong! Don’t touch me!”

My throat hurt from my screams, but I wouldn’t give up. I would never, I had to get back to my brother. I couldn’t let that iron rod touch my skin; I’d be the King’s forever. I couldn’t let the Devil bound me to himself, I just couldn’t. I’d never be free again, I’d never be able to leave Aurora, “Now, if you stop throwing a fuss it’ll hurt less, little dove—”

The saliva that had gathered in my mouth landed on the King’s cheek as I spat at him, nose flared and eyes wide in rage and fear as my lungs heaved for air, “You’ll burn in the depths of Hell for—”

The iron grip around my throat rendered me speechless in seconds, before I could finish my curse. My eyes bulged as I clawed at the large hand wrapped around my neck with my left hand, Song Mingi’s grip the last thing I’d feel before I’d meet my death. The King just watched us, he didn’t blink, he didn’t react. His lips twitched, but he said nothing as my spit slowly dripped down his cheek, “My Mingi.”

And before I could even wrap my mind around the sudden oxygen rush in my lungs, a searing pain shot through the top of my right hand, so hot and so painful that a scream was instantly ripped from my hoarse throat. My back arched and fingers scraped at nothing as my right arm was still held down by the guard, the King’s eyes boring onto my face as he watched me frail around in excruciating pain. The smell of burnt flesh was disgusting and it made me gag knowing that it was my own flesh burning, branded by the Crown’s emblem for life. My vision went white for a second as the rod was still burning into my flesh, it felt like it would go through my hand at any given moment, creating a gaping hole in it. I heaved for air as I couldn’t scream anymore, body shaking in shock as suddenly the King smirked, yanking the rod off my hand. A loud sob ripped through my body, right hand shaking so badly that it felt like it was an alien limb, not controlled by my own body. The restricting hands were gone from my body, and I was afraid to look at the damage done. I was on the brink of passing out and throwing up at the same time, when suddenly the King’s gloved hand was in the air, and the next second it was connected to my cheek, sending my head flying to the side. The slap echoed in the vast room, and my sobs instantly stilled as my curly hair fell over my face, shielding it from the eyes of the two tyrants. My body stilled, yet my right hand never stopped shaking. The pain was searing, pulsing, traveling from my hand up to my wrist and my whole arm, making me grit my teeth as I tried not to cry out. It hurt so badly that it made me want to claw at the scorched skin.

“You’re mine, little dove,” The King’s dark words were whispered in my ear, voice deep, “and if you try to run, I will find you, and I will kill you with my own hands.”

“Burn in hell.” I managed to grit out through my teeth, throat feeling like sandpaper. The King chuckled; sound high pitched as I heard the metal rod being thrown onto the marble floor of the Throne Room.

“She’s a handful, My Mingi,” The King mused, and I felt a gloved hand grip my right thigh as I was veered off the table. I managed to sit up last minute and save myself from tumbling onto the floor, “Take her to the dungeons, let’s teach her another lesson for being disobedient and trying to curse her King.”

My eyes widened, desperation clawing at my bones as I tried to push the guard off, but he just grabbed my arms and tied them behind my back before I could even as much as protest. My head was spinning and it was a little hard to realize what exactly was happening, the pain coming from my hand the only thing I could focus on as Song Mingi made me walk, veering me towards some stone stairs at the back of the Throne Room. Yet, I was aware that I needed to go back to my brother.

“No, no, no—my brother—” A sob cut me off as I tried to plead with Song Mingi, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore, expression stone cold as I cried harder, “He’ll die, please!”

I was yanked back by my hair and forced to stop as Song Mingi breathed hard through his nose, eyes burning as he glared at me sharply, “I do not understand why My King spared you, but if you won’t shut your fucking mouth, I will gut you right here and right now. Then, you’ll join your brother you keep wailing for in Eden.”

I gasped as I shoot up, clutching at my chest and right hand shaking from the dull ache coursing through it, sweat covering my face and neck. My heart was beating frantically as I gasped for air, eyes searching my surroundings wildly. It was dark around me, but the moonlight shone through the opened curtains. The little candle I had lit before going to bed had burned out, and the sturdy wood of my bed made my back ache. I was safe. I was in laying in my bed, in my pathetic excuse of a cottage, far away from the Castle and the Throne Room. I tried taking deep breaths, tried slowing my heartbeats, tried to reason with myself that all of that was just a dream. But it wasn’t, it was a reoccurring nightmare of that cursed day. It made me miss my brother even terribly more, and as my eyes shifted towards the small dresser I had across from my bed, my eyes landed on the sketch of the King given to me by Sir Jung. Fury flamed inside my chest as my left hand slipped underneath my cold pillow, and in a swift movement, I pulled my dagger out from underneath and flung it at the sketch as a scream ripped through my lips. Jeong Yunho will pay for everything he’s done.

It had been two weeks since the beheading in the square, two weeks of me spying on the King to my best capacities. It wasn’t easy to remain unseen, but I managed to sneak by his Royal Guards just fine each time. Song Mingi and the redhead weren’t as attentive as they thought they were. Perhaps the King wouldn’t sleep so well at night knowing that his most trusted guards were incapable of sensing danger and noticing the littlest changes around themselves.

The King’s schedule was quite simple and easy. He left the Castle grounds early in the morning to go on a hunt in the forest surrounding his estate, then he’d go down to the market and parade down the wealthier parts of Aurora. It wasn’t too often that he went anywhere else but straight back to the Castle once he was done agonizing his people in the streets, however, he had gone once or twice dangerously close to the mansion Prince Choi and Sir Jung inhibited now. There was also a time when the King was headed to the slums, to a shop famous for its otherworldly businesses, meaning witchcraft. The King wasn’t opposed to it as long as the witches served him, and him alone. Anyone who dared use their knowledge against the King would be burned on a rug, in the square. There had been witch hunts before, they used to be more frequent while King Choi was the ruler as he was opposed to anything that dealt with darkness, however, Jeong Yunho wasn’t like that. He embraced the dark and he craved the power that came with it, a false sense of immortality laying within him. It only took me two days to realize that the King was plotting something, something that was kept hush-hush and a secret from even his two most trusted guards. The King had let them go back to the Castle one afternoon and then he galloped out of Aurora, only returning the next day. I couldn’t go after him, and curiosity ate me up when the next day the King had gone to the same witchcraft shop, staying in there for hours, looking pale and almost ghostly by the time he finally left the shop. If it weren’t for Song Mingi, who was at an instant by the King’s side, he would’ve crumbled to floor and fainted. The King was doing something very highly illicit, and I needed to find out just what. Both for my own sake, but also to help Prince Choi and Sir Jung in taking the Crown from Jeong Yunho.

Tonight hadn’t been different from the King’s daily shenanigans, however, for a change, the King had gone to a run-down pub, located a little bit too close to the slums. He was joined by his two loyal guards, Song Mingi and the redhead. They wore long black gowns to hide their identities as they slipped past the dark shadows coating the streets, the lamplighters not bothering to light the candles in this part of Aurora. Of course, that did not come as a surprise. The only adequately lit parts of our burgh were the market and square, where the royal guards would march around to check if the lamplighters were indeed doing their duties. Nobody cared about those suffering outside of the richer parts of Aurora, nobody cared about people like me.

I pressed closer against the cold brick wall of a rickety hut, barely holding itself up. Many houses looked like that in the area, and it was a truly saddening sight, especially when families with lots of children were forced to live in such conditions due to the King taking everything from them, leaving them to the rats. I tried not to think of those people, it made me remember my brother, and tonight I had to focus. I needed to get closer to the pub somehow, to gain more intel on whatever was going on inside, of what the King was up to once again. But by the time I gathered my courage and came up with a flawed plan, the door to the pub was kicked open and a drunk man stumbled outside, followed by two tall gowned figures. The drunk man was loudly whistling and he stumbled on a misplaced cobblestone, roughly crashing into the side of the pub. He howled in pain, but I paid him no mind as the tall figures turned the opposite way of the drunken man had started tumbling towards, and started walking. Their pace was fast, almost as if they were trying to get away from something.

I took a deep breath and remaining in the shadows, I crept after them, eyes fixated on their tall figures. I kept a few good meters between us, and I made sure to keep my footsteps light, so that they wouldn’t accidentally hear me. The sky was clear for once, and the moonlight was your only guide through the dark streets. For once, I was grateful that the lamplighters didn’t perform to their full capacity and left the slums unattended, making my job so much easier right now. I tried to decipher who was who, but the King and his Guard’s similarity in physique was a scary realization. Perhaps Song Mingi’s shoulders were wider and stance firmer, but I couldn’t say for sure. Especially when their strides seemingly were the same. I couldn’t tell the King and his Guard apart from behind, and I felt anxiety crawl up my throat as I prayed to God that the two wouldn’t separate.

The long street we had been walking down came to a crossroads soon. Going to the left would lead you back to the prettier and cleaner district of Aurora, however, turning right would take you towards the dense and haunting forest, towards the mansion Prince Choi and Sir Jung inhabited. As the two men took a left turn, I came to the alarming realization that the redhead was seemingly nowhere, and she had arrived with them to the pub. Could she have stayed back? Had the two men gotten rid of her? That sounded absurd, everybody knew those in the Royal Guard gave their lives to the King, and the redhead was one of his most devoted soldier, she surely wouldn’t have committed treason against someone she so blindly worshipped. But then where was she? My heart was thumping wildly in my chest as I had started glancing behind myself, paranoid that I was also being followed, probably by the redhead. If they were to catch me now, I would most certainly die as they outnumbered and outpowered me easily. I might have gotten stronger over the past years, but I still remained with a smaller built. And I was no warrior, I lacked the skills they have mastered a long time ago.

The streets turned narrow once again as we got closer and closer to the richer area, cottages in better conditions littering both sides of the street. There were very few candles still alight in the houses, and I had to be more careful as the candle lighting of the streets was better in this area. I pulled the shawl tighter around my face, and made myself smaller as the two men continued walking, but faster than before. I had to run, almost, to keep up with them. My breaths left my mouth in short puffs and as the two men rounded the corner, the main street leading them back to the Castle, I followed suit. However, I almost yelped as I crashed against a hard body, sending me backwards. I instantly panicked, eyes wide in fear as my left hand went to grab my dagger, but the man that I had stumbled into was neither the King nor Song Mingi. It was just a drunken civilian, looking borderline sick. His eyes were squinted and as he tried leaning closer to get a better look at my face, I grabbed his head and pushed him to the side, making him stumble. If I wouldn’t have caught his arm quickly, he would’ve stumbled to the hard cobblestone covered road. I have underestimated his state, and I took pity on him as he looked confused.

“Go home, old man, it isn’t safe out here.” I snapped at him; eyes boring into his. The man just blinked and then nodded once, clumsily taking off again, stumbling into every possible bench and bush he could. I shook my head and quickly rounded the corner, hoping that the distraction wasn’t long enough to make me lose my targets. But, to my misfortune, there was only one tall figure walking down the long street, their pace a lot slower this time. I gulped and pulled the neckline of my own gown tighter around my shoulders, heart beating fast as I hoped the man I was following was indeed the King himself, and not Song Mingi. But I couldn’t be sure, and I was helpless as I followed after him. He was a little ahead, a few good steps, and I refrained from closing the gap again, hesitant to give away my presence just yet. If it wasn’t the King, then I had no reason to follow his Guard, he was of no use to me. My eyebrows furrowed when the tall man took a right turn, going down a street that wasn’t leading towards the Castle anymore. What had they planned? Looking behind myself, left and right too, I made sure I wasn’t followed as I quickly ran down the rest of the street before rounding the same corner the man had, gripping the handle of my dagger. It was a narrow backstreet that connected to a dirt road which led down to a small field if you continued walking left, however, it met with another even shorter path, which was a dead-end behind a fancy Inn. The man continued walking, pace once again hurried, until suddenly a black shadow leaped from the side of a building, knocking the tall man into the narrow dead-end. My eyes widened as I froze in the middle of the street, heart pounding in my chest. What was happening? I should’ve turned around and left, but I had to know whether it was the King or Song Mingi getting attacked in the middle of the night. And so, I pressed myself against the brick wall of the Inn and crept to the edge of the building, peeking my head around the corner, just barely.

The unmistakable silver blonde hair was glinting underneath the moonlight as the hood of Song Mingi’s gown had fallen down, and I hissed in displeasure. I had been fooled. I wasn’t following the King, but Song Mingi. So where had the King gone then? What was he up to again? Or was Song Mingi just getting frisky behind an Inn after a night spent at a pub getting drunk? My question was quickly answered as a hard blow was thrown against the guard’s jaw, sending his head in the opposite direction. The guard hissed and suddenly sprung forward, hand wrapping around the throat of his attacker. But the attacker was quick to fight back, and the person’s nails dug into Song Mingi’s wrist until he was forced to release his attacker. The person grabbed the collar of his gown and pinned him against the wall, face leaning dangerously close to Song Mingi’s. The height difference was minimal between the two, and my eyes widened as the person’s hood slipped from her head, revealing her red hair. What were Jeong Yunho’s royal guards doing in a dead-end, mauling each other around?

“You complete scum!” The redhead’s voice was shaky, laced with venom, “How dare you go to our King and say such lies about me?!”

Song Mingi remained unmoving, finally having given up fighting the redhead. Instead, he leaned his head against the tall cement fence he was pressed up against, and smirked.

“I see My King has let you know about the little change that’s happened.” I watched as the redhead’s grip tightened even more around Song Mingi’s gown.

“I was supposed to go on that mission, Mingi.” The redhead pressed; tone hard.

“And now it’s me going, foxy.” Song Mingi chuckled in amusement, and I heard the redhead let out a frustrated yelp. I pressed myself against the brick wall, turning away from the scene. I could hear the two guards throwing insults at each other, their voices gradually getting louder, but I wasn’t interested in their quarrel. I was here for the King, and I had lost him. Now I wouldn’t know if he was headed back to the Castle or off to doing something unlawful again.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes for a second, gathering my thoughts and energy to head back to the slums, to my pathetic excuse of a hut. The air was chilly again, and I was thankful for the thick gown Prince Choi had sent me three days ago, a small note saying to ‘dress up well, it’s getting colder day by day’ placed on top of the heavy garment. I was thankful, and more than grateful for the gift sent by the Prince. I had nothing to repay him with, but perhaps getting rid of the King was the biggest treasure I could offer to the Prince right now.

I was headed down the short alleyway I had just followed Song Mingi down, meaning to go back onto the main street and then head back home. However, before I could even round the corner fully, gloved fingers curled into the fabric of my expensive gown and yanked me around the corner, throwing me against the bricked wall. I gasped as the wind was knocked out of my lungs, head hitting the wall loudly, making me groan as it shook my skull. As I tried to regain my bearings, I felt the gloved hand slip up towards my throat, long fingers wrapping around my throat and squeezing. I froze, left hand shooting up to hold onto my attacker’s wrist as my eyes finally cleared and were able to focus on the one holding me. And it was none other than Jeong Yunho, the King himself. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were mere slits as he glared down at me, towering over me due to his great height. The pressure around my neck grew stronger and I gasped for air, eyes widening just a little, trying to control the panic raising in my whole being. Being immobilised by the King felt too familiar, I couldn’t help but respond with panic as memories of the day I had been marked by him tried to resurface, remind me of the pain I had felt under his hands.

“What do you want?” The King hissed, lowering his head until he was eye level with me. I tried to gulp, but it was hard. My grip tightened around the King’s wrist, nails digging into his leather glove. I didn’t answer him, and even if I would’ve tried to, the way his hold was tightening stopped me from doing so.

“Who are you, peasant?” The King snapped and leaned even closer; eyebrows furrowed as his eyes travelled all over my face. He wasn’t able to see much of my features, but I knew he could see my eyes just well, and so I glared at him. My heart was racing and I tried to push his hand off, but it only made him squeeze tighter. My lungs started burning, the King was slowly choking me, antagonizing me even now.

“Speak up, wench.” It seemed he had realized I was a woman, disgust coating his features as his hot breath fanned over my cheeks. I grit my teeth and tried to push the King backwards, but he wasn’t budging. Dark sports started covering my vision, and I tried not to gasp for air, refusing to show weakness in front of him again. But as his right hand raised, the sharp edges of his ornaments grazing against the little exposed skin I had, I knew I had to do something. His ring clad fingers gripped at the shawl and my eyes widened more as I realized he was about to yank it off my face. I couldn’t let him see me; it would compromise the whole mission. In my panicked state, I did the next best thing I could that came to mind. I turned my head and bit his exposed right hand, biting through the material of my shawl. It probably wasn’t as painful as it would have been if my shawl wasn’t in the way of my teeth, but the King still hissed and ripped his right hand back, looking surprised. It allowed me little momentum to shake his grip off my neck too as it had loosened, and I lived with the opportunity, grabbing his arm and yanking it off myself. Before the King could fight back, I sprung forward and pushed at his strong chest, making him stumble back a few steps as he didn’t expect my attack.

“Who sent you, little dove?” He leered, eyes ablaze as a smirk slowly slipped onto his lips, looking like he had no intention of holding me again. Yet, he took two steps towards me, watching me like a predator watches its prey. I gulped, suddenly feeling helpless, just like the day I had been held down against the marble table, marked and maimed. I felt like that little girl again as my hands started shaking and mind got clouded with memories, making it harder to breathe through the shawl. The pain I had felt that day suddenly felt too vivid, too real, as my right hand burned, the Crown’s emblem forever burned in my skin. All the King had to do was yank my glove down and see for himself. He would’ve taken me back to the Castle and killed me, or worse, tortured me until he became bored of me.

“If you don’t speak now, I’ll kill you.” The King said in a light tone, smile spreading into a wide grin as his eyes glossed over with darkness. I gulped and steeled my nerves, reminding myself that I wasn’t that defenceless little girl anymore. I wouldn’t sit around and mop as I wait for Death to take me away. I have become stronger, both physically and mentally, and I had a mission. A mission which placed the fate of the Kingdom of the Fallen in my hands.

“You’ll kill me even if I speak.” I hissed, glaring at the King as he started laughing. There was nothing amusing about what I said, it was the mere truth. And as he extended his ring decorated hand towards my face again, I pulled my right arm back and swung it towards the King’s cheek with all the force I could muster. I was breathing hard as my gloved hand made contact with the King’s cheek, and I’ve never felt anymore more satisfying than having the King’s head snap to the side as my fist connected with his red tinged cheek. The night was quiet and my punch was loud. My heart was racing as a huge grin spread onto my lips, a grin the King couldn’t see and wouldn’t see as I suddenly took off, sprinting away. I was fast, but I knew they would catch up with me sooner than later, so, upon spotting vines coming down the side of a smaller cottage, I gripped onto them and climbed the wall as fast as I could. My heart was racing as I took off running again, hopping from roof to roof, praying that it wouldn’t give out underneath me as some felt a little too loose. I was also praying that the roof tiles wouldn’t slip underneath my weight, sending me tumbling to the cold and dirty ground.

I could hear the King and his two loyal guards chase after me, but it seemed like neither could climb onto the cottages, offering me the little advantage I needed to get away tonight. And knowing that I managed to instill even a little pain in the King would help me sleep better tonight.

Tonight had to have been the most nerve wrecking night of my whole life as I walked past the tall guards at the heavy front doors of the Castle. The air was warm as I stepped further inside the vast hallway, scenery way too familiar. I tried to remain calm and collected as a butler stepped closer, an inviting and warm smile on his lips, as he helped me slip out of my expensive fur coat. The dark brown fabric reached down to my ankles, shielding me completely from the biting chill the late autumn wind brought with itself. My heart felt like it would leap out of my chest anytime now as I clutched the white envelope tightly in my hands, the stamp of the Crown a blood red, asking for attention against the snow-white paper. I forced a small smile onto my lips as I followed the crowd towards the ballroom, gut twisting as we were ushered past the Throne Room, a room that had witnessed so much horror ever since Jeong Yunho had become King.

Despite completely fitting in with the rich crowd surrounding me, curtesy of Prince Choi, I still felt like everyone could spot that I didn’t actually belong here. The fabric of my white dress was soft against my pale skin, the best I had ever had the chance to wear, and it fell loosely around my body. There wasn’t anything too eye catching or special about the dress Prince Choi had sent for this specific occasion, and that was the purpose. I was supposed to blend in with the rich crowd and lure the King away from the masses, where I would make sure he’d never again see tomorrow’s sunrise. It wasn’t an easy task, but tonight was the perfect timing. There wouldn’t be another one like this anytime soon as these balls were organized on full moon’s only by the King, whispers about a ritual practiced by him resurfacing every time the ball took place.

The top of my dress was low-cut and it made me feel uncomfortable for exposing so much of my skin, the tops of my breasts quite visible to anyone who looked my way, the slit in the ruffles of the skirt at least decent enough that it didn’t reach too high. The straps around my shoulders were puffy but delicate, the prettiest V line I had seen a dress have so far. Thankfully, the design of the expensive dress allowed to match gloves with it, and so, I was delighted when I saw the matching white silky gloves placed at the bottom of the box this dress had arrived in. The gloves were delicate and soft, a little cold when I have tried them on, and reached just above my elbows, the rest of my arms exposed. It was warm inside the ballroom; therefore, I didn’t worry that I would catch a cold accidentally. I have smoothed down my hair, the long curls reaching down the middle of my back, and kept it minimal when applying a little beauty enhancer to my face. The blush on my cheeks was artificial and so was the glitter on top of my eyelids, and the redness of my lips. I couldn’t do much about my pale complexion, and could only hope that the rich people wouldn’t think that I looked sick. The goal was to catch the King’s eye tonight.

When I had finally reached the top of the stairs that would lead down to the ballroom, further inside the lively chamber, a man dressed elegantly smiled widely and extended his hand towards me. I could only hope he wouldn’t pay enough attention to notice the nervousness on my face as I handed the envelope to him, watching as he delicately opened it. Inside it, there was a letter addressed to a respective Bae Joohyun, who happened to be fourth cousins with the King and the Prince. I found the idea crazy, to come to such an event under the pretence of being someone else and someone so close to the Royal family, but Prince San had assured me that they hadn’t seen their little cousin since they were five, and so, the King wouldn’t know what she looked like now. The pretence was perfect in the Prince’s head as he said my looks fit exactly that of their cousin: pale, petite, black haired, and dark eyed. Apparently, she was beautiful beyond comprehension, and I oozed a tenderness their cousin also had. I didn’t dare refute the Prince’s claims and just thanked him for helping me out once again. After all, if he wanted my mission to be a success, he had to play his part from the shadows.

“Miss Bae Joohyun, first of her name, eldest princess and head huntress of the burgh of La Rouge.” The man announced loudly to the ballroom as he read off my fake title from the invitation, and I tried to keep an amicable smile on my lips as a servant quickly rushed to my side, helping me down the marble set of stairs. It felt like everyone was staring at me in the room, which they were, and I tried to slow my heartbeat with deeps breaths in order to keep myself from fainting. I couldn’t even blame it on the restricting dress as I didn’t wear a corset, unlike many of the ladies present here tonight. It made me feel out of place, but trusting Prince San’s words, the actual Bae Joohyun wouldn’t have shown up in a restricting and puffed-up dress. She was a free spirit and often times went against the rules in order to live her life the way she wanted. Her parents weren’t too keen of her attitude and the choices she had made so far in her life, but they’d rather keep her close and not her younger sister, who apparently was a rascal and everyone’s nightmare in the burgh of La Rouge. The burgh resided on the other side of the Kingdom of the Fallen and was a lot more lenient compared to Aurora, that is, until King Jeong manages to expand his believes that far out, poisoning the innocent people of La Rouge, like he had done to us in Aurora.

And just like that, the night seemed to go on uneventfully, besides the unwanted attention men, and women alike, seemed to offer me. I wasn’t looking for anyone’s company, but I knew if I kept to myself, hidden in a corner, I would get nothing done tonight, and I couldn’t let that happen. I had to raise attention onto myself if I wanted the King to find me appealing, and that was only achievable if I was surrounded by men who made me laugh loudly, even if it was forced often times. I had managed to come closer to the King more than once, but so it seemed he was too busy staring down the cleavage of the dress of whatever lady he had been talking to at the moment, clearly uninterested in whatever they had to say. His loyal dogs were around too, of course, both dressed to the nines as they surveyed the crowd, mingling with the people at times. Song Mingi remained close to the King, however, but wasn’t breathing down his neck like usual, his outfit a lot more casual than one was used to seeing him wear. His body was littered with accessories, and I accidentally had caught sight of the redhead ripping the silver chain off as it hung around the man’s narrow waist over the tight vest Song Mingi was wearing. A heated exchange between the two seemed to happen afterwards, with the taller guard backing the redhead against a pillar, sneering into her face, until the King showed up and merely tapped the two on the shoulder before walking away, beaming at a blonde woman with a dark look in his eyes.

The longer I watched the King, the angrier I became that nobody could see through his obvious façade, of the fakeness in his laughter and smiles, that they couldn’t see his eyes darkening and a sick twist crossing his features any time someone said something he didn’t enjoy. Everyone remained oblivious to his so obvious show of dominance whenever a man managed to capture the attention of those around themselves. It was pathetic really, how badly the King needed to have all the attention in the big room on himself, yearning for the praises and ass-licking these rich people were doing. It was sickening and so infuriating as I watched him throw his head back in delight, laughter melodic but loud enough to have others glancing his way, flocking towards the small group, because it was the King. And if the King found something hilarious and worth his time, everyone else wanted to know what it was about, striving to capture his attention like that. My jaw was clenched as I watched another woman wander towards him, looking abashed when the King so much as glanced her way in passing, batting her eyelashes at him. I couldn’t even fathom the thought of wanting the King’s attention purposefully, not when so much blood lay on his hands, so much terror and horror committed under his reign, under his command.

I nursed a tall glass of champagne in my hands as I surveyed the crowd, searching for Song Mingi and the redhead, finding them in different parts of the ballroom, both seemingly busy with the people they were respectively talking to. The King, however, happened to be closer to me as he was talking to two gentlemen, face impassive as he only hummed and nodded at whatever they were saying. For a second, he glanced ahead, and our eyes connected. My breath hitched and I fought every fibre in my body wanting to look away, knowing that the King liked a good chase and a little provocation. If I looked away, I would admit defeat, and he didn’t like women who weren’t a little fiery, harder to break. The thought made me sick but I quickly disregarded it and hid my fake smile as I took the smallest sip I could of my champagne, knowing that my plan was working as the King’s eyes bore into mine, narrowing. It wasn’t the first time our eyes accidentally met during the night, and I was completely convinced that his curiosity was growing the more I seemed to be teasing him. Always around, yet never approaching him. Always around, yet never actively asking for his attention. I could see his fierce eyes on me every time I laughed a little too loudly, or anytime I playfully touched a gentleman’s bicep for a second too long. The King might’ve thought I wasn’t looking, but I was. And my plan was working just perfectly. The mission would finally turn out to be a success tonight.

“Miss Bae,” My attention was ripped away from the King as a moderately tall man stopped in front of me, lips heart shaped, and kind eyes sharper rather than rounder. The man’s voice was rather deep, yet soft, and he looked almost a little shy, “I did not know you would be attending tonight’s ball.”

I plastered on a soft smile and tried to act like I knew the man in front of me. Prince San didn’t really tell me who I was supposed to know tonight, and so I had to be creative when catching other people’s names, “It came as a surprise to me as well.”

The man chuckled as he covered his mouth with a soft looking hand, eyes glinting in amusement. He didn’t look like he had dubious reasons for talking to me, unlike many other men so far tonight, and his eyes had not even once fallen onto my cleavage, “Did your father send you in hopes of finding a suitor?”

“Perhaps that was the reason,” I mussed as I took a sip of my champagne, aware of the King’s eyes on me as I continued talking to the kind man, “it seems like he won’t accept the fact that I do not wish to marry.”

“Perhaps you haven’t met the right man yet.” Ah, the likeableness of this man just plummeted as my eyebrows furrowed, and he seemed alarmed as he realized what he had said, “Oh! I was not suggesting that you should marry or anything else, Miss Bae! It is completely alright to not want to marry, I do not wish to marry either.”

“Lovely,” I hummed, not interested in the conversation anymore. The King was moving away and I had to remain close to him, “I didn’t catch your name, sir.”

“Do Kyungsoo, Miss Bae, I see the passing of the years made you forget about me.” I gulped, nervous all of a sudden as Mr. Do chuckled. I had no idea who he was, but I was sure the real Bae Joohyun would know. So, I chuckled abashed, looking down in fake embarrassment.

“My apologies, I haven’t been to Aurora in so long…” Mr. Do nodded in understanding, downing the rest of his champagne in one go.

“Then I must leave you alone to mingle some more, right?” He sounded slightly disappointed, and I couldn’t help but think that the bond between Miss Bae and Mr. Do once had ran deeper than it seemed. I cleared my throat and excused myself with a bow of my head, looking for the King. The crowd was large and as the music had gotten louder, a dance floor had formed in the middle of the big room. Everyone was loud as more champagne and expensive wine was consumed, both men and women getting bolder and handsy with each other. I tried not to see the disappearing couples behind pillars and curtains as I walked past them, quiet moans or groans alarming to hear. I was no prude, but doing anything like that just felt wrong in a place like this. Besides, I wouldn’t have dared doing anything relatively inadequate in the house of the King, under his watchful eyes.

“Miss Bae.” I jumped as the velvety voice whispered in my ear, almost making me punch their gut as I whirled around, “You’ve been alone ever since I have left your side.”

Mr. Byun wasn’t exactly the man I wished to be around right now; eyes hazed over as his breath reeked of alcohol. He had set his eyes on me the second the servant had announced my name and title, lurking around me after presenting himself and talking to me.

“You are quite wrong,” I chuckled, trying not to glare at him as he reached out a hand and twirled a dark strand of my hair between his fingers, “I have been talking to others too, Mr. Byun.”

“None as promising and handsome as myself, right?” The man smirked, overly sure of himself, making my jaw clench as I forced a chuckle to leave my lips. All this unwanted attention certainly hadn’t been part of my plan, I thought nobody would give me even as much as a second glance, busy with others, with people they already knew. All these men were making this experience even less pleasant, as if being in the lion’s den was pleasant in the first place.

“What a confident man,” I smiled widely, placing my empty glass on a tray as a servant walked by us, “I bet the ladies love being around you, Mr. Byun.”

“Hopefully you are one of those ladies yourself, Miss Bae.” Mr. Byun winked and suddenly bowed, extending a hand towards me, “Would you offer me your first dance of the night, love?”

No, I would not like to offer you my first dance of the night, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t refuse a dance, whether I liked the idea or not. I had started thinking that my plan had been flawed from the very beginning and that I wouldn’t succeed in fulfilling my mission, that is, until I felt a gloved hand sneaking around my waist, firmly yanking me into the side of a body. My eyes widened as I gasped at the sudden feeling, head snapping up, dread filling my whole being. The King was glaring down at Mr. Byun as his hold tightened around my waist, and I almost flung myself out of his grip, skin burning through the fabric where the King had touched me. Despite my goal being exactly this, to find myself in the arms of the King, it felt wrong. Very wrong. I wanted nothing more than to run away, but I steeled my nerves and hushed the thoughts that were screaming to run far away from the tyrant, and managed to ease a soft smile on my lips.

“Mr. Byun,” The King grinned, however it didn’t reach his dark eyes, “already drunk and close to passing out? It’s been only two hours since the ball started, you fool.”

Mr. Byun’s jaw clenched, but he had no choice but to bow his head in respect, “My apologies, Your Grace, I might have gotten carried away.”

“Most certainly if you thought you could dance with such beautiful maiden.” It was my turn to clench my jaw at the King’s insinuation, but I willed my heartrate to calm down and muscles to relax as the King’s dark gaze was directed onto me now, “Shall we dance, gorgeous?”

“Yes, Your Grace.” I bowed my head and forced a timid smile onto my lips as the King’s ring, claw, decorated hand found my waist too, grip firm as he veered me in front of himself and made us walk towards the dance floor. My back straightened as I tried to calm down and not tense up when the King’s hands squeezed my waist just a little bit more, narrowly avoiding a couple as they were dancing around a little too wildly for the King’s liking as he leered at them. I closed my eyes when I felt ourselves stop in the middle of the dance floor, and took a deep breath. I could do this, for the future of the Fallen of the Kingdom, for our nation, and for Prince Choi San. I could do this, and I would do this.

When I blinked my eyes open, the King was stood in front of me, a dangerous smirk on his plush red lips, staring down with hunger in his eyes as they racked down my body. I gulped and gasped when I was forcefully yanked against his broad and strong body, ring decorated hand curling into my hips as his gloved hand took mine in his, holding it a lot gentler than I expected him to. As I looked up, making eye contact with the King, he took a step forward, slowly easing us into a waltz that matched the pace of the orchestra and of those dancing around us too.

The King wore fine garments, moulded for his body, almost like a second layer for his venomous skin. His black trousers with fine white stripes clung to his long legs perfectly, enunciating his proportions even more as they were tucked into shiny tall boots that reached just bellow the King’s knees. The brown belt was hidden by the black vest clinging onto his upper body, the same fabric of his trousers seemingly sewn together with the vest’s fabric on his left shoulder and the lower right side of it. However, the back of the vest was completely different, a white fabric with black swirls on it. A black necktie was tucked underneath the King’s vest, a fine necklace with beads and a silver cross sitting on top of it, with a matching rosary hanging on top of his vest and necktie altogether. There was nothing holy about the King, it was a mere display of mockery in the Lord’s name that even such dark creature could wear and touch something so holy. The white shirt’s right sleeve was rolled up to the King’s elbows, bracelets that matched his rosary hanging snugly against his thin wrist, his metal rings, claws, eye-catching and on display for everyone to see. The left sleeve of his white shirt was tucked underneath his black leather gloves, crunching quietly as the King’s fingers tightened around mine. I tried to remain calm as the prolonged eye contact put me on edge, and I fought to stay confident and repress all the nightmarish memories of the King.

“It’s been a while, cousin.” I couldn’t completely read the expression on the King’s face, and so I only gulped. Words seemed to have escaped me, and it only made my stomach clench more when the King’s eyes fell onto my cleavage again, all too aware of how exposed I was. But it was on purpose, Prince San knew the King’s vices, and he was using it to our advantage when he had gifted this dress to me, “I don’t remember you being this quiet, Joohyun, dear.”

I gulped and scoffed, irritation not so fake anymore, “People change, Your Grace, and I have too.”

“Did your daddy tell you to behave well tonight?” His question didn’t sit well with me, especially the tone he had said it with, but I just ignored it as I rolled my eyes at the King, “Did he think you’d be rewarded for it?”

My face flushed at the implication, and it took me everything to not rip myself away from the King right then and there as I felt the sharp ends of his ornaments dig into my skin through the thin fabric of my white dress, “I’m not looking for anything, Yunho, I’m merely here to socialize, see what my cousin is up to lately.”

“I’m doing just fine, dear, as you can see.” The King chuckled, and I felt him pulling me flushed against himself, making my heartbeat quicken as I had to crane my neck to look up at him, “The Kingdom is flourishing and Aurora is doing better than it had been under King Choi’s regiment.”

“You’ve certainly brought some changes to it, Your Grace.” I couldn’t contain the snarl in my tone as I averted my eyes, staring at the rosary instead while the King just chuckled. There was nothing hilarious about what I had said, but of course, it would’ve been alarming if the King thought the way he ruled wasn’t right, “Do you plan on ruining the Kingdom of the Fallen even more?”

The King’s eyes hardened as I looked back up in his eyes, jaw clenching as I felt his right hand slowly slip lower, pressing flat against the small of my back. The action made goosebumps erupt on my skin, and I tried not to shudder as the King merely smirked, no doubt noticing my reaction to his undesired touch.

“I see your passion for the wellbeing of my Kingdom hasn’t changed, dear Joohyun.” The King smiled, but it was far from genuine, he looked irritated, “Why don’t you become Queen and mould it to your own likes?”

“Is that what you are doing right now?” I cocked an eyebrow and chuckled, “Playing with your people as if you were playing chess? What’s next, a war against the Kingdom of Light? You know their Queen can’t wait to destroy you, Yunho.”

“How saddening she’ll never get the chance to do so.” The glint in the King’s eyes was scary, they held a secret so dark I probably didn’t want to know, but I was curious. He was planning something, something dangerous and big, and I needed to find out what. But that would take time, and if I managed to kill him tonight, that dark secret of his would die with him.

“Indeed,” I chuckled and tried to ignore the way the King’s hand slipped further down, fingers barely brushing against my ass. Why was he doing this? He surely could’ve found other ladies that weren’t related to him, since he was under the impression that I was his cousin, even if not a close relative, still blood-related to him, “I see your goons never leave your side, Your Grace.”

The King’s head fell backwards as he laughed, chest shaking with the motion, the first genuine reaction I had ever seen on him. It stunned me, but I tried not to gape. I glanced to the side, unsurprised as I found Song Mingi staring daggers our way, twirling a knife in his hands. The redhead was dancing, but her eyes were solely fixed on the King as well, probably deaf to whatever the man holding her was saying to her.

“My goons, are my most loyal guards, dear, of course they never leave my side.” The King finally seemed to get over my words as he had stopped laughing and was instead grinning, glancing to the side like I had done so. His eyes softened for a second as they fell on Song Mingi, and then his cold exterior was back on as his eyes fell down on me, “It’s their duty, after all.”

“It looks like a little bit more than just duty, Your Grace.” I smirked, heart stilling when I felt the King unashamedly squeeze my ass. I jumped and tried not to sputter as he flushed me fully against himself, a sickening smirk pulling at his lips.

“Perhaps it is more than just duty.” The King whispered, winking as he lowered his head just a little bit, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. I tensed, eyes wide as I continued staring at him slightly frightened, “You smell like fresh roses, so sweet.”

I tried not to show how disgusted I felt, and instead chuckled lightly, “Thank you, Your Grace. Tell me a little secret…do your loyal dogs follow you everywhere?”

The King quirked an eyebrow, prompting me to continue as his clawed fingers pressed a little harsher into my clothed ass, “Or do your guards offer you privacy when times call for desperate measures?”

The King chuckled, leaning down so that he’d be able to whisper in my ear. I tried to remain relaxed as his hot lips brushed against my ear, tone low and words dripping with allure, “They know when not to follow, dear, would you like to see for yourself?”

As the King pulled back, bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes dropped to my cleavage again, I knew this was it. I wouldn’t get a better chance where the King and I were alone, “Since you offered so nicely, My King.”

The King’s eyes darkened significantly as he released his bottom lip and licked his lips, nodding once. Before I could change my mind about what I had agreed to and flee, the King took a step back and released my body, however still kept a firm grip on our intertwined fingers, our gloves a clash of colours against each other. The crowd seemed to part as the King walked through it, curious eyes watching closely as I followed after the King, struggling to keep up with his long strides, but he wouldn’t slow down for me. I gripped the skirt of my dress and raised it above my ankles in order to not trip, paying close attention to my surroundings for when I needed to escape. It wouldn’t be easy as we were on the third floor and all windows seemed to be locked in the long corridor, and I could only hope I would find a hidden door that would lead through a passageway, helping me escape once I had killed the King.

I didn’t expect us to stop so soon, and so I ran into the back of the King, making him chuckle. He wordlessly pushed the door open for us, and allowed me to walk in first, releasing my hand. I took a deep breath before I stepped through the threshold and tried not to gape at the size of the library I had just stepped foot inside. The walls were covered in nothing but endless shelves of books upon books, a room that had two floors, ladders pressed up against the tall bookshelves for when you needed something from a higher shelf. The room was beautiful, and something vexing like jealousy plunged deep in my gut, jealousy that the King had all of this beauty at his feet while others had to suffer out in the cold streets, begging for a shilling as nobody had much money to pay up. But before I could marvel at the beauty of the library even more, I felt myself yanked backwards. The wind was knocked out of my lungs as my back collided against the sturdy bookshelves, and I panicked thinking that my identity had been discovered, that the King finally had enough of me. I was ready to fight him, grab my hidden dagger and stab him in the heart, fight and flee afterwards, but what I didn’t expecting was to feel his blood-red lips pressing against mine. I froze, eyes wide in awestruck as the King’s lips were warmer than I thought they would be, and really soft. It was a crime that somebody like him had lips like that. Out of distress, I grabbed his biceps and went to push the King away, but I realized that would be a mistake. How else could I distract him if not like this? He’d have his guard down, offering me the perfect chance to stab him. And so, I swallowed the disgust bubbling up my throat and forced my eyes to close as my fingers dug into the King’s skin through the soft fabric of his white shirt.

His right hand grabbed my jaw to tilt my head up, making it easier for him to continue leaning down to kiss me, his rings not quite digging into my skin, but dangerously close to doing so. My heart was racing as the King’s lips started moving against mine, not soft at all, not careful nor patient as I forced myself to reciprocate it. It was hard, every fibre in my body was screaming at me to stop this, that I could distract him somehow else, but a more logical side of me knew that I just couldn’t. I was doing this for Aurora, for the Kingdom of the Fallen, and so I relaxed against the King’s strong body and forced my thoughts to silence. My arms raised and I wrapped them around the King’s shoulders, pressing up on my tip toes to kiss him better, opening my mouth for his lips to fit better against mine. The King didn’t waste time as his tongue slipped past my lips and lapped at my mouth furiously, a moan slipping past my lips as I fisted the black strands of hair sitting neatly on his nape. The King seemed to enjoy that as his claws suddenly dug into my skin, making me whine as his tongue brushed against mine, licking at it in a way I didn’t know was possible, my knees weakening involuntarily as the King’s body pinned me against the bookshelf, immobilising me, caging me between himself and the bookshelves. It was a little scary, but I didn’t dwell on it as the King sucked on my tongue, completely dirty and nothing like I have experienced before, my cheeks flaring as I felt his gloved hand settle at the base of my throat. My heart picked up thinking that he would try and choke me, rob me of my already waning air, but instead, it slowly slipped towards my breasts, cupping my right one harshly. I moaned and chased after his mouth as he pulled slightly back, slotting my upper lip between his, suckling on his bottom one as the King started massaging my breast through the thin fabric of my dress, groaning loudly into my mouth.

It was starting to get hot around me, our actions affecting my body in ways it long hadn’t been affected like, the touches of the King igniting a dormant fire deep in the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t fair that he could elicit such a reaction out of me, not when I bore nothing but hatred towards him. It wasn’t fair that I had to go out of my way to do something I didn’t wish to do in order to get rid of the tyrant, and it only fuelled the fire in my veins as I latched onto the King’s lips furiously, setting a pace that was bruising to our already swollen lips. Low groans slipped past the King’s lips as our noses kept knocking against each other, his right hand leaving my face as it went behind my body, grasping my ass painfully. I gasped and tried not to recoil when the King suddenly licked at my bottom lip, humming lowly in the back of his throat as he flushed our lower bodies together, rutting into me. My heart was hammering against my ribcage and I felt like I couldn’t breathe, but I refused to open my eyes, scared that I would run away if we made eye contact. The King groaned as he massaged my flesh through my dress, and the hand still squeezing my breast finally disappeared and grabbed onto the other cheek of my ass before it slowly slipped back onto my lower back, fisting my dress. My chest was rising and falling quickly, and I tried to regulate my breaths and clear my mind, assess the situation in order to be able to proceed. But suddenly, I felt cold metal pressing into my skin, grabbing my jaw firmly.

“Open your eyes, little dove.” My heart did a somersault and I froze, thoughts running a million per hour, panicking. Had he finally realized who I really was? I felt teeth sinking into my bottom lip painfully and I whined as my eyes snapped open, freezing as the King’s dark eyes were right in front of mine. His neck, ears, and cheeks were flushed red, lips swollen and glistening with saliva. His pupils were dilated and he smirked as he massaged the small of my back, suddenly his thumb swiping across my lower lip. I couldn’t look away, it felt like he had bewitched me, locked me into place as I struggled to fill my lungs to the brim with air. I was scared, waiting for the predator’s next move, trying to anticipate what he’d do next. But I certainly didn’t think he’d slip the sharp metal ring inside my mouth, forefinger pressing against my tongue, “Suck.”

I gulped and maintained eye contact with the King as I licked his finger, trying to ignore the animalistic look on his face as I hollowed my cheeks and sucked on his ornament decorated finger slowly, swirling my tongue around it. The King leaned closer, lips hovering dangerously close to mine, brushing against his own knuckles. The King was panting hard as he slipped his middle finger too inside my mouth, and I tried to remain calm as I became aware of the ache in my right hand, the mark he had given me three years ago suddenly burning as if it were freshly made. I wouldn’t be able to handle this for much longer, gut twisting in sickness, yet my body was pressing harder against the King’s, aware of the neediness that had suddenly overcome it. I pushed my tongue between the King’s two fingers and sucked on them, making the King’s jaw clench until he suddenly pulled them out of my mouth, making saliva drip down my chin. I was embarrassed and my cheeks burned as he grabbed my left thigh, lifting it up and around his hips, pressing his body into mine, the hardness all too obvious in his trousers as he rubbed himself against me. My breath hitched in my throat at the friction, the King’s eyes glossed over as he released my thigh once he was sure I’d keep it there. My fingers tangled tighter into his locks as he allowed his metal decorated fingers to travel up my exposed thigh due to the slit in the skirt, only stopping when it reached my clothed core. I tried to stop the whimper from escaping my lips as I bit down on my bottom one, completely at the King’s mercy as he started rubbing small circles against my clothed clit, embarrassed of how reactive I was to his ministrations. I was aching, clenching around nothing, but I forced myself to stay level-headed as I fisted the collar of the King’s shirt and yanked him down, pressing our lips together once more, forcefully. I locked his hips against mine with my left leg and rolled my hip against the King’s hand, whining as he kept the slow, antagonizing, pace. I made sure he was busy with working me further up as I slowly slipped my left hand out of his hair, down his shoulders, stopping at his narrow waist to squeeze before I carefully removed it from his body, leaning a little forward and into the King in order to reach the top of my white boot.

My dagger was hidden just inside of it, the cold blade pressing against my shin all night long, waiting for this exact moment. I could feel the triumph in my bloodstream as I gripped the handle of the blade, moaning as the King cupped my clothed core, but stopped his ministrations altogether. I didn’t stop kissing him, however, as I raised my dagger high, ready to plunge it deep into the King’s back. But before I could even as much as move my arm, suddenly, my head was slammed to the side, making me hiss loudly at the dull ache in my jaw as it crashed into the bookshelf painfully, my left arm pinned to the bookshelf above myself. I froze, blood turning ice cold as I was afraid to even as much as breathe despite my lungs heaving for air. The King’s nose suddenly was pressing into my left cheek, his sweaty forehead resting against my temple as his breathing was loud and shallow. I didn’t dare move, frozen to the spot. I had been discovered, and now I would die. I would fail Prince San and bring shame to my name. I was nothing but a failure, soon about to meet my brother in Eden.

“Bae Joohyun, you say,” The King chuckled, sounding actually amused, “I didn’t know my own cousin hated me so much she wanted to kill me herself?”

I took quiet breaths, but didn’t speak up. It seemed like the King still had something to say, I didn’t dare interrupt his monologue, “I didn’t think your unrelenting support could turn into hatred in two weeks, cousin.”

Ah, so this is where Prince San had made a mistake. Bae Joohyun and Jeong Yunho had been in contact all this time, and apparently, she was on his side. Prince San should’ve known better, but so should have I. I should’ve trusted my gut feeling this time, and I didn’t, and now I would suffer the consequences. Because darkness always prevailed, no matter how much the good and kind fought for its disappearance.

“People change.” I managed to mutter, right side of my face digging painfully into the shelf. I wasn’t panting anymore, but my frantic heartbeat made it hard to actually breathe, and so I was still struggling to calm down.

“Not you, little dove.” The King whispered, and suddenly I felt lips pressing against my ear, making me jerk. The King was frighteningly strong, and I finally started pushing against him, trying to free myself, but it was futile…as always, “Stop fighting against me, you’ll only make it worse for yourself.”

“Burn in hell, Jeong Yunho.” I hissed, trying to look at him from the corner of my eyes. The King chuckled, trailing kisses from my temple down to my jaw. I tried to push him off again, but it did nothing.

“Still trying to curse me,” The King muttered, nuzzling his nose against my cheek again, “I suppose you didn’t change, my little dove. Did you think I’d forget? Was it worth that apple?”

My eyes widened to the point of falling out as the King suddenly released me, my head snapping forward as my heartbeat stilled. I went to throw a punch at his jaw, but he completely took me off guard as he grabbed my right thigh too and hiked me up, pressing me into the bookshelf again as he pinned my wrists above my head, the dagger clattering to the floor from my grip. Out of reflex, my legs wrapped around his hips tighter, knowing that I would slip down despite the force the King was pinning me down with.

“You killed my brother.” Was all I managed to whisper, eyes filling with tears. The King shushed me and leaned his head close, his soft features scary all of a sudden as his blank mask slipped back on.

“You killed your brother by stealing that apple and getting caught for it.” The King whispered, eyebrows furrowing, “If you wouldn’t have put up such a fight, I wouldn’t have thrown you in the dungeon, in fact, I would’ve allowed you to take the leftovers from the kitchen for your brother—”

“Screw you!” I screamed, fury lacing every part of my being, heart hammering in my ribcage, “Curse you! Burn in hell for everything you’ve done! You dare mock me to my face about my brother?! I promise you I will make sure you don’t see tomorrow’s sunrise!”

“Bold words coming from such a frail dove like yourself,” The King mocked, pouting as my body started trembling, “I could behead you right in the middle of the ballroom, my little dove.”

I didn’t care anymore what he did to me. He could kill me right here or right in front of an audience, I didn’t care anymore as long as I was free of this miserable life.

“Do it.” I gritted through my teeth, leaning into his face, lips ghosting against his, “Do it, you fucking coward. You could’ve easily killed me in the alleyway that night or in the square, even now, yet all you do is run your mouth with empty threats.”

I knew they weren’t empty threats, that the King would actually kill me in the following minutes, but I wasn’t afraid of him anymore. I have seen all grey colours of his, I knew who he was, what he was capable of.

“If I had killed you, where would be the fun in that?” The King raised his eyebrows, pressing a light kiss against my lips, making me jerk my head back, “You think I don’t know my brother and his pathetic of excuse of a guard sent you to kill me? Little dove, if they wanted me dead so bad, why didn’t they come after me? Why did they send you?”

I froze, eyebrows furrowing as the King continued with a small amused smile, “They sent a poor girl that is desperate to avenge her brother’s death, a girl that is so weak she can’t even free herself right now, yet all I’m doing is pin you against a bookshelf, little dove. My brother, Prince San, and his pest, Jung Wooyoung, merely sent a weak and poor girl to kill a King that holds twice the strength she does just because they wanted to use you, because they knew you hated me strong enough to actually do what they asked of you. They knew you had nothing to lose anymore, and they know you do not care for your safety or life anymore, my little dove.”

I was stunned listening to the King’s words, slowly shaking my head no, refusing to accept such words. No, that is not why Prince San and Sir Jung had chosen me to eliminate the King, it couldn’t be. That’s not who those two were, and I would’ve been a fool if I succumbed to the King’s words, letting his poisonous words infect my brain with lies.

“No, you’re wrong, My King,” I whispered, eyes boring into his with such hatred that it ricochetted off my whole being, “Prince Choi and Sir Jung aren’t like you. And if I’m just a means to an end in their grand plan, I do not care as long as they manage to rid the Kingdom and this world of you, Jeong Yunho.”

The King hissed, obviously displeased by my retaliation, by my fervorous belief in the Prince and his Royal Guard, “I see you refuse to see the truth just yet, my little dove, so let me give you two options.”

My eyebrows furrowed as the King leaned so close his breath fanned over my face, dark and piercing eyes boring into mine, his cheeks still tinged red, “The very obvious first option is death, but I don’t feel like getting rid of you just yet, my little dove, therefore, I have a second option for you.”

He paused, a sick smirk twisting his lips to the side, making my stomach drop in dread, “You become my good little obedient spy, my ears and eyes in Aurora, and in return, I shall reward you with immunity.”

“No—” I was shaking my head before he could even finish what he was saying, but the King’s sneering face quickly made me shut up.

“I wasn’t finished talking, Y/N.” My breath hitched, he even knew my name, “You will go back this instant to the pathetic mansion those two idiots are hiding in, and tell them, that if they even as much as dare to think to send someone to assassinate me again, I will dismember Jung Wooyoung in front of Choi San after I dissect their whore of a maid, leaving my dear brother for last, publicly executing him in the square, calling all of the Kingdom of the Fallen together to witness the fall of the Crown Prince. Understood?”

My lips quivered as my eyes filled with tears, my voice merely above a whisper, “No, Your Grace, I won’t—”

“I’m not giving you an option, my little dove,” The King suddenly released my arms, which fell limply next to my body as the King cupped my left cheek with his sharp metal rings, “I’m giving you an order that you will execute.”

I tried to blink the tears away, recoiling when one slipped down my cheek and the King kissed it away, “And once you have delivered my message, I expect you back at the Castle, my little dove.”

My breath stuttered in my throat, wide eyes looking into the King’s dark ones. Suddenly, he bucked his hips and I gasped as I realised he was still as hard as mere minutes ago, making my heart race, “Because little doves like you deserve a reward, and you’ve been awfully pliant tonight, so I will fuck you senseless and teach you a lesson afterwards.”

My blood froze, the colour leaving my face as the King snickered, pressing a soft kiss against the bridge of my nose as he suddenly stepped back, gently placing me back down against the floor. I felt abused, thrown around and mauled, skin burning everywhere the King had touched. I was disgusted, and yet I knew I had no choice but to do as I was told. I belonged to him, and even if I ran, he would find me. I gulped as the King’s gloved fingers danced up my gloved arm, slowly slipping the silky fabric down my hand, making me shiver. I clenched my jaw and refused to look down as the King raised my hand, staring at the damaged skin in awe. His lips were parted and he took a deep breath, slowly leaning down and kissing the maimed skin he had caused with his own hands three years ago. I closed my eyes shut tightly, trying to fight the tears that threatened to escape.

“So beautiful,” The King whispered, hot lips brushing feather-light against the skin of my right hand, “Mine, little dove, you’re all mine. You always have been.”

I gulped as I looked at the King, jaw clenching as I yanked my hand out of his and quickly wore my glove, hiding the atrocious scar that he had caused. The King seemed to be in a trance as he stared at me, making my heartbeat quicken even more when he didn’t say anything.

I needed to leave, I felt like I was suffocating.

“My Mingi will meet you in the back gardens, my little dove, ready with a horse.” My blood ran cold, hands turning into fists as the King turned away from me, walking towards the massive oak desk he had in the middle of the library, “I expect you back in an hour, my little dove, and if you don’t come back, I will burn down everything in my way to find you. Understood?”

I grit my teeth, staring daggers into the back of his head, “Understood, Your Grace.”

And if finding a different way to kill the King would be the cause of my last breath, I would still do it. This wasn’t the end, he hadn’t won yet, because I would always remain on Prince Choi and Sir Jung’s side, always. In fact, the King had made is easier for us to find out all of his weak points, easier to stab him in the back when he least expects it.

If I had to dedicate my whole life to bring down such evil, I would do it over and over again, because in the end, goodness always wins.

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boxofbonesfic · 9 months

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Title: Brave [3 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: You manage to earn your day’s water, but also something else—Steve’s attention.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse

A/N: a little more world-building, some insights into pack culture—and what’s expected of our reader 👀 i hope you all enjoy!

The rabbit’s ears twitch as it lifts its twitching nose to the air. You’re downwind, so it can’t scent you, not unless the wind shifts. It’s been hours of you sitting here, waiting as one by one the rest of the pack peels off, searches for better pickings elsewhere. You don’t, though, remaining still and quiet until you’re the only one left crouching low in the grass.

She lifts her head higher, ears swiveling before she lowers her head back down to the sparse patch of green in a sea of dry brown, her whiskers trembling. Slowly, quietly, you creep forward, pausing each time she does as you get into position. You nock an arrow, sighting it down your pointer finger—the way Steve showed you.

The thought of him curdles your stomach, and you grimace. What does he care if I live or die? You think snidely, your lips tightening as you draw back the string with a firm, steady hand. You grit your teeth. He thinks you weak—you know the others think so. They speak it freely, and in truth you cannot blame them. Your survival feels like more of a mistake than anything, a cruel twist of luck that had denied you the end you were supposed to meet. You are as unsuited to this life as both the cobbler and the baker’s boy, and yet you breathe while they moulder.

Don’t miss.

You release the arrow, and much to your surprise, your aim is true. The arrow pins the rabbit, the tip sinking into the dirt behind it. Its back legs twitch, and briefly your stomach turns as you watch the light go out in its frightened black eyes. Unexpected tears gather in your eyes as you wrench the arrow from the rabbit’s still warm flesh, and wipe it on the grass.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble, placing a hand on its little head. “Thank you.”

“To live out here is to take life.” You aren’t surprised by Steve’s voice, nor his presences. You suppose it had been foolish, really, to think you were alone. You wipe furiously at your tears before glaring at him over your shoulder with red-rimmed eyes. “It was an honorable kill.”

You look down at your hands, and swallow thickly at the sight of dark red blood.

“I have never killed anything before.”

The orc sneers. “Then you have led a much more comfortable life than most anyone, man, orc, or beast.” He gestures to the rabbit. “Come. I do not think anyone will contest that you’ve earned your water tonight.” You watch as Steve strings up your kill, tying it to the back of your saddle.

—

You approach the fire-pit with your rabbit, your jaw clenched nervously as you twist the rope in your hands. The orc female tending the pot is as broad-shouldered and gruff as the males, her blond hair cropped close on the sides, the top long enough to fall across her eyes. She crosses her arms as you approach, a surprised, if wry, smile on her face.

“Well I’ll be.” She takes it from you, nodding in approval. “Clean kill. I’m impressed. I did not think a thing as dainty as you would be able to draw one of our bows.” You know she doesn’t mean it as an insult, merely an observation. Orcs, in your new estimation, seem to be overly fond of blunt communication, unbothered nuance or delicacy. You had never thought yourself particularly dainty, either; though as you look up at her you realize how small you are indeed.

“Thank you.” She turns to place your rabbit upon the chopping block she has cleared, and you look away as she begins to clean it. “What… what is your name?” You ask awkwardly, and she glances up at you.

“Carol.” She unsheathes a heavy looking short blade from her hip, slicing the rabbit from tail to nose. “You’ll make a fine hunter yet, little human,” she complements your work a second time, and you duck your head, your cheeks burning.

“I—I’ve never hunted before.” You admit. “Today was the first time.”

“Have you not? Perhaps I shall take you next time. Mayhap we can catch bigger than a rabbit.” She winks. Carol does not shoo you away, not even when the other orcs begin lining up with their own, impressive kills. Bucky is last, of course, a small deer strung up on a pole he carries easily by himself over one large shoulder.

“We should make jerky from this one. Salt it and dry the skins between the saddles,” Carol says, slapping its flank. You hope in vain that his slate gray eyes will not fall on you—but you feel their weight even as you busy yourself cleaning foraged carrots, and you hear the sneer in his voice.

“Making yourself useful?”

“She killed a rabbit today.” You had not expected Carol’s defense, and when you glance up at her, she stands with her body broadside in front of you, like she’s trying to block you from view. “A good kill, for her first time.”

Bucky scoffs. “Every one of us had a doe skinned and parted out before we were even weaned.” He sneers at you, the tusks poking out from his lower lip glinting menacingly. “But I suppose if you were an orc youngling, you might be blooded for it.”

Carol rolls her eyes.

“I just want to earn my water.” You say, meeting his gaze as you jut out your chin. “That’s all.” Bucky says nothing. He glances down at your rabbit, and then back up at you.

“It’s a good kill.” You swallow—that is probably the closes to a compliment that he’s apt to come. He turns on his heel and walks away, dirt crunching under his boots.

When Carol serves out the stew that night, you get a bowl—instead of the scraps you’d been allowed to take from the pot in the nights before, and your stomach groans audibly at the privilege of being full. For the first time, you find a—small—place by the fire that no one seems to mind you taking. In your bowl, you find almost an entire leg of rabbit. You look up, expecting to find Carol’s knowing gaze, but instead, your eyes connect with cool blue across the fire.

You look down quickly, pretending to ignore the weight of his eye as you bring a spoonful of stew to your lips.

“I beg your attention, brothers, sisters, people,” Steve’s voice carries across the fire-pit like a clap of thunder. The response is immediate, a curtain total silence dropping. Though there is no king among them, you think Steve might be the closest comparable thing.

“The day after tomorrow we ride for Tarrath. You know what this means; we will not stop. Not for rest, not for water.” You swallow the uncomfortable feeling that this speech is partially for your benefit. His bright blue eyes rest on yours. “Do not fall behind.”

Carol sits heavily on the log beside you, a bowl held in her large hands. It provides a welcome distraction, and you drop his gaze, turning to look at her.

“Eat up, little human,” she replies, gesturing at you with a spoon. “You will need your strength.” You bite into the rabbit, a mixture of gravy and grease running down your chin as she nods at you.

“Tomorrow, we hunt.”

to be continued

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i-luvsang · 7 months

Text

song for the dead — kang yeosang

pairing : hecate!yeosang x gn!ghost!reader ➖⟢ genres : angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, fantasy, strangers to lovers ➖⟢ cw : murder & death, drowning, mythological inaccuracies, nightmares ➖⟢ wc : 2.5K ➖⟢ for : the elysium falling collaboration event !

bonus : inspo pinterest board & playlist

about hecate : hecate (often pronounced heh . kah . tee) is the greek goddess of magic, witchcraft, the night, the moon, ghosts, necromancy, and is the protector of entryways/crossroads. she is closely associated with dogs, torches, and liminality.

if you were an idiot, you’d think the strikingly handsome man with a doberman at his side could see you. he’s all the way across the street, looking right in your direction, but you know it’s the old stone wall behind you that he’s really seeing. you turn your head to look for anything interesting, maybe a plant growing in the space between the rocks.

there’s nothing, just grey, boring stone, lit by the yellow-tinted street lamps lining the road.

when you turn your head back in his direction, you nearly yelp aloud. he’s staring straight into your eyes.

the thought that he’s like you flashes through your mind, and then a pedestrian who’s distracted by the phone in their hand swerves at the last moment to avoid crashing into him. that means they can see him. people who are seen are alive and people who are alive can’t see ghosts.

but the way his eyes stay trained right to yours sends a shiver crawling up your spine. as if he’s challenging you, telling you that he can see you.

you're convinced he can when his gaze never falters from you as your dead feet carry you to him. the solidifying factor is the way his dog’s eyes follow your figure too.

“you can see me.”

“i can.” the doberman doesn’t move from the man’s side, but its gaze is somehow wary and calculating. you’ve never seen that kind of look in a dog’s eyes before. you turn your attention back to the man in front of you.

“but you’re not a ghost.”

“no, i’m not.” it’s almost disappointing when he says that. you think it would have been nice to have a gorgeous ghost friend to wander the streets and coffee shops with. he would perfectly fulfill the “gorgeous” part of the application.

“so what are you?” you’ve found yourself to be far more brazzen in death now that you reckon there’s nothing else for you to lose.

“a god,” he answers simply, no conceit to the word, just honesty. that’s what convinces you it’s true. a human who thinks they are a god thinks they are better than what they really are. a god is a god, you suppose. he certainly looks like a god, his features sculpted to perfection and dark attire immaculate. the combination of his turtleneck, dress pants, oxford shoes, and long wool coat compliment his dark hair and eyes perfectly.

“not the god?” you question further, both of you easily ignoring the strange glances that people passing by throw at the man, or god, rather. he appears to be having a conversation with the air in front of him.

“not the one you think of.” he’s keen to giving answers that are straightforward, and yet they beg the asking of more questions. “there are many gods.”

“so which god are you?”

“i’m the god of many things. magic, the moon and the night, necromancy. and you, among other things.”

“me? how so?” you can’t lie and say he doesn’t intrigue you. it’s interesting that he can claim to be your god without sounding like he thinks he’s everything better than you.

“you’re a ghost.”

“so you’re the god of ghosts. and what, you’ve come to collect me and bring me to the underworld? seems like quite a menial task for the god of so many grand things.”

when he says your name aloud without ever having asked for it, you begin to wish you could take back the sarcasm you put into your words just moments ago. and yet, the tone of his voice is not threatening, more chiding than anything else. “you are right, it is not my duty to collect lost souls who still roam the earth. but the world is far different now than it once was for gods such as i. in the modern era, most ghosts do not know that i see them. evidently, you can tell. thus, you fall under my protection.”

a sort of warmth is planted in your chest at these words, a warmth you’ve been missing since the moment you realized that you were dead. you’re always, always cold. you’d think physical discomfort would leave you in death, but you can’t escape the chill that’s settled all the way down to your ghostly bones.

“but i’m already dead. what’s there to protect me from?” you keep up the cold front regardless of the way he made you feel just now. his gaze softens.

“your human life is over. your consciousness, clearly, is not. i think you’ve forgotten that you can still feel. ghosts are haunted too.” this time his words make you want to cry. you didn’t forget to feel. you simply choose to ignore it all and now he’s pulling it out of its box and showing it to you. you tear your gaze away from the sincere look on his face.

“can i pet your dog?” you make eye contact with the animal instead. he sighs.

“you may. she doesn’t bite unless i say.” talking about her he doesn’t sound so stern anymore, despite the vaguely threatening nature of the words he says.

a small smile finds its way to your face as you crouch to be more level with her. she’s stunning, her look just as god-like as her companion.

“hello,” you say, voice soft, but full of respect. reaching out, the feel of her fur and the warmth of her very living body sends a shiver through you. you forget you haven’t touched anything alive and breathing since you became a ghost until you feel her move underneath your touch. it’s exhilarating and comforting all at once. a breath you didn’t realize you were holding falls from your lips in a heavy, heavy sigh. as if she knows the way you feel, she steps closer to you and rests her long snout on your shoulder. it’s the closest thing to a hug that you’ve received since the night of the dark new moon and the dark eyes and the dark water and your breath catches in your throat as if it’s been stolen from you.

a hand on your shoulder startles you and breath comes rushing into your lungs in the form of a gasp. suddenly, you’re not dying anymore, like you were just a moment ago. then you realize you were dying over again in your head, that you’re already dead, and the god is calling your name softly.

you look up at him and the hint of melancholy in his eyes. the dog’s comfort is still there.

“you see now? i’m not forcing you to come with me or accept my help, but there are things i can provide you that no one else can. and i’d like to help if you’ll let me.” he’s genuine. who knew a god could be so kind.

when he holds out his hand, you are quick to take it. his flesh is not warm like that of his dog’s, but there’s comfort in his grip notheless. you stand and let your hand fall from his.

“thank you.” your voice is barely audible, but he hears it. you let your eyes meet his and realize you don’t know his name.

“you may call me yeosang.” he gives you the answer to the question you didn’t even ask aloud. then he does it again. “and, no, i can’t read your mind. but i can read enough from your eyes.”

“thank you, yeosang.”

“you’re welcome,” he says with that velvety deep voice of his. “i’d like to take you to a place for you to call home from now on. is that alright?”

it sounds lovely, but you hesitate. you think of the people you loved, the one’s you’ve been searching for. somehow, you can never find them, like they’re the ghosts and not you. you’re almost grateful, barely able to acknowledge how much seeing them would hurt.

your hesitance speaks loud enough for yeosang to know. “you will not ever be able to see them. just as they cannot see you, the people you loved in this life will not appear to you again until they too are dead. i’m sorry.” you sigh at the confirmation of what you already expected.

“then yes. take me there.” anywhere but here.

he nods to you, then to his doberman and she takes the lead, down the cobblestone road.

that night is the first time that you see magic. you see it now everyday. first is the moon, almost full, and following you as you walk. really, it’s following him, forever hanging right over his head no matter which direction you turn. you’re sure no one else can see it, but you can’t stop watching it move through the sky, completely disregarding any laws of science.

then, you get to see the way sparks fly from the palms of his hands and cast flickering shadows on the walls of a darkened alleyway. this time, when he grabs your hand, it’s so searing hot that you shut your eyes tight and almost yank yourself away despite the warning he gave moments ago. then, there’s wind whipping at your hair and a numbing chill in the air that wasn’t there moments ago. you open your eyes and it’s clear that you’re no longer in that alley. of course, he warned you about this too—the fact that you’d be teleporting halfway across the globe to the edge of the human world and walking into the prison turned paradise of the old, forgotten gods such as himself.

that night is the first night that you sleep in his home. you sleep there every night now. he gives you a room in the house that he claims is far smaller than anything he lived in during his prime, but is grander than any building you think you ever set foot in during your life.

slowly, he introduces you to friends of his. some gods, a few other ghosts or servants from the old underworld.

and slowly, he introduces you to feeling again. sometimes, it’s a nightmare. literally. you’ll wake in a cold sweat, the kind you thought you could avoid after departing from your physical body. but still, even in front of his warm hearth, you can’t rid yourself of the cold that soaks you through. those nights are the ones where you forget how to breathe for a moment, the ones where he started with holding your hand to calm you, the ones where, now, he’ll pull you right into his arms and tell you that it’s alright. that it’s over.

other times, feeling isn’t too bad at all. nice, even. because he’s learned how to make you smile, with a joke or a clumsy mistake you didn’t know a god could make. he gives you books and flowers for your room. his dog, basillea will curl up next to you by the fire and fall asleep with her head in your lap. he shyly taught you an oddly comforting lullaby called song for the dead, and he’ll press a kiss to your forehead and hum it when he thinks that you’ve finally fallen back asleep after your nightmare. you’re glad that you can feel all that too.

but every time, you reject his suggestions to find out how it happened. how you died. he thinks it will help you move on. you think you’d rather not know.

you haven’t told him that you remember some of it; you know why you feel soaked in coldness, why you can’t breathe when you wake up. but you don’t want to know how it came to be, because it feels like there’s something horrible lurking in the deep end of your memory, waiting to be uncovered.

but you’re insistent on ignoring that. until it can no longer be ignored.

this time, there’s a scream, so raw and terrified that yeosang uses his magic to be by your side in an instant.

“what’s wrong?” he demands, convinced of an active threat. you’ve never woken from nightmares with a scream. but it takes him less than a moment to see that it’s just you, gasping and clawing at the blankets like you’re drowning in them. soft and careful, his voice calls your name and begins a mantra of “it’s alright” and “i’m right here.” when his hands meet your shoulders to pull you up and into his arms, you bolt upright with a start before melting into his embrace. your tears are already wetting his shirt and he feels his own eyes well up at the sight and sound of you so afraid.

“breathe,” he reminds you, hand rubbing up and down your back to mimic the rhythm of “in” and “out.” when you can finally breathe properly, you’re still crying, clinging to him like he’s your lifeline. in that moment, he is.

he doesn’t speak once you’re still in his arms, save for the rise and fall of your chest. he just holds you close, for so long he thinks you’ve fallen back asleep without saying a word. and like he always does, he presses the gentlest of kisses to the crown of your head and whispers, “goodnight, my love.”

“don’t go,” you whisper back, before he can begin humming your song, voice pleading and broken. there’s a long moment of silence. “i- i drowned. in the lake.” he doesn’t say anything because he knows there’s more. you try to speak again, but the words get caught in your throat. “it…it wasn’t— yeosang, it wasn’t an accident.” your voice is so quiet that he can barely hear it. his heart drops. he feared it before, as the reason why you were trying so hard not to remember it. but he certainly didn’t want it to be true.

he wanted to protect you from the moment he saw you, out of duty and the natural role of protector he’s always been in. but it’s different now that he’s in love with you. it fuels a deep, deep despair and the kind of rage that he’s never been prone to have. for a moment, his heart seeks revenge, before it recenters itself to you.

for once in his immortal life, he’s a god at a loss for words. he’s seen murder and treachery far more brutal than yours, and yet nothing could have prepared him for this. he feels so humbled when he can only hope that his words will be enough.

“you’re safe now. i’m sorry, my love. i am so, so sorry. you did not deserve a death like this, or death at all—” he means it, even though it means you would not be his had you been given a fraction of what you did deserve, “—but i promise, no one will ever hurt you again.”

you nod and bask in his words. while you don’t think you can even begin to process your death all over again with this gruesome detail added, you find comfort that it will be with him by your side.

and with your throat ragged from crying, you begin to sing, still curled up in his arms. he joins you on the second line. and you sing until your voice gives out, and he sings until long after you’ve fallen asleep, the song for the dead.

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best-childhood-book · 1 year

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Welcome to the Bracket of Childhood Books!

Hello! Welcome to the Best Childhood Book bracket, reminiscent of many going around on Tumblr right now, that will decide what this userbase thinks is the best childhood book.

Since we need some clarification, the definition of childhood book in this competition is as follows: a book people read in childhood that must be for a YA age group or younger and has chapters. I developed this definition to keep it as open as possible while making sure picture and adult books were excluded. There are a lot of books that skirt the line between middle grade and young adult, so I figured it best to play it safe and include all YA books, especially for those of us who read at a much higher level. There is a difference between “children’s” book and “childhood” book. ANY book that met those requirements could be submitted, as I am striving to keep my personal opinion out of this competition for the most part. This definition will not change for the foreseeable future.

This masterpost will be updated with links to all the polls regularly, and each poll will last 7 days. If you vote, reblog if you can so more people can vote, and feel free to campaign for your personal favorite if you want!

SUBMISSIONS ARE CLOSED FOR CHILDHOOD BOOKS (320/320)

SUBMISSIONS ARE CLOSED FOR CHILDHOOD WORLDS (192/192)

SUBMISSIONS ARE CLOSED FOR FANTASY BOOKS (320/320)

Please submit with the name of the book and the author. Check the lists to see if anything has been submitted before trying yourself. If a book is part of a series, it will be listed under the series name (i.e. The Lightning Thief > Percy Jackson and the Olympians or The Golden Compass > His Dark Materials). You can find the current list of childhood books here. A world will be listed with its series, and you can find the current list of worlds here. You can find the current list of fantasy books here.

Poll links and rules under the cut

Help decide parameters for submissions with some fringe cases: recently published YA, adult books lots of children/teens read, retelling worlds

First Competition (here)

Second Competition (here)

Third Competition (here)

Fourth Competition (here)

BCW First Competition (here)

Rules/Guidelines

Submissions for Childhood Books

Must be a middle grade or young adult book

Must have chapters

Must be able to be found on Goodreads

Submissions for Childhood Worlds

Must be the setting of a middle grade or young adult book.

Must be either a whole other world (i.e. Narnia, Panem), a setting largely separate from our own world (i.e. Hogwarts, Camp Half-Blood), or a specific setting within our own world that is invented for the purpose of that book (i.e. 221B Baker Street, Ferryport Landing)

Main characters have to have visited this place

Cannot be somewhere that already exists in our world outside that book

Submissions for Fantasy Books

Must be listed as 'fantasy' or some fantasy subgenre within the first three genres on Goodreads or Storygraph

Must be able to be found on Goodreads

Must have chapters but can otherwise be for any age range

Polls

Be respectful (no hate, no harassment, I will block you)

I'm totally okay with spam reblogs; if you want to subject your followers to seventeen copies of a poll, you do you

If you're trying to get my attention about something, @ me or submit an ask, there's no guarantee I'll see all the reblogs

Propaganda

Submit it to me as an ask; I won't be reblogging personal posts or reblogs of the polls

Promote the book you're supporting; it's okay to poke fun at the other books, but please don't attack them or the authors

Only ONE (1) propaganda post per user per book. I really don't want to clog people's dashes with sixty posts about voting for a single book

Asks

Be respectful, not just to me but to all the people who will end up seeing that ask when I post it

If you're asking about a poll or a rule or anything else, please check and see if it's in this post or elsewhere

Try to keep things focused on the competition/books

Competition Hall of Fame

First Competition: Percy Jackson and the Olympians by Rick Riordan

Second Competition: Animorphs by K. A. Applegate

Third Competition: Lockwood & Co. by Jonathan Stroud

Fourth Competition: The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien

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olderthannetfic · 10 months

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Anon from 722398181104795649 again about YA as a G-D and it's failure(s). Your response is really interesting because it definitely aligns with the market research I've had to do over the last 3-ish months for work. Adult YA readers want YA to skew older superficially as escapism from the woes of adulthood (It's like someone who orders a pasta with broccoli in it because they appreciate the flavor it brings, but they have no interest in actually eating their vegetables). Teenagers feel alienated by the G-D that is meant for them no longer allows them to confront said woes with honesty or maturity for their age to prepare them for adulthood or discussing broader ideas. More teenagers skip over YA altogether or just reader adult genre fiction with some Middle Grade fiction mixed in because the teenagers feel in MG, there's still an honesty to the stories that they can understand, having once been young children. In short: teenagers think YA books are talking down to or patronizing them.

The result is YA authors pushing for NA, New Adult, as a G-D, which hasn't taken off within tradpub outside of romance circles. Mostly, because what they're pushing for is already an established genre for around a century: campus novels--books about characters 18+ who are entering college, establishing independence, beginning to explore sexuality and enter the workforce, etc. But, again, YA adult readers refuse to engage with adult genre fiction because there isn't the facade of protection from adult themes or topics, and there's an aggressive refusal among many agents in literary fiction (and some adult genre fiction) to encourage authors to sanitize their stories. YA authors began attempting to cross over into adult genre fiction with mixed, but overwhelmingly negative, results, as they cannot shake the stigma of writing YA. And the genre fiction crowds they want to appeal to have higher standards, typically, than the average YA writer is able to meet. YA authors then complain about the differences in publishing YA and genre adult fiction. It's like when MCU actors and directors get upset when prestige film directors don't consider MCU movies to be "cinema."

This is fascinating.

I pretty much missed the YA boom (slightly too old, not paying attention, etc.), so I've mostly encountered YA through its worst evangelists of the Hunger Games knockoff era, and often a good bit after their favorite books were at their height.

As I've said before, this really strikes me as that pattern where something is big when you're at a formative age, and it becomes the Normal Default to you.

I'm sure some of it is refusal to engage with adult nuance, but I'll bet a lot of it is resistance to leaving the name of YA behind. People spent so much time defending this niche that they started believing their own rhetoric about it being the only place the good queer stuff was or the feminist stuff was or whatever. They identified really strongly as A YA Fan. It's hard to let that go.

And if you don't remember much about pre-YA boom publishing, the fact that all that YA-tastic Mercedes Lackey stuff was filed under fantasy, not YA is completely obscure. The places you find stuff you'd like that aren't called "YA" are not obvious. The fact that YA in its boom era form isn't universal and eternal is not obvious.

I think people are waiting for their Cool Era of their early 20s to return and for the things they think should always be in fashion to come back... Like everyone else aging ungracefully, they may be waiting a while.

Gotta say, every New Adult book I've been shown sounds like a hideously boring contemporary romance that would probably make a good coffee shop AU against a backdrop of a canon that's dark or magical but that isn't really pulling its weight even if you like contemporaries.

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nellasbookplanet · 9 months

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Book recs: many worlds, portal fantasy edition

A typical portal fantasy follows a human from our world who steps through a portal into a magical land (think of narnia). But there are many fun variations of this trope! Sometimes it's the magical people who come to our world; sometimes we get to follow people who have returned from their adventures and are seeking for new meaning; sometimes our world isn't involved at all. As might be assumed, most portal fantasies are fantasy stories, but some lean more toward magical realism, others toward sci-fi. It's a fun spectrum!

I'm separating portal fantasies from alternate timelines/parallel worlds type stories (which will get their own rec post soon-ish). I also generally do not include stories where the character travels to fairyland/land of the dead/etc as those feel like a genre of their own to me, but the lines between them sometimes blur and this is, obviously, a subjective list.

(Titles marked with * are my personal favorites)

Other book rec posts:

Really cool fantasy worldbuilding, really cool sci-fi worldbuilding, dark sapphic romances, mermaid books, vampire books

For more detailed info on the books, continue under the cut.

The Magicians (Magicians trilogy) by Lev Grossman*

You may not have heard of this book, but you have probably heard of the scyfy series of the same name that crashed and burned a few years ago. This is the book it’s based on (pros: it doesn’t end in the same way; cons: it doesn’t feature the juggernaut ship of the show in any major way). For the uninitiated: features what is essentially a (secret) magic university for tormented geniuses. When he finds magic isn't enough to grant him happiness, main character Quentin goes digging into the truth surrounding his favorite childhood books searching for meaning, and finds out that the magical other world they describe might not be so fictional after all.

Stray (Touchstone trilogy) by Andrea K. Höst*

Young adult told through diary entries. Including this as a portal fantasy is a bit of a stretch, but essentially: Cassandra unkowingly walks through a wormhole and lands herself on another planet, where she has to survive on her own until she is rescued. Soon she finds herself embroiled in a war between creatures from dreamlike other dimensions and the people who saved her. Skirts the line between scifi and fantasy (it has psychic space ninjas!), but generally feels mostly like sci-fi. Absolutely fantastic worldbuilding.

In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan*

Young adult. Kids who can walk between our world and a magical one get recruited into a magical school that trains them either to be fighters or sort-of diplomats. Our lead decides that fighting is stupid and that he’s going to peacefully solve every conflict ever, all while being the most delightfully obnoxious little brat possible and getting incolved in the most bisexual love triangle imaginable. Very good, funny, and heart-felt coming of age story.

NPCs (Spells, Swords, & Stealth series) by Drew Hayes*

This one only counts as a portal fantasy on a technicality and on the fact that I love it and this is my list. Follows a group of DnD players whose characters immediately die, forcing them to make new characters, and, parallel to their adventures, a group of NPCs from the fantasy world who find themselves forced to take the place of a party of recently deceased adventurers. The two parties do cross path on occasion, but there aren't actually any portals involved as all characters (mostly) stay in their respective world. A fun and light-hearted adventure that turns a lot of the expected tropes of the genre and of character archetypes on their heads.

The Time of the Dark (The Darwath series) by Barbara Hambly

1982 classic. Medieval history student Gil and biker Rudy are complete strangers, but when they get mixed up with a wizard from another world the two must work together to survive and get back home. Fairly traditional fantasy with its fair share of issues, but! It has cool swordswomen, creepy lovecraftian monsters and also mammoths!

The Twelve Kingdoms by Fuyumi Ono*

Young adult, light novel. Yoko Nakajima is a regular high school student, or at least she was one until a strange man showed up in her school, swore allegiance to her and whisked her away to another world. As the two get separated, Yoko is stuck on her own in a strange world, hunted by humans and demons alike as she travels in search of a way home. Absolute high point of isekai literature, with an incredible main character and really cool and unique worldbuilding (also available as an anime, however I have yet to watch it and can't speak to its quality just yet).

Peter Darling by Austin Chant*

Novella. An older Peter Pan returns to Neverland after years spent in our world, only to find that everything is different. Before he knows it, he finds himself working with his lifelong enemy, Captain Hook. Very gay and very trans, with interesting takes on toxic masculinity. Made my heart ache in the best of ways.

A Curse so Dark and Lonely by Brigid Kemmerer

Young adult. A retelling of beauty and the beast, where 'beauty' is a girl brought in from our world to a fantastical one and the narrative focuses a lot on what actually happens to the kingdom when the royal family suddenly disappears, and whether it’s even possible to fall in love with someone you know is deliberately trying to seduce you to break a curse. This is part one of a trilogy, however I'm only really recommending the first book as the second did not work for me at all.

The Golden Compass (His Dark Materials trilogy) by Philip Pullman

Young adult/middle grade, fantasy but has a lot of sci-fi aspects as well. Already well-known and for good reason, the His Dark Materials trilogy starts as what seems a pretty typical fantasy with some cool unique aspects (everyone has a soul-bound animal only they can speak to as their best friend!), and soon veers into a truly one of a kind story. It has magical portals, it has strange worlds with equally strange inhuman creatures, it has physics, it has god murder, it has gay angels, it has tragedy, and it’s very much worth your time.

Every Heart a Doorway (Wayward Children series) by Seanan McGuire*

A tumblr favorite, the Wayward Children novellas feature a school open to children who have returned from adventures in other realms and now have trouble adapting back to regular life. Some installments are set in our world, others follow children as they have their otherworldly adventures. The main characters vary between books, but are generally pretty diverse with among others asexual, trans, intersexual and sapphic leads. Both funny and dark, it takes a closer look at the trauma many endure growing up different.

Otherside Picnic (Otherside Picnic series) by Iori Miyazawa

Sapphic light novel with a surreal and episodic horror vibe. Following the directions of an urban legend, university student Sorawo finds her way to a reality populated by horrifying creatures from ghost stories and modern urban legends (of which I'm sure you'll recognize many). Here she teams up with fellow explorer Toriko, both to both find out more about this strange world and to help Toriko find a missing loved one. Also available as a manga and (one season of) an anime.

Last Bus to Everland by Sophie Cameron

Young adult. Brody is dealing with a lot, but it all gets a little easier when he meets Nico, who shows him how to access Everland, a magical land where he feels less out of place. But when the doors to Everland start disappearing, Brody must choose which world is really home. I'd categorize this less as fantasy and more as coming of age with a fantasy slant. It's also very gay.

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern

Surreal and fairy tale-esque, The Starless Sea is stories within a story, following graduate student Zachary as he finds a strange book which, in-between other tales, tells a story from his own childhood. Trying to find out how this came to be, Zachary gets involved with a pink-haired woman and a handsome man who are doing their utmost to protect a strange, otherworldly library available only through magical doors. It's a book hard to put in words, but which I once described as "romantic without being a romance while stile having a love story at it's core", and which can be summed up only as "an Experience". It's also quite gay!

The Memory Theater by Karin Tidbeck

Listen, there’s a whole bunch of Swedish portal fantasies I read growing up that I'm dying to include here, but I'm not because they’re not available in English. The Memory Theater however is available, and is very good. Two children who were stolen into an otherworldly realm that wants them dead fight return to earth, and are followed by one of their captors across universes. The story has the feel of a dark fairy tale, and their captors, while not fey, are very reminiscent of them.

The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow*

Historical young adult, more magical realism than fantasy. In the early 20th century, January is living under the care of her father's employer while he travels the world searching for valuables and secrets. But both her father and her caretaker are keeping something from her, something about her own family's history. When she one day stumbles upon a strange book, one that speaks of other worlds, she finally sets out to find the truth. However, there are those seeking to stop her and destroy the doors between worlds, no matter what.

The Hollow Places by T. Kingfisher*

Horror rather than fantasy. After having divorced, Kara moves to stay with her uncle and help him run his museum of curiosities, until one day she discovers a hole in the wall of his house. The hole leads to a strange bunker, and beyond that, a dark and dangerous world beyond her understanding. In the company of a friend, she goes to explore this world, but quickly comes to regret her decision to do so.

The Unspoken Name by A.K. Larkwood*

The sort of portal fantasy you get when all the worlds connected by portals are fantasy worlds, and none of them are ours. The portals themselves become simply a part of the worldbuilding that the characters use to travel between fascinating places, and it's all really cool. It follows Csorwe (lesbian orc assassin whom I love), who grew up in a cult, indoctrinated as a child sacrifice to a god. But on the day she was meant to die, she instead chose to follow a powerful wizard and train to become his loyal servant and sword. Aside from being an excellent fantasy, it's also a close look at the hard path of unlearning indoctrination and the search for love and validation where you'll never find it, and learning to live for yourself.

Odin's Child (the Raven Rings trilogy) by Siri Pettersen

Norwegian (vaguely Norse mythology inspired) young adult. Fifteen-year-old Hirka grew up thinking she simply lost her tail to a wolf attack, but one day she finds out she never had one: she's an Odin's child, a human, sent from another world and rumored to spread rot and ruin wherever she goes. To keep her secret safe, she goes on the run, but there are forces hunting for her, wanting to use her in their war. This reads mostly as a fairly typical epic fantasy, with the portal aspect not playing a major role until the second book.

The Barbed Coil by J.V. Jones

1997 classic. Tessa is a young woman with little going for her, until she stumbles upon a strange ring that transports her to a magical and dangerous other land. Here she meets Ravis, a mercenary who takes it upon himself to protect her, and discover her own special abilities, which she must use against an evil king whose mind has been corrupted and taken over by his crown, the Barbed Coil.

Skeen's Leap (Skeen trilogy) by Jo Clayton

1986 classic. While most portal stories are fantasy, this one has a distinct sci-fi flavour. Skeen is master thief wanted in a myriad solar systems, until her spaceship gets stolen and she's stranded on a backwater planet. Here she hears rumors of ruins leading to a strange other land. Hoping for treasure enough to get her off-planet, Skeen goes in search of this place, but finds herself stuck and unable to get back. This one has a unique, almost stream of consciousness prose that takes a while getting used to, but rewards you with a one of a kind experience.

Inkheart (Inkworld trilogy) by Cornelia Funke

German middle grade/young adult, in which the fantastical other worlds are those told of in books. Young Meggie's father has the ability to, when he reads, bring things and people out of the books, or put other people into said books. However, once having done so, he knows of no way to put anyone back where they belong. Now, years after he accidentally brought the terrible villain Capricorn and his henchmen out of their book, he and his daughter must evade them at all costs or be forced to bring further horrors out of the page and into the world.

Bonus AKA I haven't read these yet but they seem really cool

An Accident of Stars by Foz Meadows

A teenage girl accidentally follows a worldwalker from her world to a magical realm on the brink of civil war. I believe this on has both a major polyamorous relationship and ace/aro characters?

The Sleeping Dragon (Guardians of the Flame series) by Joel Rosenberg

1983 classic. A group of college dnd players find themselves transported to the magical realm they previously thought just a game.

The Wandering Inn by Pirateaba

Webnovel. After having been transported to a magical world, Erin decides to, rather than become a warrior or a mage, start running an inn.

Honorary mentions AKA these didn't really work for me but maybe you guys will like them: The Marked Girl by Lindsey Klingele, The Summer Tree by Guy Gavriel Kay, Child of a Hidden Sea by A.M. Dellamonica, Spellsinger by Alan Dean Foster, The Shattered Gates by Ginn Hale, The Awakening by Nora Roberts, Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor.

#extra bonus rec if you like critical role:#go read Things That Gods Despise by dawl_and_dapple #(and also maybe my fic The World's Between us)#i didnt includ neil gaimans coraline her bc i assumed most people know if it already #(and also i ran out of space)#but if you haven't heard of it consider this another rec lmao #anyway. i may be slightly obsessed with this genre #please recommend me more books (or fics!) if you know of any!!#nella talks books #book recs

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currantlee · 10 months

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Ganondorf in German Tilo Schmitz Appreciation Post

The first cutscene of TotK is defining for Ganondorf as a character. I played the German version of the game, and the dub does a stellar job with this scene! It is very memorable IMO, and it instantly sets Ganondorf up as a somewhat stereotypical antagonist, but a serious threat nonetheless. It's one of my favorite scenes in the game, and that is also because Ganondorf's German VA, Tilo Schmitz, does an absolutely stellar job! It's great that he's getting the recognition he deserves for this performance!

Each line of Ganondorf's monologue in this scene is packed with (character) exposition, both textwise and deliverywise, but you don't even notice because you're in too much awe - at least that's my experience with the scene (in German).

Sooo... I wanted to take a closer look at how exactly both the scene and the voiceacting accomplish this.

Translation: That is supposed to be the sacred banishing sword? And my miasma shatters it just like that... A useless blade. English Localization: Was that the sword that seals the darkness? A blade that shatters so easily against my power cannot save you from me.

A few things about this line (and the rest of the scene) under the cut, because I'm gushing. A LOT.

The Master Sword is rarely called Masterschwert (its name in German) in spoken dialogue. I think over the course of the entire game, the Great Deku Tree is the only character to do so, and in Breath of the Wild, only Zelda calls it Masterschwert once. It is, however, called Masterschwert in the inventory, as well as several text-only dialogues. My hypothesis as to why they did that is that Masterschwert, when spoken out loud, sounds involuntarily comical in German since it comes off as way over-the-top, and can thus destroy an entire, serious scene. Personally, I think heiliges Bannschwert (which I would personally translate as Sacred Blade which Banishes Evil if I were to do a less literal translation, like I did above, into English) is a very fitting title, even though it doesn't sound quite as awe-inspiring if translated into English literally.

Secondly, the gloom is called Miasma in German, which is a historic name for mysterious sicknesses. While not common in contemporary German anymore, you can actually find it in the fantasy genre here and there, including in videogames. German localizers REALLY love to use this term. In comtemporary German, it would be übler Dunst (bad / ill haze), Verunreinigung (pollution / contamination), Befleckung (impurity) or Ansteckung (infection), all of which combined I find to be a really great description of what the gloom is and what it does! Especially considering that the entire reason Link and Zelda decided to investigate it in the first place was because the gloom was making the people of Hyrule sick.

I personally like this line much more than the English one, simply because to me, the English line screams "exposition!!". The German line is also exposition of course, but it does it in a much less subtle way.

Last but not least - let's appreciate Tilo Schmitz, Ganondorf's German VA. The way he delivers this line is spectacular! He makes it sound like Ganondorf is almost a little upset that the Master Sword shattered so easily, while sounding both dark and ancient at the same time. Honestly, I could not imagine a better delivery!

Translation: Zelda... And you, wielder of the banishing sword... Link. English Localization: Zelda... You who carries the fragile sword... Are Link.

Ganondorf explicitly draws a connection between Zelda and Link in German (not in the romantical sense), which feels much more natural than this kind of jump he does in English.

On a somewhat unrelated sidenote, I like that the camera shows both Zelda's and Link's reactions to Ganondorf knowing their names (unfortunately, I couldn't capture Link's because the subtitle vanishes just before he reacts, and I don't want to overload this post with pics, so... Go watch the scene again 😆). Love that Link has a very obvious reaction too, I feel like he is generally pretty expressive in TotK, which I very much enjoyed!

Translation: Rauru's grand prophecy... English Localization: Rauru placed his faith in you...

This is an interesting difference to me, because while both lines pretty much mean the same, the connotation (implied meaning) and tone are completely different.

In English, Ganondorf sounds like he is almost blaming Link and Zelda for not fulfilling Rauru's expectations, especially when combined with the next line.

In German meanwhile, this is more of a sarcastic comment, that expresses Ganondorf's disdain of Rauru more than anything else. Tilo Schmitz delivers this line with a very sarcastic undertone as well, making it clear that Ganondorf is, much like in the previous lines, mocking both Link and Zelda, as well as Rauru.

Translation: Two pathetic worms. English Localization: And that was all that you could do?

Now, there is a big difference! Whereas Ganondorf's line sounds almost like a challenge in English, in German, he is ourtight insulting Link and Zelda.

Also, Tilo Schmitz is amazing as Ganondorf in general, but this is probably my favorite line in the entire game from him. It sounds impactful, it sounds arrogant and despising, it has everything this line should have and more. Most of all, it sounds like he actually means this, and he means it as the character Ganondorf, not just as someone playing Ganondorf (from a meta perspective) or just anyone who can't stand Link and Zelda. It is a perfect line in my opinion, both scriptwise and delivery-wise.

Aaaaand that's pretty much it for this scene! Like in the English localisation, Zelda asks how Ganondorf knows their names (and Julia Casper makes her sound more timid than confused, which I also like very much!).

Anyway, thank you so much for reading 😊 Honestly, I was pretty overwhelmed by the response to my first posting about the German localization of TotK, so I wanted to wait a bit for things to calm down a bit 😅 In the 10+ years I've been on the internet, nothing I've made before has gotten this level of attention. It makes me very happy you guys seemed to enjoy it so much though, and I hope you enjoyed this one as well.

Have a great day, night, whatever time it is when you're reading this, and enjoy the game!

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sailoryooons · 9 months

Note

Happy August Agust! For the fic request, how about some Yoongi fluff - Fae warrior Yoongi, while out on patrol, finds a human baby alone in the woods

❀ Pairing: Fae!Yoongi (ft. other members)

❀ Summary: Yoongi finds a human child in the most unlikely of places and discovers that perhaps he isn’t the most terrible father figure afterall.

❀ Word Count: 1,754

❀ Genre: Fantasy, found family, fluff

❀ Rating: SFW

❀ Warnings: Abandoned child in the woods, a little bit of tough love, Dad Yoongi who is like I’m Not Dad, vague world building, Yoongi teasing his kiddo, unedited!!!!

❀ Published: August 4, 2023

❀ A/N: Okay this is my first attempt at kid fic and I tried to keep it short and sweet. I really wanted to add the members in like one giant family and like all these uncle vibes and influences and GOSH I think this turned out very cute! Thank you SO much for requesting, I adore you and you always brighten my day with your thoughts and comments!! This is unedited!

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask |Hali��s Happy Agust |

Crickets sing their nighttime hymn as Yoongi rides along the road. The moon is a full, silver coin in the sky, painting the world in pale gray light. The evergreens on either side of the road glow blue in the light, their shadows long and stretching in haunting shapes.

Yoongi does not fear the woods, no matter how dark the spaces between the boughs. He’s patrolled this route hundreds of times and he’ll do it a hundred more. Each night, he rides along the southern border, keeping close to the tree line that separates the fae and human territories.

For the most part, Yoongi’s nights are boring. He watches packs of direwolves move through the trees and goblins chitter as they run through the bushes. Sometimes, he spots a redcap heading toward the human territory before seeing him and fleeing back into the fae country.

Rare are the times he sees humans. The humans don’t dare to cross the southern forest that splits the continent in half. Though some villages and cities deep in the human lands no longer believe in the fae, the northerners near the border know that the fae are real and just beyond the trees.

The time of war against the humans has long passed, but the memory of the fae is enough to haunt human tales and superstition over campfire.

A soft cry catches Yoongi’s attention. He sits a little straighter in his saddle, tilting his head toward the forest that stretches between the two countries. The back of his neck tingles and just when he thinks it’s nothing more than a distant echo on the when, he hears the distinct sound of crying.

Spurring his horse into a fast-walk, he heads into the tree, following the sound. It sounds distinctly like the cries of a child, worry forming like a pit in the bottom of his stomach.

It only takes a moment to find a bundle of blankets at the foot of a tree. Sliding from his horse, Yoongi feels his heart thundering in his chest, anxiety setting in as he slowly approaches the bundle. Instinct tells him he’s going to find exactly what he expects. Dread sets in when he looms over the bundle and peers down at the round, tiny face of a crying baby.

A mess of dark hair sits atop the child's head. It’s swaddled tightly in wool blankets, but the bundle rocks as the baby has a fit. Yoongi crouches down slowly and reaches out gently, swiping the silk-soft hair from the side of the baby’s head. He swears under his breath when he sees small, rounded ears. It is the tiniest of babes, the runt of the litter.

Minutes pass. Yoongi stares down at the child that now cries in earnest, its wails sharp and punctuated with gasps from its mighty little lungs. Looking around, he sees no sign of parents. No footsteps, no horse tracks, nothing.

A few yards away, Yoongi spots a circular ring of mushrooms and he tightens his fists. He could have spotted the faerie ring right away, but the babe was set down away from it, out of sight. Yoongi knows he’ll have to alert Namjoon immediately that someone has swapped a child with a changeling.

With a heavy heart, Yoongi reaches out and plucks the child from the ground. He bends down slightly and inhales, smelling lilac and milk. He realizes that the baby is a little girl, with plump cheeks. She opens her eyes and looks at him, their dark depths shining with the reflection of the moon.

Yoongi has no idea what to do with the child. But knowing he can’t leave her on the ground to die, he sighs and cradles her to his chest. Immediately, her cries stop. Her heartbeat thrums against his chest as he turns to his horse, careful as he mounts with the child in his arms.

“You’re only staying with me for a night,” he mutters at the babe, who has yet to take her round eyes off him. “You’re going straight to Jin in the morning.”

“Nari,” Yoongi sighs heavily, putting his head in his palm. “You have to eat your vegetables. I don’t care if you don’t like them. You can’t be a little runt forever, you have to grow strong.”

“They smell weird,” she complains, shoving around the greens on her plate. Her wild, black hair is plaited down her back thanks to Jimin’s nimble fingers, and she smells like the lavender and oatmeal soap that Taehyung gifted her. “I don’t want to.”

This is one of the hardest parts of life with Nari, Yoongi things. What turned into housing a babe for a single night transformed into a life that Yoongi doesn’t yet know how to define.

He remembers that first night. It was awful. The baby had cried all night, screaming with a rage that Yoongi did not know that human children possessed. He’d half-convinced himself by morning that the baby was actually a demon disguised as a human and had every intention of telling Seokjin to take her to a monastery in the human lands.

But then the sun had risen and Yoongi was reminded of a song about the dragonflies and lilies that his father used to sing to him. As the words came back to him, he found himself singing them quietly under his breath and for the first time that night, the baby was silent. Watching him. Curious.

When Seokjin had finally arrived at the house, Yoongi found himself too enamored by the dark eyes and the blinding smile when he’d sing the baby and bounce, finally unlocking the secret to her silence and joy.

Now, he doesn’t know how to get her to do anything. Nari is as stubborn as she was when he found her, and now that the five year old has a voice, she can talk back to him.

“Let’s make a deal,” Yoongi sighs. He doesn’t know where a human picked up such a fae habit, but Nari perks up at the sound of a deal. She does nothing without compromise and is always looking to needle him into a bargain. She’d be a very good trickster, he thinks. “You eat your vegetables every night, and I will let you start training with Jungkook and I in the mornings.”

She narrows her eyes. “And with Uncle Hoseok in archery.”

He rolls his eyes. “And in archery.”

Nari extends her tiny hand over to him. “I, Nari of the Min Household, swear to hold up my end of the bargain by blood and bone.”

“I, Yoongi of the Min household, Sentry of Hala and Shadow of the King, swear to hold up my end of the bargain by blood and bone.”

Leaning over the table, Yoongi shakes her hand. It feels so small and fragile in his, but she grips him tight, squeezing her little fingers as much as she can. When she lets go, she gives a self-satisfied smirk and stabs a piece of broccoli and pops it into her mouth.

“I actually like when you use more salt,” she says around a mouthful. “These are fine, though.”

Only until her happy humming as she eats does Yoongi realize he’s been played.”

“Stop crossing your feet,” Yoongi calls, crossing his arms over his chest. He watches you with laser-like focus, tracking your movements as your right foot circles behind your left. “You’ll get knocked on your ass if you keep doing that. Side-step, but keep your center of gravity wide, Nari.”

“I’ll knock you on your ass,” she mutters, correctly her foot work before bending at the knee and taking her stance again. Jungkook is across from her, wooden sword held up, grin on his face. “Jimin crosses his feet.”

“Jimin is the best swordsman in the kingdom. You are a little runt who can’t disarm Jungkook.”

To anyone else, it might seem mean. Perhaps it is. Yoongi doesn’t know how else to motivate her. Like Jungkook, Nari is a perfectionist with a vicious pride, driven by the need to do everything with the perfect execution. Like Taehyung, though, she is stubborn and hot headed.

Jungkook leaps forward and the connecting thwack of wood against wood rings out again. The two of them fill the small clearing behind Yoongi’s cottage with clacking. Yoongi keeps his eyes trained on them, ignoring Namjoon and Seokjin who come piling out the house with Hoseok and Jimin behind them.

Nari doesn’t break her concentration despite her audience. If anything, being under the full weight of her little family makes her swing at Jungkook harder. Yoongi sees the way her movements blend together, keeping a rhythm and flow of motion but no discernable pattern.

When Nari spins under Jungkook’s wooden blade and uses her small size to her advantage to keep spinning and get to the side of him, bringing her wooden weapon down on his wrist and making him yelp and drop his sword, Yoongi straightens.

While Jungkook yells about his injured wrist, Nari grins and looks over at the group of men gathered on the steps. Yoongi ignores them all as they cheer, shooting compliments at the beaming child and applauding her for disarming Jungkook.

Taehyung comes in through the gate, brows raised. “What are we cheering for?”

“I disarmed Uncle Jungkook!”

“Did you? Do it again, I want to see!”

“No way,” Jungkook cries out. “She’s got a demon swing for a twelve year old. That shit hurts!”

“Jungkook,” Yoongi warns, making the younger blush and bow his head. “Language, please.”

“Yeah,” Nari teases as she picks up his dropped weapon and hands it to him. “Language.”

Jungkook takes the weapon back from her with a scowl and she beams, flashing him perfect rows of teeth as she bows. Yoongi chuckles as Jungkook mutters under his breath, bowing in return before Nari turns and scampers over to Yoongi, her face red with effort and brow sweaty.

“Did you see that, dad?” she gushes. “I disarmed Jungkook!”

Yoongi’s heart seizes at the word. It’s used so rarely between them. Something unavoidable, perhaps. For so long he had her call him Yoongi until she was finally corrupted by Namjoon and Seokjin to call them by family names. Dad. Uncle. Her family.

“Yeah,” Yoongi hums, opening his arm up as she plops down on his knee, tired. “It was very impressive. He deserved the smack on the wrist, well done.”

“Aren’t you proud?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi smiles. “I am, Runt.”

#yoongi fluff #dad yoongi #suga fluff #dad suga #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts fluff #found family #halis happy agust

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shattered-elysium · 2 years

Text

Shattered Elysium is a 18+ Rated IF— coded within CScript— that combines fantasy elements within the modern world. Your new journey awaits you, Harbinger.

Setting(s): Proelium (Immortal Realm) || Briar Glen, Washington || Seattle, Washington.

Genre(s): High Fantasy, Romance, Thriller, Action, Drama, and Dark Themes.

Warning(s): This story is rated 18+ for depictions of death, violence, blood, gore, profanity, sexual themes, dark themes, and mentions of torture.

DEMO (TBA)

Harbinger…

It was a word, a darkly whispered title, that haunted your dreams at night. Images— that seemed almost tangible enough to be called memories— filling your mind, but it only ever caused more confusion once you awoke.

After all there was no way in hell you were the Right Hand to an ethereal being that was older than you could ever imagine.

You weren’t ever anyone of note— even being a Detective in the Briar Glen Police Department— always passing through life on the aftershocks of those around you. You couldn’t imagine, least of all see yourself being, someone of such importance.

Dreams of sweet smelling meadows, bell-like laughter, and the overwhelming feeling of safety quickly turn to nightmares of snarling beasts; whose burning red eyes promise nothing but death. The change, while horrifying in its intensity, was chalked up to nothing but your brain ruining a good thing— as it usually did.

That is until bodies start piling up within Briar Glen— bodies that have been torn to shreds by an animal that could never be from the forests surrounding your sleepy town.

It was only when you saw the symbol— carved into the hand of the latest victim— that you truly realize that your dreams, your nightmares, weren’t what they originally appeared to be.

They were warnings of what is to come.

Play as an MC that has no idea about the life they used to have. Will you be able to become the Harbinger once more? Or will your new form hinder who you’ve always been?

Customizable MC: name, gender, sexuality, appearance, hobbies (some), and skills.

Fight the incoming darkness that not only threatens the people of Briar Glen but the world as you know it.

Reincarnation is a fickle thing— will you be able to manage the intricacies of it?

Romance 1 of 6 ROs! (Some of which will be marked with a red flag symbol as a forewarning to you all.)

Will you be able to put together the pieces of your past life? What happened to you? Or will everything shatter before you’re ever able to grasp the pieces of those memories?

Be ready, Harbinger. You’ll need every weapon in your arsenal if you wish to survive.

Aelius [M] - The Lord 🚩

1000+ [6’6” | Slate Gray Eyes | Onyx Black Hair]

The God of the Sun— and all that falls under such a domain— and one of your old Commanders. While he’s much softer than his sister— there’s still a dangerous aura lurking just beneath his sparkling smile. Every time you grow near you’re reminded of Icarus and how he, much like you, flew way too close to the sun.

“I’ve missed you, my dear Harbinger. I don’t think I’ll be able to let you slip through my fingers again.”

Céline [F] - The Lady 🚩

1000+ [6’4” | Crystalline Blue-Green Eyes | Golden White Hair]

The Goddess of the Moon— and all that falls under such a domain— and one of your old Commanders. With a cold air, stoic persona, and unwavering confidence, the Goddess isn’t someone that’s easy to get close to. You, however, always caused a soft spot to form in the wall of ice that surrounds her heart.

“Dearest Harbinger… did you really think that Death would stop me from finding you again? I’d tear this world apart if it meant keeping you, surely you know that.”

Gabriel [M] - The Warrior

500+ [6’0” | Hazel Eyes | Light Brown Hair]

A man that’s forever stood in the background of Céline. Forever at her side, doing whatever she commanded, without wavering. Silence is the solitude that he knows and understands. Will you ever be able to get him to break it? Will you find the man that’s hidden behind years of duty? Find a person behind the warrior?

“My life will always belong to Céline, Harbinger…. My heart, however? Will always belong to you if you’ll have it.”

Natasha [F] - The Guardian

500+ [5’4” | Forest Green Eyes | Golden Brown Hair]

Just as Gabriel was forever by Celine’s side, Natasha was rarely ever away from Aelius. With kind eyes, a gentle smile and demeanor, you’d never expect that she’d be considered one of the most dangerous amongst his army— following his orders with a ruthless precision. Will you help her find something worth living for besides her duty to Aelius?

“You’ve let me see many things clearly, Harbinger. For that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough. I hope my love, and my devotion, will be a good start.”

Gray/Grace [M/F] - The Partner

32 [5’8” | Light Brown Eyes | Dark Brown Hair]

The one person that seems like a calming anchor within the hellish whirlwind that has become your life. Your best friend, and the only person that’s ever truly believed in you, doesn’t truly understand what it is that you’re doing— or fighting against— but they’d never hesitate in backing you up. Will something more grow between you both because of it?

“Loving you… it just feels right. Like I finally know how to stand on solid ground again.”

Damien/Diana [M/F] - The Criminal 🚩

33 [5’11” | Sapphire Blue Eyes | Dark Auburn Hair]

Granted employing the help of an elusive criminal— although they’ve never actually been caught— isn’t your smartest idea, but when you need to get into the criminal underbelly of Briar Glen there’s no one better you can think of. With a flirtatious smile, cocky attitude, and penchant for violence, you’re certainly going to have your hands full with them. Will you end up getting something else from your time together too?

“At first I wasn’t sure you were worth my time. In fact I was close to killing you, but I’m glad that I didn’t. I quite like you, Detective. More than I have ever liked anyone. You should feel lucky.”

#shattered elysium #no demo #choice script #interactive novel #interactive fiction

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haezen · 1 year

Note

more slytherin sakusa kiyoomi please 🥹

hi anon! this one had been in the works for a while, but you inspired me to finish. thanks for sending in a request ily.

ATTENTION: read this part first because it will make more sense. but, if you read this part alone, i guess it will still work on its own.

pairing: slytherin!sakusa kiyoomi x reader genre: hurt/comfort, angst to fluff wordcount: 3.6k

happy reading <3

masterlist

You and your best friend, Hanamaki Takahiro, were currently standing together underneath the pavilion with the sole purpose of watching your mutual friends on the Slytherin team.

The players were waiting for the rainstorm to pass before resuming their practice: all huddled around in a circle with their hoods up. It was nearly impossible to see past the rain due to the force of the wind and rain whipping around the pavilion the two of you stood under.

Makki had suggested that the two of you go watch your friends practice this week because they had a big game coming up soon. You had nothing better to do and Oikawa had begged you to come watch him specifically as he claimed he needed your praise to calm his nerves. He made a scene of asking you, even going as far as bending down on one knee with a rose he had conjured up on the spot—his crazy, romantic gestures always made you laugh and you couldn’t help but accept knowing that he simply just wanted you to feel included in something he loved.

You squint your eyes with the intention of trying to tell the players apart, but with the intensity of the rainstorm, you found it difficult.

“Looking for someone in particular, aren’t you?” Hanamaki smirked knowingly, nudging your shoulder with enough force to make you lose your balance.

“I swear, one day I might just strangle you in your sleep. Then, you’ll really regret ever being mean to me.”

As you regained your balance from Makki’s shove, you huffed in frustration at how observant he could be.

“Oh, but I thought you could handle a little roughin’ up?” Makki sported a shit-eating grin with the quirk of his brow. “Can’t you, (Name)?”

He cackled as you reared your fist back to punch him in the chest. Although you made a show of winding your fist back to hit him, when your fist made contact, you put no real strength behind it. He cackles even louder when you pout and are unable to respond with a witty comment like you usually would. It’s like he’s proud of himself for bringing up your sworn-to-death secret; you can only side eye him from your peripheral, trying to move on from the topic at hand as soon as possible.

You fight off the urge to scrunch your nose up in shame as you recall the truth you confessed to your friends when playing Truth or Dare a couple months ago.

“What’s something you’ve never told anybody else?” Oikawa looks in your direction after he reads a ‘Truth’ question off a card.

You and your friends sat in a circle on the floor, surrounded by the darkness of the Slytherin commons; it was extremely late at night, but there was no stopping Makki and Mattsun once they set their minds on something. The only light in the room was the dim light from the logs that were burning in the fireplace. You sat across from Oikawa, staring blankly at the floor, desperately trying to think of something shallow to say in response.

“(Name), make it something juicy or else you’re wasting my and Mattsun’s precious time.” Makki, who was sitting on your left, leaned in close enough for his warm breath to fan your face and you covered it on instinct.

“Oh god…okay.”

You spread your fingers apart to peek at your friends who were anxiously waiting for your answer.

“I’ll spill. But only if you guys promise to never bring it up again.” You tore your hands from your face and wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to accept the ugly fact that you’re going to tell all of your closest friends one of your biggest fantasies.

Sugawara and Kuroo both nodded in your direction while Makki and Mattsun shared knowing looks; a look that meant they’d store this information in their memory forever. You groaned at the realization but carried on anyway.

“(Name)-chan, it stays between us. Promise.”Oikawa smiled and extended his pinky towards you. You returned the smile and graciously wrapped your own around his to seal the promise.

“Okay, so…”

“(NAME)!” Mattsun shouts when he realizes you’re trying to stall; he’s extremely impatient in every aspect of life, even when playing a simple game of Truth or Dare. He groans, stretches his legs out dramatically, and falls backwards to lay on his back. You seize the opportunity to playfully slap his stomach, which causes him to immediately roll over to avoid another.

“My truth is…that I secretly want someone to maybe…manhandle me?” You hesitated as you spoke each word, eyes flickering to each of your friends' faces to gauge their reactions. They all burst out in a laughter so contagious that you couldn’t help but join in with a laugh of your own.

Makki especially found this confession of yours the funniest, considering he was the only one who knew the person you secretly wished to ‘manhandle’ you.

“I told you to never bring that up again, you idiot!” You groan as you cover your red face, not wanting to see Makki’s teasing eyes and wide smile.

One of Makki’s most notable traits is his brilliant memory – he never fails to forget the things you thought you told him in confidence, bringing up something you forgot you told him in the first place.

Since he’s been your best friend for so long, you know he truly meant no harm in teasing you. When he remembers the shocked expression that crossed your face just a moment ago, he clutches his aching stomach and wipes the tears that threatened to fall from his fit of laughter.

“I really can’t stand you.”

“That was so good, really. The look on your face was priceless. I wish Suna was over here to capture it.”

You cross your arms over your chest and give him a glare.

“You remember that dare that you never did?”

“Yeah?” You ask hesitantly, afraid of what Makki might say next.

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his trousers while motioning his head towards the group of guys huddled around for cover near the field. You followed the direction he tilted his head towards, only for them to land on Sakusa Kiyoomi, your year-long crush. You met your best friend’s honeyed-colored eyes with a stony glare, watching as his smirk grew to the cheesiest grin you’d ever seen on his face.

“I think I got a perfect dare for you. I’m redeeming it now.”

“Now?!” You yell in disbelief.

The team turns around to find the source of the noise, and even over the sound of rain, your voice carries over. You can’t help but look for Sakusa amongst everyone, and surely enough, you catch his attention.

Makki stares at you once he realizes the two of you made eye contact with one another. He relishes the faraway look in your eyes as you watch Sakusa fend off a clingy Miya Atsumu. Your best friend watches the fleeting look of admiration that graces your face suddenly morph into one of annoyance as you turn to him again.

“Why now?” You whisper-yell, eyebrows furrowing.

He remains silent and you immediately read his mind. You feel like throwing up and you fidget with the (your house colors) tie that hangs loosely around your neck.

“I can’t, ‘Hiro!”

He shakes his head with a soft smile, reaching to adjust your tie for you once he remembers that you fidget when you’re nervous. A habit that you’ve never been able to break.

“You won’t know until you try.”

Your eyes land on Sakusa once more, mind racing as you thought of all the times you imagined confessing to the brooding Slytherin. Hanamaki pushes you forward, effectively tearing you out of your thoughts, and you stumble forwards.

“Don’t be such a pussy, (Name). It doesn’t suit you.”

Something about those teasing words inspires a spiteful courage inside of you. You whip around, “Y’know what, fine! Fine, ‘Hiro. I’ll do it. ”

“Finally!” He exclaims loudly as you pull up your hood and make your way to Sakusa.

Hanamaki holds his breath as he watches you run to the field and over to the cover where the players are all standing underneath.

You’re soaked and out of breath when you reach the canopy, partly because you’re out of shape and partly because you’re scared half to death to confess to Sakusa Kiyoomi out of all people. None of them notice your figure approaching until you beckon to Sakusa. He points to himself, silently asking for your confirmation that it’s him you want to talk to. You nod as you inhale deeply to compose your nerves; he steps forward out of the group of players that move over to accommodate his large frame, and gestures to move over to the side, behind the large stands – away from prying eyes and eavesdroppers – for a little privacy.

Some of the guys whistle but you ignore them all while standing in the face of Sakusa.

“Hey.” You say as you’re still trying to catch your breath.

“Hi.” He responds, uncomfortable and oddly enough, he might even feel curious as to why you had come over to talk to him.

His curly locks are damp from the rain and he runs a hand down his face because the raindrops trickle down his forehead. He’s stupidly attractive and you hate it. Damn you, Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Sakusa generally feels uncomfortable in the presence of women, but he feels even more so in your presence. He thought he had gotten off easy by establishing a friendly exchange with you, with bringing you tea every other day, he thought that he wouldn’t have to hold a true conversation with you. But you manage to surprise him yet again; he was shocked to see you approaching the team and even more shocked when his teammates nudged his side, trying to tell him that it was him you were asking for.

Over the time you’d spent admiring Sakusa from afar, you’ve gathered that he isn’t skilled in hiding his true thoughts; you often can decipher his mood by just watching his expression change with the tiniest movements.

He raises his eyebrows ever so slightly as he watches you catch your breath. You know that he’s thinking: ‘What is it?’

“I won’t take up too much of your time-”

“You’re not.” He assures you pointedly. “We’re waiting for the storm to pass anyway.”

You nod in appreciation, grateful that Sakusa (famously known for his cold demeanor) was reassuring you in this nerve-wracking moment. You inhale once more, letting the humid air fill up your lungs, and blow it out with your lips pursed. You’re incredibly nervous and it shows. The realization that you’re about to confess to one of the most coveted guys in Hogwarts is already nauseating, yet you’re more worried about the fact that Makki is knowingly waiting for you to return. You can already see his face: pink eyebrows wiggling and his lips curled up in a devilish grin. Your best friend makes you sick to your stomach and you think that he deserves a smack on the shoulder for putting you up to something so terrifyingly embarrassing as confessing to the Sakusa Kiyoomi.

“This might be ridiculous because–well, we don’t even really know each other.” You start, pulling your robe tighter against your body because you don’t know what to do with your hands. “I think that I might just be curious. Okay, that’s not the right word.”

Sakusa’s curiosity is growing by the second. At this point, he’s even overcoming his uneasiness talking to women solely because of how nervous you are — he might even pity you at this moment. Sakusa really wants to interrupt you and urge you to, ‘spit it out,’ but he has a soft spot for you; so, he stays silent and waits for you to finish.

“Ok.” You shake your head from side to side as you imagine you’re shaking the nerves away. It’s almost endearing. Almost.

“I just came over here to say that I like you, Sakusa Kiyoomi.” You watch as his eyes widen but you push through it. “And I really like the tea you make for me. You make really good tea. I don’t really expect anything, but I wanted to tell you that.”

He’s shocked. Sure, he’s received plenty of confessions from girls before, but he’s never received a confession from a person he’s actually been interested in. Predictably, Sakusa can’t help but let the shock wash over him. His eyes still wide as he takes in the information, and as it processes, he feels like his whole body is on fire. The heat that soon overtakes his body travels up the back of his neck and his cheeks; surely, he’ll accept your confession in a heartbeat. He’s even imagined it. Yet, he stands there in shock as you believe he’s trying to figure out how to let you down easy.

“I-I’m sorry.” You splutter out as the inevitable embarrassment of being rejected by your crush sets in. “Okay, well. Have a good practice or-” You look out to the field and realize that they might not even have practice. At this point, you’re tripping over your words and you just want to escape; you need to escape the shell-shocked expression on Sakusa’s face. “I’ll see you around, Sakusa.”

He says nothing as you hurriedly walk back to the pavilion where your best friend is waiting for you. He watches as you disappear from around the stands, and he continues to watch your figure get smaller as you walk away. You finally reach the pavilion and grab Makki’s arm to drag him away.

He feels dread fill his heart at the realization that he just blew his chance with you. Sakusa feels like a coward. How could he have messed this up so badly?

When you reached Makki, the grin on his face disappeared almost immediately when he saw the look on your face.

You’re trying your hardest to keep your cool and you’re trying even harder to push down the humiliating fact that you just got rejected like every other girl who has confessed to Sakusa. You’re accepting the fact — in real time — that you’re not any different from them.

“C’mon.” You grumble and that’s all you can manage to say because you don’t trust your voice. You grab the sleeve of Makki’s robe harshly and pull him along with you.

“What happened?”

“I’m a fool.” You mumble under your breath. “I’m so fucking stupid. Why did I ever think that a guy like him would like me back?”

As you drag Makki along, the two of you are speed-walking to reach the doors of the school. In the process, you get soaked even further than you already were. Meanwhile, Makki’s observant eyes are raking over your face for answers; he’s hoping that he can find some while just looking at your side profile.

The rain pours down on top of you and Makki and you finally reach the doors. You swing them open with such force that the back of the door hits the wall.

At this moment, Makki is too afraid to speak up. He feels guilty because it wasn’t for him urging you to do your dare, you would’ve never been upset in the first place. You wouldn’t have gotten rejected because – Makki knows – you would’ve never found the courage to confess to Sakusa. He thought that if he had dared you to confess, that your dream of a reciprocated love would come true. But he was wrong.

“I’m sorry, (Name). But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened.” Makki finally manages to stop you in your tracks as he stopped following you.

Your back is facing him because you don’t want to cry. You know that if you meet your best friend’s concerned filled eyes, that you will definitely break down. There’s also the fear that he won’t get the hint and will tease you about being rejected.

“He said nothing.” You say dryly. “I told him that I liked him and he just stood there.”

He’s silent for a moment before speaking up.

“He doesn’t deserve you.” Is all Makki can come up with.

Does he comfort you? He’s not entirely sure how to do that. Or should he hit you with the truth? Sure. It’s what you deserve. You deserve the truth and Makki believes that there will be no one great enough to deserve you. Not even Sakusa.

“I’m going back to my dorm.” You whisper under your breath and you don’t care if he heard you.

All you want is to take a warm shower and hide in your room. There’s nothing that can save you from the humiliation you suffered except for solitude.

So you do just that. You rush to your dorm and ignore the sounds of the water dripping onto the floor, the noise that your soaked shoes make, and all the stares along the way. You take a shower and let the water run down your back. Then, you crawl into bed and cover yourself up with blankets for the rest of the day until you fall asleep.

When you wake up the next morning, you contemplate whether or not you’ll visit the library. Will Sakusa be there, sitting in his spot? Will he spare you a pitiful glance once he sees you beeline for your own table? You don’t even want to run through all the possibilities of what could happen because you’ll talk yourself out of going. And you desperately need to go study.

Ultimately, you end up going because you would rather die than lose a day of studying a month before exams.

You walk into the library with your head down, staring at your shoes. You’re terrified that Sakusa’s going to be sitting in that spot, seemingly taunting you with all the ‘could haves.’ Some part of you is afraid that simply seeing him would make you fall into a pit of despair.

He’s not there.

You slump down into your spot with relief, letting your head rest on the back of your chair. You close your eyes, silently thanking whatever higher being for Sakusa not being here at this moment.

But then you hear the sound of approaching footsteps. Your instinct forces you to open your eyes, and like out of your worst nightmare, Sakusa is standing behind you but he’s upside down due to your position.

You feel the bile daring to come up your throat and you want to scream out of frustration and embarrassment. You sit up and turn around to face him, your hands gripping the back of your chair until they turn white. When you say nothing– because what is there to say? – he starts first.

“Hi.” He says awkwardly. “Can I sit with you for a minute?”

You’re confused and he understands. Sakusa isn’t sure how he managed to ruin something so fast yesterday. He’s convinced that everything he touches – he ruins.

He waits for your response and you nod hesitantly, rotating your body as he walks to sit in the chair across from you. When your eyes meet his dark ones, you think that he is avoiding your gaze like he’s nervous. He’s wearing his mask and he unexpectedly wraps his fingers around the string hanging behind his ears, pulling his mask down to show his face to you.

When Sakusa watched you leave yesterday, Atsumu emerged from around the back of the stands where he was crouching behind to listen to your confession. He yelled, “You idiot ‘Omi!” and proceeded to scold Sakusa for being so cold.

Sakusa definitely got an earful from Atsumu, but it brought him back to reality. He knew that he had to fix things with you, even though he’s not used to repairing any damaged relationship in his life; something in him wanted to give this a try.

He knew that he didn’t want to apologize right away in fear that you'd run off. He’d even rehearsed ways in which he’d ask you, but only because Atsumu made him practice – Atsumu knows that he’s not the best with words, but Sakusa is even more inept.

“Would you like to go to this cafe with me?” He asked painfully, averting his eyes to the side because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to ask if he was looking at your face. “I heard that the tea is good there–the flavor that you like.”

Your heart dropped at the question. Is this a pity invite or a cruel joke? No, you deduce, Sakusa wouldn’t be one to take part in such cruel jokes.

“I don’t want you to take me somewhere because you feel like you have to.”

“I want to.” And his attention returns to you. Under his gaze, you feel small, yet you somehow believe him – believe that he’s being genuine.

Is a guy like Sakusa, who is so full of doubt and animosity towards strangers, capable of forming a connection with someone like you?

“Okay.” You nod for yourself while wiping your clammy hands on the material of your skirt. “I’ll go.”

You see his shoulders drop and you realize he’s relieved. You smile unknowingly and he catches a glimpse of your fleeting expression.

“Let’s go.” He says as he gets up, pulling his mask back over his nose and mouth while simultaneously collecting his things.

“Let’s go?” You repeat in confusion.

“Yeah,” Sakusa verifies as he stands by your seat, unintentionally towering over you. “I have to make it up to you.” He mumbles, almost incoherently, behind his mask.

You wordlessly listen to him, packing up your textbooks and other materials to stuff them all into your bag. As you do so, you’re trying to get over the rapid pounding of your heart.

“And you can call me Kiyoomi.”

#haezen writes!#haezen requests #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x y/n #sakusa fluff #sakusa angst #slytherin!sakusa #haikyuu!!#haikyuu hogwarts #hogwarts AU #hq angst #hq fluff #hanamaki takahiro #hq angst/comfort #hq angst to fluff

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resetting37 · 2 months

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The shows and franchises of Evelow

@darby-draws asked

I was recently thinking about some of my OCs being more fantasy nerdy vs scifi nerdy and it got me thinking about what type of genres and media your main OCs might like? for one, just in general scifi shows or horror movies or long fantasy books. But I was also thinking, with your own world its not as easy to say they the big obvious genre staples like LOTR or Star Trek for example... but does your world have similar Really Popular things like that.

Things like: Is there a really long running tv series thats had multiple iterations, like star trek that any of your OCs grew up with and have Big Opinions on? Fantasy epic multiple movies 3 hours each to tell the story? Would any of your OCs enjoy binging that over a long weekend for fun?

Thank you for the question !! I was going to make more faux posters of some shows that could exist in Evelow, but I'd rather just go ahead and talk about the topic. More could come in the future, we'll see. I'll also add in the character opinions. (sorry in advance if this gets long.)

So Evelow doesn't have the huge library of stories that we have. Mostly due to limitations, as Evelow's shows and movies are filmed in Evelow, and though it's a big civilization, it's not quite the same scope our present day world has. They'll have maybe one or two blockbusters a year, while most movies are indie or low budget. TV shows, however, are given more budget. Though there's not really enough on the screen for characters to be too picky in their genres, so I'll just present some vague ones.

Here are some popular shows/franchises:

Paranormal Paradise

Brother and Sister duo are on a secret unit that deal with the unexplained or the paranormal, as the title suggests. Pair that with sunsets and synth wave music, and you have a show that's currently on their third season.

This one is fairly popular with Evelonians. Out of my ocs, Kat thinks it's fun and while she's "team Una" (the name of the sister character), she finds the monsters designs the best part of the show. Cora thinks she's ridiculous, as she's "definitely team Kotori" (the brother.)

Kat eventually gets Morgan into it, but Morgan isn't the least bit interested in the "fandom" aspects, like head canons or introducing more recurring characters.

The show isn't really considered nerdy, but it's a popular one.

Feast of Legacies

This one is older in relevance to the current timeline, probably aired when my characters were kids and thus has more impact. (though probably not "age appropriate", kids still liked the fun outfits and action scenes) It was a dark fantasy show about a barbaric bounty hunter that was super campy and violent.

Future spin offs have since grew with the times or made things more serious, and those can be popular too. Ivar has even acted in one of the movies too, as a nod to his arena persona lol. Characters from the show come up a lot in halloween costumes and cosplays.

Morgan and Advik probably rewatch this one again as adults. "It still holds up, guys !"

•

I don't think space stories take up a lot of space (haha) in Evelow's culture, though there are some given that there are always going to be people fascinated by it, even if we don't know much !

They have a popular anthology show called "Planetary Politics" where each season involves a different planet and a story arc surrounding a different group of characters. The show can be experimental, with many seasons involving people in makeup and costumes, even a season fully animated (sorry they couldn't find any people who could successfully play the part of space jellyfish)

Advik and Ian used to watch this show together all the time, but since then Audrey has also taken a liking to it.

•

There's a good amount of horror movies roaming around Evelow, I'd say one of the biggest franchises is Tartar-us (Though the first movie that was released many years ago was called 'Under Deck')

It's campy, it's gory, and a staple in every horror enthusiast's library (except for the esteemed ones who think this franchise should have died a long time ago.)

here's Zack arguing to Ian it's the greatest movie of all time.

(though looking at this makes me realize that outer space play enough of a role in pop culture to be featured in spinoffs in movies such as the 'pirates' franchise for kids.)

•

I want to give my characters at least one more fantasy genre to have in their world, but I'll come up with more ideas later. I also feel like I've barely answered the original question ??? So I'll at least do that with my main cast

Audrey didn't grow up with movies unless they were brought over from other cities. Her town of Dile mostly had theatre and books. She liked heroes journeys, or stories with fantastical elements.

Advik loves both fantasy and sci fi. I'd say he likes fantasy more since he's much pickier about his sci fi. (He doesn't like stuff that tries to play it like it could happen in the world. I think HE'D be one of the few people really into space stuff.)

Katsumi likes more grounded stories. She doesn't care about world building if the character writing is bad. She loves style, but not if it's devoid of anything else. Also, if she has to see inaccurate costume design one more time, she swears...

Zack prefers sci fi over fantasy, since the former leaves room for potential horror elements. (since that's his actual favorite genre.)

Avery prefers fantasy over sci fi, since the stories tend to be more conventional and the costume designs are better. (She's much less picky than Kat in that department.)

"What's the difference, they're all movies" - Morgan. (She hates labeling things into genres.)

#oc talk #world building #okay I definitely want to make more fake stories within my story #yes they'll all be as cliche as my current examples #because it's fun

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zybilna · 1 year

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Another list of recommended non D&D TTRPGs

Mostly just a list of stuff that I personally have been having fun with!

5. Pathfinder: Look if you wanna replace dnd, this is probably the easiest way to do it. It is slightly more complex, but pf2e is WAY more beginner friendly than most people expect it to be. The main source of complication is also the system's greatest strength, in that the more in depth character customization lets you fill out your character's abilities in a more compelling way. Have you ever been frustrated because none of d&d's classes fit your character idea that well? Have you ever gotten a major class feature and not used it much because it doesn't fit your idea for your character? Pathfinder may be the system for you!

It does have a few minor issues in the form of design relics from the old edition d&d it was based on, but aside from the spell prep system most of those can be table ruled out or avoided with minor build tweaks.

4. Monster of the Week: This system is great for anyone who feels more intimidated by rules-dense systems. Being a Powered By The Apocalypse game means that if you learn one of these, you learn a bunch of other systems. Monster of the week is also very inexpensive to get into (Basically everything is free aside from the GM rulebook) and has good community support!

The genre is primarily modern Urban Fantasy with a focus on solving mysteries, but the publisher's most recent book, Codex of Worlds, expands the options so you can take those same supernatural horror mysteries into settings based on The Victorian Era, The Renaissance, The Dark Ages and even The Stone Age!

3. Thirsty Sword Lesbians: Look, this is an incredibly flexible system that has a shitload of uses so its hard to describe quickly but at its core this is another PBTA game that has more of a focus on mind games and emotional drama than the actual swordfighting mechanics. Swordfighting is just a backdrop for drama, and magic largely exists as a metaphor for the characters' personality traits, this makes the system incredibly easy to reflavor or tweak. I've seen a game run with a completely mundane fencing club, a homebrew setting based on a theater department and an official module based on a chess tournament. Anywhere people are competing and communicating can be the backdrop for this game. I should also note that despite the name and most of the art, the game is designed to work well with LGBT storytelling in general.

The core mechanics are essentially a rules-lite drama simulator, with the only truly consistent elements being romance and melodrama. The flavor is flexible and the rules have a ton of caveats that say "If you don't think this fits your character, ignore it!" Its primarily a game for people who like to really get into character to make choices and who are willing to shoot themselves in the foot for the sake of being true to that character.

2. Lancer: If rules-lite systems aren't as much your thing and you wanna take a very different approach to your new campaign setting, Lancer may be the game for you! This is a crunchy mecha combat game with a really in depth customization system that lets you make some wild shit. There are a ton of different customization options on top of an iconic series of mech frames that each have unique and iconic abilities!

It's also not as intimidating to get into as most crunchy systems, as its actually pretty hard to make a "bad" build in the game, the devs have been super cool about providing good digital resources like the Comp/Con app and the community is known for being pretty helpful!

Court of Blades: So this one is a bit more of a niche, but it's basically a system reskin of the critically acclaimed Blades in The Dark with some interesting new twists. Players take on the role of a group of nobles and courtiers in a low-magic fantasy setting inspired by Renaissance Italy's feuding noble houses as they attempt to bring their house to the top.

The real appeal of this system to me is how effectively it lets players play a group of scheming rich bastards, with mechanics around currying favor and having people to do things for you. If you've ever tried to run a noble in a different system only to be frustrated at how little the game lets you use your character's wealth and influence, you might like this game! It's a narrative driven game with a very different approach to structuring plots and missions compared to most ttrpgs that creates a much more engaging narrative flow. The player character playbooks can feel a bit linear and restrictive, but if more people play this one that means more homebrew options!

#pathfinder #pf2e #motw #monster of the week #lancer #lancerrpg #thirsty sword lesbians #TSL #Court of Blades #Blades in the dark #good for anyone jumping ship from D&D

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onyxmilk · 4 months

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May I also request a match-up? I'd like one for jjk and chainsaw man. I'm chill with either gender and I'd like both SFW and NSFW.

In terms of my likes/dislikes, I REALLY like fruit and fruity drinks, it's a very important detail that I tell everyone, but other than that, I enjoy reading (usually fiction works but I've gotten into classic literature the past few months), video games (usually horror), and I have a huge love for the fantasy genre (lotr, hobbit, got, DND, ect). Dislikes are a bit harder, but one main one is I absolutely despise loud and continous noises (pens clicking, loud chewing, drink slurping, ect) they drive me mad, other than that, my Dislikes are pretty basic, I don't like the heat, salty food, coffee (plain coffee, I'll drink a latte or mocha but not really enjoy it) and that's the basic stuff, we'd be here a while if I kept going. I'll also throw this in, I've been really loving mma the past few years so I've been taking classes for almost a year now, it's more than a "like" to me so I thought I should add it.

As for my appearance, I'm definitely taller than the average lady, I'm 5'10 according to my doctor. I have black hair that reaches just below my shoulder blades, grey-blue eyes (they look more like a pale blue in the sun) I'm super pale (I'm very Irish on both sides so 🤷‍♀️) and I mean like glow-in-the-dark or vampire pale, I have quite a few freckles but none on my face, they're all on my arms and legs, and I have 3 tattoos on my arms (cherry blossom branch, spider lily, and a bumblebee).

And lastly, my pronouns are (she/her)

I think that's everything, sorry if this is longer than the usual request.

thanks for the follow, toe gobbler!! - me, to the jjk server im in, nsfw under the cut, minors/ageless blogs dni

JUJUTSU KAISEN ; CHOSO

SONG; Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex

sfw;

THIS WAS HARD!!! I really thought on this and it was him or Megumi tbh- but then I thought harder and thought 'toe gobbler needs a fix me up man', so here he is!!!

Choso doesn't mind that you're taller or even the same height, he loves the comfort you bring.

He also loves to share drinks with you because you tend to know the best ones out there, that's how the two of you discovered he also has a thing for the fruit drinks.

He loves tracing your tattoos with his fingers, he finds the designs different and unique.

He loves to see what you're doing constantly when he's home and you're home too, often over your shoulder watching you read a book or even writing.

nsfw;

Something interesting he realized with you is that he feels more... safe, so that means being vulnerable with you.

He enjoys a slow pace, he gets to admire all his doing, even if you need to guide him through every move and how a woman's body works.

He likes to be able to trap your hands above your head, fucking you slowly as you moan and whimper out his name.

Choso is also learning his kinks, and so far he loves when you're quite literally begging for him to speed up and tears are pricking your waterline.

He tends to be rough too, despite his slow pace he will go as hard and rough as he can when gripping your hips or wrists.

CHAINSAW MAN ; AKI HAYAKAWA

SONG; Little Bit - Lykke Li

sfw;

You two met at a restaurant, you were his waitress and he was your guest. He laid eyes on you and immediately fell in love with you, asked for your number and you gave it!

He loves being able to brush back your hair and kiss the back of your shoulder in the mornings when you wear a tank top to bed.

Aki doesn't know the amount of times he's counted your freckles on your arms while you slept, he just does it and it helps him relax.

He finds your taste and his taste funny, you're into fruity drinks and writing while he enjoys a black coffee and reading. Sure, when you do read, its fantasy- Aki is more of a history enjoyer.

He's surprised you have tattoos, but similar to the person above, he tends to trace them when he can't sleep.

nsfw;

Fast and rough, that's the best way to describe sex with Aki.

He loves the way your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders or drag down his back, leaving pretty red lines in your wake.

He loves loves loves when you scream his name, makes him speed up even more which results in even more noises escaping your lips.

He tends to suck hickeys and such on to your skin, sometimes such different levels of intensity its hard for you to cover them up.

He enjoys biting at your thighs before eating you out, but never deep enough to leave marks.

#anime x reader #x reader #match up #anime match up #match-up #anime match-up #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #chainsaw man x reader #csm x reader

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allhallowsthemepark · 8 months

Text

Introduction to All Hallows

So then.

Theme parks and Halloween. Halloween and theme parks.

Most of your big-name American parks do something interesting for Halloween, and it’s no wonder. In the US, this holiday is second only to Christmas in terms of popularity and theme-ability (and if the Millennials and Zoomers have their way, may just eclipse it soon…get on that, kids). What’s more, every park can find a Halloween vibe that suits its brand. Universal Studios, the outfit that basically invented horror movies, goes all-out on the grotesque with roaming hordes of ghoulish, chainsaw-wielding “scare-acters,” indoor mazes filled with horrific imagery and jump-scares, and an extra-frightening version of the tram tour. Disney, by contrast, goes family-friendly with smiling jack-o-lanterns, special parades and fireworks, and evening events featuring trick-or-treat stations and dance floors. Almost any park might toss in some zombified character performers, fog machines, and creepy music for its after-dark Halloween events.

And that’s not even counting the temporary Halloween attractions that spring up every fall like mushrooms after a light rain, and vanish just as quickly once November rolls around.

I’ve explored several types—not all of them, but enough to make an informed opinion—and that opinion is that none of them really reflects my feelings about Halloween. This is largely because that very expectation of brand-appropriateness means that only a small part of the full spectrum of moods and concepts represented by the holiday will be showcased. Halloween is complicated, man. The most obvious comparison is, again, with Christmas, and I think there's a pretty strong consensus as to what that holiday is about—the disagreements, when they arise, tend to revolve around not what Christmas means, but whether the things it means are good.

But Halloween has layers. It has textures. It's bound to, given its history as a pop culture-infused spooky extravaganza slathered on top of a romp day for children that grew out of an expression of neighborly mischief based on a Victorian celebration of mysticism and superstition harking back to a Catholic feast honoring the saints cribbed from a Celtic end-of-year harvest/ancestor worship festival. There are a lot of different tones and motifs associated with Halloween, and they're all equally valid.

What is Halloween about, when you get right down to it? Which aspect of this uniquely multifaceted holiday reigns supreme?

Costumes, free candy, and children roaming the neighborhood after dark?

The harvest season, with pumpkins and cornstalks and spiced apple cider to sip while enjoying a hayride in the country?

Witches and goblins and banshees and other beings from fantasy and folklore lurking in the forest at midnight?

Moldering graveyards, haunted castles, marauding vampires and unfriendly villages where every door is bolted and every shutter drawn promptly at sundown?

Horror movies, bloody murder, zombies at the mall and stalkers in the bushes?

All of these and more?

I have to pick the last option, and that's why I think Halloween, as a concept, could support an entire full-sized theme park, and not just during the fall but year-round. Christmas theme parks of various scales and scopes have enjoyed year-round success in the past, and while their heyday has passed by now…well, see my above point about Halloween gradually catching up with and even surpassing Christmas in popularity. Fans of Halloween seem much more tolerant of the “creep” phenomenon where it gradually gets promoted earlier and earlier in the year, than fans of Christmas. Additionally, Halloween crosses over almost seamlessly with a number of genres of fiction, including horror, thriller, and urban fantasy, all of which are evergreen in and of themselves.

If nothing else, the Goths would love it.

Stay tuned for more details about…