#or how ruby had received so much hate that (probably) as a result had two breakdowns

[sukibenders]

Being a woc fan of Bridgerton can be a struggle, especially when it comes to liking the poc characters on the show, especially the woc. Like I remember when s1 came out and the blatant microaggressions and just plain racism coming from this fandom was atrocious. You had people spewing very hateful things about Charlotte, Marina, and Simon and undermining the latter two's pain and trauma at the hands of the white characters---Marina was treated terribly by the Featheringtons and, whether you like Penelope or not, you cannot deny that she also played a part by releasing that letter to the Ton and Simon was violated Daphne no matter how people try to spin the story to offer her some form of sympathy (it still blows my mind that people would want to though).

S2 is just as bad (not even including how they changed the Sharma family's storyline than how it was in the books when that wasn't necessary) and the racist undertones many of the fans have towards Mary and Edwina (as well as Kate but for her it's carries more brown woman needing to be saved by a white man when Anthony is involved because a lot of you all in the fandom are quick to use this trope such as "oh, he's the only one who truly knows her"). The lack of screen time for this family really ends up hurting them to but even with that, whether you like Mary and Edwina or not, it would be a lie to deny the racism a lot in the fandom hold towards them (and how that falls onto the actresses because it was very apparent how many in the fandom couldn't let two Desi women shine without having to bring down the other and Netflix played into that too for drama) and paints every small thing they do as being terrible crimes but in the same breath will not have the same smoke for the Bridgertons, who have their own set of problems (but because they are also the main family, among other things, they are provided more grace without consequences).

#bridgerton #edwina sharma #kate sharma #mary sharma #marina thompson #queen charlotte #simon basset #like fandoms can be a very hostile place especially toward poc #and don't even get me started on some fans acting like they care about the poc characters but only still fall into the tropes i presented #im nervous for how this post will be received bc ngl when people call out the racist antics in bridgerton people love to downplay it #and that's just not right (for any fandom) #and this impacts actors too bc there should be no reason that charithra can hardly be excited about her role in the show #or how ruby had received so much hate that (probably) as a result had two breakdowns #on top of still being asked by polin and pen fans to denounce marina to uplift their white faves #dni if you can't have a calm conversation here #also seeing the creator of the show say for s3 kathony that there won't be as much angst #more happy couple scenes irks me in a way bc that amount of angst didn't have to flood s2 if they weren't so concerned with pointless drama #like the books themselves gave enough angst without the engaged to your sister plotline and such #also would have made anthony seem like less of a prick and actually respect a woman's honor but nope #don't even get me started on how it seems more common for the poc characters to have to gripe and struggle #(especially with things that....they should not be blamed for) at the hands of or as result of white characters #when in the same breath that courtesy isn't extended to said white characters #(e.g. marina having to push colin in pen's direction even though both failed her #to simon begin assaulted and then blamed for it by daphne and the narrative #to kate having to move mountains to grow (even though for most part she wasn't wrong) but don't even see anthony apologize for his actions) #all the actors especially the woc experience racism (and other forms of discrimination) from this fandom #i haven't even gotten into the shitshow from some fans towards simone and the actor who plays simon #as well as the racism the actresses for queen charlotte faced #a lot of yall need to do better

[ku-ro-kai]

Lust at first bite

This was inspired by Trevor and sypha from the series Castlevania- personality wise so on

This is a one-shot★

Warning;fluff and angst,sexual tension, blood drinking, heat mentioned,missionary, squirting, praise kink, manipulation,aphrodisiacs, blood, multiple orgasm

He's been sneaking and stealing looks for too long, he's grown tired of it despite his small attempts at gifts he's been getting the nyphms to deliver or trying dispatch a plan in starting a conversation with you without being killed.

To his castle before the huntresses and witches hunt him down, touya was from a Royal bloodline of vampires. He's been going out every sunset in looks for his favorite huntress

She wasn’t like the other huntress’s in his eyes.

He had come to her in the middle of the night,he was looking for fresh virgin blood,he found you out on a night stroll.

He recognized you from flyers that he would come across when wondering in abandoned villages. He came to the conclusion you weren’t no ordinary boring huntress.

You were different,unique is what he would say, your family tree was dangerous to other creatures,coming from witches and huntsman.

(A month ago)

His father warned him about your family,beware of them, don’t never go by the (L/N) markings in the woods,every creature thought your family tree was killed off.

You were out getting fresh air,you couldn’t stand being in rooms with other huntresses and huntsmen, they envied your family,despite their hate for you,there was no escaping the headmasters.your family payed their debt years ago,why were they still inviting you to these silly meetings.

You heard a low groan from behind you,a annoyed sigh left your lips”At this time,show your face”.

Dabi thought you were some stuck up whore at first, “what if I don’t want too?”Gonna skin me and turn me into boots”

You turned around to face the unknown man ,he looked like a victim of fire,ebony hair that was spiked from front to back, blue eyes that sparkled like the ocean on a full moon,he was dressed down to toe in leather ,only a upside cross hanging from his neck,fingers covered in all different metallic silver rings, ones with diamonds,rubies and sapphires.

“Who exactly are you and how’d you get passed the barrier ?”

“You’re barrier is a piece of shit ,sorry darling I just don’t state my name to any stranger."

"It's like that with you vampires? Stuck up"

"Feisty, you huntsman look down on the rest of the world and expect everyone to get on their knees and praise you"

"You monsters have curses put on y'all,so you take your anger out on the huntresses and huntsman,since we hunt you down"

Dabi rubbed his chin, you weren't wrong,if anything he would do anything to take this curse off and have a normal body.

"You're a very stubborn human"

"You're one to talk"

A small chuckle came out, dabi was a man of many lies but he couldn't lie that you weren't an interesting huntress, maybe his favorite out of the ones he met in his life.

"I'll spare your life this time darling but if we come across again, there will be no mercy"

You never met a vampire like him before, he's cocky and comes with too much pride, A total prick.

"Same to you, just keep in mind that sneaking up to your prey comes with being completely silent"

You two parted ways that night and now he hasn't been able to get you off his mind

(Present)

He took you're words to heart, the sunset were his time to go see you.

Quietly hiding in the shadows, you were always out taking a stroll, did you not receive a good capture?

The headmasters have been keeping you stored away from missions,you were completely drowned out from all the drinks you spent at the tavern,only thing in that god forsaken castle was old people and moldy fruits.

You could proceed with skinning this annoyance of a vampire and receiving money

“Do you have nothing to do besides stalk me “

Dabi never understood how you could figure out how he was there,he was the best when it came to sneaking in the shadows,or so he thought.

“Your always walking around this area,I figured I’ll stop by”.

“You’ll be foolish to think I’ll believe that lie”

“Look my name is touya todoroki,first son to the King vampire Enji todoroki but refer to me as dabi for now “

That name was catching like wildfire when you were younger,it was a story of a little vampire boy playing by himself in the mountains near a peasant village ,his father made him go up there if he couldn’t make a flame change it’s color to blue.The boy was too careless with the way he would shoot his fires into trees ,as in result,he struck a branch, that caught half the village on fire ending with getting stuck under a large burning oak tree.Some say he hunted the woods looking in revenge for his father,others say he was in search of better body.

“I’m (name),how long have you’ve been living on your own since the forest fire “

“ for 210 years, it took months for my body to get used to staples"

You had guilt in your eyes,he always saw this in his victim's face when he would suck them dry,the stares he got from their cold,decaying corpse. He loved that look

"Does it hurt?"

"What do you think" he snapped.

"Hey no need to get rude" you looked at the full moon, maybe this prick of a vampire could help you with a drink "dabi wanna go out for a drink"

He looked you dead in the eye "with you? No thanks, trying to finesse me out of my money, I knew you huntresses weren't always good out if the bunch"

"I guess we are both liars than, well I'll just take my leave, if you wanna suck my blood I'll be at the blue soul lake"

You walked away into the forest

"Why that specific area- it's hunted by witches"

"Not the big bad vampire being scared of witches"

"Who the hell said I was scared, if anything I'm just concerned why that cursed part of the forest"

"That cursed place is my home"

Blue soul lake was wretched area, swarming with witches and witchcraft. The only thing is that place is good for is the glowing lake that only shines on a full moon.

"My father told about that place, used to be ritual when witches would bring kids, kill them, sacrifice them to whatever God you nut jobs believed in and kept the skulls and eyes for gross potions. What do y'all do now, pretend to be gypsies"

You chuckled at him "no we don't do anything out of that kind, I just live there because I love the way the lake shines at night and because I grew up there"

Dabi didn't understand why you would just invite a vampire to your house as if it's the normal, he could care less,long as he can be near you, you made him feel whole again, maybe because he hasn't gotten a load off in awhile, where you good at massages?, he could make you queen, give you children and regain his body back with your weird passed down powers

He wasn't thinking right, make you queen? Breed you? Spend the rest of eternity with you? He surely wasn't in love with some thorn in the side huntress,that's below him.

"Dabi why do wear the rings and what's with the silly name"

He got embarrassed, hiding his face “it’s not silly “

"It’s a little silly"

He turned back facing you,you’re warm smile brought him comfort

“The rings are from my mother, she gave all my siblings rings”

“Ah you royals always have the easy life ahead”

“You could say that , I’ll probably still have my body back if it weren’t for my father”

“I guess the stories were right”

“I hate him , I can’t stand to even look myself in the mirror when I remember I used to look like him”

Awkward silence was there for a while

“I could've easily snapped your neck when we first met"

"Why didn't you do it"

"You intrigued me"

"Not me catching your interest -what now you want me to be your queen"

"If if weren't for your cocky mouth,you could be heir to the throne of my queen"

"you like me?!"

"I'll kill where you stand"

You covered your smile with your cape.

"you didn't say no"

Dabi turned away to hide his blushing, you were a silly little thing with the ability to have him head over heels in love with you. You were just food to him now he has to deal with red swallowing his face and this shaking feelings in his chest.

You two reached your home-it wasn't too bad, A little snags and there, he could probably fix it with a little magic, too his disappointment you didn't have nothing crazy going on- it's cozy and warm

He picks up a picture "nice place you got here darling-a little sad there isn't hearts in jars and a shit load of strange plants"

"Are all vampires like this? Assuming all witch descent are into witchcraft"

"Must be the huntsman genes"

Dabi put the picture in his suit pocket, he continued walking around your house coming across from a family tree of pictures

"Dabi what's it like living like a vampire?”

“It’s quite fun,scaring frisky young ones comes with the job,sucking blood all night long is the dream,don’t have to worry about dying since I can live for centuries also the garlic shit is a myth"

You carry a bottle of holy water out "how mad would you be if I sprayed this on you"

"Try me"

After running, what seemed about an hour, you came to a stop leaving you panting on top of the stairs"you sly bastard" your clothes were tattered and scattered all around your house

Dabi covered a burned mark of you splashing him in holy water " just wanted to mark you as mine and only mine, what do you say doll? Wanna come back and live with me"

Dabi show case devilish smile was vacant , now a show of hostile in his face

“What if I come across that corner and bite that neck of yours (name)”

His voice was calm but his demeanor was sinister.you could see red gleaming in his eyes

You saw a flash of black,now you ended up upstairs in the middle of the hallway on your back with vampire in the crook of your neck ,his keen fangs edging on your vital

"...your the devil touya"

He licked a long stripe on your neck, now placing kisses on your jaw "if I'm the devil you must be the devil's woman huh" he let out a raspy chuckle, he lifted your thighs up" your something else you know that (name),Do you get off to me to trying to kill you " he moved to the side staring at the wet mark on your neck.

He licked a long stripe on your neck, now placing kisses on your jaw "if I'm the devil you must be the devil's woman huh" he let out a raspy chuckle, he lifted your thighs up" your something else you know that (name),Do you get off to me to trying to kill you " he moved to the side staring at the wet mark on your neck.

"Dabi why is it so hot" you tried to push him off you but he wouldn't budge

"Don't worry doll, the aphrodisiacs are doing that" dabi ran his hands around your waist"those huntsman have treated you so badly, don't you wanna get revenge"

"Yes... But"

Your body was burning in the inside, how did he get his hands on aphrodisiacs? Did he sneak something on his tongue

"Dabi-please" at this point you were begging to have some sort intimacy

He took your face in his hand "but what? Together we can be unstoppable, a powerful couple, rule over kingdoms although You would look better holding my children in that stomach of yours " he ripped your tattered clothes off with ease" all you gotta say is yes darling "

"Yes, fuck yes -please dabi"

His clothes were vacant, you felt something hard press against your outer lips, you begin grinding on to his cock

Your being such a needy bitch in heat" his length closing around your walls like a fitted glove,in such a slow manner ,now accompanied by him placing a hand on the bulge poking in your stomach”your such a good huntress doll, now your becoming my prize possession, mind to ravish every night and every day" he was half way in your pussy,groaning at how tight you are "for a pesky girl, your cunt is perfect".

Dabi got closer to the stained mark on your neck, placing hickes all over it. His thoughts were clouded with marking you as his,nobody can touch you with their filthy hands again .

He pressed his fingers against your throbbing clit, soft rubbing making you walls clench around his shaft.

He pulled out, letting out a deep grunt only to plunge himself with a hard thrust, his tip pushing against your womb.

You let out a groan feeling a sharp pain,his keen nails clawing at your waist, watching your blood pouring out on to floor. The pleasure mixed with the pain sending over the edge,he went a couple thrust before cumming releases a raspy moan,dabi took his fingers licking off your blood.

"You taste just as good too" you heard coming down from your high, dabi pulled out uncovering his seed soaking out, he put your legs over his shoulders "wait dabi" you felt his fangs graze your pearl "don't order me around (name)" you jolted when his two fingers went inside your sopping pussy

He pressed the flat of his tongue on your clit with his fingers working on sending you into another orgasm. The Flicking of his tongue and the curling on that gummy spot, sucking on your inner lips with a small pop.

You couldn't hold it, your juices spraying you and dabi face. "What a slut you are doll" he licked his lips watching you pass out from exhaustion

You woke up in room that didn't belong to you, dressed in a beautiful chemist,with a robe hanging off your shoulders .there was pain in the side of your neck, two swollen puncture holes. you had a aquamarine necklace and blood red ring in your hands,the sounds of the fire popping and cracking on the side of your chair. "dabi?" you called out,hearing steps coming into the room behind you.

"Yes doll" "where are we and what did you do to me" he went over to the fire place to throw in some more wood, a navy blue half buttoned down shirt with black tuxedo pants,he was holding a glass in his hand,the liquid in the cup was too murky to be wine "If I can recall you said yes to staying with me or were the drugs that powerful to have you say anything" you remember saying agreeing to staying with but that doesn't excuse the pain in your neck

"My neck?"

"I had to for the sake of you staying with me,if you continued remaining a human I would've"accidentally" took your blood"

"What about the huntress and huntsman looking for you!"

"I killed them, you were sleep for about a month, for the remaining time I put up warnings to stay away from the castle, would hate to have humans killing our children"

Thank you for reading💖, I will be taking a small break for a while after I post my headcannons

#dabi #dabi x you #stalker dabi #dabi x reader

[skybird13]

Why I Think Fair Game Works

So we’re coming up on the midway point in this mini RWBY vol. 7 hiatus, and I have a serious addiction to Fair Game. With no more canon content coming out for another week (😭), I thought I’d provide some self-indulgent rambling in-depth analysis as to exactly why I think Qrow and Clover work so well together. I’ll be pulling off of what we have in the show so far (because I tend to base my ships off of canon context), but I’ll also be making some reasonable assumptions regarding Clover’s character since we don’t have a whole lot on him yet. 

[Note: I’m not really trying to sway anyone with this post, so if you don’t agree or don’t like FG, feel free to scroll right on by and have a nice day. I’m all for discourse but that’s not the point of this particular post. Make your own and invite me to engage and we can have a convo.)

That being said, and without further ado, here are my top reasons for being Fair Game trash. Be forewarned, this is loooong. Damn thing turned into a dissertation. 

Reason #1: Clover is a source of stability

One of the biggest criticisms I’ve seen aimed at Fair Game (aside from the more inane ones, which I will not dignify with an acknowledgment on this post) is that Qrow hates specialists. And people are right. It’s one of the first insights we get into his character in his volume 3 debut episode, right after the fact that he’s an alcoholic. I completely agree that if these two men had met in volume 3 or even 4, there is no way they would have gotten along. Clover is a soldier. A military man. He goes by the book and, in his mind, there’s not a lot of wiggle room when it comes to doing things the right way (see: his conversation with Robyn). He would have driven volume 3 Qrow up the wall, and not in a sexy way.

But the fact is, Qrow has been through a hell of a lot since then. He lost Ozpin twice (once to death and once to the lies Oz himself told), lost his way and sense of purpose because of it, almost died on multiple occasions, fell into deep emotional darkness, came under the influence of the Apathy, and had to finally acknowledge his own depression and poor coping mechanisms, or lack thereof, as a result. Shit like that changes you in deep and fundamental ways and, while I would have loved for a bit more in-show focus on this transition, I think RT gave us enough to infer the rest.

Thanks mostly to Ruby, Qrow is finally in a place where he is trying to heal for the first time since we’ve known him. He started the show as an impulsive– albeit manipulative and brilliant (see: him baiting Winter into a fight)– alcoholic who had no problem whatsoever with getting under people’s skin. The only relationships he really seemed to value were the ones he had with his nieces and with Ozpin, and everyone else could take a flying leap. Now I can’t deny that there was a certain charm to that. It’s one of the reasons I think he became such a fan favorite so rapidly; a lot of us can relate to that desire to not give a shit. But the underlying implications of that type of behavior are, I believe, pretty damn dark and serve as the earliest signs of Qrow’s depression and emotional isolation. Consider: his only functional relationships were with people who were incapable of really knowing him on a deeply personal level. Oz couldn’t because he was the one to give Qrow a purpose, thereby establishing a certain power imbalance in their relationship, no matter how close they were (I love Oz despite his mistakes before anyone comes after me for that statement and have nothing against Oz x Qrow, these are just my thoughts). And Ruby and Yang couldn’t, and still can’t, because they’re his damn nieces and being the adult in a relationship with kids means you maintain a certain distance between them and any insecurities or struggles you might have. Anything else is just not okay. He bungled that in volume 6 but he has clearly been trying to re-establish that supportive adult role in volume 7, which is amazing all by itself.

This brings us to Qrow’s emotional and mental state at the start of volume 7. Again, he’s in a place where he’s trying to heal. I don’t know how many people can relate, but that place is friggin’ terrifying because it’s the place where you have to stop lying to yourself about your problems and commit to dealing with them. But it also comes with a weird level of mental… stillness? Peace isn’t the right word, but when you’re not constantly fighting yourself anymore, you are able to breathe a little and that’s worth a lot to someone who has been trying to suffocate themselves for most of their lives. I think this has a lot to do with his shift in outlook. He’s less antagonistic because it no longer serves to feed the self-loathing monster inside him. Or rather, he’s trying to make sure he doesn’t feed it. The fact that he comes into Mantle, gets arrested for doing his job, and doesn’t immediately get in James’s face, or Winter’s for that matter, attests to the fact that he has changed. Qrow isn’t the one to call James out on the embargo or the state of things in Mantle. Instead, he steps into a role that we have never seen him in: the gentle voice of reason. He points out that James doesn’t need an entire military presence to build and launch the communications tower, and when James reveals his plans to tell the world about Salem, Qrow doesn’t outright disagree or go after him for it (as he certainly would have in earlier volumes). He simply points out that Oz spent every lifetime he had keeping that secret and then lets James explain his reasoning (flawed as it might be).

In short, all that outward anger he displayed in earlier volumes was most likely a manifestation of the self-hate storm he had brewing inside. Now that he’s decided to try to move away from that, he’s different. Of course he is. It would be completely unreasonable to expect otherwise.

Enter Clover Ebi. By sheer virtue of being who he is, Clover provides a source of stability for Qrow that he both sorely needs and has severely lacked up to this point in his life. Healing is an internal and independent process for the most part, and Qrow is going to have to sort out his issues on his own, but having someone in your life during that process who is solid is invaluable. And so far, Clover has been nothing but solid. He has been the one to pull Qrow back from bad old habits (self-deprecation and self-hate regarding his semblance). He’s been the one to take Qrow’s semblance in stride and even to get him to joke about the whole concept of having luck, good or bad, for a semblance. And so far? He’s done all of this with absolutely no strings attached. He’s not like Oz, who needed Qrow to be functional enough to carry out his spying missions, and he’s not like Ruby or Yang, who reasonably need Qrow to be solid for them because he’s their uncle. Clover is the first person who doesn’t need anything from Qrow, and so he is able to offer the type of emotional support that Qrow has never received from anyone else. They’re not even official battle partners, despite them being paired quite a bit. The lack of strings, of ulterior motives, of complicated and messy ties, and even of familial bonds, means that Clover can be the solid one. He can be a safe place where Qrow can fall apart and put himself back together if he needs to, because nothing is going to cave in if he does. Qrow won’t be putting too much weight on his nieces or on someone who relies on him for information and support. He can lean on Clover without having to worry about any repercussions. 

Reason #2: Qrow is a source of disruption 

Now for the fun flipside of my first point. While Clover provides a source of stability for Qrow, Qrow has the very real potential to provide a much-needed source of disruption for Clover, thereby balancing out what we have gotten of their relationship dynamic so far.

Being a military man, stringent structure and unconditional loyalty to his superiors are likely major aspects of Clover’s character. We have enough in the show so far to assume that’s accurate about him even if it hasn’t been blatantly stated. 

Clover carries out his orders without fail, to the point of arresting a bunch of kids and Qrow in Mantle for operating outside of official parameters. His conversation with Robyn is also extremely telling. He doesn’t have a problem with what she wants; he has a problem with how she’s trying to get it. He doesn’t believe that the ends justify the means and, in that same vein, probably also believes that institutions are there for good reason. He is the epitome of lawful good.

Qrow, on the other hand, has never operated within official parameters. He was a spy, for god’s sake, and therefore is intimately familiar with the inherent grayness of the world. He’s not someone who is going to see things in black and white, and because of this, he could offer a sort of push back against Clover’s blind loyalty to Ironwood. 

Not only is Qrow not in the military, and therefore not bound by its restrictions and dictates, but he has known James for a long time. He, more than anyone, is in the perfect position to call James out on his crap, and he’s probably the one with the best chance of actually getting through to him. Not with the same aggression and vehemence he displayed in volume 3, but with more of a tough-love approach. I fully expect this to happen at some point (and will be very sad if it doesn’t. I like James and want him to snap out of all this).

So how does this relate to Clover? Well, it forces him to acknowledge that, military or not, always trusting that the people above you are doing the right thing or the best thing is never a good way to go. He would have to step back and re-evaluate his general approach to life, which is the core of character growth. Clover never questions authority (that we’ve seen) whereas Qrow’s existence has always been in stark contrast to it. If anyone is going to act as a catalyst for Clover’s potential evolution from strict military man to a more free-thinking, free-acting individual, it’s going to be Qrow. And I think the pieces are set-up for that exact thing to happen.

Obviously, we’ll have to wait and see where CRWBY takes this one (if they take it anywhere) but the potential for growth from Clover is there because Qrow has come into his life. One of the best things couples can do is challenge each other, and these two are primed to do exactly that.

Reason #3: Opposites attract for a reason

We’ve all heard the phrase, right? Opposites attract. Sometimes I think this statement falls victim to a lot of misunderstandings so let me clarify what I mean by this. I don’t mean their chosen routes in life (rogue and spy vs. structured military man), or their semblances, or even their different combat styles. I’m talking about the complementary nature of their personalities. 

Qrow has always been a bit impulsive. It’s been established that he sometimes doesn’t fully think things through, or if he does, he doesn’t care about the consequences and is willing to deal with them (see: his battle with Winter again). Don’t get me wrong. The guy is brilliant. He baits Winter knowing it will give him the opportunity to pick a fight with James as well and call him on his shit. But I’m pretty sure he also does this knowing full well that’s all he’s going to get: a fight. He’s not going to convince James not to bring the full Atlas military presence in for the Vytal Festival by shouting at him. He knows this and does it anyway. In his fight with Tyrian, you can see more than one instance where he’s planning his moves so his semblance has the chance to work on his opponent, but it’s at the risk of his own safety as well (see: the roof stunt). There are plenty of other examples throughout the show. Qrow runs off instinct and momentum.

Clover, on the other hand, strikes me as someone who exercises a bit more caution in his life. He thinks through a situation before he steps into it and overall just seems a little slower to take action. This is true in combat situations, as the whole mine mission was meticulously planned out beforehand. You can also see this approach mirrored in the way the Ace Ops work on the whole. Vine and Elm definitely don’t rush in when they encounter Grimm in the mine, and while Marrow and Harriet might be a bit faster to go after the main target, they don’t do it without a fully formed plan. It’s not foolproof, obviously. Marrow does cut off that piece of Dust with no one there (that he knows of) to catch it, but the point is still valid. 

This tendency to go slow and feel his way is also true in Clover’s personal life. In the truck scene, you can see him watching Qrow while he talks, gauging his reactions, trying to find the best way to reach him. Nothing he says is mere chitchat. It’s all meant to pull Qrow into a conversation, which Clover tries to keep focused on Qrow himself. His opener might be Ruby but he ditches that line of thought as soon as Qrow gives him the opening to do so and shifts his attention to where he really wants it to be: getting to know Qrow.

Then you also have Qrow’s penchant for falling into dark mental places balanced against Clover’s good mood and playfulness; Qrow’s willingness to be a little more open with his emotions and Clover’s tight emotional control; the fact that Qrow feels things fully and deeply while I suspect that Clover might have emotional walls he hasn’t learned how to lower yet; Clover’s ability to follow orders and Qrow’s ability to question. And that’s all out of only 3-ish minutes of total interaction between them so far. I think as the volume goes, we’ll only get more insight on the ways in which they balance and round each other out. 

Reason #4: Shared semblances

So this has been the biggest kicker for people so far, and I’ve seen it as a point both in favor of and against FG. Some people theorize that Clover’s semblance might have some balancing effect on Qrow’s, making it much safer for Clover to be around him than it is for others. Others think that it might be more of a trade-off: good luck part of the time and bad luck the other part (I’m in favor of this). And yet others seem to see Clover’s semblance as a negative thing for Qrow, somehow dampening his own semblance or countering it to the point that it’s mentally or emotionally detrimental for him. I personally don’t quite see the logic behind this given what we’ve seen so far, but I’ll just make my point and get out of this debate because the truth is that we still don’t quite know how their semblances function together. 

What we do know is that they are two sides of the same coin, and as such, are not nearly as far apart as they might have seemed at first. They both carry around luck semblances, which I assume is pretty damn rare. Almost every other semblance we have seen has existed more in the practical realm (Yang’s damage absorption, Blake’s shadow self, Weiss’s glyphs, Ruby’s rose petal thing, Marrow’s ability to slow time, Tyrian’s ability to rip through Aura, etc. etc. etc.) And then we have these two who operate in the realm of chance, something intangible and completely unpredictable. They are fairly unique in the RWBY-verse in this sense, and uniqueness usually breeds a certain degree of separation. 

A ton of theories are floating around about how Clover’s semblance has affected him throughout his life. I’ve posited a few myself. We obviously have no idea what the canon backstory for Clover is, and while I do think it’s pretty safe to assume that while Qrow has dealt with ostracization because of his semblance, Clover might have experience with some sort of idolization or even over-reliance (which can be damaging in its own right) because of his, there isn’t a whole lot we can speculate on without more information.

So where does that leave us? With the scene depicted above. Regardless of how their semblances might play off each other or what these two have suffered (or enjoyed) as a result of them, one thing is certain: they understand one another. Qrow may not know what it’s like to be able to draw good luck to himself, but he knows what it’s like when his semblance does work in his favor and screws over an opponent. Clover, by the same token, probably doesn’t understand what it’s like having to constantly watch out for misfortune, but he most likely does know what it’s like to have his semblance flip on him and give the edge to his opponent. Additionally, them both having such similar semblances means that learning to look for signs of each other’s being at work won’t be much of a stretch for them. They would be able to adapt pretty fast to working together. Note, I’m assuming their semblances function in the same way and that Clover has no more control over his than Qrow does because it just makes narrative sense. 

This puts them in the unique position of being together in their semblances, even if they’re on opposite ends of the spectrum. Qrow has not exhibited any jealousy or bitterness towards Clover because of his semblance, and Clover sure as hell hasn’t put any distance between them out of concern for Qrow’s semblance. They get each other, and after only half a season, they have developed a level of comfort with one another that already allows them to joke about it. An inside joke that no one else could possibly understand. And that is some powerful shit for two people who have potentially (one person we know for certain has) been isolated in one way or another because of their semblances throughout their lives.

Reason #5: Clover is new

Okay, if anyone partial to a different Qrow ship has somehow made it through this monster of a post, you might want to skip this bit. Because I’m going to make an argument for why bringing in a new character to be Qrow’s love interest is actually a good idea. This is not to hate on I//ronqrow or S//nowbird or any other popular Qrow ship, but it might annoy the shit out of you so… fair warning. I’ll keep it brief, though. 

I think Qrow getting involved with someone who he has no past connection to would be insanely good for him. When it comes to James or Winter or, really, anyone else who knew him before this volume, there is a lot of baggage there. And I mean a lot. At this point in his life, Qrow is dealing with enough of his own internal shit that throwing external interpersonal baggage on top of that probably wouldn’t help him in any way. Sometimes, you just need to start over somewhere (especially when you’re trying to pick up the pieces of yourself and figure out how they go together), and Clover offers Qrow the perfect opportunity to do that. There are no preconceptions that Qrow has to deal with, nothing he has to make up for or prove. Clover won’t be hovering over him anticipating a relapse or using his past behavior to interpret his current actions, or wondering why he’s changed, or holding things against him. He can figure out who he is now without the pressures of who he was hanging around his neck. And that, like so many other things these two have going for them, is unbelievably powerful. 

Reason #6: They already have the nonverbal thing down

This one is more for funsies than anything, but come on. They’re already communicating non-verbally? 

It took me a while to pinpoint that expression on Clover’s face but I finally got it: his brows don’t lower in annoyance or anger. They furrow: the universal sign of concern. What exactly he’s worried about, I’m not completely sure. It could be any number of things at this point, from a hint that he’s not totally supportive of this particular order he’s getting (bringing Robyn into custody) to a concern that he and Qrow might be approaching a clash point (not so far, though if Qrow is going to be the disruptive force Clover needs, that point is probably coming). Either way, this look speaks volumes. I’m just not entirely certain how to read it yet. 

But in the interest of keeping up on the analysis, note his answer to James. It’s not a “yes sir” or a “whatever you say, sir”. He says “we’ll figure it out”. Qrow looks at him and only then does Clover shoot him that sideways glance thing. Is he making it clear that he means to include Qrow in this? That he wants Qrow’s help? That he knows they’re all in a crap situation but the Amity project is stalled and they need to try something so they should at least try this? They’re communicating something here and just because I don’t know what it is yet doesn’t mean this is any less significant in terms of their relationship. This kind of thing only happens when you click with someone and these two definitely click.

Bonus: They’re just so damn cute together

If you made it through that nonsense, congratulations! Have some Fair Game goodness as a reward. These two are adorable together and you will never convince me otherwise:

#fair game #qrow branwen #clover ebi #lucky charms #fairgame #rwby7 #rwby #holy shit this became a thing #it's seriously a behemoth of a post #enter at your own risk #cute pictures at the end #analysis #maybe a little too much #i don't care this was fun #took me all afternoon but whatever #enjoy!!!

[let-it-raines]

CS JJ Day 22: what a plot twist you were (1/1)

Emma’s life is solid. She has her few friends, a job that pays decently enough, and a schedule that works for her. She doesn’t want any of that to change. But when she gets a call saying she’s been left a house in Storybrooke, Maine, she ends up leaving Boston intending to deal with the house and then return to her life like nothing has changed. 

Intentions never quite work out, however, especially when she runs into a blue-eyed bartender who just might entice her to stay. 

Rating: Mature

a/n: This story is the result of late night baby feedings, leaving plot notes on my phone in the middle of the night, and then not understanding what the heck the notes section on my phone means when I wake up in the morning. Thanks to the ladies at @csjanuaryjoy​ for bringing some joy to January 💙

Found on AO3 | Here |

-/-

Thick bunches of trees with deep green leaves line the road. They’re on each side of the concrete, dark gray with a faded yellow line in the middle, and she can’t see anything in the woods through the fullness of the forest. She’s never seen anything like this, not that’s so natural, and the darkness of the sky and the gentle rain falling down make it almost haunting.

She’s not lost, but it sure as hell feels like it.

“Keep going for another five miles,” her GPS says in the British accent she can’t figure out how to change.

“Yeah, yeah,” Emma huffs, turning up her radio and increasing the speed of her wipers. “I got it.”

In a split second, the rain turns from gentle to harsh, water beating down against Emma’s old bug’s windows so hard that the glass may break, and if she could see the sides of the road, she’d turn off the road and wait the storm out. She’s got a bag of Chex Mix and several bottles of water in the back. She could definitely wait it out. But she’s also ready to get to where she’s going and out of this car, so she pushes through and keeps driving until she reads the sign in front of her.

Welcome to Storybrooke.

Finally.

Emma’s phone rings in her passenger seat, and she reaches over to press it, hitting the buttons to put it on speaker.

“Hey, Rubes.”

“Emma Swan,” Ruby huffs out, “where the hell are you? I got home from work expecting you to be here so we could eat entire gallons of ice cream, and I do mean gallons and not pints, but you were gone. I thought tonight was our pity party night.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m…going on a trip.”

“You have never gone on a trip that wasn’t with me.” “I like to try new things.”

“You’re a liar. You hate new things. Seriously. Where are you?”

“Storybrooke, Maine.” “What the hell is a Storybrooke?”

“I don’t know,” Emma huffs, peering forward to try to see where she’s going. Buildings are starting to come into view, short ones all pressed together like some kind of Hallmark movie downtown where they decorate for every holiday with an insane budget that’s not at all realistic. Maybe this is the place where they shoot those movies. The name of it sounds made up enough. “It’s just somewhere new.”

“I repeat: you are a liar.”

Emma hums as she tries to ignore Ruby and look for a place to stay tonight. It’s only ten o’clock, but everything seems to be closed, all the storefront lights turned off to cloud the town in near darkness.

Of-freaking-course.

“Look, can I tell you about it later, okay? I don’t really want to get into it. I should be home next week.”

“Next week? How are you going to be –  ”

Emma ends the call and switches her phone onto silent. Ruby is going to keep calling until Emma answers again, but she’s too tired to explain it tonight. All she wants is a warm bed and possibly a shower. She probably should have looked up hotels in this town before she came, but it was a last-minute decision fueled by the need for a change of scenery.

She pulls into a parking lot between two buildings and then stares up at the neon sign on one of them. It might be the only light on. “Who names a bar The Rabbit Hole? This town keeps getting weirder.”

There she goes talking to herself again. Maybe she’s the one who is getting weirder.

Sighing, she shuts off her car, grabs her phone, wallet, and keys before running inside the building, only getting slightly soaked. The lights inside are dimmed and it smells of cigarette smoke and spilled beer. Sweat is also likely in the air, but it’s better if she doesn’t think too much about all of the disgusting things that have been spilled in this place. The bar isn’t full, only a few people playing pool or throwing darts, and Emma ignores them to walk up to the bar and sit down on a stool.

“Can I have a glass of whatever your strongest whiskey is?”

“That’s like asking to light a fire in your stomach.”

“Whiskey,” she repeats, tapping her nail against the bar top.

The bartender hasn’t even turned around to look at her, but he nods his head, reaching up on a shelf to grab a bottle and then pouring her a glass. She doesn’t bother looking at him either, simply taking the glass and downing half of it so that it easily burns, most likely lighting a fire in her stomach. She should be asking about a hotel room and getting out of here, but the reality of the past few days is starting to hit her enough that she needs a drink.

Boyfriend cheated.

Couldn’t catch her skip that would have paid rent for the next two months, something that’s been happening a lot lately.

Received a call from a lawyer saying her foster mom from when she was fifteen left her a house in Storybrooke, Maine.

That woman had been crazy. She’d been Emma’s best foster parent, one that genuinely cared, and then one day she pushed Emma into the street when there was oncoming traffic because she’d believed Emma had magic or some bullshit like that. The woman was declared mentally unstable, and yet somehow her lawyers have allowed her to give a vacation home to Emma, someone she has no relation to when Emma knows the woman had family. Sisters, she thinks.

Walsh cheating and the skip being elusive suck, obviously, but they haven’t quite shaken her to her core in the same way.

Her past is her past, and she doesn’t want to relive it.

So why the hell is she here?

“Are you passing through, or are you visiting?”

“Hm?”

“Are you waiting out the storm, love?” the bartender repeats in a deep, foreign accent. He sounds like her freaking GPS. “Or are you visiting the town?”

Emma finally looks up from her drink to see him. The light in here is so poor that she can’t quite make out his face, but there’s a hint of ginger in his beard covering a sharp jawline. A quick glance down shows her muscles under a tight plaid shirt, and that has her looking back up. He’s got dark, messy hair that’s been tousled one too many times, but mostly, all she can see is the blue of his eyes.

Damn.

“I could be from here,” she sighs, running her finger of the rim of her drink.

He scoffs and tilts his head to the side, tongue running over his bottom lip. “This is true. About twenty-thousand people live here, and while I don’t know each and every one of them, I do know that this bar really only sees regulars in here. It’s not often that I get to see someone new.”

“So you’re guessing I’m new on a hunch.”

“Ah, well, that and the fact that your t-shirt says ‘Boston Bail Bonds’ on it. I’m assuming that can only be found in one place.”

“Maybe I just collect t-shirts.”

The man clicks his tongue. “Maybe. Can I get you anything else, Boston?”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Another glass of this and directions to the nearest hotel.”

“That I can do for you, love.”

“Not your love, buddy.”

“Pity that.”

She downs the rest of her drink before he refills her glass and then slides a piece of paper in front of her, quickly drawing a map of downtown and where she can find a hotel. It’s a bed and breakfast behind a restaurant, and Emma commits it to memory because there’s no way this piece of paper is going to make it through the weather outside.

After she pays her tab, Emma makes her way out of the bar with the umbrella the bartender gave her, and quickly hops in her car to drive the few feet to the bed and breakfast only to find that there’s no parking and she has to park back at the bar and run across the street in this New England monsoon.

This town makes no sense.

And she could totally be staying in Ingrid’s house for free, since it is her house now, but that’s creepy and disturbed on so many levels.

Then again, so is all of the floral wallpaper at Granny’s Bed and Breakfast.

“Welcome to Storybrooke, Emma Swan,” the old woman says as she hands Emma the keys to her room.

-/-

Emma sleeps until two in the afternoon.

She doesn’t mean to, not really. She was supposed to meet with Ingrid’s lawyer about the house at noon, but apparently she can’t be a responsible adult and make her appointments on time. The moment she wakes up and realizes it, she calls the law firm and tries to reschedule only to be told that she’ll have to wait at least two weeks because Mr. Nolan has gone out of town for vacation.

He has got to be kidding her.

He’s not. He’s going to Nevada to visit his wife’s family.

Emma groans and falls back onto the springy bed. What is she supposed to do now? She wanted this over with, and as much as she deals with the law on a regular basis, it’s more dealing with scummy guys not paying child support or assaulting someone. It’s not real estate law or anything having to deal with what happens when someone leaves you a freaking house.

Her phone buzzes next to her.

Walsh Osbourne: Can we talk?

Walsh Osbourne: It wasn’t what you think it was.

Walsh Osbourne: Please, baby. I just want to talk. I love you.

Emma could vibrate out of her skin she’s so angry to see texts from him. What a douchebag. Real scum of the earth, that one.

Emma Swan: I hate when you call me baby. You should know that. I pointed it out every fucking time. We’re over, Walsh. I don’t deal with cheaters.

The little bubbles pop up, but she doesn’t wait to see the message. Instead, she blocks his number and keeps herself from having to ever hear from him again.

Asshole.

Food. She needs food. It’s too early to have another drink, but food sounds like a great idea.

After showering and getting dressed in a pair of jeans and a white sweater, she runs downstairs to the diner attached to the bed and breakfast. There’s only one other person in there, and it doesn’t bode well for Emma not getting food poisoning from the food. But the grilled cheese and onion rings end up being good, the hot chocolate even more so, and when she’s finished, Emma tips her waitress and asks her for directions to the police station.

If she’s going to be here for two weeks – because there’s no way in hell she’s going back and then doing this drive again – she might as well see if she can make some money. She knew getting licensed in Maine would come in handy eventually.

“What can I help you with, lass?”

“Um, yeah, my name is Emma Swan, and I was wondering if you guys were in need of a bail bondswoman.”

“Graham Humbert,” he says, sticking his hand out for her to shake. “We usually deal with bonds in the neighboring country. They have an office already, though, so if you’re thinking about setting one up, I’m not sure you’ll have much business.”

“I do more of the tracking down than the office work.”

He cocks his head to the side and softly smiles at her. She’s only seen two men in this town so far, and both of them have been attractive and had foreign accents.

They’re in rural Maine. That makes no sense. None of this does.

“So more of a bounty hunter then?”

“It’s a mixture. So do you have any jobs? Short-term probably.”

“Do you know how to mix a drink?”

Emma turns to where the familiar voice is sitting. It’s the bartender from last night, and in the light of day, he looks much the same but with clearer features. It’s just those damn eyes – they’re even bluer in the sunlight, and they have to be contacts or something.

“A few.”

“Well, Swan,” he sighs, her name curled on his tongue with his accent, “I’m looking for an extra hand at the bar if you’re going to be in town for awhile. If Sheriff Humbert doesn’t have something for you, of course.”

“I’m sorry, lass. I don’t think I do. You’d have to go to Easton and ask them there.”

Emma sighs and turns to the other man. “You’d hire me just like that? You don’t want to run background checks or call my references?”

He waves her away, standing from the desk and sliding over paperwork to Sheriff Humbert. “No, I’m good. I can train you this afternoon, and then if you’re dreadful, I’ll let you go.”

“Do I get to keep tips?”

His smile curves up on one side. “Of course. Killian Jones. It’s a pleasure to meet you, milady. Or, rather, to make your acquaintance again.”

Great. The guy who’s giving her a job is also some freak who talks like he’s from another century.

(Or maybe just likes he’s British.)

Killian finishes up whatever business he had in the police station, talking to Graham for a few minutes, before he asks her if she’s ready to go. They walk the few blocks back to The Rabbit Hole, which looks far seedier in the light of day, and Killian unlocks the door before holding it open for her.

“So are you a gentleman or something?”

“I’m always a gentleman, love,” he says, leaning into her and lowering his voice. “Though, don’t feel special. I do like to hold the door open for most anyone, just as I call most people ‘love.’”

Her cheeks flush red, memories of her grumbling about his term of endearment last night. “Well, I’ll try not to be too disappointed.”

He chuckles and keeps walking through the bar, flicking the light switches until the place is illuminated. It’s actually much cleaner on the inside than it was last night, the haze of the night gone, and she can see where all of the chairs are resting on the table and the floor has been freshly mopped.

“So, it’s pretty simple. We open at four and close at two. Weekdays are calm, just a few regulars who almost exclusively drink what’s on tap, and then on the weekends we’re usually a little more packed with everyone trying to unwind or find a date.”

“People come here to find dates?”

“It’s the only bar in town, so if that’s how you’re looking for a date, yes.” He stares at her, but when she doesn’t say anything back, he nods his head and keeps walking through the bar. “Restroom is back down that hallway as well as the utility closet. The kitchen is directly behind the bar. My old buddy doubled as bartender and cook before he moved. Can you do both?”

“Not unless you want your customers to get food poisoning.”

His eyes crinkle with his smile. “We’ll figure something out then, Swan.”

-/-

Her first night at the bar is hectic.

There’s a bachelor party from two towns over coming in on a Wednesday night of all things, and every one of them hits on her. They don’t do it well either. How one of them is getting married is a mystery to her because he both doesn’t know how to flirt and obviously has no respect for his future wife. Killian asks her if they’re bothering her, she tells him she can handle herself, and they move on with their night and their jobs.

That’s pretty much the only time they talk the entire time unless he’s giving her some kind of instruction. Being behind the bar is a completely different experience than the two of them being on opposite sides.

It’s quieter, much quieter.

At least she thinks that it is until it’s six nights in, a rainy Monday evening much like the one when she got here, and they have no customers.

None.

He asks why she’s in town, she evades the question again, but eventually the quiet begins to get to her, and she huffs and starts talking while focusing on getting a stain off the bar top.

“Just wanted to get away.”

“Ah, so relationship problems.”

She turns to him then. “Wait, just because I’m a woman means my only problems can be relationship problems?”

His brows arch. “I simply meant any relationship. Romantic, familial, friendship. I find most everybody who’s running from something is running for one of those reasons. I’ve never known too many people to leave a place because they were upset over a job.”

“Yeah, well that seems like something a personal thing. People run for all kinds of reasons.”

“Fair enough.” He tugs the sleeves on his flannel shirt up, rolling the cuffs until they’re at his elbows, and Emma gets a glance of toned forearms and angry red scars inching up his left arm. She wants to ask, but it’s none of her business. And asking him questions means he’ll feel more entitled to ask her the same things. “Your business is your business. Simply figured you might want to make a little conversation since we don’t have any business.”

“Nope,” Emma sighs, “I’m good.”

The next night is better, and the night after that. Though, Emma does realize that she’s now fascinating to the town as a new person, which they apparently don’t get a lot of. It’s obnoxious, but it also means the bar starts getting a steady stream of people who are curious as to who she is and what she’s doing.

At least they give good tips. She’s all about the tips.

“You’d think you had magical powers for how they’re all staring at you,” Killian mumbles as he walks past her with a tray of drinks.

“It’s creepy.”

“It dies down. Trust me.”

For a moment, she wants to ask, to get to know more about him, but she doesn’t want to open that can of warms. It’d be too difficult to close.

-/-

“This place is a piece of shit.”

“It’s certainly got character,” David Nolan says, obviously uncomfortable with her language. He is not what she expected Ingrid’s lawyer to look like, but he’s what she’s got. A forty-year-old wearing a flannel shirt and dirty boots while meeting a client is definitely unlike any attorney she’s ever met, but so far, she doesn’t mind him. “Ingrid was never here. I only met her once or twice. I think this was her aunt’s house, so it’s definitely on the older side.”

Emma nods and presses her foot down on the porch only for the wood to start cracking underneath her. The foundation of the house is probably falling apart, the windows are broken, roof shingles are falling off, there’s some rot on the columns, and she hasn’t even gotten to go inside.

“Did she not hire someone to do maintenance?”

“What do you think?”

Emma scoffs and presses against the front door until it’s opening for her and revealing dust-covered furniture and more decay. It’s not as bad as the exterior, but it’s not good. “So, what exactly do I do here? Can I refuse the house?”

“You can.”

“But if I do keep it, what happens then?”

“Well, it’s yours, and you’re responsible for it and for paying property tax. It’s not much, but honestly, I think your best option is fixing the place up and then putting it on the market. It’s basically free money.”

“There’s no such thing.”

David laughs, and she can’t help but feel like he’d be someone who would be good to have around in life. “Think on it, okay? You have some time.”

-/-

“Do you know anything about house repairs?”

“Pardon, love?”

“Home repairs,” she repeats, tipping back her bottle of water. “You look like you’re…handy. Do you know how to repair things like windows and floors or putting a hinge back in a cabinet?”

“Well,” Killian starts, “window frames I can do. Window glass repairs require a professional. Hinges I can do, though. I think I’d have to know what kind of floor repair you need. Why do you ask?”

“No reason.”

Killian quirks his brow. “Believe it or not, Swan, but I’m actually quite perceptive. You’re not asking for no reason.”

“So I’ve gathered.”

“Oh, so you’ve been watching me then?”

“I’ve been working with you every single day for two weeks.” Emma rolls her eyes at his smirk. “I notice things.”

“Funny, so do I. You’re more of an open book than you think.”

With that, Killian walks away to move across the bar to tend to a group of linemen sitting at the table in the back. They all go by some kind of ridiculous nickname, and she can’t remember any of them at the moment despite them always being in here. But the asshole probably said that line and walked away just to annoy her. He seems to like to do that, getting some kind of reaction out of her and then walking away.

What the hell is that supposed to mean? She’s an open book?

Killian’s words nag at her all night, his accent curling around each of them in her memory, but he goes on as if everything is normal. Nothing about her life is normal right now. She’s living in a strange town, sleeping in a bed and breakfast with flowers on all of the walls, and working at a bar all the while avoiding everything about her life.

“Someone left me a house in town,” Emma blurts out two hours later. They’ve only got seven people in the bar now, and she can’t distract herself by flattering men so they give her more tips. “That’s why I’m here. I had to deal with it, and then the lawyer was out of town for two weeks because apparently that’s a thing he does. But I went and saw the house today, and it’s a disaster. That’s why I asked about the home repairs.”

Killian’s mouth curls from one side to the other, and she wants to smack it off of his smug face. She also kinds of wants to kiss it.

Woah. Where did that thought come from?

(Probably from having her life turned upside down and losing her boyfriend and being left a house by her crazy ex foster mother.)

(And staying in this town instead of going home and calling her boss about her not being available for jobs.)

(Not having Ruby to complain to likely doesn’t help.)

“Are you planning on living here then, Swan?” He leans forward and props his chin in his palm while his brows reach his hairline. “Did you find me that irresistible?”

“Shut up.”

“You have a way with words.” Emma groans at him, and Killian keeps on smirking. “Look, I’ve been renovating this bar and the apartment above it for about a year now, so I know a thing or two about home renovations, as I told you. I can take a look at the house for you and answer any of your questions.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“You were asking for advice earlier.”

“But I don’t need any help!”

He holds his hands up and steps away. “I apologize, love. I seemed to have misread the situation. I won’t do it again.”

Shit.

She messed up, didn’t she? Of course she did. Why is she always so rude to people who are trying to help her?

“Killian?”

“Mhm?”

“Would you like to come look at the house with me tomorrow before work?”

He turns to her and smiles again, a little glint in his eyes. “Meet me here at noon.”

-/-

Killian tells her the place isn’t in as bad as shape as she thinks it is. Emma can’t imagine that as a giant spider crawls across the living room, but he swears that it’s true.

He also offers to help for no cost to her other than the supplies.

“Why would you do that?” “I actually quite fancy you from time to time when you’re not yelling at me, and I enjoy the work.”

And for some insane reason, she makes the decision to stay in this weird as hell town and fix up this house so that she can sell it and leave this whole thing behind her. Her life was going to shit in Boston, and she needs a break from that. She needs some kind of change and purpose, and maybe she’ll end up being able to fix this house up and sell it for enough money that she comes into an actual savings account for the first time in her life.

What a thought.

On slow nights at the bar, Emma watches videos on the best ways to paint window trim and how to buff hardwood floors. She looks into the electrical stuff too, but that seems like a recipe for disaster. Or death. Really, it looks like a recipe for her death.

Definitely.

Killian will walk by, muttering comments under his breath about the videos she’s watching and how absolutely inane some of the people are, but she ignores him and keeps trying to learn. Fixing up a house, even a rotting pit like this one, shouldn’t be too hard. It’ll be fine.

It starts with having all of the wiring inside the walls stolen, which is decidedly not fine.

“Who the hell steals electrical wiring?” Emma huffs as she and Killian walk through the house, cold morning air nipping at their extremities. “What’s the purpose of that?”

“They sell it.” “For how much?”

“Not much, but it’s something.” He hits his hammer against the hole (one of them, at least) in the drywall. “I can call Scarlet and have him fix your wiring, but we’ll have to fix the walls ourselves.”

“I can’t afford an electrician right now.”

“Don’t worry about it, love. He owes me a favor.” “A favor to rewire an entire house?”

He winks. “Trust me.”

“Don’t think I’m taking my eyes off you for a second, Jones.”

He freaking bows, throwing in an exaggerated wink too. “I would despair if you did.”

The entire month of September is spent the same way. She and Killian meet up at the house at noon with takeout from Granny’s for lunch (which is really breakfast for them since they wake up at eleven most days) and work on the house until they have to go to the bar. They’re the only two people working there right now, which has got to be against some labor law, but Emma doesn’t mind not having the days off. She likes the money and likes keeping busy. When she asks Killian about it, though, he simply hums and says that he hasn’t taken a day off since he bought the place.

She had no idea he was the owner. She thought he was the manager or something who happened to be living there.

(Not her brightest moment.)

How does a British man end up owning a bar in a small town in Maine?

She almost asks, but it’s not her business. None of his life is.

But that doesn’t keep her from learning that he’s got a penchant for rum and for double-stuffed Oreos. There’s a dirty joke there, and Killian most definitely makes it. He’s also got a penchant for making a dirty joke or sliding an innuendo into every possible situation. It’d be creepy if it wasn’t so damn charming sometimes.

But it’s not charming. Nope. It’s just…it’s who he is. That’s all. And it’s something she’s got to get used to since this is apparently the man she’s going to be spending all of her time with. It would scare her because in a situation like this, she’d usually have already had sex with him and then have some kind of meltdown. She doesn’t know why she does stuff like that, but she does.

(That’s a lie. She definitely knows why.)

Emma is not going to sleep with him, though. It’s not going to happen. Ever. She is not going to be doing the whole dating – or not dating – thing again anytime soon. Or forever.

It’s October when she starts to feel like maybe this house has hope. It’s still a mess, but it’s making definite progress.

It’s also when she realizes that maybe she doesn’t hate this town so much. It’s still weird and kooky and doesn’t quite make sense, but it’s also full of good people. David, Ingrid’s lawyer, ends up pitching in a hand on window repairs, and his wife Mary Margaret may be one of the sweetest people Emma has ever met. She bakes food for Emma and talks paint colors and cabinet stains and always has a smile on her face. Will Scarlet is always lurking around, even once the electrical work is done, and as obnoxious as he can be, Emma kind of likes him. He’s helpful and kind of funny and he beats Killian’s ass at pool at the bar every single time they play.

Killian pouts and mopes around after he loses, and Emma gets an infinite amount of joy out of it.

“You look pathetic, Jones.”

“I do not look pathetic.”

“You do.” She turns around behind the bar to tease him as he grabs a bottle of his favorite rum off the shelf and pours himself a small glass, gulping it down. “You should really learn not to be such a sore loser.”

His brow arches. “Oh, and you wouldn’t be a sore loser?”

“Absolutely not. I wouldn’t lose.”

Killian exhales with his laugh before putting his glass down and inching closer to her until his back is behind hers, warmth from his body covering her so that little bumps pop up over her skin and her breath hitches. It takes everything in her not to shiver while her stomach flips.

“Is that so?”

“It is,” she whispers, trying to keep her breath steady.

“Well,” Killian whispers right back, his scruff brushing up against her cheek and sending a shiver down her spine, dammit, “I do love a challenge.”

With that, he moves away so quickly that his heat immediately evaporates, and if it wasn’t for the swirling in her stomach, Emma would swear it was all a dream.

What the hell just happened?

There’s a low whistle across the bar. “Emma fucking Swan.”

Emma whips her hair toward the sound, and her jaw may literally drop. “Ruby?”

“Oh, so you remember me,” Ruby scoffs. She’s smiling, but there’s fury in her eyes. “I figured you’d forgotten since we only talk on the phone and you’re not living in our apartment anymore.”

“What are you doing here, Rubes?” Emma asks as she leans over the bar to hug her. At least Ruby hugs back. She doesn’t have to, and Emma appreciates that.

Ruby settles down on the stool in front of her, and Emma realizes the entire bar is staring at the two of them. “I took off for your birthday, remember? We were going to binge watch TV and stuff our faces with junk food and feel no guilt about it.”

“Shit happened.”

“And by shit you mean Walsh cheating, your job sucking, and then this crazy lady leaving you a house even though she tried to kill you when you were a teenager?”

“Ruby,” Emma hisses, “shut up. Everyone can hear you, and I don’t want everyone knowing my business.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Emma doesn’t dare look over at Killian to see if he heard all that. She doesn’t need to. She knows that he heard it all. It’s that whole perceptive thing. “Do you want something to drink? Or eat? You must be so tired after the drive.”

“The biggest glass of wine you have. You know what I like.”

Emma nods and turns around to their wine selection before Killian walks up behind her again, this time putting more distance between them. It still feels like he’s right there though, like he never really left.

“You okay, love?”

“Just dandy.”

“Well, your use of the word ‘dandy’ makes me think otherwise.”

Emma rolls her eyes and looks up at him. His eyes are stupid concerned and stupid blue, and who does he think he is being so concerned about her when he barely knows her?

“I’m fine.”

“Hey, hot guy who’s flirting with my friend,” Ruby yells out. Killian’s brow raises at her as his eyes glance to the side. He’s silently asking her for permission to talk to Ruby, and her resolve deflates immediately. She nods and steps away with the wine, leaving him to Ruby. “What’s your name?”

“Killian Jones. Are you the infamous Ruby Lucas?”

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me. That’s funny because I’ve heard nothing about you.”

“You’re obviously much more interesting than me.”

Ruby takes a sip of the wine Emma pours for her before Emma is called to the other end of the bar to deal with some of the cops who are here after their shift. Her ears never leave Killian and Ruby’s conversation, though.

“I mean, obviously,” Ruby agrees, leaning forward so her boobs are nearly falling out of her dress. Emma almost drops a beer glass. “What exactly do you think you’re doing with Emma? She doesn’t need some knight in shining armor to rescue her just because she’s a little vulnerable right now. I mean, you obviously ran a background – ”

Emma’s grip loosens until the tray of beer glasses she was holding slips out of her hands and falls to the ground, glass splitting off into shards and covering the floor.

Shit.

“Don’t move, Swan,” Killian calls out, immediately moving away from Ruby and coming toward her, glass crunching underneath his boots. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she croaks out. In truth, she doesn’t know. her heart is in her throat, and she can’t really breathe. “I’m fine.”

His eyes scan over hers, but he doesn’t dispute her words. “I’m going to clean this up, okay? Why don’t you go sit with your friend? Be careful. I’m not sure how thick your shoes are.”

All Emma can do is nod, and she’s basically a robot as she walks toward Ruby, who is still sipping on her wine and tapping away at her phone. Emma loves her, but sometimes she doesn’t think before she acts. Half the time it works out, and half the time it means Emma is stuck cleaning up Ruby’s messes.

(While Killian seems to be stuck cleaning up Emma’s.)

“What the hell?” she hisses, trying to keep quiet. “You’ve been here for ten minutes, and you’re already telling everyone shit they don’t need to know.” “I didn’t mean to! I mean, I figured he did know since you’re obviously sleeping with him as well as working for him.”

What the hell?

“I’m not sleeping with him. I’m not sleeping with anyone. And he didn’t run a background check on me. Killian’s a good guy, and he’s doing me a lot of favors, okay?”

“If you’re not sleeping with him, he definitely wants to sleep with you. Like, he’s having eye sex with you right now.” “You’re gross, and you have the mind of a teenage boy.”

“I’m speaking the truth,” Ruby nods while her mouth opens with a long yawn.

“Rubes, why don’t you go back to my hotel room, okay? It’s late, and you’re tired. I’ll meet you when my shift is over.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Emma nods, “and we can talk about what we’re going to do for my birthday tomorrow.” Ruby smiles, and Emma tries to let some of her anger fade away. This is her best friend, and she’s got her own faults just like Emma does. Hell, Emma pretty much ghosted her for two months, and Ruby isn’t even really mad. They’ve both got their issues. It’s fine. It’s life. Ruby has never done anything to purposefully hurt Emma.

Ruby takes Emma’s hotel key and leaves, and for the rest of her shift, Killian tiptoes around her. He’s timid and not making any of his jokes. There’s almost no personality to him, and for a few moments, she starts to believe that he’s mad at her. In actuality, he’s probably just realized he’s been working with someone with a criminal past for two months.

“Hey, Killian? Can we talk?”

“Swan – ” he hesitates, holding the chair he was about to put up.

“No, just, please let me explain some of this, some of what Ruby said.”

His lips are pressed tightly together. “You want to come upstairs? I have coffee there.”

“Coffee sounds great.”

They stop what they’re doing, and Killian turns on his heels to walk up to the second floor of the bar to where she knows his apartment is. She’s never been up this staircase, never even thought about it, but she follows him without question. His apartment isn’t much. It’s clean, which doesn’t shock her for how Killian is, and all of the appliances have been updated. Other than that, though, it’s pretty bare bones – brown leather couch, television mounted on the wall, coffee table full of books that should be on the tall bookshelves against the wall, and a bed with a deep blue comforter pushed back against the wall behind a half-wall.

Oh, and a coffee machine. An actual one. Not a Keurig.

That’s where Killian starts puttering around, not bothering to tell her to make herself at home or not to touch anything. His words can be flowery sometimes, but oftentimes he doesn’t say anything at all, simply letting her decide what she wants.

She kind of likes that.

Except for right now when she’s freaking out.

“So,” she begins.

“You want milk in your coffee right? I’m afraid I don’t have your preferred creamer.”

“Milk is fine. So, Killian, I – ”

“Look,” he starts, his voice gruff, “I don’t care about your past. We all have one, myself included, and it’s not great. So unless you’re a murderer or are going to rob me blind, I don’t need to know.” He turns to her as the coffee percolates and raises both brows, wrinkles appearing on his forehead. “Are you a murderer or are you going to rob me blind?”

“No,” Emma quietly admits.

“Then I know everything I need to know unless you really want to tell me why I would need to run a background check on you.”

She bites down on her lip, her stomach twirling. She never wants to tell anyone this, but the words are at the tip of her tongue. “I was sixteen, had just been taken out of Ingrid’s custody, and I was dating this older guy. I loved him, thought he loved me too, but then he stole some watches, framed me for it, and got the hell out of dodge. I went to jail for it, but I promise I didn’t do it. I’m not going to rob you blind. The only things I’ve ever stolen were some keychains and food when my foster parents didn’t give me dinner.”

Straightforward and only the facts. That’s the only way she can talk about Neal without hurling.

Killian’s brows furrow, and she wonders if he can express every emotion with just his eyebrows. It almost seems like it. “He’s a bastard. So is the bloke who cheated on you, by the way. A bloody fool.”

“I agree with that.”

Killian breathes out and turns around, opening up a cabinet to pull down a coffee mug, pouring milk and coffee into her cup before pouring black coffee into his. He hands hers over to her, and she immediately takes a sip while Killian stares down at his mug, tapping his fingers on the countertop.

And then he’s pulling up his Henley’s left sleeve until she can see those familiar red scars.

“I was in the Navy in England,” he begins. “I thought it was my calling. I loved everything about it, and then there was a damn mechanical misfiring that caused an explosion and tore up my arm and part of my torso. Hurt like hell, and I don’t know…I guess I kind of lost the passion for serving, and when my contract ended, I didn’t reenlist. Then I moved here. I’ve got dual citizenship. Mum was an American.”

“I thought you said people don’t run because of jobs?”

“I did say that.”

“Isn’t that what you did?”

“I ran because of my girlfriend ending our relationship to go back to her husband I didn’t know about and my brother’s death,” Killian corrects. The job simply happened to give me the push.”

Emma’s got a million questions, but she doesn’t think she should ask them. It’s probably best not to. “I’m sorry. That sucks.”

“Aye,” he laughs, scratching his ear. “It does. Life sucks, as you put it. That’s why I don’t judge you. That’s why I’m so willing to help you out with the job and with your house. You looked like you needed some help, and I know what it’s like to be in your position.”

Oh.

No one has ever done something like that for her, not really, and Emma thinks to herself once more that under all of his gruff and brooding and penchant for getting angry at customers, he’s a good man. She gets up and walks over to him, pressing up on her toes to lightly brush her lips over his cheek. His scruff burns against her lips, and she gets a stronger whiff of cologne than she ever has as her own cheeks heat up.

“Thank you, Killian.”

He scares her, in more ways than one, but weirdly, she almost craves that little jolt of fear, one she feels in the tingling of her lips far after she leaves his apartment.

-/-

Things shift after that night. It’s not in some monumental, earth-shattering way, but there’s definitely a difference in how Emma and Killian interact. Ruby spends the weekend with them, touring the house and sharing her opinions on what it looks like now and how it should look in the future. Ruby doesn’t get why Emma is staying in Storybrooke, doesn’t understand why she can’t get rid of the place and come back to Boston, but she still supports Emma. It’s what friends do unless they’re making batshit crazy decisions.

Ruby’s words. Not hers.

Besides, Ruby is convinced that Emma is staying for Killian, which actually would be batshit crazy. She’s not staying here for him. She’s staying here because she needs to fix up this house. She needs to fix up this house to prove she can, sell it, and wash her hands of anything and everything that Ingrid left behind.

Killian gives her the night off for her birthday, tells her to go out and have fun, but since there’s only one bar in town, they hang out at the Rabbit Hole and drink fruity drinks Killian hates making and eat onion rings he made specifically for her, mumbling something about how he knows that she really wanted to spend her day at home in pajamas eating junk food instead of hanging out at the place where she works.

She doesn’t mind, not really. Especially when Killian tells her that he’ll cover her tab for the night, throwing her a downright dirty wink and whispering in her ear that he’d take tips in other ways.

Ridiculous man. Such a cocky asshole sometimes.

When Ruby leaves town and heads back to Boston, she tells Emma to stop being stupid and to do something good with what she’s got here. If she’s going to be here, she needs to make it worth it.

Emma tries to do just that. She really does, but as the months pass and the house gets closer and closer to being presentable (and functionable) enough to sell, all Emma can think is that she’s got an apartment back in Boston and a job that will take her back if she begs just enough.

Boston is safe. Boston is…home. In Boston, there’s no man with blue eyes and a sharp wit who makes her stomach swirl like she’s got damn butterflies fluttering around in there.

Leaving Killian makes her heart ache, but admitting that to herself is something she’s barely capable of. Admitting it to him would be damn near impossible.

-/-

“Swan,” Killian calls out as she walks into the bar, “come help me get these blasted lights up. I thought it would be nice to make it a little festive in here for Christmas.”

He’s standing on a chair up against the wall, box after box of white lights scattered around his feet, and as capable as Killian is, this seems like a disaster waiting to happen. She takes a step toward him, a step toward his bright smile and slightly overgrown beard, but then she stops. She was supposed to be in and out, just like that. She wasn’t supposed to get attached.

She can’t stay.

“I sold the house, Killian.”

He drops a string of lights to the ground, small shards of glass scattering everywhere.

Shit.

“You what?”

“I’m going to sell the house,” she corrects. Her heart is beating faster than it ever has. “I got an offer from a couple from New York who wanted it as a vacation home and are going to finish the renovations and add on an extra room. I don’t really know. But it’s money that I need and that will help me out back in Boston.”

“Emma – ”

She hates when he says her first name. It makes her throat tighten and her stomach ache, and no matter how many times he says it instead of calling her by one of his many names for her, she’ll never get used to it.

She swallows the lump in her throat.

“You’re leaving?” Killian asks, obviously devastated. She hates that she knows the looks on his face and knows how he feels without even a word now. She nods. He knows her looks as well. “Stay, Emma.”

“I can’t.” “Why not? Why can’t you stay?”

“I don’t live here. I have a life back in Boston. I have friends, a job, a – ”

“A what?”

“I don’t know,” Emma groans, hot tears pricking in her eyes. When did any of this happen? How did it happen? How did she allow herself to have so many feelings? “I don’t know, but I can’t stay here. It was only supposed to be a day, maybe a week. It wasn’t supposed to be months. It wasn’t supposed to be this.”

She motions between the two of them, speaking the words that neither of them have spoken over long days working at the house, long nights working here, and too quick of times watching movies in his apartment or grabbing lunch at Granny’s or even racing each other on their runs.

She knows. He does too.

“You can see a future here, and that scares you,” Killian tells her, stepping close.

“Oh, let me guess, with you.”

“Aye,” Killian says as he steps into her space, the now familiar scent of his cologne surrounding her while the warmth of his hands presses through her jeans and then her sweater as his hands move from her hips to her shoulders. “You and I both know – ”

“We don’t know anything!”

His jaw clenches, and she knows he’s holding back. She knows him well enough to know he’s pressing down the fire within him.

“Emma,” he whispers, and her heart does that thing again that’s got to be medically impossible, “you have been the best part of my life for the past four months, and I know that I can’t ask you to stay. I have already, but I can’t honestly be selfish enough to think that you’ll stay just for me. What I can’t do, darling, is let you go without telling you how I feel.”

Her heart may be in her throat now because she can’t breathe. Not at all. Why the hell are his eyes so blue and earnest? Why is he so earnest?

She nods again, and he smiles this soft little smile that makes his eyes crinkle.

“I am rather fond of you, Emma Swan. I’m fond of the way that your smile shifts from small to absolutely beaming and the way that you laugh at your little comedy podcasts we listen to while we’re working. I’m fond of the way that you call me out on my shit and the way that you help me every day, even if you don’t know it. I’m fond of the smell of your perfume and the way I find long blonde strands of hair on all of my clothes even if I didn’t wear the shirt around you. I’m fond of the way you’ve weaved your way into every part of my life so seamlessly while I’ve had to carefully take a hammer to the bricks you built up around your heart.”

His hands trace up her neck, shivers running down her spine and bumps rising up over her skin. “I like you,” Killian continues, “and I don’t want you to go back to Boston thinking that you don’t have a life here. Everyone in this town would welcome you with open arms, but I’d be standing at the front waiting for you.”

Emma’s never been good with words, has never been an expert at expressing how she feels, but she has been good with actions. It’s why she wraps her arms around his neck, fingers tickling along the nape of his neck and into his hair, and kisses him.

She kisses him.

His lips are soft, softer than should even be possible, and his beard brushes against her skin much like it did when she kissed his cheek a few weeks ago while Killian quietly grunts into the kiss. They don’t move much, mouth pressed against mouth, but Emma finds herself getting lost in it. She imagined what it would be like kissing Killian Jones, something she would never admit to anyone else, but it was nothing like this. She didn’t feel it all over her, didn’t feel emotions swirling in her stomach and spreading over her skin, and she definitely didn’t think it would make her this happy.

She’s not sure when or how this happened, how exactly he hammered down the bricks around her heart, but she’s infinitely glad that he did.

Piece by piece and stone by stone.

“I don’t know if I can stay,” Emma whispers when she pulls back from the kiss, her forehead resting against his while her heart beats too fast. “I don’t – ”

“You don’t have to stay, darling. I simply ask that no matter your decision, you still allow me to be a part of your life, however you decide.”

Emma nods in affirmation before kissing him again, hungrily gliding her lips over his while heat curls between her thighs at the feel of Killian pressed up against her. The first kiss was soft, gentle, and while this one could still be described that way, there’s a fire simmering underneath her skin that comes to the surface with Killian’s hearty growl and the way that he starts backing her across the bar until her back is against the wall next to the staircase. Killian captures her gasp with his mouth, and she melts into him some more.

They should talk more. They really should, but they’ve talked for four months, and when Killian asks her if she’d like to go upstairs, she gladly says yes.

They shed their clothes the moment they’re in his apartment, tugging at shirts and pants as Killian finds the skin of her neck and leaves warm, open-mouthed kisses there while it takes everything in Emma to keep running her hands over his sides, feeling the warm skin and slightly marked up places. She’s already warm everywhere, gooseflesh rising, and her breathing is uneven as Killian keeps touching her.

It’s amazing.

And he’s beautiful. It’s all dark skin and lean muscle, someone who doesn’t work out much at the gym but is active, and he’s got dark patches of hair covering his chest and stomach, some of the black hiding the tattoos he has scrawled across his skin. She thinks most of the ones on his torso are there to cover up the scars from his accident, and Emma takes the time to trace her finger over the ink and over the scars, making sure to occasionally watch Killian’s face as she does so.

Of all of the times Killian has looked at her with admiration in his eyes, it’s never been quite like that.

She is so screwed.

When they reach the bed after Killian slamming his lips back into hers and whispering absolutely filthy things into her ear, his hand easily finds where she’s sensitive. He runs his fingers there, making her gasp and moan and whine that she needs more. Killian gladly gives her more.

There’s a push and pull, whispered words of want shared, and she gets lost in it.

He’s warm and thick when he buries himself inside of her, and his moan is one of the most delicious sounds she’s ever heard. His blue eyes are almost completely black now, but they’re no less beautiful. Everything about this is intimate, from the way that Killian kisses her to the controlled movement of his hips, sliding in and out in a slow rhythm that she knows is for her. A part of her wants more, wants faster and harder, but the other part of her is still catching up to the fact that this is real.

This is happening.

And she’s happy.

That might be the most shocking part of the entire thing. Emma is happy, which kind of snuck up on her without her really realizing it, and for the first time in a long time, if not ever, she can feel herself smiling during sex.

Is this what this is supposed to be like? Is this what it’s always supposed to have been like?

Killian smiles right back at her, letting his brows unfurrow from how they were folded in concentration, and then he’s dipping back down to move his teeth over her lips, a light graze that means almost everything to her all the while his hand dips down to where they are joined, the movement making her see all of those metaphorical stars.

Or, at least, something similar in blue orbs and a kind smile.

This is good. This is how things are supposed to be.

Happy.

“Killian?” she asks later. Sweat has dried on her skin, her hair curling around the temples, and she’s folded herself into Killian’s side while her legs are tucked between his calves. Her fingers can’t stop moving through his chest hair, untangling the patches, before moving down to trace over his tattoos and scars once more. She likes the way the red mixes in with the colors of ink.

“Yeah, Swan?”

She nearly giggles at the deep set of his voice, at how it’s harsh and soft all at once, kind of like him.

“I’m rather fond of you too. I thought you should know that.”

“The sex kind of clued me into that.”

“No, I meant. I – you…”

“I know exactly what you meant, love,” he promises as his head dips until his lips press into hers. “I was teasing you. You don’t have to tell me that.”

“I know, but I still want to. You deserve to hear the words as much as I do.”

-/-

She ends up selling the house to the couple from New York.

She puts away the money into her savings account, which was really nothing more than pennies and a few dust bunnies, and for the first time in her life, she has options.

Go back to Boston. Go anywhere.

Or stay in Storybrooke.

Stay in Storybrooke where the people are kind and know her by name, where the beach is nearby and often empty, where she could have a bit of quiet in her life, something that’s also been a novelty for someone who has never really had a quiet she liked. They’ve always been too haunting. This is comforting.

Stay in Storybrooke where there’s a man with blue eyes and the devil in his smile.

Only in the best way, of course, and she can’t keep her own smile away when thinking of him.

Of this life here.

So she stays. It’s what she feels in her heart is right, even if it means leaving her life in Boston behind. And she’s not staying for Killian. As great as he is and as happy as she is that she’s going to be around him, this is all for herself. After Emma tells Ruby her decision, Ruby is disappointed at first, but she promises to visit and still annoy the hell out of her. Emma doesn’t doubt it for a second.

Killian helps her find a place of her own after she tells him that she’s staying. The smile on his face has never been brighter, even when she rejects his offer to stay in the spare room behind the bar that he can renovate into a bedroom. It’s a kind offer, and she imagines she’ll be there often to spend time in Killian’s apartment, but she needs to do this on her own. It’s a new adventure, and she likes a challenge. Besides, if she and Killian keep flirting and making out like teenagers, she imagines one day she’ll be fine living with him.

Who has she become? Being so hopeful like that.

She likes it.

It’s a year and a half later when she and Killian sign the deed to a house on the shoreline, shutters falling off and porch rotting.

“So, Swan, you ready to fix up our new home?”

His fingers tangle into hers while her lips press into his jawline.

Our home.

She likes the sound of that.

“Yeah,” she smiles, “I am.”

-/-

-/-

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#what a plot twist you were #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #cs January joy #cs jj #captain swan January joy

[schism-au-blog]

Chapter Three

As Pearl and Rose headed into the base, they were greeted by Emerald. She grinned at them. “Back already? How are things looking?”

Rose smiled. “The war is going well. I received news that homeworld’s second kindergarten is having less-than-perfect results. Of course, there will still be more homeworld soldiers than normal. I hope there’s a good chance we can convince quite a few of them to join us.”

Emerald nodded. “I meant, how are you feeling? That must’ve been such a difficult thing to do.”

Rose’s face darkened. “Yes. It was a hard choice, and I’m still torn up about it.” She smiled. “But I have to stay upbeat for the purposes of everyone. If gems see me losing confidence, they may lose confidence in themselves, and you all are so wonderful.”

Emerald smiled. “You know, having a leader like you is the reason I’m so happy I joined.”

Rose smiled, more genuinely this time. “That means a lot to me. Thank you.”

Emerald laughed “It’s not tough to beat the diamonds.”

Rose laughed along with her, “I still can’t believe they cast aside so many gems for so abstract reasons. You, and gems like you, should be able to live in peace.”

Emerald nodded. “I mean, lucky for us Homeworld won’t accept fusions. Fusion is one of our biggest battle advantages.”

Rose smiled. “Garnet forming is what really convinced me to fight for the freedom of all gems, instead of just for the planet.”

“Just for the planet,” Emerald scoffed. “I can’t believe you were the only gem who was able to see the beauty of this place.”

Rose smiled. “It’s one thing to notice it, and something entirely different to fight for it. Now, I really must get to this-”

“Go, go do your important thing. I appreciate you taking the time to talk with me.”

Rose spotted Cherry, who had come inside since they saw her talking on the hill. She grinned and waved. “Cherry!” she exclaimed, rushing over.

“Rose, Pearl, how lovely to see you.” Cherry said. “You gave a magnificent speech,” she said, addressing Rose.

Rose smiled. “Thank you, I couldn’t have given it without you inspiring me!

“What was it you wanted to talk to me about?” Cherry asked.

“Ah, right,” Rose said. “We were wondering about your opinion of moving a few guard posts?”

“Yes, of course,” Cherry said. “Which ones were you going to move?”

“The pair guarding the central room. We were going to ask if we could move them to the outside of where Bismuth would be kept until the end of the war.”

Cherry nodded. “Every doorway would serve the same function. It would be no trouble. Do you want me to update that now?” she asked.

“I was planning on doing it, but if you’d be willing to-”

“Consider it done.” Cherry said.

“Thank you!” Rose exclaimed. “What else was I supposed to be doing?” she asked herself, as Cherry walked away.

“Find Garnet,” Pearl supplied.

“Of course! Thank you, Pearl, what on Earth would I ever do without you?”

Pearl smiled. “You’d probably be a lot less organized without me around.”

Rose grinned. “Most certainly. Let’s find Garnet.”

“Actually, maybe we should wait here for a moment. Garnet might know we’re going to try to find her, and look for us instead,” Pearl suggested.

“Good idea, Pearl! I would’ve never thought about that.”

Pearl smiled. She was so glad Rose let her have her own, unique ideas. It had been scary at first, but Rose had proven time and time again she wasn’t like the other diamonds. It was funny, but around Rose, Pearl felt free in a way she didn’t know was possible.

Pearl was pulled out of her thoughts when she saw Garnet approach. “Garnet!” she called.

Garnet smiled. “I thought you’d be looking for me.”

“How are things looking?” Rose asked nervously.

Garnet paused. “Let’s discuss this somewhere else.”

Pearl nodded, and Rose led them all into the room where Bismuth’s gem was bubbled. Rose felt a pang of guilt as she saw it floating above them.

Garnet closed the door behind them. “Right now, it appears a faction called the ‘metallic gems’ will likely break off of the crystal gems. Their goals will be like ours, but they will be in favor of shattering homeworld gems. Some metallic gems will want to shatter every homeworld gem they can. Some will want to shatter only elite gems. And others will only be willing to shatter Pink Diamond herself. In most timelines, their official leader is Bismuth herself. However, Snowflake Obsidian will run the faction while they try to get her back.”

“Is there any way to prevent that?” Rose asked tepidly.

“No, not without risking many worse paths,” Garnet told her.

“Oh,” Rose said. “I made the wrong choice, didn’t I?”

“No,” Garnet reassured her. “A better path was up largely to fate. This was the best course. There is no guarantee another path would be any better.”

Rose nodded. “So what do we do from here?”

“I hate to say it, but I think the best thing may be to watch and wait. Keeping Bismuth where she is should be fine, for now.” Garnet looked thoughtful. “In such times of crisis, it’s hard for me to recommend inaction. We need to find out which path we’re on before looking at which path we want to take.”

“Thank you for the advice, Garnet.”

Garnet nodded. “Remember, we can’t lay off homeworld in the meantime. We need to remind them we’re still here and fighting.”

Rose nodded. “I think we should try to interrupt their second kindergarten. We can try to tell the new Quartzes about the war. Let them know we’re here and ready to accept them even when homeworld won’t.”

Pearl nodded. “I think we should do a series of hit-and-runs, instead of a big battle. Hit the kindergarten, maybe send a squad to the reef, to the spire construction. Nothing too important, just enough to cost homeworld more time and resources.”

Garnet nodded. “That’s good. We should send teams of two or three.”

Rose looked towards Pearl. "Do you want to take the Reef with Rainbow and Yarhil?"

“We have to be careful with Yarhil if we’re going to the Reef,” Pearl said doubtfully. “It’s guarded by quite a few quartzes. Besides, there may be powerful gems visiting with personal rubies or quartzes. It won't be an easy assignment by any chance.”

“Yarhil has made it quite clear that she wants to fight for the planet. We can’t continue to send her on low-risk missions, just because she’s human. She’s trained with us for the past seven years, and is quite skilled. She’ll be able to get past much of the Reef’s security, since she doesn’t have a gem,” Garnet explained.

Rose nodded. “If we don’t believe in humanity, what are we fighting for? Let’s plan the rest of the teams and then inform everyone of the attack.

"Yes, of course," Pearl said. She began projecting holographic versions of various crystal gems. The three of them planned out the attacks.

They wrote the assignments in gem glyph and posted it on the assignment board. The attacks took place at different times. Garnet had to go inform her partner of their assignment and get ready to go almost immediately. Rose and Pearl had a few hours to spare.

"Rose, do you have enough energy-" Pearl started.

Rose nodded. "Rainbow should recharge it. I should be good until then."

Pearl looked down at the floor. She shouldn't ask Rose if they could fuse early, just for fun. It would be improper. Besides, Rainbow wasn't as recognizable or well-spoken as Rose. The very idea was absurd. Pearl smiled at the absurdity of a Diamond fusing with a pearl in the first place. And yet, she had, time and time again.

"Pearl," Rose said. "Let's fuse now." She grinned. "Would you want to?"

Pearl looked up at Rose in admiration. "It's like you read my mind."

Rose held out her hand, and they started the fusion technique Ruby and Sapphire taught them, modeled after the second time they fused into Garnet. It was a dance, a combination of styles, a way of easily syncing up with their partner. Pearl and Rose felt a glow come over them and they fused into Rainbow.

Rainbow smiled. She loved existing. She loved being able to feel Rose and Pearl's feelings. She continued Rose and Pearl's dance for a few steps. She sighed. She needed to find someone to take over weapons development for Bismuth. Thankfully, she'd only need to take over Rose's tasks, since Pearl didn't have to lead any training today.

Rainbow didn't look forward to the battle that evening. She was grateful to Rose and Pearl for letting her have some time to herself before the fight. She realized she'd probably have to unfuse at some point in the Reef, so Pearl could talk to the other pearls. Oh well, Rose and Pearl fused often enough that it wouldn't be long before she made her next appearance.

Now, who should she appoint to weapons? The appointee should be immune to fire, creative- Wait. Rainbow had a horrifying thought. They had built the forge to be used and operated by Bismuth, and only Bismuth. No other gem could operate it. They'd have to either scavange what they could from Homeworld or build a new forge. Well, one less thing to worry about for now, she supposed.

Rainbow walked out of the Crystal Gem's base. She knew exactly what she wanted to do. She ran to the closest human encampment, and danced with them for hours. She almost missed the attack, but she caught herself just in time.

"Hi!" Yarhil exclaimed. "I always forget how tall you are."

Rainbow smiled. "Want to ride on my back?" she asked.

"Can I?" Yarhil asked. "I wouldn't want to pull on your hair."

"It's quite alright," Rainbow explained. "You'll want to save your stamina for the fight anyhow, right?"

"I suppose so," said Yarhil, "But what about you, don't you need to conserve your stamina?"

"I'll be alright," Rainbow said. "Frankly, Rose and Pearl are both better fighters than I am, but I think Garnet wanted us to fuse for a reason."

Yarhil nodded. "I'm excited for my first real battle," she said.

Rainbow bent down to allow Yarhil to climb her. "I'm assuming you're scared, too? Remember I have Rose's shield. If you're in danger, I can protect you."

Yarhil climbed on Rainbow's shoulders, over the scabbard on her back, and asked, "What's your unique weapon again?"

"A parasol."

Yarhil raised her eyebrows.

"I can't see you, but I can feel you're not impressed. It's a lot more useful than it seems. However, yes, I do tend to use Rose's sword and shield in combat." Rainbow explained, standing up.

"That makes sense," Yarhil said. "How many battles have you been in?"

"I don't remember, honestly. I remember Pearl and Rose's, and they must've been in thousands, at this point. I, myself, have only been in about two hundred or so."

"'Only' two hundred," Yarhil said mockingly. "Why, I'm being accompanied by a rookie."

Rainbow laughed. "Are you ready? I can't promise I'll be incredibly smooth, I've only had someone ride me two or three times."

"Can you hold my legs?" Yarhil asked. She knew from experience, tumbling off a larger gem was quite unfortunate. She'd hate to make them turn back too soon.

"Of course," Rainbow said. She grabbed her legs and started to run towards the Reef."

They arrived at the Reef after about twenty minutes. Rainbow didn't mind making the run every once in a while, but she figured Rose would be glad once the warp was installed.

Yarhil looked up at the large, clam-shaped building. "Wow," she gasped. "It's beautiful."

The building was beautiful. Tall, blue walls, with gold detailing, curved into a sloped ceiling. The building was clearly designed for high-class gems, as no architect would waste such attention to detail on anyone lower than an agate.

"It's horrible," Rainbow said, curling her nose in disgust.

#writing #nanowrimo #I had a head start today bc I already had like 700 words in this chapter #but i'll take what i can get #It's also a weekend #My my this will be an undertaking and a half #It'll be fun though #join me as I slowly go crazy #su #steven universe #rose quartz #Pearl #rainbow quartz steven universe #rainbow quartz #fanfic #su fanfic #su fandom #su oc #Schism AU #schism au chap 3 #chapter 3 #i hope you enjoy #Garnet #Steven Universe spoilers #steven universe fanfic #hhh this wasn't visible on dark mode for two hours #oops

[nura-winderson]

so for reasons I happen to have a Demonomicon lying around in my house, so I figured why not check on our lovely Obey me! boys to see what folklore says about them?

*possible spoilers ahead*

Lucifer

The translation of the name is “Lightbringer”. The name was to be used to point out the planet Venus, the brightest object on the sky that fights the Sun’s light - explaining how this got transferred to the rebellion against God.

Christan lore refers to the this name as the synonim for Satan, and soon became a forbidden word to be even said out loud.

Hebrew lore remembers Lucifer as the prideful cherub of Eden, the garden of God, his body covered in gold, diamonds, ruby, emerald and several other gems. After God has named him to be the guardian of all living beings, he intended to meet with God as equals and therefore was precipitated first to Earth and later to Seol.

In the 19th century a luciferian religion has risen implying that Lucifer was the positive figure showing through the pages of the Old Testament and has marked Jahve or Adonai the evil entity, even claiming the Lucifer and his followers are the real creators of Earth.

Mammon

The demon of richness, greediness.

His name translates to “money, wealth”, originating from the middle-eastern word mammon, which can be even found in the Bible: “ No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and mammon (money).” (Matthew 6,24). In some translations of the script not everyone has recognized the meaning of the word mammon, which resulted in some translations as a reference to an evil pagan entity, and the demon was born.

In Johannes Weyer’s Pseudomonarchia deamonum he’s remembered as the british embassador of Hell

Leviathan

Lord of the Seas, in Johannes Weyer’s Pseudomonarchia deamonum he’s mentioned as “Admiral of Hell” or “Minister of the Sea”.

His symbol of the most infamous of them all, even used as the emblem of the Church of Satan: a goat- or devilskull in the middle of a downwards pointing pentragram. The pentagram is surrounded by 2 rings and 5 hebrew letters: L V I T N, the hebrew name for Leviathan.

In ancient jewish folklore and also in the Bible he doesn’t appear as a demon but rather as the world’s greeatest aquatic monster. When God created the seas, he decided let Leviathan take the throne underwater and command the seas and all living beings in it. He feeds of aquatic dragons, and when he rages of hunger or thirst he causes water ripplings that take 77 years to calm.

In some folklore he’s mentioned and the gigantic entity that can only be seen in the horizon of the seas, his body so large noone has ever seen it entirely, and has been discribed as swimming in a circle around the oceans biting on his own tail (similar to Jormungand in Norse mythology).

In the Babilonian Talmud Rab Safra has once spotted an enormous being swimming in the ocean, his two horns had engraved inscription that read: “This tiny being which only lengths 300 miles is on it’s way to serve as food for Leviathan”

Satan

Does not have his own title, however the words “Satan” does come up in the chapters of Lucifer and Samael.

Asmodeus

Hebrew legends claim him as the serial killer demon birthed by Lilith and Adam. According to the apocryphal book of Tobit, Asmodeus, smitten with love for Sarah, killed six or her successive husbands on their wedding nights. Following instructions given to him by the angel Raphael, Tobias overcame Asmodeus and married Sarah. Later in the Testament of Abraham he again appears as preventer of spouses’ lovelife.

In other legends he’s not presented as evil as previously, rather as the demon of Ursa Maior he helps in different sorceries. For example in the Testament of Solomon he helped in buiding the Jerusalem Temple along with other enslaved demons. It is also said that when God punished Solomon for his overwhelming arrogance, Asmodeus was the one to claim the throne during his punishment in disguise.

Beelzebub

Lord of the Flies, one of the most infamous and powerful rulers of Hell. The first mention of him in the Bible is when Jesus performes exorcism and is accused of working together with Beelzebub, later even that he himself is the Lord of Flies.

The origin of the name has several theories, including Baal-zebub, God of Ekron, who’s messengers are represented as flies. Another theory points out that the ancient jew cultur had the “zabulus” expession which has a distorted verios of the greek “diabolos” which may has been combined with the phoenician Baal (god, lord), hence creating a “lord of devils”.

In both the Middle-East and Egypt several sacred artifacts have been discovered which gives an idea that some kind of fly-based cult may have existed. Plinius has also left records behind indicating that roman and syrian temples have presented sacrifies for flies and the Lord of Flies here names Achor.

In the Middle Ages Beelzebub was presented as the fallen monarch of the serafs, who stands just below Lucifer in the hierarchy of Hell. In other scripts however he is portrayed as standing just above Lucifer.

In Collin de Plancy’s Dictionnaire Infernal he’s illustrated as a fly who’s wings are covered in skulls and bones.

Belphegor

He also originates back to the Middle-East, his name probably comes from Baal-Peor, Baal meaning God or Lord and Peor being a mountain, he’s the Lord of Peor Mountain, possibly a regional pagan god.

In the Middle Ages he’s referenced as the wealth-bringing demon, later on additionally he’s the helper of those seeking technological or scientifical discoveries. In the Pseudomonarchia daemonum he’s mentioned as the french ambassador of Hell.

Machiavelli’s Belphegor is most likely to be thanked for his fame. In this comedy he’s sent to the human world to find out if spousal loyalty truely exists. He interviewes numerous married men and women only to claim that the rumors are false.

John Wilson’s comedy Belphegor of the Marriage of the Devil as the name implies even matches him up.

Italian and french tv series have also been created with him being the lead character, the latter became a movie later on.

Diavolo

Does not have his own title.

Barbatos

The 8th demon of Lemegeton, always surrounded by four demon kings and three demon legions. If made a pact with, he can provide excessive information on science and may lead to treasures locked away by magic. Knows all the secrets of past, present and future and can communicate with animals.

Simeon

Does not have his own title in the book, however he does appear in the Eastern Ortodox Church, claiming he is one of the 72 translators of the greek Old Testament.

Luke

Does not have his own title, but he might be the angelic verios of Luke the Evangelist who did become Saint Luke and is patron saint of artists, physicians, bachelors, surgeons, students and butcher.

Solomon

Does not have his own title, but King Solomon is referenced several times as the sorcerer enslaver of demons. The Testament of Solomon is not considered canonical in either jewish or christian lore however it does contain numerous theological and magical themes ranging from Christianity and Judaism to Greek mythology and astrology that possibly hint at a Christian writer with a Greek background. He posseses a ring with the Seal of God (a pentagram pointing upwards) which he received from the archangel Michael and which gives him the power to command demons.

He eventually gains power over Beelzebub who is considered pince of demons, hence Solomon is able to enslave any and all demons.

notes

i think it’s terribly interesting how Levi is a lot closer to gluttony as Beel. I have this headcanon that perhaps originally Levi and Belphie were supposed to be twins (they do look awful similar and think about the character design! they are the only ones with a tail instead of wings), but for some reason (that perhaps we can later learn from the continous story) the characters were swapped.

I also believe that Solomon will have a much bigger part of the story as he has right now.

#obey me #obey me! #obey me masters #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #i hate doing hastags #lucifer #mammon #levi #satan #asmo #beel #belphie

[homogrimoire]

Ego Ollor od Esiasch Coronzon

Fair Game Week 2020: Day 7 - AU / Free Day (Priest/Demon AU)

Read it on AO3 here.

Qrow Branwen, priest of a small chapel in the middle of nowhere, was content with his life as it was. Bad luck followed him all his life, as he was born cursed by an ancient magic that not even Oz could undo. The only things he could say were good in his life were his nieces, but even then, he felt that he had to be careful. He didn’t want them to be victims of his existence. They would visit every once and a while, which was perfect in his opinion. They would stay long enough to have fun together, but not long enough to where anything seriously bad could happen. He supposes that getting the opportunity to stay at the chapel was also nice. He was given the opportunity to stay there by an old friend, headmaster of a prestigious academy. Needless to say, he agreed without a second thought. Read to some people from a book and answer their questions two days out of the week? Easy. Be away from people so he couldn’t harm anyone? Help the headmaster with some occult mystery now and then so he could finally feel useful? It was practically a dream come true.

As the years went by, he grew closer to the few people that would show up, especially a young farmhand named Oscar. He reminded him of his nieces. He grew to understand the hope the gods could give and inspire, even if he himself believed them to be cruel and uncaring. His nieces visited less frequently, but called much more often, which he was alright with. Some of his hair began to grey, which he quickly grew to like. It made him look more mature. His experiments, while they were almost always met with some complication, always helped Oz with something. He was as content as he could be, save for one minor thing.

Qrow was lonely. Sure, people came to the chapel on a regular basis, but it was hardly personal, save Oscar. He always made sure to save him some extra sweets, even if he was a teenager now. Ruby and Yang called nearly every other day, bar when they were on a mission, but made sure to visit their favorite uncle at least once a month. Tai called every now and then and would also sometimes visit. However, Qrow realized just how lonely he was when his sister showed up out of the blue. Instead of immediately throwing blessed water at her and muttering a prayer from the book, he actually considered inviting her in. He settled for chatting outside, so that there could at least be witnesses. It went better than expected, but that wasn’t saying too much.

Oz, of course, called frequently, chatting about the magical experiments or sharing the latest gossip with each other. One call proved to be pivotal in Qrow’s life. The day was already eventful. Oscar confessed that he had a crush on one of the other farmhands, hired from a nearby city, he heard, which wasn’t a sin in any book, but Qrow didn’t really care too much about that. As an honorary uncle and father figure, he was mostly just curious about the crush and proud that Oscar was growing up. … Even if it meant Oscar would leave. It was making Qrow feel lonely again. The last time he had a crush, the kid wasn’t even born. Needless to say, he was feeling a bit down when Ozpin called. The moment Qrow answered the call, he knew something big happened, but by his tone, it wasn’t anything bad.

“So, Qrow, I believe that I may have found something that may be of interest to you.” Oz began.

“Mhmm.” Qrow responded, slouched in a chair.

“I’ve found what I believe to be the instructions for a ritual that may help your bad luck problem.” Qrow couldn’t see it, but he knew Oz was smiling.

“You’ve got my attention.” He said, quickly sitting up. “Tell me more about it.”

“From what I have learned, it may have some relation to the brother gods. Its incantations are certainly very old as well. It’s all a straight forward. It just has some… unique ingredients. I’ve procured some of the rarer ones for you, They should be there in a week’s time. Until then, I’ll leave you to find the more common ingredients. I’ll send you the instructions and list of ingredients right now.”

“Wow, Oz, I─ I don't know what to say.” Qrow was dumbfounded. To believe that his curse could be cured...

“You don’t need to say anything. You’ve done a lot more for me than I’ve done for you. But if you want to thank me, do it when the ritual is a success. You know how fickle magic can be.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”Qrow knew that he shouldn’t get his hopes up. Who knew if some ancient ritual would hold up in the modern era. Steps could have been lost as time passed, the magic that powers it may not even exist any more, hell, it could even just end up making things worse. But, Qrow trusted Oz, and there was still the off chance that things did go as expected. At the very least, he could debunk the ritual and let Oz know.

“Although, I should tell you… no. Just, be careful with this one.”

“Alright, I will.” Qrow said suspiciously. In all fairness, Oz always was mysterious.

“Good night Qrow.”

“Good night Oz.” Once the call ended, Qrow received the information, as promised. After reading through it, he could see that it was simple. It just required a lot. There were a few ingredients he had never heard of, but imagined that those would be the things Oz sent him. A few strands of hair from a calico cat were easy to get, only having to deal with a sneezing fit, as well as a horseshoe. He just paid a visit to Oscar and gathered a few hairs from a random calico cat there and bought a horseshoe. Oscar might have tripped face first onto his crush while Qrow was there, but he didn’t feel too bad once he saw them holding hands as he left. All that was left was a shamrock and a fishing pole made by the one invoking the ritual. The shamrock, while it would probably take a day of searching in a clover field to find, made sense with the ritual’s theme. The fishing pole made no sense. If anything, it made him doubt the ritual’s authenticity a little. But, regardless, he made a cheap one out of a stick and some string with a toy lure. It was sad, but it would do.

By the time Qrow had everything he needed, it was still four days until the stuff Ozpin sent would arrive. Qrow could have continued memorizing the incantation, but he had already been doing that. So, he decided to make a more respectable fishing pole. He didn’t take woodworking in school for nothing, even though he would have to do most of the work by hand. In the end, he just looked up how to make a bamboo fishing pole online. It was a nice change of pace from his daily routine. There was still another day until the supplies arrived by the time Qrow found the rod satisfactory. He decided to spend the day carving out a bird from a piece of wood to use as a bobber. He decided on a kingfisher, for their fishing prowess. Once he finished, he decided to go to bed. He had a big day ahead of him.

The supplies he needed arrived late in the afternoon. The mailman almost tripped while holding all the supplies, but Qrow caught him just in time. He was really hoping the ritual would work. Ozpin sent him some jars of a black goop. Qrow didn’t know what it was, but he wasn’t going to question it. Along with the goop, came an odd looking rug, a faded green, that was easily centuries years old, and perhaps even millennia if he were being generous. With no time to waste, he got to work. First, he laid down the rug that he would make the sigil on. Next, using the black goop, he carefully and slowly drew out the sigil, intricate with its many lines. At the tips of the center triangle, he placed the four-leaf clover, the horseshoe, and the strands of calico cat hair. In the center where an ominous vertical eye rested, he placed the fishing pole. With that done, he closed his eyes and clasped his hands together, reminiscent of a prayer. He began to utter the incantation, grateful that Oz knew the pronunciations.

Torzu od adrpan, [n] ascleh k iabes

Cruscanse [xitha] siatris

Amma bab argedco ils

Bien k hoxmarch ivmd ils

Pir ooaona ors

Ollor teloch olpirt dorpha

Ol argedco ego bab

Qrow opened his eyes to see that the black goop had been swirling upwards, the ancient rug and the items he gathered caught in the vortex, until it suddenly paused mid-air, and then fell onto the floor with an anti-climatic splat. He looked at his arms to see if he was any different. He didn’t feel any different. For a moment, he thought that the ritual failed, resulting in nothing. It evidently resulted in something, as a hand shot out of the puddle. Qrow wasn’t a believer, but he grabbed a nearby holy book. It would be better than nothing. It pulled itself up and out of the puddle, the goop dripping off the figure as it emerged. Soon, he could make out slicked back brown hair with graying sides, and deathly pale skin marked with red and black veins. He was clad in a green vest similar to the ancient rug and light colored pants. He opened his eyes to reveal that the sclera were pure black, and his pupils were an unnatural and piercing red. He grinned, showing sharp canines, which was very hot, and very scary.

“So,” it spoke, “you’re the one who summoned me?” Qrow nodded his head, unable to drawl out any words. Then, it looked him up and down. “What’s your name, handsome?” Did he just… flirt, with me?

“Qrow. Qrow Branwen.” was all he could muster out.

“Hm. Handsome name for a handsome guy. I suppose you're wondering what my name is then?” Qrow didn't respond, so the entity continued. “Well, like any respectable demon, I go by many names, but you can call me yours. ” The demon winked at him. He really is flirting with me. He didn’t know how to respond to a demon flirting with him, and a rather hot one at that. “Still shocked, I see. You weren’t exactly expecting me, were you?” Qrow noticed that he held the fishing pole he made slung across a shoulder, and wore a shamrock pin.

“Nope.”

“Well, I hate to intrude, but I think it’s best that talk in the morning, you know, so you can sleep on all this. Oh, and it looks like you only got one bed. Lucky me.” Yeah, lucky. That snapped Qrow out of his stupor.

“Hold on, I am not falling asleep when some random demon is here!” Even if those arms are very tempting. He noticed that one arm had a red armband wrapped around it.

“Like what you see?” the demon teased, flexing his arms. Qrow realized that he had been staring, and began to blush.

“I’m calling Oz.”

“Her ex-husband?” the demon asked.

“Who’s what?” Ozpin picked up the call.

“So, how did it go?” he asked calmly as he took a sip of his drink.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were making me summon a demon?!” Qrow exclaimed.

“The dollar store knock-off goddess says fuck you, and that she wants the kids.” the demon interjected

“Tell her I said to pay the child support.”

“Will do.” the demon saluted. Ozpin turned his attention back to Qrow.

“He’s an alright demon. You can trust him.”

“That doesn’t answer the Question! Oz!”

“Well, if everything went as planned, you should have been able to make a deal with him by offering the fishing rod.”

“And a pretty nice one at that. I like the little kingfisher.” the demon interrupted, holding up the rod for all to admire.

“But evidently, something went wrong.”

“Yeah, you used female calico cat hair. You should have used male calico cat hair.” he corrected. “Lucky for me, it looks like I’m stuck in a pretty nice place,” he said as he looked around the room, “with an even prettier person.” The demon winked at Qrow, again.

“Stuck here? What do you mean stuck here ?” Qrow asked, flustered.

“Well, since the ritual went awry, we’ll have to make another portal to send me back.”

“And that involves going back to hell to get some of that sludge. Trips to hell aren’t easy, you know.” Well shit.

“You went to hell? For me?” Qrow asked. He was touched.

“Yes, but think nothing of it. I owe you a lot.” Oz took another sip “Besides, you’re stuck with a demon now.” Qrow looked behind him to find The demon lying down on his bed, patting the empty space beside him as if offering it to him. Qrow turned away to hide a light blush. “Well, have fun with your new roommate, good night.”

“Wait! Ozpin you little─” with a click, the line was cut. Qrow groaned. He fell back into a chair to stare up at the ceiling, tired and stressed. He looked at the demon, who was just smiling at him. “So, what should I actually call you.”

“Hmm,” the demon thought for a moment, “Clover.” he said as he flicked the shamrock on his vest with his thumb.

“Alright then, Clover . What kind of demon are you anyways?” Qrow was still a little bit suspicious, but he didn’t sense any malicious intent, so there was that.

“Well, let’s just say I have the devil’s own luck.” he grinned. Despite the smile seeming slightly sinister, Qrow felt a bit of hope.

“So what you’re saying is, that you're a demon who brings good luck?”

“Good luck for a fee, and I’d say you’ve paid yours rather nicely.” He pulled the rod out of nowhere to admire it. “I really do like the kingfisher you’ve made. It must have taken a lot of time, and a lot of skill to make. I think this one’s my new favorite.” With a quick movement of his hand, it disappeared back into nothing. “I consider myself pretty lucky, but I have a feeling I’m going to get even more lucky with you here.”

“Pfft.” Qrow scoffed. “You haven’t dealt with someone like me.”

“And why’s that?” Clover sat up, genuinely interested in Qrow’s response.

“I… was born cursed with bad luck. It affects me and everyone around me.” This wasn’t information he gave so freely, but, for some reason, he felt that the demon could understand him, so he told him.

“I see.” The demon appeared to be thinking hard. “When I was human, I was born blessed with good luck, if you can call it blessed. I’m not gonna deny it, it had its benefits. But, as I grew older the more and more people thought that all I was, was my good luck. Everyone wanted to be around me for my good luck, and never for me. You get it, don’t you.” Qrow notic ed that there was something in his eyes: sadness, loneliness, a plea for someone to understand.

“I do.” he told him.

“I thought you would.” Clover smiled and laid back down, patting the empty spot beside him once more. Qrow gave into temptation, and laid next to the hunk of a demon in the small bed. He could have forced the demon onto the floor, but he didn’t want to be rude, and he certainly wasn’t going to sleep on the floor himself. Qrow had the best night of sleep he ever had in a long time, cuddled up in those muscular arms. Yeah, things will be fine. he though as he drifted to sleep.

#Fair Game #fairgameweek2020 #clover ebi #qrow branwen

[doof-doofblog]

"You Have Lost Everything!"

Monday 2nd November 2020

Hello again everyone! Hope you're all having a good week, regardless of the new lockdown! It's been a bit of manic week for me as I don't know whether I'm coming or going with my own personal issues, but thankfully everything seems to be a bit more clearer now. Anyhow, let's jump right into Monday's episode. The previous episode ended on such a big cliff-hanger, I'm looking forward to seeing what this episode has in store.

From what I can tell, the episode starts the day after the events of the poker game. Martin and Ruby are discussing what happened. Does Martin perhaps feel guilty? He probably shouldn't have left his friend while he was so vulnerable and weak. But I love the fact that something doesn't fit right with Martin, he thinks that Suki must've known about Kush's gambling problem, otherwise she never would've toyed with him the way she did. Ruby plays dumb and and mentions that Suki only got lucky and that Kush should've been more careful. To me, it's like they're on two different sides, Ruby is wanting to ruin the Slaters, while Martin is just wanting peace, but something tells me Martin is going to flip when he finds out his wife is behind it, possibly causing his children to be homeless.

Meanwhile, at the Slaters - everyone appears to be gathering their things together in attempt to come up with some money. They're trying to sell their belongings to be able to afford a deposit for another place to live. Kush tries to console them telling them he's going to try and sort it. But Kat, Stacey and Jean don't have much hope. Kat declares that Kush is a gambling addict, to which he is still in denial. I do fear for the Slaters, I'd hate to see them down on their luck. Kush promises to try and fix his terrible mistake as Kat receives a phone call about another cleaning job, it may be rubbish but it seems they have no choice. They need all the money they can get right now.

At Jack's, Denise has come round to collect the rest of her things only to discover that Jack has already gathered her things in a box for her. They have a little quick discussion and Jack applauds Denise for taking Raymond in and states that he's lucky to have her. Even though they have sadly decided to go their separate ways, you can see they still care deeply for each other. Jack asks whether Phil has kept or word and whether she has heard from Ellie, Denise confirms that Ellie has simply disappeared. Phil has kept to his word for the time being so it would seem, but how long will it be until that changes?! Suddenly, Isaac calls Denise - we can heard crying in the back ground and Isaac is calling for Denise for help as Raymond is crying. It's going to take a long time for young Raymond to settle, but hopefully in time he'll start to enjoy his new family home.

On the Square, Honey is getting herself ready to meet with the police officer who is supporting her after her horrific ordeal. Jay approaches her and she asks whether they'll be to meet in the park later on, Honey doesn't feel quite ready to tell Billy what has happened, she certainly doesn't want the children finding out. As Jay and Honey agree to meet each other later on, Honey leaves to go and see the police officer, only as she leaves Billy approaches Jay and starts asking questions on who Honey is seeing. He states the fact that by the look of what the lady is wearing, it could either be an estate agent or police. He asks Jay what's going on but Jay is reluctant to say anything. But as Billy turns to ask Honey herself, Jay stops him in his tracks and instructs him to get inside, how is he going to find the words to explain what's happened to Honey?!

In the Cafe, Kheerat has joined his Mum, she appears to be gloating after her big win the previous night. As Kush walks in, he sheepishly approaches the Panesar's and asks whether they can have a quick word. Suki, at first, doesn't seem interested. She states that a bet is a bet, but Kush tries to plead to her and explains if it was just him, he would've moved out by the weekend, but there are children involved here, she needs to take them into consideration also. She agrees to hear him out and makes a slight dig if he's ready for another poker game, even though he's got nothing left to gamble. Kush begs her to give him a few more days just to scrape some money together, but Suki points out he can barely afford to pay the current month's rent. She even think's she's doing him a favour - Erm, how?! - Kush sees that his pleas are going on deaf ears, as he walks out slowly, Kheerat compliments his Mother on how clever she is. He makes an interesting statement, she has never won a poker game in her life and somehow she's managed to swindle Kush into losing their house. Can Kheerat smell a rat? I really don't think it's going to be long until Kheerat stands up to his Mum. He appears to be the only decent one out of the family and you can see he doesn't agree to the decisions his Mum has made - Jags, the Slaters, who is going to be her next victim and what is it going to take for him to finally break?!

Haha! Sorry but I have to mention Rainie and Stuart again, out of all of this doom and gloom happening with multiple families at the minute, it's just nice to see Rainie and Stuart enjoying married life. It's just that little bit of comedy that we need. Rainie's emotions are all over the place, considering she's pregnant. I just loved her outburst about the make-up artist using her lippy on a corpse. Of course, Stuart is trying his absolute best to support his wife, but it looks like she's driving him round the bend with her mood swings. I personally think they make a brilliant couple, they bounce off each other really well. What do you guys think? What is you opinion of Stuart and Rainie being together?

At the park, Honey is waiting patiently for Jay, she looks up and notices Jay is approaching with Billy following along behind. She greets him politely, making very little small talk as it's clear she doesn't want him knowing anything. But as Billy begins to speak and apologises to her, she realises that Jay has told him everything. When Billy asks what the police have said, she confirms that Paul had been arrested and she's waiting on hearing the results to confirm whether she has been sexually assaulted or not. She also informed them that the police had found the video on his phone of her lying in the alleyway. Billy is horrified to learn what Paul has done, he can't seem to keep his rage to himself and announces he's going to kill him, but Honey stops him in his tracks and claims that his reaction is the reason why she didn't want him knowing, because she knew he'd respond in that way. She points to Jay and mentions the fact that Jay is half his age and has been brilliant towards her, shown her every bit of support he can. As Billy walks away, Jay confides in Honey that he was trying to the right thing, he felt if he told Billy, it would give Honey that extra bit of support, but Honey explains that Billy does mean well, but he will never change his ways. Is anyone else sensing there could be a bit of romance on the cards for Jay and Honey? They're spending a lot of time together recently, I mean, of course Jay is trying to be there for Honey during her horrific ordeal, but could something grow between the pair and could they potentially end up falling for one another?!

Ooooh the next scene grabbed my attention straight away. It seems really interesting. Jean is on the Square, announcing to her neighbours what has happen to her family in recent events. Informing them that Suki is making them homeless, throwing them out on the street within a week. It looks as if she either pleading for help or she's trying to get the community on her side. She tries to explain to her friends and neighbours that the Panesar's are all out to get them, But before she can make anymore statements, Suki stops her in the path. Informing everyone that it was Kush who betted their house away, to which Jean responds (the truth) the she played him! Ooooo I do hope it'll all come out, everyone will see how dirty Suki is! Kheerat will disown his Mother, Martin will blame Ruby for causing his children to go homeless. Ooooh it's all going to kick off I can see it coming!! It may take a bit of time for it to come to light, and honestly I can't wait to see the reaction of people when it does! Meanwhile, as Jean is out on the Square with her neighbours, Martin decides to visit Kush at home. At first, Kush doesn't want to hear what he's got to say, as he's had an earful from everyone else. But Martin is just being the best friend he can be and has simply just come round to see how he was doing. Something tells me that he kind of blames himself as he was the one who introduced Kush to poker, but Kush reassures him that he is not to blame. Kush explains that before poker he used the gyms to get away and get rid of all the anger and kind of give himself some breathing space, some head space, but since the lockdown and the gyms being closed, he's felt lost and it turns out her turned to poker to relive that feeling of getting away from everything. Kush explains to his friend that he will sort things out, he considers even giving his Mum a call, but Martin says that he will be able to help him, but the first thing Kush needs to do is to admit that he's an addict, as that would be the first step to take control of the situation.

Out on the Square, Jack has delivered Denise's things to her, as she thanks him for dropping it off, Jack informs her that he's done a bit of research on Ellie during recent events and he tells her that 4 of her properties were raided, and it just so happens that Phil managed to get Raymond away on the same day. Jack seems think there is a coincidence, but Denise doesn't want to know anymore. As far as she's concerned, her son is home where his belongs and he's safe. It's understandable why Jack is trying to look out for her, I get that he's concerned about Phil, but Phil does still have a right to see his son, he is Raymond's Dad after all and I don't believe he would ever put Raymond in danger. Phil may have a bit of a reputation as being a hard man, but the one thing he would never let come to harm is his family, and I think that should be something that both Denise and Jack need to remember.

Am I right in thinking that in the next scene, Honey confirms to Jay that there was no sign of any sexual assault?! Maybe Jay chased Paul off before he could go through with his vile attack, which means Jay pretty much saved Honey. Honey discusses how Billy must be in the pub right now, downing his third pint in a way of dealing with the news he's been given. Jay informs her not to worry about Billy, she needs to focus on herself and try and get better. He politely says goodbye to her before leaving for work, BUT just around the corner, we see a very shaky hand holding a brick. Oh no, Billy! He's hiding behind a wall as he watches Paul leave his house - so it looks as if he's been let out on bail - Billy watches as he walks away and slowly begins to follow him with the brick in the hand, but before he can do any damage, Jay rushes to stop him. Jay tells him this is not the way to be helping Honey. I do feel sorry for Billy during this conversation, for him, it's like the past is repeating itself. He explains to Jay that the same thing happened to Little Mo after they got married, fans will remember that during one particular episode, Little Mo was left alone in the Queen Vic cleaning up and someone broke in and sexually assaulted her, all that could be heard were screams coming from the hall. He admits to Jay that he couldn't support Little Mo through her ordeal and he fears he won't be able to do the same for Honey, so instead he decides he needs to act as the man he should be. But Jay reassures him that beating the guy up won't make up for what happened to Little Mo, and it won't make up what's happened to Honey. It seems that Jay's words hit home and Billy eventually drops the brick.

Back with the comedy duo, Stuart and Rainie. After Rainie lashing out on their beautician, Stuart has been left to do the make-up for the deceased. I think it's brilliant how he walks in covered in make-up, and even stating that the body he was working on was smiling at him every time he walked around the room, which clearly made him feel uneasy. As they're discussing advertising for a beautician, Tiffany is informing Keegan (two characters we haven't seen for a long time!) that she's trying to find a job to save up to pay for Keegan owning his own sandwich stall on the market. It looks as if Rainie overhears their conversation and asks Tiffany whether she does make-up, it's then that Tiffany confirms she's almost a qualified beautician. Something tells me that Rainie is going to offer the job to Tiffany, BUT will Tiffany accept? For some reason, I can't see Tiffany working in an undertakers, but who knows? If she's desperate for the money, she might grab the opportunity with both hands! Meanwhile, Martin finds Ruby in Walford East and confides in her that he feels he's to blame for Kush's gambling addiction. He informs her that Kush is convinced that someone set him up, to which Ruby once again, plays dumb. She tries to console her husband and tells him that he's trying to be the good friend, which Kush really deserves right now. Oh and isn't it a coincidence that while they're having this conversation, Suki just happens to be walking around the restaurant. Martin clocks to her presence and as she walks past him, he makes the very snide remark that if she actually did play him, then she is just disgusting! It looks as if those words hit Ruby hard, is she seeing that this is also hurting her husband as much as it is hurting the Slater family?! Could she be feeling some form of guilt? Will it end up eating her up and will she come clean to her husband?!

At the Panesar's office, Stacey is cleaning out her desk and belongings. As she mentions to Kheerat that she'll leaving as she'll probably have no where to live in the next couple of days, she disrespects his Mum right in front of him. But Stacey can see right through Kheerat, she knows he doesn't approve of his Mum's actions and she tells him to tell that he doesn't agree. Suddenly Suki walks through the door and Stacey makes herself scarce. Kheerat tries to persuade his Mum to let the Slater's stay, he noticed that the shop was quiet all afternoon. If her actions to what she's done to the Slater's start to make an affect on the community, no one will want nothing from them and they will struggle with their businesses. Kheerat tells her that if all goes to pot she'll have to start working for him. Suki then possibly realises that her son has a point and changes her mind and announces that the Slaters can stay, under one condition, their rent goes up! So once again, they're playing to her tune again! How many times has she put the rent up for the Slater's alone? Two, three times? She assures her son that she always gets what she wants, one way or another! Ooooo I do hope that one day Suki will get her comeuppance, whether it be from the Square or from her own children.

Back at the club, Jack looks like he's called a meeting with Callum. Callum asks whether he wants information on Phil then he really isn't interested. But something doesn't sit right with Jack, he brings up the topic about Ellie's properties being raided and stating the fact it was the day that Phil got Raymond back. Callum comes up with the excuse that he heard something being mentioned in a night club and tries to explain that he no idea that the property was Ellie's! I kind of feel like Callum is keeping his word to the Mitchell's. Now he's been made one of the family, he can't turn his back on them because it would mean turning his back on Ben also. Jack informs Callum that even though Denise is struggling with Raymond, she is trying her absolute best to support the young boy. He warns him that if he does anything to ruin it for her, then there will be hell to pay!

The last scene of this episode, Kush is seen sat alone in the house, we see him react as he heard the front door opening and closing. It looks as if he's hoping it'll be Kat, but Stacey appears and informs him that she's gone out for a drink with some unknown security guard. Kush looks absolutely devastated and distraught. It's becoming clear to him that he has made things incredibly worse, not just for his family but for his relationship with Kat also. As Stacey yells at him, he puts his hands to his ears, trying to block it all out until the issue becomes louder and louder and he yells at the top of his voice "I'm an addict!" - He finally admits it, even though the truth is most likely ripping him apart inside. Stacey only wishes he could've admitted it earlier, she tells him that Alfie lied to Kat repeatedly and he was supposed to be the good one. But now he's not just lost the house, he has lost everything!

How in the world is Kush going to be able to fix things? How is he going to be able to make it up to Kat and the rest of the family? I just want to thank you guys for reading, I'll be back very soon with another post! Enjoy the rest of your day folks! Please feel free to message me on your thoughts and opinions on what's currently happening in the soap, I'd love to hear from you! Love you all xXx

#eastenders #kushkazemi #staceyslater #jeanslater #katslater #martinfowler #rubyallen #suki panesar #kheerat panesar #honeymitchell #jaybrown #billymitchell #denisefox #jackbranning #stuarthighway #rainiecross #callumhighway #tiffanybutcher #keeganbaker

[danurso]

A dragon in love if you so please.

(I was working on a sum up for jaune alter but then i remembered that i had the sum up for this story already done on discord, which saved me a lot of time and efford, here we go)

@ice-covered-water you also asked for it so come and take a look.

Title: A dragon in love

Pairing: Jaune x Yang (Dragonslayer)

Status: WIP

Chapters Wrote: 1

Total words so far: 2,500

Story:

In the world of remnant dragons are a real thing, they are very rare, most people never saw one in real life, some even doubt these creatures actually exist. But the reason you see so few dragons normally is because they're usually disguised as humans.

Yang one day comes in her dorm with a massive grin and ten times more brighter than usual, before any of her friends and her sister can ask what got her so happy she leaps in the air and a pair of golden scaled wings sprout from her back along with a golden tail and a pair of horns.

Weiss and blake rolls their eyes and ignore while yang flies around the small room before landing on her bed. When ruby questions about why she's so happy yang goes back to her usual persona and tells her that it's nothing.

Ruby knows far too well that "nothing" wouldn't trigger her transformation like that, it was only a partial transformation but it was a transformation nonetheless, raven always teaches her how to keep in control of her emotions so she wouldn't turn into full dragon mode if someone pissed her off, so to trigger her transformation it must've been something big.

She insists in questioning about what happened but she keeps saying that it was nothing in the most casual tone possible, ruby even points out that her tail was wagging like one of a puppy but she just reverted back to normal and acted like nothing happened.

After ruby keeps questioning about it for some time blake intervains and says "jaune asked you on a date didn't he?" She said that without even taking her eyes off her book, yang's face lit up red instantly, she hands on her bed but before she can ask how blake knew it she just points to her cat ears and remembers her that her earing is way better than from normal peoples.

Weiss is the next one to question asking if she was really going out with him, and after a nod from yang she asks if it would be okay to date someone from a family of dragon hunters.

(The arc family hunts dragons since the beginning of the times and they would stop only when the dragons were extinct or they were.)

Yang gives them a casual reminder that jaune doesn't know about her dragon heritage so there is no problem in going out with him.

Weiss then asks how she is going to hide that from him after they started dating, yang gets embarrassed again and says that they were just going out on a date and that there were no romantic feelings involved.

Her reply was received by three very sceptic gazes.

They all knew yang had a crush on jaune at this point, they were already on the second year of beacon and she's developing something from him ever since the vytal tournament.

Jaune wasn't any better, they didn't knew what happened between them at the vytal festival but both of them seemed to start to act a bit different around each other after it.

Ruby was probably the most surprised with the development, raven always teached her that humans in their vast majority can't be trusted, so she always avoided getting emotionally involved with other peoples, she acted like a party girl, went out with her friends, had fun but never allowed herself to get very attached to her friends, both because of raven's teachings and because of her fear of being rejected because of what she is

Beacon was probably the first place she got really attached to her friends, blake weiss and team JNPR were very close friends she didn't expected to make when she came here, but it happened so who is she to say anything about it, weiss and blake knew about her and ruby's secret and still accepted them independent of what they were. (After a lot of terrified screams of course)

For yang be willing to go out on a *date* with jaune, he must mean a lot to her, but then weiss decided to remind her about the complications.

She asked what if that date turned out to be more than just two friends hanging out, what if they become more than just friends, she can't keep that secret from him forever, and then she starts to question what she thinks is going to happen when HE eventually finds out, or what is he going to do when he finds out.

Yang knows he would never do anything against her, but they remind her, what about his family? What if he tells them about her and they come after her?

Yang still doesn't think he would do that, and before weiss or blake can keep on their speech ruby interveniens, she says that she agree with yang, she doesn't think jaune could ever put yang on harms way on purpose, but even if he and his family aren't a problem, what about their family? Both qrow and raven absolutely hate the arcs. Dragons don't really have much bonds and when one of their species dies they don't care that much, but with qrow and raven is different.

There are three ranks of dragons in remnant:

Betas, the more common ones.

Alphas, way more powerful than beats and very rare as well.

Omega, its the dragon king, the most powerful and imposing of all dragons.

Raven and qrow were raised and trained by the omega ever since they had nine until the day they left for beacon, he was like a surrogate father for them, he and his wife were the only family they ever had, but that was until the arcs killed both the omega and his six year old son, raven and qrow could never forgive something like that but the omega's wife made them promise not to after the arcs, she was just as angry as them, but going after all the arc family would not only result on their death but also in a war between humans and dragons.

Because of that they never went after the arcs, but if they found out that there is an arc on beacon, even more that he is dating yang, things would get bad very fast.

Ruby knew how much her sister liked jaune, ans she knew jaune lover her too, but this date would just end up hurting both of them, and so she asked yang to cancel the date before it was too late, before she regretted it.

Yang, very reluctantly, accepts to cancel the date, and goes after jaune, she's a nervous wreck, she has no idea on how she's going to cancel the date, and before her rushed mind can formulate anything she bumps on him on the corridor.

Jaune just apologizes with his usual goofy smile.

The only thing yang could think was: "how the hell am i going to cancel that date if he keeps smiling like that!?"

He tells her that his mind is a but busy planning everything for later, yang tries to gather strength to speak, but when she finally does gather strength he cuts her, he apologizes for taking so long to ask her out on a date, after all these last few months that they trained, studied or hanged out together, and even after what happened during the vytal festival, he was still nervous, he never really went on a date before, he never thought he was what you would call an example of "dating material" never once a girl got interested in him, the few dates that he got the girl never showed up and that hit him really hard, but if yang gave him a chance he would do his best to try and impress her.

And now yang has no idea how to dump him anymore. How the hell is she supposed to cancel their date after what he just said!?

Jaune then asked if she wanted to tell him something, and after a few moments of pure brainstorm she asked if they were to a fancy place? Cause she didn't really like fancy places, jaune just told her not to worry that he was going to take her to an nice place he knew, nothing too fancy that she might not like.

Yang after that leaved to her room and when her teammates asked she said she canceled the date, she told them she just needed to be alone for awhile and they agreed to give her some time. Weiss dragged ruby to the library to study while blake followed just so she could finish reading her book.

Once she was sure they were far enough so blake's ears would hear her, she hopped from her bunk and went to her drawer and started to pick up clothes to the date, she had a plan in mind, since she couldn't cancel the date, she would act like she didn't like it and by the end of it, she would just tell that it was nice but it wouldn't work out.

This way she wouldn't need to dump him but would still be able to avoid anything to happen between them.

After choosing which clothes she would wear she puts them in a bag and hides it on her locker, she then goes back to her dorm and acts gloomy for some time after her friends got back.

When the time to her date comes she gets up and starts to head out, when they question he she says that coco saw her being gloomy earlier about her date and invited her for a movie session she and velvet were going to make, they would stay up all night watching movies, so they shouldn't wait for her.

Swallowing her lie, she leaves and gets to the locker room, she changes her clothes and gets on the docks to meet jaune who was already waiting for her.

They were both lost for a moment staring at each other (i still dk what clothes they're going to be wearing) but after the stunned effect leaved their bodies jaune tells her how stunning she is, yang has a hard time trying not to get embarrassed, but soon enough she replied that he looks very good to, she even says she's surprised that he isn't wearing his hoodie for once, and after exchanging a few words and compliments they both leave to start their date.

And that's all i have for now.

Planned scenes: 1- By the end of the date, yang would realize that her plan failed miserably and that the date just made her fall even more in love with jaune, and by the end of it after a long dance they end up kissing, without realizing, she ends up losing the control of her emotions and ends up releasing some of her dragon traits like her tail the wings and the horns, when they break the kiss jaune's eyes go wide in shock to see her like that, yang realizes what happened and flies away ignoring jaune calling her name.

2- after the bad ending at the date she goes to the only person she knows that will help her to deal with her problem, so she flies as fast as she can during a long time until she reaches her home and knocks on the door, when the door finally opens a woman with red hair and silver eyes pops out and barely gets the chance to ask who it was before yang tackled her into a hug.

Yang says that she screwed up and summer pulls her face away and sees that she's been crying lately, she brings her in and both have a talk about what happened.

3- summer convinces yang to give jaune a chance and that maybe he doesn't think bad of her, it might just be a shocking experience for him, neither she or tai, both normal humans expected to fall in love with a pair of dragon twins but here they were, married to and living with them. So as scary as it is, she will never know actually if she doesn't try, yeah, he being an arc might complicate things but if he really loves her he isn't going to let his family harm her, yang thanks for the advice and goes away, not knowing that qrow was outside hearing everything.

4- yang and jaune finally get together before they talk a bit and jaune tells her he doesn't mind and even tells her that his family doesn't hunt dragons anymore, but before jaume can explain why, a pair of dark haired twins comes crushing the window with their sights set on jaune, yang gets ruby to help her and buy some time for she to take jaune away.

What follows is a pursuit of a very angry qrow and raven after jaune who was being carried by yang to a place he told her would stop this nonsense.

5- when they landed yang noticed it was a big house at a lake near the forest, jaune started banging on the door calling someone, and when the door opened came out a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes that kinda reminded yang of jaune, the girl was jeanne one of jaune's sisters and she instantly teased him asked if she was the girl jaune is always talking about, jaune blushes and says that there's no time for that, and asks where is- before the sentence could be completed qrow and raven landed, they noticed how there was another arc there and that made their blood boil ten times more. A fight started and it seemed that it was obvious who was going to win, neither qrow or raven harmed yang at any point but still, she couldn't hold both of them at the same time, and when raven got an opening she charged at jaune's sister, ready to stab her right on her chest, but before the blade could pierce her, a boy showed up and grabbed the blade, he seemed to be just as old as yang if not a bit older and seemed to be really angry, he faced raven and pushed her back, telling them that if they tried to harm jeanne he would kill both of them, qrow and raven turned into their full dragon forms and were ready to attack before the boy turned into a huge black dragon and roared at them, his appearance combined with his aura made it pretty obvious, the was an omega, not any omega but the son of their dead surrogate father.

After things calmed down, yang asked what was happening and jaune told that the boy was the supposed dead son of the omega, on the day the arcs killed the omega, his young son came for revenge but got gravely injured, jaune and jeanne found him nearly dead in the woods and nursed him back to health, and during the years he and jeanne fell in love and ended up having a relationship, both qrow and raven were incredulous with him, because he was basically dating the daughter of the man who killed his father, he explained that yes the arcs killed his father but it was all part of the plan of an old dragon to take out the original omega from his throne and he was already taking care of this, meanwhile he and the arc family made peace and the arcs learned that the dragons only want to live in peace among with the humans, and now they only hunted rogue dragons who hurt innocent people around the world, he himself never forgave the arc family and doesn't hide his distaste for them, but jaune is his best friend and jeanne is the girl he loves so he has to deal with them.

Qrow and Raven take in the new info and slowly calm down, he tells them to forget about the arcs and if they really want to avenge his father he can help them out, thanks to that yang and jaune are given a moment alone so they can talk a bit more and finally sort things out to start an real relationship.

6- a small epilogue showing adult jaune and yang taking care of their baby dragon at their home, just a small family moment to wrap things up.

Fun facts: 1- in this story, summer is still alive and raven never left home.

2- While raven is still married to tai, summer is married to qrow.

3- Ruby and Yang still treat each other like sisters since because they grew up on the same house and were raised together basically like sisters.

4- this is one of the few stories right now that i intend to finish and post some day.

5- this story could be ready if i wasn't so lazy, i literally have it wrote down to about a third and have the rest totally developed in my head but i'm too lazy to write it down.

#ask me stuff #ask me anything

[readyplayerhobi]

A Court Of Curses

; Vampire Prince!Hoseok x Witch Queen!Reader

; Genre: Smut, angst, fluff

; Warnings: Fingering, oral sex (receiving), choking kink, unprotected sex, biting (vampiric), blood play, creampie, dom!Hoseok, sub!reader, dirty talk, mentions and talk of miscarriage

; Word Count: 29.3k

; Synopsis: For millennia, the vampires and witches have hated one another and war has raged between the two. When tensions flare up once more and spill into neutral land, peace is forced upon the two by the faeries. The price of peace sees the Witch Queen married to the Vampire Prince. One hundred years later, how have things changed?

; A/N: So... I hope people like this. I know it’s super long but I’m hoping people will enjoy. Please let me know what you all think to our delightful vampire prince and please, if you enjoy then reblog and comment! It will help this story reach more people given the issues Tumblr is having!

-

The relations between vampires and witches have always been tense and strenuous. For thousands of years, your people and the vampires have fought in anger and other negative emotions with diplomacy almost non-existent. Retaliation after retaliation, until the original cause of the rift between both races has long been forgotten by the general population.

But you knew how it all began. Your father, the Witch King, had made sure the history of both races was taught to you as you’d grown up within the walls of the seat of power in Hekatalia. That included learning the horrifying knowledge that would fracture your society if they remembered, and would likely incite refusals to acknowledge what had happened. For your people were not the victims, no matter how much they tried to plead it after various vampire attacks.

Amongst your kind, there were various forms of magic that witches performed. Most remained firmly in the white category, with their magic innocent and pure. Some gravitated towards grey, with hexes being cast in anger or annoyance but never crossing an unseen line.

Dark witches though, revelled in the more sinister aspect of magic. Shunned by the normal population, dark magic was performed with especially negative emotions that thirsted for power, driven solely by desire. Sacrifice was common, and torture had been heard of. While deemed repellant by witch society at large, the wicked magic performed by dark witches was often considered required, for you could not have light without dark.

Long ago however, millennia ago in fact, dark witches had thirsted for power just as much as they did now. A certain sect of dark witches however, the Vampirius Sect, had become infamous for their experimentations with their magic beyond the usual sacrifices. These despicable witches had experimented with blood and death and a magic so dark that even the demons shied away from it.

The result had destroyed the sect itself, but it had left the survivors of their experiment forever changed in a way that rocked the world. These people had once been human in some form, simple peasants from the witch kingdom that had been kidnapped from their homes and farms as they worked and slept.

But afterwards, they were maddened creatures that had been ravaged by the dark magic that had crept into their bodies and changed themselves physically, their innate magic being twisted until it no longer resembled anything a witch would call magic. Their vision had been enhanced to that of a cat’s, able to see further and in the night, while their speed and strength had been increased astronomically also.

A farmer who had once struggled to load up his wagon now had the strength to throw said wagon.

And their hunger. Oh, they had hungered for something they did not understand. Food and drink could not sustain them for long, and their mouths watered for something they could not understand until one day, they had snapped. And attacked.

Fangs, sharp as knives, had elongated in their mouths and they had discovered something that satiated the desperate thirst they had. Blood.

Over time the vampire race, so named after the sect that had produced them, had gained their senses and intelligence again. Learning how to use their abilities to increase their standing in the world, they worked hard until they had gained enough land to create a kingdom of their own. They used a combination of slick diplomacy and hard fought battles until they commanded respect from the other races.

All, except the witches. Whom they loathed with a vile passion for what your race had done to theirs. And so war raged between the two. The witches assaulting vampiric lands with spells and magic, burning their crops and razing their lands with spells that left the ground barren.

The vampires responded by destroying witch villages, draining the inhabitants of blood and burning down whole buildings with people inside.

Both sides had committed crimes that were eye-opening and horrific, but you considered your side to have done the most wrong. After all, it was your people who had tortured and experimented on their own kind until the vampires were born.

Over the millennia, the original reasoning for your conflict had become forgotten. It had simply become expected for the witches and vampires to hate each other. And they had. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, had been slaughtered through witchcraft or exsanguination over the years.

Until the neighbouring kingdom’s of the faeries and werewolves had had enough of the war spilling over into their lands.

You had been but a princess when the Great Demonic War had happened. The war had originally begun when a break-away clan of vampires had attacked the witch town of Craysus. Every witch had been slaughtered, with blood soaking into the rich dirt while their houses burnt to ash.

Your own father had tried for diplomacy at first, reaching out to the vampire kingdom of Sanguinus and asking for them to try the murderers. It was futile, as diplomacy had never been officially maintained between the kingdoms.

They had refused however, claiming that the vampires had nothing to do with their kingdom as the accused had renounced their allegiance to the Kingdom of Sanguinus. And so the villages and towns on the border of your kingdom, Hekatalia, had waged their own war. It had been like dominoes falling one by one, until both sides were enraged and war had begun again.

Only this time, people on both sides had fought on land that was not their own. When a faerie prince was killed by accident, the grief-stricken Faerie Queen had united with the Wolf King to end the damned feud between their neighbours once and for all.

A demon bargain had been struck between them, and the Gates of Hell had been opened onto your lands and the vampiric lands. The demons had rained destruction and disaster on both sides, laughing in the face of pleas and scoffing at threats, until finally both beleaguered kingdoms were pleading for mercy.

Your own father had been killed in a battle with a demon to protect you once the fighting had reached the castle, leaving you the next Queen of the Witches. The Vampire King had grudgingly met with you to iron out details of a peace treaty, unheard of between witches and vampires. Unfortunately for both races though, the faeries were not forgiving creatures and the punishment was severe.

A union between vampire and witch was demanded, a marriage between the monarchies. As the Vampire King was already married, his only son had been chosen instead. You had agreed to marry him with bitterness, the knowledge that this would save your kingdom from ruin and death the sole thing that had made you acquiesce.

Your wedding day, a day that should have been bright and happy, had been quiet and subdued. A delegation of the vampires had taken their place in the Oak Grove, the traditional place for marriages in Hekatalia, while a small contingent of witches from your Court had stood on the other, both sides glaring at the other.

The Ancient Oak had stood above you, with its wide trunk wizened with age while grand branches arched overhead. A soft breeze had rustled the leaves gently, which were spelled to never die, and you had wondered for a moment how many marriages this tree had overlooked. How many declarations of love it had observed.

Your dress had been customary for the witches. An emerald green made of the richest silk that swooped and hung elegantly over your curves to represent the earth, while a navy blue sash had been tied to your waist, twined through tiny silver hoops, to symbolise water and rings with rich rubies to represent fire adorning your fingers. The white silk ribbon threaded through your hair represented the very air you breathe, and your feet were bare to connect you to nature and the source of magic.

It probably all seemed very primitive and bizarre to the vampires, with their elegance and love for fashion. Not that your people were not interested in fashion, but they also needed a connection to the very nature whom they relied on to provide their magic.

Tiny white flowers, symbolic of marriage and happiness, had been threaded through your hair along with the ribbon while an elegant diadem intertwined with diamonds and silver leaves rested on your forehead.

Your fiancée had worn a suit of darkness, from his black breeches that clung to toned legs to the ebony, fitted jacket with subtle gold trim that sat on his slim frame. A deep, sultry red shirt of the highest quality silk took its place underneath a black waistcoat, while knee high boots laced up along the front had completed his look.

Despite the animosity between your races, and the fact that you were being forced to marry him to end a war, you would have been a complete fool to deny the handsomeness of him. The vampires were known for their beauty, often breeding purposefully to engineer aesthetically pleasing offspring.

Jung Hoseok was the product of centuries of careful marriages, and it showed in the stiff manner in which he held himself, exuding a confidence and strength that would have made you shiver under normal circumstances. His body was trim and toned, yet there was enough muscle to let you know that he could likely more than hold his own in a fight. He’d been in the vampiric army apparently, serving as a captain during the war.

But his face, his face would never let anyone think he was anything other than royalty. A strong jawline caught the eye first, and anyone looking at his profile would get a perfect view of his arrestingly beautiful nose, sloping straight before turning up at the end ever so slightly.

Hoseok had, and still has, a face made for portraits. Paintings to be looked upon and admired for centuries to come. You had no doubt that artist’s hands twitched for a brush to try and do him justice on a canvas.

High cheekbones led to soft, plush lips with dimples that softened him when he let them appear. And yet it was his eyes that had made you swallow involuntarily at the time. Dark with loathing and hatred for not only you and your kind but the faeries who had brutally hammered an end to the war that had shattered both your lives.

But even then, the shape of them had betrayed his inner personality. Because despite how hard your future husband tried to show his distaste, he had kind eyes.

Still, neither of you had wanted this marriage. And yet you had to, for the only other option was the annihilation of your peoples.

The ceremony had been subdued, a blend of both witch and vampire customs. He’d taken your wrist to his mouth, biting down on the vulnerable flesh there with just enough pressure for his sharpened fangs to cut through the surface. One swallow and he’d let go, before biting at his own wrist and presenting it to you.

It had been distasteful, and you’d wanted to gag at the very thought. But it was required as per their custom. It was how vampires married, my blood to your blood. And so you had swallowed the bitter, metallic liquid with gritted teeth before the exchange of silver rings had occured.

The handfasting had occured next, both holding each others hand as little as possible as the priestess wrapped the rope around your wrists and hands tightly while speaking the marriage vows that you had both repeated.

And then had come the parts that was not traditional to either of you.

The Faerie Queen had stood by and watched as this all happened, before moving forth and placing a dainty hand on your entwined hands. With a slightly smirking smile, she had bestowed the Faerie Curse that had ended the damnable war, finally.

Jung Hoseok and you were wedded, and your kingdoms were at peace. The terms of the curse were simple. For six months of the year, you were required to be together otherwise suffer excruciating pain. If you were not together, then the curse would spread to your people slowly like a disease until both races eventually died out.

To provide some respite, the final six months of the year allowed you to separate. To prevent attempts to be cruel to each other, or try and kill each other when you weren’t required to be near, then any attempts to see each other would result in equal amounts of pain for yourself and your peoples.

If one of you were to die, then that race would die also.

Which meant that you were both bestowed with immortality, even beyond the long lived natures of both races. The perfect way to stop a war, and for one hundred years it has been a great success. The crown jewel in the history of diplomatic relations of your continent.

For the first time in millennia, the vampires and witches are at a full peace. Neither side plots against the other while fringe movements that seek to destabilise the tranquility are struck down quickly with an iron fist to keep the peace.

And all it required, was for the Witch Queen and the Vampire Prince to lose their own chance at happiness.

-

“The carriage has been seen, Your Majesty.” The words come from an attendant who takes your empty plate from you quickly, bowing low so as not to see your expression of distaste. Sighing deeply, you look down at your now barren table and take a deep drink of the rich red wine in your glass.

Six months of quiet is about to be interrupted by the arrival of your husband, and it only takes a lazy glance around the expansive dining room to see the quick movements of servants as they clean.

You’re not sure why they bother, as he has lived in this castle for fifty of the last one hundred years, but you presume it is just a force of habit. Any guest arriving saw the castle being cleaned from top to toe. At least he couldn’t complain about a dirty residence.

Standing, you smile graciously as another attendant takes your empty glass before they scurry off through a side door to the kitchen. You have no doubt that the kitchen staff are cleaning up for the evening, perhaps even making their own meals to either eat in the warm room or to take home to their families.

You had long ago decreed that the servants of the castle were free to eat in the kitchen and any leftover food should be eaten instead of thrown. It would truly be a travesty for your chef’s food to go to waste. Jin did not train his skills in three kingdom’s just to have that thrown away.

Walking out of the overly large dining room, you move slowly through the empty hallways and look them over with a critical eye. The stone walls are clean, with not even a cobweb in sight and your lips purse as you note the crystal clear glass of the windows. Even the paintings that hang along the walls are in the best condition possible, each one with their colours vibrant and vivid as they portray important moments in witch history or one of Hekatalia’s many monarchs.

Your own portrait is not in this hallway, but you never like looking at it anyway. The artist, Kim Taehyung, was phenomenal but you simply found it vain to stare at yourself. There was a second portrait of you with your husband in another hallway and you sometimes felt like you could feel his disdain coming from within the coloured oils.

Moving towards the main hallway, you take a pause to look up at the grand and cavernous room. The ornate chandelier, with its thousands of exquisitely cut diamonds, is shining brightly as the spelled candles burn forevermore within, casting dancing shadows around the room in the evening light while the glare of the crystals causes pretty patterns to appear.

The sweeping staircase on either side of the entranceway is made of the finest marble, and you ponder for a moment the many kings and queens who have used these stairs to retire for the evening. There are plenty of staircases in the castle of course, but as the main entryway this was designed to shock and awe visitors.

Which it did, but your husband did not arrive using the main entrance. Not after one hundred years anyway.

Instead, you continue on down one of the smaller corridors that is usually used by the servants of the castle. Years spent as a child in these halls mean that you know the castle like the back of your hand, and as such you know the quickest way to the servant’s entrance around the rear of the castle.

Nodding to the attendants who wait with blank faces, you head out of the door and stand with perfect poise. Your timing was ideal, as the aristocratic black and red carriage enters into the small courtyard as you place your hands togetehr. The four Sanguinus steeds breathe heavily, their dark sides heaving from the effort of pulling the carriage and you watch as servants from your own stables move forward to provide water and feed for the animals.

Vampire coachmen alight from the carriage and you recognise one of them as Kim Namjoon, a long serving attendant of your husband’s who has accompanied him on the extensive journey from his kingdom to yours over the many years. Luggage is pulled from the back of carriage and piled high before the door opens and you finally get a glimpse of the man you will spend the next six months with.

He’s tall and elegant as always, with a stiff and straight posture that belies his regal upbringing. Taking a moment to observe the tall, white walls of the castle, you hear him let out a little sigh before he rolls his head slowly, stretching his shoulders out. The journey is long from Sanguinus to Hekatalia, and you have no doubt that he is tired and in need of rest.

Finally, his gaze moves to you and you watch as those dark eyes turn onto you firmly. Even after one hundred years, it is still an awkward meeting of the two kingdoms. Perhaps one day, it will not feel like this.

“Wife.” Hoseok greets coldly, his expression barely moving except for the slightest twitch of his dark brow. Equally dark eyes remained focused on you, and you noted the tiniest pout to his lips.

Still immature, even after one hundred years of marriage.

“Husband.” You responded, making sure your tone matched his own. His attendants shuffled awkwardly around you both, the glacial attitude you both had to each other causing a strong tension in the room that you simply couldn't see.

“My prince, we will take our leave now and return in six months for you,” Namjoon next to him whispered, a hand on your husband’s arm that stood out from the black material while is own icy blonde hair swayed in the soft breeze. “We wish you well.”

Hoseok didn't even look at the man as he nodded his acknowledgement. Your husband was not rude to his attendants, but you had noticed over the years that the vampires were certainly a little more brusque when it came to ruling. They often thought the witches were soft in that area, but you just reasoned that it was natural to care more when you had such a strong link to nature.

Without any further words, you watched carefully as they alighted into the carriage before the horses pulled away at a frantic canter. Amusement tugged at your lips as you watched them speed off, still fascinated at how many of your races could still hate each other after one hundred long years of peace.

And one hundred years of your curse.

There's silence for a moment, the sound deafening between you both and you're sure it's louder for your husband. He has hearing beyond your comprehension, something that has been a source of annoyance over the years.

Without a word, he moves closer in a stride that gives away his confidence that you will not push him away. There are no attendants of your own here, for it has long become established that you greet your husband in private.

As he stands close enough that you can feel his warm breath brush the flyaway strands of your hair, you can't help the tiny smile that appears

Reaching forward, your hands slip under the black jacket he has on, sliding along his dark waistcoat before they rejoin around his back. Looking up at his elegant face, you note the darkness in his eyes has softened slightly, deep black strands of hair falling into his gaze.

He says nothing for a moment, before he cups your face in strong hands that are ever so slightly cooler than your own. Leaning close, you take in the magnificent sight of your husband as your noses touch gently.

“I have missed you wife.” Hoseok practically breathes out, the longing and want of six months that he has kept hidden threading through each soft word.

You can't help the smile, nor the warmth of satisfaction and the buzz of happiness that burrows its way into your body at his tender words, his hands tender in their touch on your face. “I have missed you too husband. Desperately.”

He smiles at that, statuesque face breaking into a heart stoppingly beautiful grin that lightens not only him but you. Not a word is said further as he presses his lips to yours in a soft, but much needed kiss, your lips naturally fitting to each other after years of experience.

Despite the chaste nature to the kiss, he doesn’t move away to shorten the kiss and neither do you. Instead, your hands move to grip at the firmness of his slim waist while his own slowly move down your body, causing a wave of sensation that has you burning from the inside. Each touch is electrifying, setting your skin ablaze and you curse the fact it has been six months since you have touched him like this.

Since he has touched you like this.

Pulling away from him slowly, you give him a smile that is far more shy than it should be for a queen. But how could you not? He fills you with a happiness that vanishes with him for six months of the year, stowed away with him in the carriage he takes back to his kingdom.

“Come, I will have a bath drawn for you. You no doubt want to clean yourself.” You whisper, the sounds barely heard as they breath against his lips but he smiles all the same. A slow nod sends the dark strands of his hair into his face as he acknowledges, before you are both separating and heading through the plain wooden door.

Inside are four of your attendants, and you direct two of them to pick up his luggage and place it inside his rooms while the final two are directed to run him a warming bath. They pause for a moment, eyeing the handsome visage of the vampire prince next you before bowing their heads and scurrying out of the room.

Over recent years, the reactions to your husband have thawed in your kingdom. No longer is he treated with outright resentment, but more of a bored annoyance that simply seems to stem from an inherited idea that he is something wrong. Perhaps it is because he is always courteous, polite and kind whilst here.

Either way, the servants of the castle no longer sneer in his presence. They are certainly not comfortable with him, but you have noted the younger servants seem to be more at ease in his company.

It is eye opening to think that there are witches who will grow up only ever knowing peace with the vampires, and it gives you hope that one day you will be able to love him openly.

The two of you stand there for a moment in silence, neither looking at the other given the eyes that could be staring. You wish, desperately, that you could love your husband like any other wife. That you could watch him with an expression that says he put the stars in the sky for you and give him sly, coded smiles to make him flush and go shy like he does in private.

But you can’t. Because your marriage is not a marriage of love and kindness. It is a marriage of curses and pain. And that is what everyone expects to see.

Despondency settles itself firmly in your chest, gripping your throat tightly with a grim hand and it feels hard to breathe suddenly. You just want to love your husband. That’s all.

You’re jerked out of your despairing thoughts by the softest brush against your hand. It’s so featherlight that you almost think it’s a insect of some kind, scuttering along your skin and you jerk until you look down and see his hand there, brushing yours in a motion that would go unnoticed by anyone watching. Lowering your hand back down, you let the back of his hand brush against yours as you lead him to his usual rooms, a smile hidden deep inside at his comforting touch.

The two of you had learnt well how to hide your feelings for each other over the years. Despite the thawing emotions in your kingdom, there were many who still looked at him with disgust. Particularly those who did not live or work in the castle. Disgust for what he is, and fear for what his people have historically done.

You wish that you could show them that your people had done terrible things too. It would be wise for your population to remember that it was because of witches that vampires had even been created.

Shaking your head slightly, you let out the tiniest sigh as you acknowledged how futile that would be. In all honesty, you were just thankful that your people had chosen to accept the treaty. Both the witches and vampires were proud races, and it had been a bitter pill of humiliation to swallow to accept the terms offered to them.

Though, in reality they had no choice. The royal lineage ended with you and you were the metaphorical lightning rod of all magic for witchkind. It was through you that nature pushed its magic into, and it filtered out from you to the rest of the population. Millennia of breeding may have made Hoseok beautiful, but it had made you the perfect receptacle for the sheer amount of power you hosted.

Without you, the magic would run rampant and wild, killing witches who simply could not cope with that level of magic. A simple spell to wash a bowl could erupt into the equivalent of a magical bomb.

It meant that your people had to accept the treaty. The choice had been a slow death of madness with magic overloading people’s senses, a slow death of the curse spreading out in a wave or their lives in tact while their Queen remained shackled to a vampire.

It was easy to see why they had acquiesced.

Only, no one could have predicted that in only one hundred years, you would see the Faerie Curse as a half blessing. Half because it had given you your beloved, but half because it took him away for part of the year.

The prying eyes of servants who had not been spelled to keep your secrecy meant that you left Hoseok at his door, a meaningful glance from him telling you more in only a few seconds than any words could have ever hoped to say.

Your husband and you had become masters of conversations with only a glance, words with a touch and emotions with simply a subtle gesture.

Bowing your head to him regally, you turn and force one foot in front of the other as you hear his door close quietly. Your own rooms are next to his, the traditional suite of the monarchy and as you enter them, you rue the silence of the large expanse.

It had been your parents room before their demise, and you had changed it subtly over the century. A four poster bed took up most of the space, elegant curtains of pale silver and ruby red ready to make a private area just for yourself to sleep in while fluffy pillows littered the upper half of the mattress.

You wondered sometimes if any of the servants who were not in your, very small, inner circle had figured out the subtle meaning of them. Silver was the traditional colour of witches, while red was the symbolic colour of the vampires. Combining them together was a subtle gesture you had made long ago to let people know that this was your marriage bed, despite his separate rooms.

Sitting down on the soft, downy covers, you run a hand along the silk slowly and let out a slow, shaking sigh. Movement to your left causes you to look up, spying your most trusted assistant as she bows her head in respect as she enters the room.

Soyeon is young, but her family have served yours now for three generations. She had discovered your secret feelings for your husband when she had accidentally intruded one morning years ago, finding the two of you in the throes of passion.

Both of you had been terrified, worried about what people would think when they discovered the intimate relations the two of you shared. They had accepted the peace treaty, and begrudgingly accepted the marriage of monarchies, but resentment and anger still lingered strongly. It was one thing to consider the vampire prince courteous, but you were not sure how people would feel about finding out he shared your bed.

Instead, she had shyly smiled at you and told you that she was happy that you had found happiness in your marriage. It had confused you at first, the fact that a witch was not afraid or angry of her queen being in love with a vampire but she had been supportive ever since. She even liked Hoseok. A lot.

Hoseok was always kind to her when he was here, and it reflected in how she had accepted the relationship you had. He liked to joke around with her and you were pretty positive he considered her a little sister.

It had been the first time someone had voluntarily undertaken the spell that would not allow her to insinuate anything that could give away your love for each other, and she had become closer to you than anyone you had known previously.

“The prince is looking handsome today.” She says, her tone soft yet with just a tiny hint of teasing. Your lips quirk slightly, happy that you have at least one person who will tease you like a friend would. It was hard to maintain true friendships when you were the leader of a country, particularly a leader with a spouse that was despised.

“He is always handsome Soyeon, whatever do you mean?” You joke back, standing when she gestures and turning around to give her access to the delicate ribbons holding your dress together. Breathing out with relief as the tight bodice slackens, you watch out of the window over the darkening skies.

“You’re right, Your Majesty. He is always handsome. Are you happy he is here?” Her voice is sweet, full of curiosity towards both him and you while her deft fingers work at the dress quickly and efficiently. Watching the sky that is painted in oranges, pinks and yellows, you let a smile brighten your face.

“So happy. I have six months of happiness with him. Even if it is beyond closed doors, in empty gardens or secluded areas.” A hint of wistfulness enters your voice, the pining you have to just be with him normally appearing without your consent and Soyeon lets out a soft sigh of her own as she helps you out of the dress.

As you slip on your white nightgown, so plain compared to the delicate finery you normally don in the day, you watch her closely in the mirror as she begins to tidy up your room. “I’m sorry Your Majesty. I can try to make it so that you have more time alone with him this year?”

You smile at her appreciatively, nodding your head in acknowledgement while she begins to wipe away the makeup she had applied so carefully to your face this morning. “I would appreciate that Soyeon. Still, I’m happy because he is here at least. I can see him and hear him. My loneliness has disappeared now my happiness has arrived.”

A beautiful smile spreads over her face, lighting up her tan skin and revealing the sweet face you often admired. Soyeon would make a wonderful wife one day if she so chose, with her kind and caring nature combined with the beauty she had been bestowed at birth.

“I’m glad. You’re finished for the night Your Majesty,” She pauses slightly as she reaches the door, hands clasped together tightly. “I will ensure that no servants are to bother you tonight, or tomorrow morning. Nor your husband.” A secretive look flits over her face and you nod in thanks.

Soyeon is truly a gift.

The young assistant leaves your rooms and you walk over to the door, locking it carefully before turning to the door that connects your room to your husbands. Long ago, it was common for monarch’s to sleep separately from their spouses. That had changed over the centuries, but the rooms were still designed like this and were still connected.

When you had first married, you had lived in fear and concern for your life at the fact Hoseok had been placed in the rooms next to yours. It was the only thing you could do as a sign of respect for his royal standing in Sanguinus, but the knowledge of him being there had been nerve wracking. You had been as prejudiced towards vampires as your fellow subjects.

Now, however, it was a benefit that you often thanked yourself for doing. Because it was the only time that you could be sure you would have time with him alone.

Heading over to the mahogany door, you tap lightly on the intricate engravings that portray an ancient forest. A quiet acknowledgement comes from the other side and you enter, closing the door almost silently behind you as you take in the sight before you.

Hoseok’s rooms are a mirror of yours, with his bed covered in blood-red silken sheets that look luscious and inviting. His luggage, the griffin symbol of the vampire monarchy engraved on the dark leather front, sits on the floor nearby, waiting to be stored away in the numerous dark wood wardrobes, drawers and chests that are situated around the room.

And the elegant, marble tub that had been brought into the centre of the room took pride of place amongst everything else. It was currently sat atop the intricate rug that Hoseok had bought four years ago, the red and silver strands weaving together in a beautiful and nonsensical design.

It feels delightfully soft and fluffy as you walk upon it, stopping next to the bath’s edge. Inside, is your husband. And he looks magnificent as he lays back, the water up to his chest and steaming from the heat while a layer of frothy bubbles hides anything else from your curious view.

His eyes are closed as his head tips back against the edge, the black strands of his hair sticking to his forehead in the sweat that glistens all over the skin you can see. The lit candles around the room make his golden skin almost glow and you have to physically bite your lip to keep the moan you want to let out in.

“Enjoying your bath, husband?” You ask quietly, kneeling down and placing an elbow on the cool marble. He doesn’t do anything for a moment, but you note the twitch of his lips as he tries to keep his lips firm.

Reaching forward, you let your fingers trail along the velvety skin of his lips and laugh softly with amusement as they open up immediately for you. Hoseok makes no comment as you push your index finger between those open buds until you feel the firm enamel of his fang. His reaction is immediate and you watch with a raised brow as his hands grip the sides of the bath firmly, toned muscles in his arms suddenly appearing at the movement.

Something you had discovered over the many years, was that vampires had a little bit of an oral fixation. And their teeth were a little more sensitive than yours.

His head jerks away from your prying fingers and he glares at you through narrowed eyes. “I was, until my wife decided to intrude upon my quiet relaxation. What does it take for a man to bathe in peace around here?”

His grumbling is light though, the tone of his voice almost airy and your stomach clenches at the sound. Anymore teasing that you might give him is gone suddenly as your hand moves along his face, thumb stroking at the silky skin of his cheek while your other hand traces along the prominent veins on the back of his hand.

“Well...it has been six months since your wife saw you. Maybe she just missed you?” You don’t mean for the words to sound so full of emotion, your throat constricting while a sheen of tears suddenly fills your eyes.

Almost immediately he’s frowning, sitting up in the water and causing it to slosh along the sides loudly. Some of it even falls over the edge, dropping into your lap and causing a damp spot to stick the thin fabric of your gown to your knees.

“Darling, I did not mean to upset you. I have missed you dreadfully too,” His own hand cups your cheek now, damp from the water and you lean into it desperately. The pressing of his forehead to your own causes you to open your eyes to him, noting those chocolate irises so close to yours. “I swear, it gets harder every year to pretend to hate coming here. One year, I will jump with joy when the carriage arrives for me.”

You huff out a laugh at that, knowing that it is likely going to be a long time before Hoseok does such a thing. Relations between your races are no longer fiery and hot, but have instead turned glacial and cold with both sides understanding that they have to grudgingly get along.

People are likely not ready to accept the fact that their queen and prince are in fact, in love.

One day though, you will both tell the world to go to hell and finally embrace your own happiness. And why shouldn’t you? You had been forced into this marriage one hundred years ago, why should they expect you to both remain unhappy in it forever?

Moving away, you take hold of his hands and thread your fingers through with his. For someone who was in the military during the war, and even now remained active when he was back there, his hands were long fingered and elegant. Pianist hands.

He could play the piano as well, and he often liked to for you when he was here. Songs filled with love and emotion that only you could decode and understand.

Taking the cleaning rag that had been left over the side, you dip it into the water and slowly begin to drag it over his skin. He watches you lazily, appreciation in his eyes as you clean along his chest and arms slowly.

“How have you been?” You ask quietly, stroking along the delicate yet firm flesh reverently while your eyes flicker across his face, taking in every bit of him to see if anything had changed. Vampires were long lived, even longer than witches and they healed faster too.

But still, sometimes things happened that could leave permanent scarring.

He smiles for a moment, the look making his eyes crease and look even kinder than they had the day you had married him. That is, until you note the sly look in them.

Before you can even say anything about that, his hands move to your waist where he grips firmly and the next thing you know, you’re landing in the tub on top of him in a supreme show of vampiric strength. Water immediately bursts over the side, the bubbles slipping over the edge and you let out a shriek of combined laughter and indignation as your nightgown clamps to your skin.

The water is almost scalding hot and there really is no room for two people in here, but you can’t find it in yourself to complain as he holds you closely to his chest while your legs dangle off the edge.

“I have been fine my darling. Bored even. There’s nothing interesting happening there. I’ve simply been leading military maneuvers and listening to my father as he holds meetings. I hear that we have finally managed to secure a trade deal with Hekatalia? Apparently the leader was a real witch to work with.” He muses, tilting his head back as he scans the ceiling in faux surprise while his hand rubs at him chin.

You poke at his chest lightly before leaning forward and nipping gently at his jawbone. “Hush you. Be glad you weren’t present for those meetings. That, is the epitome of boredom. You know what I really don’t care about? The tax ratings on cheese. Great goddess, I thought negotiating taxes on Sanguine steeds was bad enough.”

Hoseok watches you fondly as you continue to complain about taxes, noting that there’s a reason you hire advisors who specialise solely in tax work. The entire time he watches you, his fingers slowly trace along your exposed thigh in a decidedly non-sexual manner. Instead, it feels soothing and comforting.

“Well...our cheese truly is delicious though. Do you not remember when I brought you some ten years ago?” He states and the memory slowly filters its way back into your mind. Eyes widening as your cheeks flush, your head tilts down as you lick at your lips.

“I do. It was delicious, I will concede to you on that.” You say slowly, eyes flickering back up to look into his. He’s silent for a moment, and you’ve known him long enough to know that he is calculating behind those pretty eyes of his.

“I do like it when you concede to me.” He whispers and you can’t stop the shiver that runs through you at the slight darkness to his voice. Your husband has sexual preferences that are probably considered brow raising to many, and disgusting to many of your race in particular.

“Still, I’m glad I don’t have to do those kinds of meetings yet. Despite the years of training, I’m really not sure if I’m cut out for this king business. In fact, I’m hoping my father lives a lot longer or he just gives the throne to one of my sisters. Then I can just let my wife take all the prestige.” One of his hands move around to your waist, stroking along the wet fabric there slowly while a smile spreads on his face.

You snort out a decidedly un-ladylike laugh as you let your own hand rest against his damp shoulder. Hoseok is not your equal in your kingdom, nor will he ever be. In the world you live in at large, men rule most of it. But Hekatalia is a kingdom that run by the women more often than not, your father had been the first Witch King in over 1000 years.

As such, Hoseok will never be king here, in fact he will always be your Prince Consort. But in his kingdom, you will be his Queen Consort, of an equal ranking to him. He doesn’t care about this, and he’s made it clear on more than one occasion that he doesn’t care. You like that about him, that he isn’t interested in the power that will be bestowed to him.

“You will make a good king Hoseok, despite your concerns. You are kind and caring. Yet strong and not afraid to bring down justice when needed. I could not be prouder to call you husband.” You grin at him and watch as his already reddened cheeks from the heat flush even further.

His pink tongue flicks out to wetten his lips before a hand pushes at the wet strands of his hair, moving it backwards until his entire forehead is on show. You murmur approvingly before looking back into his eyes, noting the deep brown that has a slightly reddish tinge to it now.

Hoseok says nothing further, but instead leans forward until he captures your lips in a kiss between his own. The kiss earlier had been innocent and full of longing, but this has a decidedly different tone to it.

Hot and needy, with the passion of six months celibacy sparking between the two of you. Each movement of his lips is perfect, with just enough pressure to make you want more and you can’t stop the soft moan as your lips open up to his.

His response is immediate, with his tongue dipping into your mouth and dancing with your own in a sensual game that you had both begun decades before. The dance is familiar and yet tinged with anticipation and need, each stroke of the wet muscle against your sensitive mouth pulling a corresponding convulsion of your inner muscles between your thighs.

You respond to his movement, shifting your body until your legs slip under the hot water, moving so that your knees rest against the tight space on either side of his body while your arms wrap around his neck. His sharp incisors, elongated from his heightened emotions, accidentally nick your tongue. The pain is fleeting and an unfortunate price to pay for kissing a vampire but you can’t it in yourself to care.

Not when the growl he releases sounds like it has been ripped from the bottom of his chest, guttural and vibrating against your tongue as he sucks it into his mouth at the small taste of your blood. It may not be the prettiest kiss to witness, but it is pure attraction and desire between the two of you as you moan and pant, grinding your hips against his groin.

The wet nightgown sticks to you above the water, but below it floats aimlessly while your panties are almost tantalising in the friction they’re producing against your clit. Hoseok’s hardness is pressing firmly against you in the water and you can’t stop the way you press against him, hips moving forwards and backwards with desperation as your stomach tightens.

Pulling away from you with an almost audible noise, Hoseok breathes heavily as he looks up at you with ruby red eyes. “Wife...you taste so good.” He gasps out, his fangs lenghtened to their full length and you can’t help the shiver of fear that runs down your spine. Even after all these years, the instinct that has been bred into you tells you to run.

It just makes the sex better.

“Have you fed?” You whisper, pressing needy kisses to whatever skin you can reach on his face and he lets out a low groan that’s bordering on a whine as you grind your scalding heat against his thickness. His head shakes a negative and you bite your lip in response, reaching down to tug off your nightgown and throwing it over the side where it lands in a wet heap.

“Feed then husband. What kind of wife would I be if I did not make sure my husband was cared for?” You whisper into his ear, kissing along the exposed skin there and delighting in the salty taste of his sweat. He practically purrs in response, his hands moving up from your waist to cup your breasts while his thumbs play with your hardened nipples.

“I have missed this, wife.” Hoseok grins, looking up at you with eyes that should terrify. Instead, you lean down and press a quick kiss to his mouth before moving along his jawline, sucking open mouthed kisses there while pushing at his head.

He doesn’t bite though, and instead one hand drops below the water without you realising. Instead, you feel the sudden pressure of his fingers against the swollen bundle of nerves between your legs, the pads swirling around the bud in a pleasing manner that has your hips jerking and a cry leaving your mouth.

“Oh Hoseok, goddess yes.” You breathe out, head tilting back as he plays with your clit slowly. Hoseok doesn’t move fast, instead letting his fingertips press against you in firm and measured movements that makes sparks of pleasure zip through your body with each rotation.

Moving his head, Hoseok presses his lips to your collarbone and sucks hard at the skin, leaving rosettes of bruises that will have to be covered up tomorrow no doubt. You find it hard to care though when he slips a long finger inside of you, your inner muscles contracting greedily around him as he strokes along your insides in a slow and steady pace, exploring a place he knows well yet hasn’t been acquainted with in so long.

“More.” You whine, high pitched with need and he acquiesces with a dark chuckle, tongue laving attention to a particular spot on your neck. A second finger enters you, scissoring for a moment to stretch you in a way that you gasping and gripping his shoulders firmly before he’s twisting the long digits in a pleasing manner.

As he moves his hand, water slaps against the side of the tub from your insistent hips that angle and move to try and get the most pleasure you can, while his arm moving causes its own ripples corresponding ripples. Carding your fingers through his damp hair, you press his head further against you.

It’s as his fingers press firmly against the roughened bunch of nerves on your inner wall, the sensation causing fireworks of sparkling pleasure to erupt in your body as you clench around him, that he bites. The combination of his talented fingers, his thumb working insistently on your swollen clit and the pinch of pain from your throat sends you clean over the edge.

Body jerking wildly, you cry out in the throes of pleasure as you contract around his fingers with a vice like grip. With your hips gyrating wildly from the force of your pleasure, Hoseok has to work hard to stay in control as he continues to stroke you through your orgasm until you’re whining with tears from the over stimulation.

The whole time, he’s sucking at the twin marks he’s made in your neck as he feeds. Quiet groans of delight leave him as his throat works, swallowing your blood while he finally stills those talented fingers inside you.

Hoseok had to feed at least once a week, and you used to have a servant agree to do it. Over the last few decades however, you just claimed to have a servant do it when in fact, you fed him. No one had ever caught on, as no servant ever wanted to admit to being fed on by a vampire.

It was only with you that he used sex though, and he admitted that it wasn’t only for his own sexual needs. Pleasure, apparently, saturated the blood with a rich flavouring that made it even more delightful and pleasing than normal. He’d compared it to soaking a fine joint of meat in an aged wine.

Licking at the bite marks he’d caused, Hoseok remains with his mouth against your neck for a moment as you both breathe heavily, catching your breath. Running your fingers through his hair, you tug lightly until he looks at you with a lazy gaze, eyes glossed over with the satisfaction of a good feed.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” You ask, moving against his thick length as you wince from the overwhelming sensation. He’s silent for a moment before shaking his head, giving you a smile that reveals normally white teeth stained red while his lips are cherry red.

“No. I’m okay. That was good enough for me.” Hoseok slurs, tongue licking along his teeth and removing some of the blood. You chuckle lightly, your own limbs feeling heavy from his feeding as you rest your cheek against his shoulder.

Feeding Hoseok often left you tired, a result of the loss of blood, and it often left Hoseok blood drunk. He said it was because of the pleasure, which was not only more flavourful but also acted in a similar fashion to alcohol and left him in a slightly inebriated mind.

His own cheek rests against your head lightly, the both of you too tired from your activities in the cooling water. “We should move.” Hoseok murmurs, the sound quiet and filled with sleepiness. Smiling, you heave yourself out of the water and encourage him out too.

He’s wobbly on his legs, but you both manage to get to the large bed where you slump under the covers, the thick comforters hiding you both from the world and making a small cocoon of warmth and love. Hoseok does nothing for a moment before he’s rolling onto his side, tugging you over to him and pressing your back to his front.

Smiling softly, you feel him press a firm kiss to your hair before you slip into a comfortable sleep in the arms of your husband.

-

The first week of reunion with Hoseok passes by quickly, and as usual it is a stressful yet pleasurable time. Six months of celibacy and longing often combine in explosive results in the bedroom, a spell to mute noise often necessary to hide the moans and groans of desire and need that seep into the walls.

It meant that it was often hard to focus on your work, particularly when you had the knowledge that your husband was right there. Meals were often strained and awkward, filled with a tension that your servants assumed to be irritation when in fact it was clenched thighs, whispered spells of touches and glares that promised retribution when you returned to your rooms.

But still, life would not stop with the arrival of your husband and you were forced to continue on with your daily activities. Tuesday’s were for meeting your advisors and discussing the general issues that were causing a problem amongst the citizens of your kingdom.

Wednesday’s were spent receiving updates about the neighbouring kingdoms and those further afield, learning the newest information that filtered through from both natural channels and those more secretive ones.

Thursday’s were the day that your subjects were allowed to seek an audience with you, proposing solutions to problems or presenting conflicts that they wanted you to resolve. It was often tedious, and some days you just wanted to stay in bed or go to your garden and be done with it all.

But that was not what a monarch did.

This was precisely the reason that Hoseok always had to make the journey to Hekatalia, for the vampire prince was not needed in his kingdom to the degree that you were. You, however, were most definitely needed to keep order. Not to mention that you couldn’t stray too far from the Ancient Oak for too long, which served not only as a site of marriage but also as a natural connection to the source of magic.

As such, the first week was filled with sex of all kinds until you had both gotten it out of your systems before you both settled into the comfortable, yet confined, life you had both adjusted to over the years.

Your time with Hoseok was often limited to behind the doors of your bedroom, and you so desperately wished for more with him. As a queen, you never expected to have a normal relationship. But you certainly expected to at least be able to touch him in public.

Your hope that your relationship would be accepted increased every year with the gradual acceptance of your husband. He wasn’t welcome in discussions with your advisors, but he had slowly begun to take on more a role expected of a Prince Consort and to your delight, he was not being pushed away.

But you were still unsure as to public displays of affection.

Which is why if you hadn’t favoured Soyeon before, then you most certainly did when she informed you that she had managed to secure you an entire afternoon and evening free of obligations after two months had passed. A whole half of a day that could be spent with Hoseok alone, which was more time in one go than you’d experienced in ten years.

Excitement had bubbled in your stomach as the both of you had mounted your horses. You had decided to take him on a ride to get him out of the castle, to go somewhere where you truly would not be bothered by prying eyes. As such, a black cloak was wrapped around your shoulders while the hood covered head and a dark green scarf was raised over your lower face.

Hoseok had frowned at the regalia as he’d donned his own cloak and scarlet red scarf, the colour making his beauty even more apparent even if you could only see his eyes, but you’d reassured him it was fine. This was the standard attire of travellers in Hekatalia, and no one would raise a brow at the sight of you both.

He’d bowed his head in acknowledgement, acquiescing to you and your knowledge before a click of his tongue and a tap of his heels encouraged his tall, steel grey steed into a brisk walk, hooves clopping loudly on the cobblestones. Nodding towards Soyeon, you reached out and clasped her hand tightly while you thanked her and promised that you would both be back by nightfall.

She smiled at you, bowing her head down and returning to the castle as you encouraged your own dark bay mare after your husband. You liked to ride when you had time, and the prospect of riding with your husband had an almost childish feeling bubbling your stomach. Trotting to catch up, you noted with pleasure the exquisite picture he drew as he rode with a confidence that told of years of riding experience.

Black breeches clung to his toned legs, muscles that had been gained from years upon years of exercise while his familiar knee high leather boots rested against the horse’s side. He sat straight as an arrow, his riding posture textbook perfect as the leather reins sat in his hands lightly.

Perhaps no one would give you a second glance given your attire, but they might give a second glance given his posture. There was no doubt that Hoseok was a man who had been trained extensively on how to ride a horse, his breeding showing despite the hood that covers him.

It was unbelievably sexy for some reason though, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip breathlessly as you finally caught up to him. Your husband often managed to turn you in ways that you hadn’t thought were even turn ons until he appeared in your life. Even before you’d confessed your feelings to each other fifty years ago.

He looks over with a dark brow raised in question at your expression and you stare at him for a moment, taking in the sight of his chocolate half-moon eyes that soften as he watches you in turn. Without a word, he reaches over and clasps a hand with one of yours, squeezing tightly before letting go.

Smiling to yourself beneath the scarf, your shoulders straighten as you feel a weight being lifted off them. Taking the lead, you keep on riding until you finally direct Hoseok to the Oak Grove that holds the Ancient Oak your race reveres so much.

Due to being a vampire, Hoseok was often confined to the castle even more than you were when he was here. Though he had no actual restrictions on him, it your people were not very likely to accept him walking around freely, and so he voluntarily chose to stay within the castle walls.

It surely had to drive him mad to not do the activities he was so used to,  but he simply shrugged and pointed out that he had no choice, so there was no point in whining. Though you had noted in recent years that he had slowly begun to venture further in the grounds, and he had even gone to the village at the foot of the castle last month.

There had been no screaming or fear from your subjects, and it had warmed you to hope that perhaps they may be accepting him finally. Stil, his lack of knowledge outside of the castle walls meant that he had no idea where anything was and so he willingly followed you with trust.

Turning, you watch as he catches sight of the giant tree that takes up most of the clearing, his eyes widening as he takes it in. The surrounding forest is even taller, forming a perfect circle of protection around the tree that provided your people with life sustaining magic.

The pillowy soft grass blew softly in the gentle breeze, bringing with it the scent of flowers and rain. It hadn’t rained in days, yet you knew the magic of the Oak Grove meant that strange things happened sometimes.

“Isn’t that…” He trails off, slowing his horse down with a gentle tug on the reins until his stallion stops, head shaking in annoyance and jangling the metal bit in his mouth. You watch for a moment before smiling, tugging down your scarf and nodding.

“It is. This is where we got married. It’s a sacred place to witches, and we shall find peace and quiet here tonight.” You grin at him, swinging a leg over your mares rump and landing in the grass with a soft thud. Bringing her over to a branch of a nearby tree that was often used to hitch horses, you watch as Hoseok does the same while looking around the grove in fascination.

“But...won’t people be coming here to get married?” Hoseok asks in confusion, brows creasing and his lips moving into a pout as he lowers his own scarf. Moving over to him, you slide your hands under his cloak and jacket until you’re hugging him tightly, resting your chin against his chest with a sweet smile.

“Nope. All marriages have to be approved by the Witch Court and overseen by a priestess, and there are none scheduled for today. Soyeon checked and double checked. The Ancient Oak is sacred to my people and is one of the major source points for our magic, so it is strictly prohibited to be here when there is no marriage taking place.”

He looks around for a moment, mahogany eyes taking in the impressive sight. You love to come here when he’s back in Sanguinus, the area quiet and peaceful. The magic here tingles on your skin, like tiny kisses of appreciation from nature and you look around, trying to see it how he does.

The tall forest that surrounds you cuts off a large portion of light, sunbeams drifting down lazily through the canopy. There’s enough light here to see easily though, but the Oak Grove needs no sun to look beautiful. The very magic that sustains your race causes the Ancient Oak to emit an ethereal glow, the wood almost tinged in a blue-white light while the leaves are dotted with tiny sparks of light that twinkle at all times of day.

A small smile tugs at Hoseok’s lips before he looks back down at you with a sardonic expression. “Except for the queen I’m guessing?”

You laugh lightly at his words, pulling away before taking his hand and twining your fingers together firmly. Hoseok immediately grips it tighter and you can’t help but feel happiness and contentment bubble in your veins at being able to do this out in the open.

What must it feel like? To love him freely?

“Of course. I am connected to this tree as the medium of magic for witchkind, so therefore I am allowed here whenever I so feel like,” Turning around, you walk backwards with a small hop of joy as you give him the brightest smile of glee that produces a responding expression from him almost involuntarily. “And I wanted to bring my husband here. I don’t get to give you anything in the castle...but I can bring you to one of the most important and sacred places to me here.”

Sitting down amongst the roots of the solid tree, dragging your fingers through the rich soil with reverance, you watch as he stands with hands on his hips and looks up at the arching branches with a soft smile.

“I hated this place when I first came here, perhaps unsurprisingly. This tree was the representation of everything I should despise as a vampire. The source of your magic and the source of my pain being wedded to you. Vampires for centuries have plotted how to destroy this you know.”

He’s quiet for a moment, reaching out and placing a hand on the wizened trunk, stroking along the bark slowly. Biting your lip, you look from his neutral face to his hand. “And now?”

He says nothing before letting out a quiet snort of laughter, kneeling down in the fragrant blades of grass to press a loving kiss to your forehead. “Now? I see its beauty; the strength in its age and the sensation of sheer power it gives. It’s truly a physical representation of you. And I love it, because you love it and I love you. And even though I was angry that day, this tree oversaw the most important day of my life.”

Hoseok sits next to you, resting his back against the old trunk and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, tugging you closer to him. For minutes, neither of you speak in the comfortable silence that falls between the two of you. You focus simply on the soothing sensation of his fingers as they trace invisible words against your arm while the forest sings a gentle song for you both.

“Show me some magic, wife.” He whispers into your ear, his cool nose pressing against your temple momentarily before warm lips replace it. You didn’t perform magic very often, which was probably a surprise to the other kingdoms. But you simply didn’t feel a need, and it was rude to use it unnecessarily. Which meant Hoseok hadn’t witnessed many spells from you over the years.

But you feel like pleasing him today, wanting to impress him with something pretty that wouldn’t pull too much energy. Whispering a quiet request to the Ancient Oak you’re pressed against, you breathe a simple spell under your breath.

Immediately, tiny balls of light drift down from the leaves above you to form the impression of two people, standing together in a handfasting ceremony. You don’t need to explain to him who it is a representation of, and instead you both watch quietly as the couple lean forward and kiss.

“I wish I had kissed you back then, though it would have seemed strange. I wish I could kiss you now, in public.” Hoseok sighs, sadness weaving its way in and you resolve to make him smile. Shifting around, you playfully bite at his neck with your blunt incisors, the sensation probably just a tickle to him compared to his sharp teeth.

Sure enough, he lets out a giggle that’s far too cute for a man as regal as him before wrapping his arms tightly around shoulders and chest, trapping you between his thighs as he shifts. His hands move down to your sides, insistent fingers tickling along the sensitive areas and causing you to almost shriek with laughter.

The sounds of glee and happiness echo around the quiet grove, and you feel a shift in the magic around you. It’s fond and filled with a sense of joy at the love between yourself and your husband. Your stomach twists with cheer at the knowledge that nature approves.

After a few minutes of laughter and play, you lean against him as you both take a breather. He presses a kiss to your neck softly before letting his fangs run over your skin, the sharpness almost a scratch over the delicate flesh.

“You’re adorable, with your little baby fangs. In fact, they’re not even baby fangs. Vampire children have sharper teeth than that.” He teases, letting his lips press against the soft skin there. You smile and click your fingers, causing him to yelp as a zing of magic zaps his ass.

“Mean,” He mutters before kissing your neck once more, his hands stroking along your stomach lowly. “I wonder what our children’s teeth would look like.” The words are quiet, almost as if he spoke them out loud without thinking.

The way you both freeze suddenly let you think that is likely exactly what happens before he’s squeezing tight, pressing his forehead against your shoulder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

Children remained a sore point between the two of you. It was something neither of you had ever truly considered when you had first wedded, the thought of sleeping with him abhorrent. It had remained a non-thought for thirty years once you finally got together, until twenty years ago when you had both decided to try.

A pregnancy had occurred almost immediately, pleasing the both of you while simultaneously terrifying you. It was understood between you both that Hoseok would only see his child half of the year, but the two of you had wanted so badly to have a family. Upon learning of your pregnancy, the two of you had agreed to announce it, and your feelings, to both kingdoms at the halfway stage.

There was little chance of miscarriage at that point, and it had been an exciting prospect. A child would surely unify both races, or at least be a good starting point to true reconciliation.

And so at the three month mark, Hoseok had left back to Sanguinus in his carriage and you had watched from your window, a hand resting on your flat stomach. The knowledge that he would likely be back in time for the birth had been a consolation, even if he was sad to not experience the joys of watching you grow fat and heavy with his child.

And then the curse had kicked in.

It had been a heavy heart, and heavier tears, that you had written to your husband. The note had been simple, coded in case anyone read it due to the rarity of correspondence between you both.

‘Dear Husband,

The little bird did not make it. No spell could combat the curse that took it.

I am sorry.’

Neither of you had considered the curse in terms of children. Not until it was too late. Not until you were no longer pregnant.

The curse demanded that you spend six months apart, causing physical pain to ensure it was obeyed. As his child, the babe in your stomach was half him and the curse could not distinguish between this. The pain had not been as strong as it was with Hoseok himself, but it had been too much for the tiny life you’d carried.

You had mourned for six months, until he had arrived and then you had mourned with him in private. There had never been another attempt, and there likely never would be. Your dreams of a family had died that day.

Resting a hand on his arm, you cuddle further into him before taking a deep breath. You have not spoken of children in twenty years. “I think they would be heart wrenchingly adorable, with tiny fangs and little spells that would pop and crack.”

As you speak, the lights spin in a dizzying dance before forming two small children. The both of you watch in a despondent silence as they bound along the meadow sweet grass, a simple and sweet dream that cannot ever be.

Hoseok doesn't say anything for a few long minutes, only swallowing thickly. “You would have made a wonderful mother. I still regret asking you to do it, the pain you suffered while I was not there. It wasn't worth it.”

Shaking your head, you shift in his arms until you can see his arresting profile. His eyes are a low, dull red that glisten in the evening sun that peeks through the trunks of the forest.

“No, don't say that. It hurt, but we were happy in that moment. Let's not resent the young one we were forced to lose.” Resting a hand against his chest, you press your forehead to the warm skin of his neck and inhale the soothing scent.

You both simply rest there after that, neither feeling in the mood to interrupt the sad stillness in the air with another topic. The unfortunate fact, is that no matter how much you love each other, your story will always be one of sadness and heartache, tinged with loneliness.

“Would you like to dance?” Hoseok speaks suddenly, the question hovering in the air. Looking up, you note his gaze focused firmly on the light children while a sombre expression is painted on his beautiful face.

Biting your lip, your own gaze tracks around the quiet clearing. “Are you sure? I mean...if you are too upset...and we have no music.”

Your husband laughs darkly before nuzzling your hair affectionately. “This is supposed to be a place of happiness. Let's not sour your sacred tree with sad thoughts. And fear not my queen, we have never had anything but each other. We shall make our own music.”

He stands at that, hands dusting off his breeches before he reaches out one hand to you, pose elegant even when he doesn't intend it to. Looking into his eyes, softened by your mutual sad memories, you nod once before letting him pull you up.

The two of you move into a ballroom dance position with the ease of decades of training, but when you dance it's with the slow passion of lovers. He doesn’t swing you into a complicated waltz or anything, but simply rocks you in a slow circle, his hand running along the laces of your dress at the small of your back reassuringly while his cheek rests on your head.

“I love you. I don't feel that I tell you that often enough. I don't get the chance to tell you that often enough. But I do. I love you fiercely, and if I could find a way to end the curse I would.” Hoseok's voice is quiet, yet strained with emotion he can't possibly vocalise.

Emotion that resonates in your chest almost painfully nonetheless.

“I know. I know Hoseok. I love you just as strongly. It is so hard, to not ask how you are when dealing with your delegation. To find out if you are sad or happy. I wish we could end the curse too, but you know as well as I do that it would just result in more war.” The words are hushed and you cannot help the silent tears that track down your face.

Hoseok holds you even tighter as the light children skip by you, his gaze focused firmly on them and when he speaks, his voice cracks. “I want a life with you so badly. I want to raise a family with you. Neither of us started the war, so why must we be punished even though we have fallen in love? Isn't that the ultimate unification? I wish I could find the Faerie Queen and request an audience, plead our case to her and beg for her to let us love each other openly and permanently.”

You sniffle at his words, bringing your hand up to wipe at your tears pitifully before reaching up to pull his head down till he's resting on your shoulder. The dampness of your dress let's you know he's crying too and you curse anyone you can think of for causing him pain.

What good is being the Witch Queen if you can't even solve your husbands sadness?

“She would never do that Hoseok. It's a punishment, remember? She’d probably laugh with delight at our pain.” He says nothing, acknowledging your words with his silence.

Placing your hands on his slim waist, you begin to hum a witch children's nursery rhyme to him while rocking him in slow and steady motions. He doesn't move at first, but eventually gives in and let's you dance with him in the quiet clearing.

“Let’s not cry anymore husband. You said so yourself, this is a happy place. Dance with me freely, while we have the chance to just be ourselves.” You plead softly, kissing his temple and letting your lips remain there until he lifts himself up with a nod.

Hoseok doesn't say anything further, simply dances with you slowly in the shadow of the Ancient Oak while the tiny children of light dance around your legs playfully.

If you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine it was perfect, and you vowed to find a way to dance with him in the way you both wanted.

-

Something that had been at the forefront of your mind for a while, had been been the fact that this year marked your 100th anniversary with Hoseok. Neither of you had celebrated a single anniversary in the past, mainly because the day Hoseok arrived was always the day the curse activated and so you both were more concerned with getting him rest.

But this year, you’d wanted to celebrate it in some way at least. It was an important milestone, not only in your relationship with each other but also in the relations between both kingdoms. Your anniversary had marked one hundred years of peace between the vampires and witches, and you had decided before he had even arrived to finally celebrate this.

Not only this, but his sadness in the Oak Grove had spurred you on to do something to make him happy, to bring a smile to his face and show him that you loved him and cared for him. It was hard to do that most of the time, with public displays of affection almost impossible.

The time there had inspired you though, and as such you had arranged for an event to occur in the final week of Hoseok’s time here. He had been made completely unaware of it through a lot of subtle subterfuge and instead you had worked behind the scenes with your advisors and event organisers.

The result had culminated in today. You were pleased beyond words that Hoseok hadn’t clicked onto what was happening, instead just presuming that your event meetings were something to do with governance. The peril of having a wife who was a ruler perhaps.

Still, he’d likely just been expecting another day of wandering the castle at his leisure or something. Apparently, he’d made friends with the Captain of the Guard, Jeon Jungkook, and was on the verge of being allowed to participate in military drills on the castle grounds.

It was almost sweet how excited he’d got when telling you, and your heart had overflowed with warmth for him at the fact he seemed to have finally made a friend of some sort here after so long. As your Captain, you were well acquainted with Jungkook, and knew him to be young but well trained and with a good soul and heart.

His father had been the Captain for your own, finally retiring ten years ago to spend more time with his aging family. Jungkook, already heavily involved in the Hekatalian Army, had simply slotted into place with ease. He’d practically been bred for it, with incredibly strong battle magic to boot.

As such, you had grown to know him well when discussing your military and regimental training for the soldiers who resided here in the castle. He was a sweet guy beneath the regalia, and you knew that he was exceptionally easy to get on with which made you feel comfortable in the knowledge that he’d taken Hoseok under his wing.

Hoseok had actually woken you up today though with soft kisses that brushed along your shoulder lightly, the sensation almost tickling. You’d thought for a moment that perhaps he was just feeling amorous, he often was in the morning, but instead he’d kept his touches innocent and sweet.

Once he’d been sure you’d fully woken, a content hum leaving your throat as you cuddled closer into his warmth, he’d laid his head back down on the pillow and ran his hand along your exposed stomach. “There’s a lot of activity in this castle this morning wife.”

You make a faux surprised sound, recognising from his tone that he knows somethings up. While your castle is always busy, you have no doubt that there are even more servants hurrying around today than normal. They had a ballroom to decorate and exquisite meals to cook for the guests who would be arriving later today. Given his enhanced senses, he could probably hear all the hustle and bustle around the place.

Rolling in his arms, you gaze at him wide eyed with an innocence he is evidently not falling for given his narrowed eyes. “I don’t know husband. Why is there more activity than normal?” You ponder playfully, tapping your lips before grinning as he begins to tickle you mercilessly.

“Wife. What is happening?” He laughs out, kissing your cheek when you both finish. You simply watch him for a moment, giving him adoring eyes as you note the flyaway strands of his hair from where it has fallen after his sleep.

Tugging him back down, you face him quietly for a moment as you slide a leg between his own. He shivers slightly at your cold feet, giving you a slight glare but says nothing further as he waits for you to speak.

“We are hosting a ball today. A masquerade ball.” You smile at him, watching as those strong brows come together in confusion. If you looked hard enough, you could probably see his brain working behind those pretty eyes of his.

“Why? It’s just a Saturday, unless there’s some special event I’m not aware of?” After one hundred years of living in Hekatalia for half a year at at time, Hoseok had long grown used to the cultural holidays and events that witches celebrated. He particularly enjoyed Summer Solstice, and often lamented on the fact he could never experience a Winter Solstice with you.

“Well...I don’t know if you remember but this year marks one hundred since the curse was activated. A hundred years of peace between the races and kingdoms. And one hundred years since we married. So I organised a masquerade ball to celebrate this and have invited members from all kingdoms to join us. We have werewolves, faeries and representatives from Sanguinus here too.” He looks at you with eyes that are wide with shock.

“Really? And they’re all coming here? Wow, you’re being brave hoping no one will fight.” He chuckles, the corner of his lips turning up in amusement as he rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling.

“Well...that’s why it’s a masquerade ball. So no one can tell who is what. Instead, it will just be a joining of peoples to celebrate a monumental achievement,” You pause for a moment before leaning over to press a sweet kiss to his shoulder. “And it also means that we can dance in public. With a legitimate excuse. No one will complain about the queen and her prince consort dancing at a ball to celebrate one hundred years of marriage.”

He looks at you slowly, and you can see the flurry of emotions painting across his face. It’s something that you’ve both wanted to do for so long and your stomach flutters at the prospect of being able to show him of like you have always wanted, even if no one realises that there is true love hidden beneath the faux smiles.

“I can dance with you? When others can see?” The soft and hesitant tone to his voice breaks your heart, causing you to lift yourself until your lips are pressed together in a kiss that is chaste but full of love.

“Yes my love. For a night, we can pretend.” He gives a bright smile then, his entire face lighting up with a sense of joy and merriment that makes you feel content with life. There’s something particularly satisfying about making him smile, and you’re sure that one day you will figure out what that is. But for now, you just enjoy making him happy when you can.

Climbing out of bed, you head towards the door that separates your rooms before turning and giving him a mysterious smile that has a brow rising as he sits up. There’s a pause as you simply admire the stunningly beautiful sight your husband makes on the bed, the red silk sheets giving him a sultry look.

“Attendants will be coming to get a suit and mask sorted for you for the ball. I have meetings to attend unfortunately as the kingdom waits for no ball, but I shall meet you at the staircase tonight. I apologise that we cannot eat together, but there will be food being served at the ball we can partake,” You let your eyes drag over his body slowly, sucking your lip between your teeth and letting it out slowly to let him see how he affects you. “I expect you to be looking particularly handsome tonight.”

He gives a wicked grin, fangs lengthening before your eyes while his eyes spark with a crimson flash. “I will make sure to put extra effort into my appearance. We wouldn’t want it to look like the witch queen has a poor husband now.”

You simply laugh as he wiggles his brows before exiting to your room, excitement for the evening bubbling in your stomach.

-

Your day passes slowly as a result of your enthusiasm, and you can tell that your advisors are amused at your unusually happy demeanour. You’re normally far more careful to maintain a queenly expression when dealing with kingdom matters, even if you spend more time with these people than you do your own husband.

But the elation you feel at finally being able to celebrate your relationship with your husband in public, even if people think it only fake, is too much. To the point that you find yourself not concentrating on your duties and instead decide to postpone your meeting, allowing your advisors an early day to spend with their families or alternatively prepare for the festivities tonight.

Instead, you head towards the ballroom and take in the preparations for yourself. All around you, witches spell decorations to fly into place, sticking to the wall or hovering in the air perfectly. It’s been a long time since you had hosted any sort of event, and it all fills your veins with fizzing excitement at it all.

“Your Majesty, the preparations are almost complete. Will you accompany me back to your rooms and we can have you fitted into your outfit while we make sure your hair and makeup is perfect.” Soyeon smiles at your demurely, bowing slightly as she walks up to you where you stood in the middle of the hall.

Looking down at her, you give a nod of your head and smile back as you follow, hurrying your pace until you are walking abreast with your beloved servant. “Did you follow my advice?” You ask quietly, keeping your voice low so that others waking past.

Soyeon glances to you out of the corner of her eye and you spy the smile of glee that she fights to hold in. Almost immediately, responding excitement bubbles in your stomach and you can’t help but grab at her arm lightly as you giggle.

“Oh, I hope your dress is beautiful. You will look phenomenal Soyeon, truly. What if you find a man tonight? Or a woman? Don’t forget about me when you’re all loved up!” You pout at her playfully, causing her to roll her eyes while a flush of red brushes her cheeks prettily.

“I doubt that will happen Your Majesty. The dress is adequate and I will just enjoy my time there. Thank you for letting me have the night to myself, and for inviting me to the ball. I can never tell you how much I appreciate your kindness.” She whispers fervently, eyes flicking around the hallway to see if there is anyone who could see your affection.

There would likely be people who became jealous and bitter at how you favoured Soyeon, but you were reaching the point where you were beyond caring what others thought. When you were going to live as long as you were, surely there came a point when others opinions would matter little?

Entering your rooms, you pause to glance at the closed wooden door that separated your rooms and bit your lips with a sigh. Soyeon waits for a moment before pressing a hand to your lower back, encouraging you into the room where she begins to undress you quickly.

“I’m sure he will look beautiful, Your Majesty. Prince Hoseok is a handsome man, and you are an incredibly lucky woman.” She murmurs as she carefully folds your dress, ready for it to back into your closet.

Standing before her in simply your underwear, you watch as she takes a new corset out of your wardrobe and wraps it around your waist, tugging at the laces tightly until you are grunting out from the force. Idle talk is made between you both as she continues on, piecing together a dress of sumptuous ruby red that had been outlined in subtle, shimmering silver.

It’s only once your dress is finally complete, giving her a final spin to get the nod of approval, that you sit and allow her to arrange your hair to perfection. Tiny silver flowers get dotted throughout before she sits an exquisite diadem on your forehead, resting the ends in your hair.

The final touch is your makeup, and once she has finished painting a masterpiece on your face, you stand and admire her work in the mirror after she places the mask on you. It’s red, with silver glittering through in elegant lines and covers the portion of your face from your nose to just above your eyebrows. Giving her a huge grin, you turn slowly and admire everything she has put together.

“Perfect Soyeon, you have a true eye for fashion and makeup. Now go, you must get ready yourself. I can make my way to the staircase, he should be waiting by now.” You peer at the clock on the mantlepiece, noting the time is past when you had asked him to wait.

A quick glance out of the window lets you see carriages slowly filtering through the courtyard and guests dressed in the finest dresses and suits entering the castle. Smiling to yourself, you rest a hand on your chest as you watch for a few moments before looking yourself over in the mirror once more.

The dress is cinched in at the waist, your curves emphasised by the corset while your breasts are more prominent than they would normally be due to cut of the material. Silk is smooth and cool to your touch as you run your fingers along the material that rests at your stomach, noting with pleasure the way the dress flatters your figure.

Tonight, there will be no brows raised at your choice to wear silver and red. For it would be expected to wear the colours of both kingdoms, given that this is a celebration of peace between the two.

Making your way through the hallways, you tilt your head when you begin to hear the soft sounds of a string quartet filtering through the quietness and you can’t help the sway of your hips to the sounds. As you near, the music gets louder along with raucous laughter and constant talking between your guests.

Reaching the top of the elegant marble staircase that takes up the grand entrance, you pause for a moment to rest a hand on the marble edging and look over the room. The crystal chandelier is glowing with a beautiful luminance, casting shadows that are thrown around the room beautifully while more candles light up every corner below.

The center of the room has now been taken up with an elegant ice sculpture, a replica of the Ancient Oak that inhabits the Oak Grove. A few guests entering through the doors notice you above them and you spy as they immediately begin to gossip amongst themselves while giving you a courteous bow of the head.

But your attention is caught immediately by the lone figure at the bottom of the stairs to your right, his figure straight and regal. His outfit matches yours perfectly, with black trousers clinging to his legs and black leather boots winding their way up his calves, silver buckles and lining matching the deep red laces.

His waistcoat is charcoal while his shirt looks to be black silk, an equally dark tie around his neck that fits perfectly. A deep, velvet crimson jacket sits on his shoulders and you smile at the silver and black patterns that run through it subtly. Hoseok’s own mask is a perfectly replica of your own, and you feel pride at the knowledge that no one would ever mistake you both as being anything other than the couple of importance tonight.

Ignoring the guests as they arrive, you keep your gaze firmly on him as he rolls his head on his shoulders to relieve some tension before he lets out a sigh you could probably hear if you had his senses. But then he pauses, and you can tell he’s spotted you.

Almost immediately, a bright smile takes over the only part of his face that is visible and your stomach twists pleasantly at the sight. Ideally, he shouldn’t look too happy to see you but you find yourself uncaring as you slowly make your way down the stairs, one hand holding your skirts to keep them from trailing while the other glides along the bannister.

Hoseok moves to greet you immediately, bowing low until you reach him upon which he reaches out for your hand. Placing it within his, you give him a simple smile that tells him so much and he grins in response as he wraps your arm around his.

“You look beautiful wife.” He whispers, his voice as low as he can make it while still ensuring that you win. As he speaks, he glances around for any other vampires but it’s futile with the masks that cover everyone’s faces.

“And so do you husband. I’m glad that you followed my request.” You tease lightly, voice bubbly with glee and he lets out a low laugh as his head nods forward, his perfectly styled hair swept off his forehead.

“Of course. Shall we enter our ball Your Majesty?” He states loudly, drawing attention from those who are entering the castle for the first time. Smiling demurely at the crowd, you nod your head and move with him to the doors of the ballroom.

Inside, the room from earlier is ablaze with life and you pause to take it in. Thousands of candles hover high in the air, their wicks burning brightly in the final rays of evening sun that shines through the stained glass windows while their corresponding partners dot the room at various points.

All along the edges are tables and chairs, allowing guests the chance to sit and relax while the left side is taken up with one long table that is currently piled high with exquisite food. Almost instantly your mouth starts to water at the sight and you desperately want to pull Hoseok over there to eat, but you know that you must greet your guests first.

Decades of royalty training has imprinted wel upon Hoseok and you as you make your way around the room, talking to guests all of all walks of life and all races. The vampires are a little cold towards you but you are surprised by how genial they are overall, leaving you to wonder if perhaps the relations were always a little colder on your side than his.

Their conversations with you are geared more towards their surprise at exploring your kingdom, and you wonder how strange it must be to some of them. Travellers from Sanguinus and Hekatalia did not visit each others lands very often, and it was a tiny hope of yours that once relations warmed up between the two there could be the opportunity for more travelling.

Hoseok had told you many wonderful tales of the land Sanguinus held, from the rolling desert planes of the west to the rocky, snow topped mountains of the east. Hekatalia was not as diverse in its geography, and instead was simply covered in either forests or fields. Nature was simple here and had always been cultivated into magic used by its inhabitants.

Land like Hoseok’s was wilder, with the magic going haywire and causing vast differences in land and temperature. The way he talked about his home, and the wistfulness in his voice made you long to visit them so much. But you knew that was definitely impossible.

A queen simply did not take holidays in land that was not her own.

Your own subjects were polite towards Hoseok thankfully, giving him a regal bow and affording him the same respect they give you which pleases you. They don’t make for the most mentally stimulating conversations however. Unfortunately, most Hekatalian citizens are far too polite to spend too long talking to their queen.

If they spent too long with you, then it could look like you favour them over others which could generate a whole host of issues neither you nor they want.

It was the visitors from neither kingdom that are the nicest however, and you find yourself smiling truthfully when a group of werewolf guests compliment your home while also congratulating you both on a long marriage.

A rather upfront werewolf asks for a dance with you later and you cannot help the soft snort of laughter at his boldness. You don’t even need to look at your husband to see that he is bristling, metaphorical fur on edge as he gives the most polite and yet rudest smile you’ve ever seen on him.

He’s the perfect husband of a monarch however and says nothing that could be a diplomatic incident. Though you won’t lie, he probably didn’t endear himself either but the tenseness that you can feel in his arm lets you know it’s probably the best you’re going to be able to get with him.

The Master of Ceremonies officially announces the beginning to the ball and you watch from the side as couples from all over the room began to line up on the dance floor. Glancing to Hoseok, you noted the way his eyes focused firmly on the people dancing to the smooth beat of the music and give a small smile before nudging him gently.

“Would you like to dance husband?” You ask softly, your voice barely heard over the soaring music of the string quartet and the excitable chatter of the guests. He jerks at the sound of your voice, looking to you and you marvel for a moment at how astonishingly beautiful he looks. Even with half his face covered.

If anything, the mask makes the exquisite line of his jaw even more prominent and you swallow thickly at the sight of him in the golden glow of the nearby candles. His tongue flicks out, wetting those plush lips before his mouth kicks up into a tiny smile as he nods.

“I would be honoured, wife.” At that, he takes the lead and moves into the centre of the ballroom. Almost immediately, you feel the people surrounding you shift as awareness of who has entered their midst seeps in, but you can’t focus on anything other than Hoseok.

His spine is straight, and he almost towers above you in a manner that would be frightening if you didn’t know him. But the warm, tender way he rests his hand against your lower back and holds your other, with a touch more sensual than he perhaps should, has you feeling safe and protected by him.

You have no doubt that if anyone tried to hurt you right now, he would fight to his final breath to save you even if he is in the knowledge that you are more than capable yourself. A desperate urge rises within you suddenly, so deep and strong that you have to bite your lip to stop it, to rest your head against his enticing chest.

Instead, he leads you in a dance that is centuries old, his feet moving in perfect succession around the floor as you follow him with trained steps. You have no idea the spectacle you both make, and you don’t even notice the way people look between themselves with speculative brows raised.

You don’t know, because your gaze is firmly trapped in his like a moth to a flame. The ballroom almost goes hazy as you dance, bodies moving together as one until you can’t tell where you end and he begins. His own breath is coming a little faster from the exertion, but also from the sheer feelings you both portray with a simple gaze.

It would shock you both to see how you were dancing, as if no one else in the room even existed and with touches that spoke of an intimacy learnt over decades.

You both dance through endless songs, the hunger in your stomach battling with the need in your veins to take him away and let him savour you in a much more intimate way than the light affection he looks at you with now. In fact, it’s only when a passing dancer accidentally bumps into your back that the two of you are broken out of your reverie, blinking rapidly before looking away from each other with heated cheeks.

Pulling away, Hoseok quietly directs you to table of food that lines the side of the hall. Smiling at him shyly, you wonder if this is how lovers who court openly feel.

It’s at the table that you both fall back into your usual roles of cold politeness, the both of you separating to forage for food in an attempt to dispel any notions that your guests may have. From the furtive glances between you both, you worry for a moment that perhaps you may have a problem on your hand with gossip.

Gossip tended to twist things into negativity, and most stories became wildly obscure compared to their origins. There was every chance that after tonight, you could have five secret love children with him if you were not careful.

Though positive reception to that would perhaps precipitate being open about your relationship.

In an effort to deflect any attention, you spend the next hour moving from one group of people to the next on your own, giving genial smiles and accepting compliments about your home, your kingdom, the ball and your husband with a grace that has been trained into you since birth.

It is tiring however, and you forgot how intensive events such as balls are. A quick glance at the grand clock that hangs on the centre wall lets you know that you have been here for three hours already and the soreness of your feet tell you that it has been a very long three hours. You have the biggest urge to simply throw your heels away and go barefoot, but that would most definitely raise brows amongst the aristocracy who dance and chat around you.

“You look tired Your Majesty,” Comes a deep voice from next to you, and you look across with a carefully blank expression. It’s the wolf from before, the only giveaway to his identity being the extravagant black and white mask that only covers half of his face. You presume him to be handsome underneath the mask, given the beautiful jawline you can see at the moment. “But would it be remiss of me to request that dance I asked for earlier?”

He holds out a hand and you pause, eyes flickering around to find Hoseok only to fail in finding the black, silver and red outfit anywhere. Bowing your head regally, you place your hand in his own and allow him to lead you out to the dance floor.

The song now is slower, more suited to intimate couples you note as you look around you and you feel a pang in your stomach for your husband. You would love to be able to slow dance with him around the hall, but figure that you have danced enough with him for the moment.

It certainly would not take a genius to note the difference in your dance with this stranger, given the stiffness of your posture and the large gap you make sure to maintain between you both. Giving him a stiff smile, you decide to be polite and make small conversation.

“Forgive me, I don’t know your name.” Pausing, you leave him plenty of space to fill the opening and he takes it with ease, a sweet, gummy smile on his face.

“Min Yoongi, of the Lunatus Pack. And you need no introduction, my beautiful witch queen.” His tone is playful and you can’t help but smile at his infectious happiness, letting him twirl you around in an overly extravagant manner.

“Lunatus Pack? The ruling class of the Lupine nation. How interesting, I was told that no one high up in our werewolf brethen was able to make it tonight.” You ponder idly, eyes glancing around the room to try and find a red mask.

Yoongi hums lowly, his eyes focused on something over your shoulder that you can’t see and if you’d been paying attention, you would note the way his lips kick up in an amused smirk. “I’m not high up in the Pack, that is likely why. But how could I resist a chance to visit Hekatalia and see the infamous Witch Queen and her Vampire Prince?”

Leaning away, you raise a brow at him sardonically. “Are we a tourist attraction now or something? Interesting, most people in my kingdom seem patently uninterested in my husband.”

He lets out a quiet laugh, before spinning you suddenly, his hands much lower than you were comfortable with. Lifting them, you give him a firm look that has him tittering with bemusement. “An attraction? No. But you are famous. And does that mean they are as uninterested in him as you are in each other? Because if so, he must be exceptionally popular here.”

You say nothing for a few beats of music, letting an awkward silence fill the gap until you finally question what he means by that. Another laugh leaves him, and you find yourself feeling slightly uncomfortable, even though he is perfectly nice.

“I had been told that the Witch Queen hated her Vampire Prince husband, and that the feelings were mutual. And yet...the way you danced with each other tonight. That was with an intimacy borne of lovers, and the way you looked at each other reminded me of how my parents look at each other,” He stalled for a moment, hands tightening in their place on you. “I do not believe you hate each other as much as you wish everyone to believe. Nor do I think others believe that anymore, and nor do I think it’s such a terrible thing.”

Panic stirs in your stomach at his words and you look for Hoseok with anxiety flitting in your veins. That is, until his words sink into your skin and you look at him in a new light. “What do you mean? We were married under duress, and our peoples would never accept a love between two races.”

The words sound weak even to you, causing him to snort. “Oh sure. Maybe a hundred years ago that would have been true. But there have been one hundred, long, years of peace between your peoples. I’m sure there will be people unhappy...but you seem to be a beloved queen. I doubt your people would begrudge you finding happiness and love in the marriage you were forced into, with the man you will spend an eternity with.”

You can’t find the words to respond to that, emotion choking your throat tightly and you blink rapidly at the ceiling to hold back tears. Was he right? Would people accept Hoseok for you? Could you love openly and freely?

“And it would be a truly, stupid man to not want to love a woman as beautiful and kind as you.” He speaks these words louder for some reason and you frown, until you suddenly feel a warmth against your back that is familiar and comforting.

“Hello Min Yoongi. Strange to see a Lunatus Prince here. I’ve been talking to the Captain of the Guard, Jeon Jungkook, and apparently no one from Lunatus responded that they would be joining us today.” Hoseok’s voice is freezingly polite, each syllable bitten out and you look at him out of the corner of your eye.

He’s not normally this rude, but you note with amusement the way his eyes glow a soft red under his mask while his kissable lips are pressed into a straight line. Yoongi lets go of you with a smile, bowing at his waist to press a kiss to your hand in thanks.

“Apologies Your Majesty. Our dance has been cut short, and please forgive me for concealing my identity. I’m sure you can understand the need to simply be free sometimes,” He gives you a warm smile that you find yourself responding with but he nods to your husband. “Remember my advice. I wish you both well for now and the future.”

At that, he turns and departs, winding his way through the crowd. You watch him go quietly before turning to Hoseok, giggling inside at the sight of the glare on his face. It pained you to not be able to tease him so openly, but if you were correct in your belief, then Hoseok was jealous. Something he never had to consider normally, as even with the disdain for your husband the people of Hekatalia still respected your marriage vows.

“Is there a problem husband?” You ask, voice airy with just a hint of playfulness that causes his eyes to narrow at you. The sight of his jaw clenching and the cherry in his eyes has your thighs squeezing in response, breath hitching every so slightly.

His eyes flicker down to your mouth, noting the way your lips part before they drag to your eyes, no doubt blown out at the blatant display of possessiveness your husband is portraying. Almost instantly, his own jaw clenches and you almost moan out at the sight of the muscles working beneath smooth skin.

“I believe I am ready to retire for the night wife. Are you ready to retire?” He asks, his tone perfectly polite and neutral without a hint of the blatant lust in his eyes. Nodding in a daze, you give an affirmative and begin to follow him out of the ballroom.

It’s infuriating how slow you get through the crowd, continuously accepting praise for the event along with gracious goodbyes and wishes of well being to you both until finally you are free. Soyeon is stood in the corner of the entranceway, laughing beautifully with a young woman in a dress of emerald green and you watch them both momentarily before moving on.

The both of you ascend the staircase with far more grace and poise than you are feeling, and you are thankful that it is common for the host of the ball to leave early. Fashionably late to arrive and fashionably early to leave. It would continue on for hours in the ballroom, but you find yourself uncaring.

Not when you are watching the way your husband strides down the hallway, his long legs eating up the ground while his shoulders sway in an unconscious swagger. The vampires are always an elegant race, but your husband moves with the predatory hunger of a tiger shifter.

It makes your legs quiver with anticipation while a slick wetness dampens the silk between your legs already, breathing a little harder than normal. You know he can hear it, and it turns you on even more to know that he’s likely enjoying the sounds of your need.

Reaching your quarters, you watch with hungry eyes as Hoseok pauses outside of his door before opening it slowly and turning to face you. His mask is still pressed to his face, and you have the strongest urge to take it off him to let you see the captivating beauty that had stolen your heart long ago.

Instead, you enter his room quietly, your demeanour meek in the way that he so loves and you hear the slow hiss of breath from behind you as he stays where he is, a quiet hitting sound letting you know he’s let his head flop back against the wooden door until you hear the soft click of it closing.

There’s no sounds now, the faint whisper of music that had drifted from the ballroom disappearing once the door closes and you whisper a spell of silence to keep the rooms quiet. A silencing spell is normally placed around them anyway, but you have a feeling that tonight is going to be particularly special and you shiver with anticipation.

Turning slowly, you watch as your husband rests against the door with his gaze firmly focused on you. Taking the initiative to keep quiet for him, you run your eyes over his slim body and can’t help the automatic flex of your hands as they itch to touch him.

You don’t even need to see him well to know that his sensitive eyes caught that tiny movement, not when the corner of his lips turn up in a smirk that speaks of sex and desire.

“Did you enjoy your little dance with Min Yoongi, wife?” He asks, tone carefully neutral and you watch him vigilantly to try and detect his tiny tells. Your husband has always been phenomenal at hiding his emotions, and with the extravagant mask covering his face you find yourself at a loss.

“It was acceptable. He asked earlier and I finally accepted. It would have been rude not to.” You could dissuade his jealousy easily by simply explaining your conversation with the werewolf prince, but you find yourself unwilling. Because it is so rare to see him possessive like this, and you desperately want him to ravage you the way he obviously wants to.

Your words do nothing to appease him and you watch with pleasure as he bares his teeth, jaw working and you can tell he can’t figure out what to do for a moment. It’s pleasing, working him like this in tiny nudges until he will give you what you want. In your kingdom, Hoseok was practically powerless while you had the strain of unlimited power.

It was with great pleasure and excitement that you readily handed the reins of power to Hoseok in the bedroom, succumbing to his desires and wants with a submission that you could never reveal in your daily life. Which is why when he begins to stalk towards you, his eyes a dark crimson, that you shudder with need.

“Very well wife. I would be an unsuitable husband if I dictate who you could speak to, and I have no interest in hobbling you in that manner. It would be unseemly of me to undercut you like that. But I find myself with a desperate need to show you that you are mine, no matter what anyone else in that damnable ballroom believes.” He growls, voice low in his throat until each word is almost rasping out of his throat.

Hoseok is upon you now, moving so close that there is nary a centimetre between you both, forcing you to have to crane your head back on your neck to see him. He doesn’t let up, barely lowering his head and you almost whine with need for him.

“Am I going to get my good girl tonight? Or am I going to have punish you for being naughty?” You’ve never understood how vampires can do that strange hissing sound that they make, but the way it winds through his words and deep into the primal fear you have has your eyelashes fluttering shut while you let out the tiniest moan.

“I’ll be a good girl for you. I swear.” Mostly.

He says nothing for a moment, simply watching you with eyes that speak of a great need that only you can satisfy. You almost whine at him petulantly as he smirks down at you, fully aware that he has you exactly where he wants you.

“Good. Now, let’s see what is only for my eyes.” He stands back suddenly, leaving you cold and desperate for his touch on your skin. You’re momentarily confused until you follow his eyes down to your dress, noting the way your breasts are pushed together enticingly in the beautiful fabric.

Chewing on your lip while giving him big doe eyes, you reach behind yourself and tug on the ribbons that keep your dress in place. It’s hard to undress yourself, but Soyeon has always made it so that it is possible if you try hard enough.

Only, the position must set off something deep within your husband because he darts forward faster than your eyes can track and there’s a sudden, loud rip of fabric that echoes in the room. Pausing, you look down with widened eyes to see the beautiful dress torn open, silk hanging in tatters to leave your breasts exposed under his watchful gaze.

The tight corset that holds your waist in tightly prevents him from seeing the full expanse of your chest and he bares his teeth in annoyance at the sight. That doesn’t stop him from lowering his head though, trailing his tongue along your collarbones in a molten trail of lust that has your knees quaking as you grasp onto his jacket.

Your husband has always known how to use his mouth to turn you into a wreck under him, like a god of desire whose sole purpose is to simultaneously torture and send you into another plane of existence with pleasure.

That talented mouth is currently sucking a deep bruise into the flesh above your breasts, his hands cupping the fleshy mounds while his thumbs circle the hardened nubs of your nipples, the feeling almost painful until you groan at him, tugging at his hair in a motion that can’t decide whether you want him to move away or get closer.

A dark laugh leaves him, his breath brushing against the wet trails of your skin and causing you to shiver from the cold. At the movement, he abandons his oral assault on you to simply track his mouth back north, the sharpened points of his fangs scratching against your skin in a tantalising way.

In a brutal show of the strength his race is so famed for, Hoseok bends down and lifts you up until your breasts are level with his wandering mouth. A squeal of laughter leaves you as you grasp the strands of his silky hair tightly for balance while he focuses his attention on laving his cravings on your breasts, hot mouth licking and sucking any inch of skin he can reach until finally he’s sucking a nipple into his mouth, the sheer heat of his wet mouth causing your head to drop back as you gasp out.

The movement has you wobbling and he grunts, moving with a speed that still shocks you until you’re landing on the soft covers, the silk embracing your body in a cold that contrasts deeply with the heat of his mouth. Hoseok isn’t bothered by the change in position though and instead focuses again on the hardened bud, tongue flicking out to play with it but his lips wrap around it to suck deeply.

It’s almost as if your breasts are directly connected to your vagina as each pull of his mouth has a corresponding throb of your inner muscles until you whine softly, wanting to push at his head but knowing full well that he will punish you if you try and make him do what he doesn’t want to. And yet, the thought of the punishment has even more wetness trickling between your legs under your dress.

“Good girl.” He whispers against your skin and you want to cry in relief as he sits up, legs straddling your waist in a sight so sexy it makes you delirious with want. Hoseok smirks as your breath hitches before reaching forward and playing with the destroyed threads of your dress.

It’s with barely a flinch of effort on his face that he rips the dress from you in sections, tugging the ruined material out from under you to throw it in the corner. You pout lightly as he grasps the edge of the corset, playfulness taking the edge of his emotions in his eyes as he rips that too.

“They have laces for a reason husband.” You admonish lightly, raising a brow as you lay before him with nothing but a pair of damp silk panties on and your mask. He snorts in response, shrugging as he throws the corset away and looks upon your body like it’s a feast and he’s a starving man.

“You have assistants for a reason wife.” His words are quiet and unfocused, causing you to tut at him lightly. Hoseok’s eyes flicker to you at that, causing you to bite your lip in an innocent expression.

“So fucking beautiful. And mine.” He practically vibrates with possessiveness as he leans forward, using just a finger to snap your panties from you and leave you exposed to him completely. He doesn’t do anything to you for a moment though, instead just lets you feel the tantalising light touch of his breath against your centre and you wiggle slightly with unrestrained need.

Petal soft lips press to your inner thigh in response and you watch as he noses along the vulnerable flesh there, eyes flicking back to you to check your response before he lets the very tip of his tongue trail along a specific area. You don’t need him to tell you what he’s doing, and you groan softly at the knowledge that he’s licking along your artery.

He can likely hear the pounding of blood that echoes in your head, rushing through your body with your heightened emotions and it’s beyond exhilarating to know that he’s instinctively attracted to that spot. It should be frightening, but Hoseok has long since shown you that pain can be pleasurable when done right.

Which is why there’s a slight disappointment that dips your stomach when he abandons your thigh, nosing along the fine hair of your pubic bone until his tongue plays in the very spot you’ve been craving him this whole time. A low groan leaves him as he presses the flat of his tongue to your clit, dragging it up slowly before swirling the tip around the swollen bud in slow and steady circles.

Moaning deeply, you grasp at the sheets tightly as his tongue leads an assault of pleasure on your body that has your defences falling like dominoes with zero resistance. Each flick of his tongue, whether it’s the kitten light licks that have your hips jerking in repeated, short bursts of motion or the deep passes of his tongue that dip into your entrance with every movement.

He stops for a moment to press sticky kisses to your thigh once more, heated tongue licking along the sensitive flesh until you feel the tiniest prick that causes your leg to twitch in response. Lifting your head, you look down to see that he’s bitten down lightly, enough to cause a bead of blood to slowly trickle down your skin but not enough to be anything worrying.

Hoseok watches the dark liquid move with eyes that burn a bright crimson, the unfettered hunger in them making your inner muscles quiver with a need you vocalise with a broken call of his name. The sound breaks the trance he’d fallen into and he moves forward in an almost snake like movement to catch the drop on his tongue, following it back up at a languid pace until he wraps his mouth around the bite mark that is already healing.

With closed eyes, he tugs his mouth off to reveal the mesmeric profile that you love so dearly and your heart kicks at the sight as he nuzzles your skin almost affectionately. The softness vanishes though as he moves back to your centre, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking with an almost brutal level of strength until your mewling and babbling out phrases that you don’t even properly understand.

A long, elegant finger dips into your channel slowly, coating in the sticky fluid that leaks from you with each glide of his tongue before slipping into you with ease. The intrusion is pleasant, but you gasp for even more, needing to feel the burning stretch of him.

He lets out a laugh against you, pressing a kiss to the bud of pleasure that throbs with need before sliding a second finger into you. Each move of his hand has him twisting slightly, searching for that special spot inside you until his fingers rub against the bundle of nerves that rest on your inner walls.

Almost immediately you let out a wail of pleasure, hips pushing up to encourage him further and he lets out a primal growl as he presses a hand firmly down on your stomach, keeping you firmly in place.

“Hoseok please, please. I’ll be a good girl, please just...I need you.” You pant out needily, fingers reaching for him desperately and clenching with frustration when he darts out of the way with a smirk. His lower face is shining with your desire and he simply licks at his lips, taking in the unique taste of you as his fingers move in you slowly.

“Why should I? You seemed happy enough to flirt with another man earlier.” If you were being honest, you’d completely forgotten that Min Yoongi existed when you had Hoseok taking you to a whole new dimension in his bed right now, and you decided that you’d had enough playing games.

“I wasn’t. I would never. You’re the only man I want, I swear. Please Hoseok, husband. Please.” You beg, pleading with him to give him and just fuck you into tomorrow. He watches you closely, eyes back to being his usual brown but there’s no softness in them tonight.

Tonight, he looks every inch the regal vampire prince he is.

Baring his teeth, you whimper at the sight of his sharpened incisors and pout as he pulls his hand from you. Lifting it up, he looks at the strands of sticky liquid that stretch enticingly when he pulls his fingers apart.

Watching you closely, your inner muscles clench desperately around nothing as he slots them into his mouth and sucks them out slowly, eyes remaining focused on you the whole time. “You taste good wife. Will you let me taste more?”

The question is surprisingly civil given how annoyed he’d been earlier, but you note the way his eyes focus firmly on the elegant column of your throat and recognise his real question. Despite his earlier bite, Hoseok always made sure to have your permission before biting your neck. It was a visible area, and took a degree of trust to allow a vampire that close to somewhere so vulnerable.

Your response was simply to run a finger along the expanse of skin enticingly, letting it trail along the curve of your breast and stroking down your stomach before reaching the wetness of your clit. As your fingers begin to play with yourself, a rumbling growl vibrates from his chest and you grin at him in challenge.

“Wench.” He hisses out, tugging his jacket off before pulling his tie off and undoing the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt. Once the delicious view of his tan, toned chest is given to you, he simply undos the laces of his trousers and pushes them down his shapely thighs, unwilling to spend the time required to take off those intricate boots.

The sight of his cock bobbing in the air makes your mouth water while your inner muscles squeeze, craving the thick intrusion of him already. He smirks at the sight of your blatant want and strokes himself playfully, lips pouting at you mockingly as he tugs at his turgid length with long and practiced strokes.

A bead of pearlescent pre-cum at his tip is swiped along his thumb before he’s leaning forward, pressing it into your mouth and letting you suck the salty bitterness off his skin with a swirl of your tongue. He moans out quietly before leaning down and capturing your mouth in the first kiss of the night, his lips pressing against your firmly in a sign to not fight his dominance.

You grant him entrance to your mouth eagerly, opening up and sighing into him as his tongue slides along yours in a sensual dance. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you tug him closer and moan as he takes a thigh and wraps it around his waist, cock resting against your pubic bone as you grind against him in an attempt to gain some friction.

It takes only the slightest movement of Hoseok’s hips until his blunt head is pressing against your entrance and you break away from him to look down, the sight of him slowly pushing into you arousing beyond belief. You can’t help the way you clench down at the sight combined with the astonishingly pleasurable feeling of him stretching you.

He really shouldn’t feel like this every time you have sex, and yet he does.

“Oh...Hoseok.” You gasp out, your head falling back into the pillow as your body strains under him, tensing up as he bottoms out in you. Hoseok lets out a corresponding moan, soft and light as his head drops into your neck to get used to the sensation.

“Stop squeezing.” He snaps, nipping at your collarbone lightly and you shudder around him at the sensation, causing an immediate whine from him. Lifting his head, he glares at you with ruby eyes that promise retribution and you shiver with excited anticipation.

“Oh, is it going to be like that then?” Hoseok murmurs, eyes flickering over your face and before you can even respond, he pulls out until only the very tip of him remains in you before slamming back in with so much force, he almost shunts you up the bed to the headboard. Almost immediately you let out a wail of pleasure, the force of his movement pressing his hips into your clit with each thrust and sending sparks of desire that fizz through your veins before adding to the bubbling pit that’s building in your stomach.

Once he’s started, he doesn’t let up and each slap of Hoseok's hips against yours was so hard, so forceful that it felt almost bruising. Your body jerked upwards with each movement until you were almost positive he was going to fuck you through the headboard.

His breath, hot against the sweat of your neck, has you shivering while the primal sound of his low, guttural groans makes you clench even tighter around his cock. The sensation has him gripping your hips just as hard, fingers that are normally gentle squeezing with a force to leave pretty bruises in the shape of those hands you love.

It’s a good job no one but him and Soyeon will ever see the bruises on your hips, and the thought turns you on even more, more wetness making letting his cock slide in you even easier.

“Oh, you're being so good for me wife. So good,” He whispers darkly against the tendons of your neck, lips fluttering against your skin with butterfly soft movements that only heighten the sensation of touch you're craving from him. “My beautiful wife. Can you moan for me? Can you scream?’

Hoseok bites down then when you’re not focused on his mouth, his perfect white teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your neck with ease and you sob out a cry of pleasure at the sting. The pinpricks of pain his fangs cause vanish as his tongue laves attention to the wounds before he presses his lips to them, suctioning hard and you pant as you hear his throat gulp greedily at the thick red liquid you bleed for him.

The overwhelming sensation of both pleasure and pain has you writhing under him, throbs of desire causing you to clench around him rhythmically until he's hissing his displeasure at you once more.

Swiping his tongue along your skin to catch any leaking trails he had missed, he pulls away and you watch him through heavy lidded eyes as his lips pull back in a silent snarl. Once white teeth are now stained, while two impossibly sharp fangs are prominent in his mouth. He’s fed messily tonight, his lust causing him to be a little less careful and his chin is smeared with red.

“Bad girl.” Hoseok whispers lowly, his dominant hand coming up to wrap around your throat with a gentleness that belies the ruby in his eyes. His fingers avoid the sore marks he’s made though. Leaning down, his refined nose brushes along the bone of your jawline slowly, nudging at you in a way that's almost affectionate in spite of his words.

Rolling his hips into yours at an almost glacial pace suddenly, you can't stop the whine as his hips press against you enticingly; just enough pressure to make it feel nice but not enough to go anywhere.

“Say my name darling. Let everyone know who's fucking you good.” He whispers into your ear, voice low and sensual like a devil coaxing you out of your home. Hoseok is obviously not quite over his jealous flare earlier, and if it wasn’t for the sheer gratification he was giving you then you’d coo at him.

His words are accompanied though by another sharp snap of his hips, cock spearing you and pressing against that thick bundle of nerves on your inner wall until you're panting out his name, desperately, clinging to his shoulders with fingers that dig deep.

“Hoseok, please.” You gasp out, high pitched whines threading through every sound. Hoseok chuckles darkly, nipping at your jawline before pressing even harder against your throat till you can barely breathe.

“Say my name. Scream my name, wife. Who do you belong to?” He bites out, teeth gritted together while the tendons of his own neck appear enticingly from his efforts.

Wheezing under his grip, you tap at his arm until he's releasing just enough that you can have a breathe. The pressure in your lower abdomen is overwhelming, your pussy feeling like it's about to break from the pace he's going at and you can't stop the long, elongated moan that you let out as you finally reach your release.

Squeezing around him like a vice, your fingernails drag down his back deeply while your eyes roll into the back of your head.

A small part of your mind remembers his demand as he continues to thrust, causing micro explosions of aftershocks that ricochet your body. “Hoseok. Jung Hoseok. I belong to Jung Hoseok.”

Eyes opening you watch as Hoseok’s eyes slowly bleed from ruby to black in satisfaction, the smirk on his lips having a touch of smugness in your orgasm clouded mind.

“Good girl. Always such a good girl.” He grunts before his eyes close, expression almost pained as he presses himself firmly into you. His grip on your throat tightens once more while the other on your hip feels like he'll break something.

Hoseok's soft, bloodstained lips fall open as his brow creases from the force of his orgasm and you can feel his cock twitch as he cums, emptying himself inside you. “Good girl.” He whispers once more, eyes opening as his chest moves rapidly in an attempt to get his breath.

Rolling off you, you both face the ceiling and gasp desperately while your body feels boneless with a lack of energy. It’s like he’s sucked all the energy out of you with his bite and the orgasm, but it feels so pleasant that you can’t find it in you to care.

You don’t even realise that you’ve started to drift until you jerk into awareness when he lazily moves onto his side, wrapping an arm around you and tugging you closer to him. A soft kiss is pressed to your throat and when you look at him, Hoseok has an expression that almost looks like he’s asking for forgiveness.

“I’m yours too. You know that right?” He whispers out, and you can feel the sudden vulnerability in it. Smiling, you nod your head and kiss his forehead gently and simply tell him to sleep. You’ll always be his, just as he will always be yours. No matter what others think.

-

The final day, as always, is bittersweet. It begins with you awakening slowly, consciousness crawling its way into being at a pace that would make the snails in the gardens seem fast. Everything feels warm and the quiet solitude of the room is comforting for once instead of oppressive.

You don't want to wake up though, and you fight it as much as you can. Because waking up means facing the reality that he is leaving. That you have only scant hours with him before he climbs into his carriage and departs to his kingdom, unseen and unheard of for a further six months.

It makes your limbs feel heavy, the weight of your sadness like chains around your chest that squeeze tight until it is too hard to breathe. You had tried communicating one year, sending messages to each other as secretly as possible until you realised the futility.

One simply did not send messages from Hekatalia to Sanguinus, particularly not to the Crown Prince from the Witch Queen. Especially not when you were supposed to despise each other.

It was lovely while he was here though, while he was home. You weren’t even entirely sure where he called home anymore, but a tiny part of you hoped that he considered it here in your arms. Even if his time here was spent metaphorically shackled to the castle, you had the comfort of simply knowing that he was here.

For yet another moment, like the hundreds of times before, you cursed the Faerie Queen for giving you such a cruel curse.

Despite the knowledge that he was leaving though, your beloved husband was also the reason that you were waking right now.

He was already awake underneath you, his heart slow but steady under the warm skin of his chest as your head lay on him. Hoseok hadn't said a word to you, nor had he tried to coax you from slumber.

Instead, his fingers simply trailed along the length of your exposed back in slow, yet steady and assured movements. It was featherlight, and you would have shivered if he hadn't been doing it for long enough to desensitise your skin.

You're not sure why he hasn't tried to wake you, but he seems to be deep in thought. Though if you'd thought he wasn't paying attention then you were reminded of his vampiric senses when his hand glides up your back to rub at the sensitive skin at the bottom of your neck.

“Good morning wife.” His voice is low, gravelly with sleep and you revel in the deep tone with happiness. Nuzzling your nose into his neck, you refuse to open your eyes and ruin the moment.

Instead, you let your hand wander to rest against the velvet skin of his chest, the muscles firm under your hand. But it's the steady beating of his heart beneath your palm that calms you more than anything.

There's a misconception amongst your kind that vampires are undead and therefore have no heartbeat. It's wrong, obviously, and borne of fear and terror throughout the years. A way to demonize their enemy and strip them of the things that makes them relatable.

It is easy to slaughter innocents after all, if you believe that they are not alive in the first place.

Though it is a stupid belief that they have, given vampires quite clearly procreate. And dead people are not prone to giving life.

Still, you can't help the gut deep sense of satisfaction that you have at feeling that strong beat beneath your fingertips. The beat that tells you that he's alive and well.

“We have to get up wife.” Hoseok speaks, the words dancing from his lips into the quiet air like the tiny dust motes that you can see gliding lazily in the morning sun. Pressing yourself firmly against his side, you shake your head into his neck petulantly.

“No. I don't want to. I'm queen, I can do what I want.” You don't even have to see your husbands face to know he's probably smiling at that, his rounded cheeks pulled high while his eyes crease in happiness. It makes your heart hurt.

“Yes you are the queen. A very good queen, who does not abandon her subjects or her work to laze in bed with her husband that she should not love.” He admonishes, the hand stroking affection into your back making the words softer than they should be.

Sighing quietly, you simply inhale the soothing and comforting scent of him. “Maybe so. But I do love him. And my subjects will be here tomorrow, whereas he will not.”

His hand pauses and there's nothing further said, his very breathe still in his chest before he let's it out in a deep exhale that speaks of so many emotions. With a burst of movement, Hoseok rolls to his side and lays his arm over your waist while resting his head close to yours.

Neither of you say anything, gazes simply tracking over each others faces to keep every pore and line fresh in your memories. He looks beautiful, if a little paler than when he arrived due to his lack of spending time outdoors.

One year, you will declare him able to go where he pleases whether the population likes it or not. You know he likely won't go far, and he’s actually been the one confining himself half the time, but you would like him to at least try to experience some freedom.

His eyes are soft and unbelievably kind today, the colour rich as dark chocolate while his inky hair splays across the pillow and his forehead in a haphazard manner that is adorably sweet. The effects of sleep are still present on him as well, with a crease from his pillow in the round softness of his cheek while the puffiness under his eyes belies his tiredness.

It's the imperfections that make him truly perfect.

“I don't want you to go.” You croak out, voice cracking and hoarse with both sleep and emotion that you don't have to explain but that he feels all the same.

Hoseok says nothing for a moment and simply gives you a heart wrenching, bittersweet smile. “I know. I don't want to go. But you know I have to. Six months, and I'll be back. You know that I will love you fiercely, even when I am gone.”

Your eyes fall from his gaze and the pure honesty you see there. It must hurt him so, to constantly be uprooting his life like this. Yet he has not complained since the night he shyly confessed his love for you, fully braced for hatred and rejection so many years ago.

His thumb makes slow and comforting stroking motions on your side before he leans in, pressing his lips to your forehead before letting them remain there for a moment.

“My father has a meeting in the Faerie Kingdom soon. I think I may ask to go with him.” You understand what he means instantly and shake your head.

“Hoseok...no. You know the faeries hate us. She will never undo this curse. And I don't blame her. I don't want her to. This curse keeps us apart, yes. But without it, we would have never found love in each other. Only hate. And our people will kill each other again.” You whisper, resting a hand against his chest as you make your case.

As painful as it is to plead with him to accept the status quo, you know that it must be done.

He makes a strained noise of complaint before hugging you closer. “I hate it though. I have to at least try. For our kingdom's, so they can see that we truly can get on with each other and love. For us, to no longer live half lives. For...the babe we lost through our hubris and the children we can never have. Please...let me at least try. How can I tell you that I love you, how can everyone accept that I love you if I can't even fight for you? You can't ask because of diplomacy, but I am not a king yet. I'm just a prince, with not as much to lose as you.”

You don’t know what to say to him, as denying his request would likely hurt him even more. He’d follow your demands if you told him not to go, you knew that, but you wondered what it would cost in your relationship. It had always been harder on him, the constant shuffling from one home to another and unable to make any concrete plans for his future.

Was this to be his life? You at least had your kingdom to run, but Hoseok’s father was not likely to give up the throne anytime soon. Hoseok spent his life either learning under his father in his kingdom and not doing a whole lot, or just plain not doing a whole lot in your kingdom.

You knew that he craved more in his life, and it pained you that he was likely unhappy in many areas because of the curse. He’d taken losing the baby badly, very badly, and you knew that he craved a family for you both. Maybe it was because he truly wanted a family, or maybe it was because he wanted something to do and a child would allow him to focus his efforts somewhere.

One hundred years was a long time, and the fact that there was a distinct possibility of never bearing children in the future was painful for you both. How could you deny him to at least try? To at least ask and try to fight for your right to happiness with each other. You wanted it as much as he did, and you did not want him to be facing an eternity of unhappiness.

“Just...don’t get too hurt if she denies it. Please. Even if she says no, at least we get half the year with each other. We will figure this out, even if we have to just declare our love to each other. What can they do anyway? The curse means we have to spend six months together, and they cannot kill us. But...try.” It doesn’t seem like much, and he huffs out a breathe in annoyance. Chuckling in his arms, you press a soft kiss to his neck and enjoy the way he shivers slightly.

“You know, if anyone could see you behind closed doors then their ideas of bloodthirsty and scary vampires would be gone completely.” You tease, pushing against him until he finally lets his arms relax and you slip from him.

Exiting the bed, you stretch with a deep groan before turning around and talking in the sight of him. Hoseok is leaning up on his elbow now, the silk sheets draped around his hips and revealing the delicious expanse of golden, toned stomach and chest. The image is slightly ruined by his sleep puffy face, but it just makes you smile as your heart swells with affection for him.

“Have I ever told you that you’re beautiful wife?” He grins, fangs slightly longer than they had been as his gaze tracks along the expanse of your naked body. Cheeks heating as your husband is evidently feeling different emotions to you, you shrug as nonchalantly as you can before walking to the wash basin in the corner of his room. Taking the towel, you dip it into the fresh water and give yourself a quick clean over before heading back to him.

Crawling onto the tall bed, you bounce towards him and laugh at the way his eyes focus on your breasts immediately. Leaning over, you catch his lips in yours in a sweet kiss before sitting back with a mischievous smile.

“Come husband. We must get ready.” He growls at your mocking tone, eyes deeping to crimson as he sits up and captures your lips in a bruising kiss, one hand twining in your hair while the other presses your chest to his.

His mouth leaves yours and moves down your throat hungrily, sucking in a needy motion against the column of your neck with a deep purr. “Impudent woman. Maybe I should have a last feed...for the road you know.” He hisses, the words tickling the sensitive skin and you moan quietly, your smile unseen by him.

Gripping his black hair tightly, you press his head to your throat in an encouraging manner while your other hand reaches his body down to grip him firmly, shifting your body into position. “Please do. A good wife needs to make sure her husband is taken care of.”

He lets out a strained groan as you sink onto him before pulling back and giving you a narrow eyed gaze, his amusement strong despite the red in his eyes. “Wench.” Is all he says before he focuses on the matters at hand, providing you both with the final pleasures of his visit.

Duties soon call however and within no time at all, you find yourself sat with your advisors as they discuss the recently updated terms of a trade agreement with a far away kingdom. You should be paying more attention than you are, and part of you admonishes yourself for being such a terrible ruler, but a larger part of you is focused on the welcome soreness between your legs and the ache at your throat.

Soyeon had to wrap a beautiful scarf around your throat, turning it into an endearing fashion statement to hide the redness of Hoseok’s bite. There was a burning desire to just throw the scarf away and wear his mark proudly, but you knew the shock it would likely cause.

One day, you would simply throw your caution to the wind and kiss your husband in front of everyone the way he deserved. If you had a coin for every time you thought something like this, then you would likely have enough money to rival the royal vault.

But there is another part of your mind that is firmly in your quarters with him still, and you wonder what he is doing right now. A quick glance at the clock tells you that the carriage is due anytime, and your stomach twists with unhappiness at the prospect.

Shaking your head, you engage back with your advisors and discuss the terms that you find acceptable along with the ones that you do not, requesting they go back and re-negotiate better for your subjects. They acknowledge the requests, writing down notes furiously that you have no doubt will be discussed with the corresponding partners in the foreign kingdom.

A sudden knock at the door has your heart racing while your stomach turns, causing nausea. Soyeon’s head appears behind the heavy wooden door and you feel the strongest urge to suddenly cry.

“Apologies Your Majesty, but your husband’s carriage has arrived.” Standing, you brush at invisible dirt on your skirts before nodding your head to your advisors who bow. Making your own apologies, you excuse yourself from the meeting and begin to follow Soyeon along the quiet and empty hallways.

“Is he ready?” You ask quietly, your tone strained as your hands play with themselves nervously. Soyeon gives you a sympathetic look, resting a hand against your arm for a moment before nodding her head.

“He is Your Majesty. Waiting for you just before the doors.” She didn’t even need to say that final sentence as you turn a corner and he’s there, looking magnificently beautiful. His dark hair has been styled elegantly, lifted off his forehead while most of his body is hidden behind a long, fitted black coat, the ends brushing his knees and meeting the top of his boots. The silver lining is a subtle sign that only you would understand and you bite your lip suddenly to stop a burst of emotion.

“You have only a few minutes before they will be expecting him. His luggage is already being stowed.” She whispers, bowing her head to you both before heading out of the door. Neither of you move for a moment, and you watch painfully as Hoseok swallows.

“They’re here.” He says, tone empty as he states a pointless fact that you both already know. Pressing your hands to your mouth, you nod your head as tears fill your eyes while a gnawing desperation fills every ounce of your body.

Upon seeing it, Hoseok’s brave face falls and his own eyes shine with unshed tears as well. Striding over briskly, you marvel at the extraordinary sight he makes with his coat billowing behind him before he’s suddenly there, taking you into his arms and holding you so tightly.

“Do not cry my love. Please. It will make it much harder to leave you and impossible to not give away my feelings.” He begs, words soft and light as a feather as he pleads with you desperately. Sniffling, you bring a hand to wipe away a stray tear and he gently thumbs away the liner that has slipped from your eyes.

“You look phenomenal. Like a king.” You whisper and he laughs quietly, his face light with happiness despite the sad situation.

“I will never be your king, remember?” He breathes out, the teasing in his voice a welcome break to the brevity of what is to happen and you cling harder to him. Hoseok lets you, and makes no motion to try and move you away from him. Instead, he wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you in tighter.

“You’re the king of my heart.” His laugh is loud at that, the sound happy despite the situation and you can literally feel it vibrate out of his chest as he lets his hands wander along the laces that keep your dress tied together.

“Wow. I don’t even know how to respond to that without making a sarcastic comment.” Pulling away, he looks down at you with so much affection and love that you grip the lapels of his jacket even tighter.

“Then don’t. Just...come back to me in six months happy. That’s all I ask. I love you.” You focus on his chest, flattening out his jacket and rubbing at imaginary wrinkles while your lip quivers threateningly. It’s probably not very queen-like but you’re beyond caring about that right now. Hoseok doesn’t respond, simply letting his own hands rub your arms in long and gentle motions before he presses his lips to your forehead.

“I will. I promise. And all I ask is that I come back to you being happy as well. I love you too.” His voice is thick and it cracks on the final part of the sentence, causing you to swallow thickly.

“I will miss you, husband.” You whisper and he gives a weak smile, tight lipped before he dips down to catch your lips between his own in a kiss so fierce and full of emotion. It’s six months worth of kisses in one go and it leaves you breathless, panting against him when he steps back.

“I will miss you too, wife.” Blinking rapidly, he looks up at the ceiling before taking a few fortifying breathes while he rolls his shoulders in preparation. Turning to the door, he looks back at you and gives a final smile before he’s gone and you’re left alone once more.

Staring at the closed door, you will him to re-appear and take you in his arms once more but he doesn’t. Because he can’t. You both know that the curse is vicious and cruel, the pain almost unbearable.

Not waiting for Soyeon, you move quickly through the deathly silent halls before reaching your quarters once more. Slowly moving to the window, you tentatively peer out and watch as the black carriage slowly disappears out of the courtyard of the castle, dust rising as it heads on the long road back to Sanguinus.

Facing your empty room, you look around it despondently and find him in every corner. The bed, where you’d made love many times and cuddled long into the night. Only last week you had lay on your stomach across it, Hoseok sitting on the floor in front of you while he read aloud from a book. Every page he read got him a kiss on the head, until he was giggling with how fast he was trying to read.

The nightstand, when he’d taken over the job of Soyeon to carefully remove your makeup as a simple excuse to be close to you. A few months ago, he had tried to put your makeup on for you, the results causing you to gasp in horror at the mirror until you both burst out laughing, holding your stomachs in glee.

The exquisite rug where you had both laid many times, hand in hand while discussing hypothetical futures. The desk in which you had both sat at, discussing treaties and agreements that he likely shouldn’t have been involved with, yet you’d been unable to not ask him to be involved.

And yet, while each memory hurt, it was filled with so much love and affection that your heart twisted painfully.

Moving into his rooms, you inhale shakily as you take in the wonderful scent of him. Moving over and sitting on the silk sheets of his bed, you run a hand along the soft material with a tiny smile. Only hours ago, you’d made love to him here for the final time.

Laying down in the place he always slept, you pressed his pillow to your nose and breathed him in. His scent would disappear soon enough, and you’d be left cold and empty of him. What would it be like, to never have to curl into his sheets and pillow and hoard every trace of him when he’d gone?

Tears fall in a slow trickle down your face to dampen the silk of his pillow in the quiet sadness of his room, and you lament the loss of your husband once more. Your quiet breakdown is almost peaceful, with Soyeon keeping staff away from your rooms to give you the privacy you so need. They wouldn’t understand why you mourn him.

You don’t know that in a carriage along a road at the same time, your husband is crying silently, his face stoic while his fingers clench tightly so as not to make any noise to alert his travelling companions. One day, he vows. One day he will never have to leave your side.

-

Epilogue

Thursday’s were simultaneously your least favourite and favourite day of the week. It was the day that your subjects were able to seek court with you, asking their monarch for favours or to resolve disputes, perhaps even suggest new laws and so forth.

You loved them because it gave you a chance to meet the very people you ruled over, and as an immortal queen you had plenty of time on your hands to get to know these people. It was likely that you would be overseeing the disputes of their grandchildren in the years to come.

They also often gave good advice that you would sometimes adopt into your own worldview, or suggested laws that were then debated amongst the lawmakers of your country. It was the perfect way to give the smaller people a voice in a society that perhaps didn’t listen as often as it should.

You knew that Hoseok was forever impressed with the format and thought it could perhaps work in Sanguinus, and when he was here then he would often sit in the accompanying throne and simply listen. In recent years, he’d even begun to quietly speak up and offer his own advice.

Perhaps the most surprising result of that was the your people didn’t hiss or spit at him. In fact, some had even taken his wisdom to heed. It filled you with a warm pleasure, resting in your chest to see the ever so subtle changes towards him over the years.

Of course, it wasn’t the outright acceptance you wanted but a hundred years was a long time. It meant your people had grown accustomed to his presence over the fifty years that he had resided in your kingdom, and you tentatively hoped that they would not consider him to be a threat to them.

He was, after all, their co-ruler.

Today had passed like all other days, with peasants, the middle class and even some of the lords and ladies of the Court coming to for you advice or to vent their anger. You were currently having to deal with two ancient families with a blood feud who were currently arguing over who owned a certain area of land.

Perhaps you would have been more forgiving with them, given that they were important families in your Court, but this was the ninth time that they had come to you in only a year and your patience with their incessant complaining had grown thin with their tiresome ways.

Sitting with your chin in your palm as you watched the two matriarch's of the family become increasingly loud in tone as they argued, you pondered if your posture was even remotely ladylike, nevermind befitting of a queen. And yet, you found yourself uncaring.

If Hoseok had been here, he would have sighed heavily at their pettiness and their constant threats of spells and hexes before leaving. Your husband had a short temper when it came to things like these people, and you found that your normally extended patience had shortened dramatically with them.

“Lady Elabaria, Lady Winania. May I interrupt for a moment?” You say, the question more of a statement that dared either of them to talk back or argue with their queen. A small, childish, part of you wanted them to try.

It would give you the perfect excuse to ban them from the castle for a whole year. Then you would have a whole year to no longer listen to them.

Unfortunately however, they are well-trained Court members and immediately cease their whining and threats to face you with bowed heads. Sighing heavily, you sit straighter and look over the two with a critical eye.

“I understand your concerns, but I must admit that I am becoming weary of hearing the complaints from both sides. This issue has gone on too long and frankly, you are taking up valuable time that could be given to other loyal subjects. I apologise for the harshness of this, but I have given both of your families ample amounts of time to resolve this issue and yet I find both families bickering like children once more. As such, I feel the only way to resolve this issue is for the Crown to seize the lands in question until the two families come to an agreement. Once an agreement is realised, the Crown will relinquish the land to the accepted owner. Now please. Leave.” You wave a hand as you speak the words and the air around you shimmers for a moment, the magical binding of your words sealing in a golden glow.

The two matriarch’s stare at you with eyes wide in shock before they narrow in unhappiness. For a moment, you ponder if perhaps they might turn on you and you prepare to tell them why this would be a silly decision on their behalf. It’s pointless however, as they instead turn to each other and begin to argue once more as they exit the throne room.

Watching them go, you look over at the advisors who sit at a panel along the side of the expansive room with an exasperated glance. Park Jimin, the Keeper of Words in your Court, gives a silent laugh as he shakes his head at their antics.

The peasants of your kingdom are far easier to deal with. They also don’t come with the arrogance or sense of self-entitlement that the upper classes come with.

“This is the last one Your Majesty.” Soyeon whispers from your side and you turn to look at her. She’s wearing an elegant dress of purple and silver today, her highest quality dress to make sure she gives the best impression to the subjects of your kingdom. You’d already complimented her on it and how it worked wonderfully with her hair, which had caused a sweet flush to grace her cheeks.

Nodding to her, you give her a tired smile. “Good. I’m looking forward to whatever culinary delights Jin has made tonight.” At the very thought of the food your chef makes, your stomach rumbles in hunger causing you to sigh. He’d made a most delightful stew yesterday, and you were hoping for something equally as filling for the cold winter day.

Turning back to the final person, you sigh in gratitude that your long day is almost over. As much as you enjoyed these days, they also left you feeling stiff and awkward from having to sit on the uncomfortable throne for as long as you did. Not to mention the heavy tiara that rested on your hair, a symbol of your ultimate power in the kingdom.

Perhaps you complain too much though, you reason to yourself. There are many in your kingdom who do far more work than you without complaint.

The final visitor is a sole traveller, their head covered in the hood of their tattered robe and you eye them over. The robe brushes the floor with each movement and you note the dust that dirties the hem, lightening the dark colour and wonder if they’re from one of the far reaches of your kingdom.

Normally, people dress up better to greet their queen. You say nothing though, and instead gesture with an elegant hand to them. “Speak your mind loyal subject. Your queen will listen.”

There’s a moment of quiet in the vast throne room and you shift in your seat, brows creasing in confusion as they do not speak immediately. Normally, people are excited to have the ear of their queen. You do not push them though, as you have discovered over the many years that some people are nervous about their request.

“Your Majesty. I come today to request your assistance. You see, I have a wife, and I love her very much. But our circumstances are awkward. People do not approve of us being together, for our families have fought for many generations. But I love her fiercely. And I’ve finally found a way for us to be together. I just need your permission to love her openly.” The sheer longing and love in the stranger’s deep voice makes your heart ache with a need to hold Hoseok.

His story sounds so similar to your own, and you find yourself pressing a hand to your stomach without meaning to in an attempt to ease the pain. You weren’t entirely sure why your permission was needed, but if the queen’s word could help to ease the path of love for this stranger and his wife then you would be loathe to hold it back.

You could at least help one relationship to be happy.

“Forgive me, stranger. I do not know if my words will bring you comfort or bring ease into your life with your wife. But you have my full blessing to love openly and honestly. Hold her tight, and always let her know how much you love her, for yours is a love that you have fought hard for.” Your words are perhaps a little more filled with emotion than would normally emerge from you, and you can see the confused frown that Jimin is giving you as the words you speak magically appear on the scroll he is holding.

There’s nothing for a few seconds, and you wonder if perhaps the stranger has more to say. But then he laughs and you freeze in confusion, brows coming together as your heart races with anticipation while your mind pauses in hesitation.

“Thank you for your blessing, my queen. I have waited a long time for this day.” Staring at him in disbelief, you can tell that Soyeon and your advisors are looking between your stunned face and the stranger with confusion.

“No...it’s not possible.” You whisper softly before rising from your throne a hand to your chest while your other grasps your skirts, lifting almost subconsciously as you make your way down the steps. Shaky steps are made towards him and your breath is coming faster than normal, your senses firmly attuned to the man in front of you.

He lets out a breathy laugh, hood moving as he shakes his head underneath it. “Hello, wife.” At that, he lowers the hood and reveals the bright smile of your husband. Your husband who should not be here, for it has only been three months since his departure.

The shocked gasps of everyone in the room let you know that you’re not imagining his astonishingly handsome presence and your eyes track over him quickly. Hair that has been flattened underneath his hood is still a sumptuous black while his golden cheeks glow with a healthy tan.

“Hoseok...how?” You gasp out, a shaking hand moving in front of you until it’s pressed to his very real, firm chest. He’s just as warm as always underneath the rough material of his robe and your trembling fingers untie it quickly, letting it drop to the floor and revealing the exquisite figure of your husband in an black riding outfit.

His hand comes to grasp your own tightly, thumb stroking along the soft skin of the back of your hand before he presses it to his lips in a sweet kiss. “I saw the Faerie Queen, like I said I would. I pleaded our case to her, in fact I spent three days begging her. She refused at first, not understanding that I was being truthful. I told her of our love, stories of us being together and even of our dream of a family and the babe we lost. I offered her anything I could give except you. My crown, whatever she wanted as long as we could be together.” He pauses, his eyes scanning the hall and noting the surprisingly neutral looks on your advisors as they watch him embrace you.

“I didn’t have to beg too much surprisingly though. Apparently, our dance at the masquerade seems to have given us away to the observant ones and she already knew. She didn’t take anything from me and though she is still angry over what happened, she understands that is is not our fault specifically. We are still cursed therefore but she modified it for us, to make it easier to live with. We have no time limit anymore. Our time, is ours. She apologises for the miscarriage also. She didn’t think that would ever happen as it never entered her mind that we might fall in love, and she knows well enough the pain of losing a child.”

The words are soft and only for your ears, but you don’t even care. You can’t find it in yourself to care. Because he is here when he shouldn’t be, and there is no pain or hurt. Only love and excitement.

“No six months?” You ask warily, resting your other hand on his chest while he holds your other with a firm grip. A beautiful grin lights up his face as he shakes his head slowly.

“We can be together as long, or as little as we want. Still cursed, but free to love as we want.” He whispers and you can’t stop the choked sob that leaves your mouth as tears fall. Over fifty years of wanting this, fifty years of desperation to have him like everyone has has their partner. And now, now you have him.

“I love you, you stubborn, beautiful, wonderful man.” You gasp, wiping at your tears. He doesn’t even get chance to respond before you push up onto the very tips of your toes, wrapping your arms around his neck firmly and pulling him down in a kiss so deep, so full of emotion.

The sight is probably shocking for everyone, to see their queen’s vampire husband here when he shouldn’t be. But what is perhaps less shocking to your most trusted people is the desperate kiss you give him while embracing him as tightly as you can. You don’t know it, but the people closest to you have long since guessed your feelings.

You may be cursed still, and you will be for the rest of your eternally long life, but you cannot think of anyone you would rather spend the rest of that long life cursed with.

#armiesnet #networkbangtan #btscreatorsnet #btssunshinenet #btssmutclub #hoseok smut #hoseok angst #hoseok fluff #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #vampire hoseok #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #hoseok fic #bts fic #hoseok one shot #bts one shot #j hope smut #j hope angst #j hope fluff #hobi smut #hobi angst #hobi fluff #fantasy hoseok

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Bumblebee was always the plan

After seeing a few comments on this, I made a  part 2.

I’ve written about this before and I was hoping never to return to this subject, but hanging around RWBY communities has kind of forced my hand. Unfortunately, this probably won’t be the only controversial post I write about RWBY’s fandom.

Even though a huge chunk of the fandom has been convinced Bumblebee was going to happen, there were more than a few people who decided to ignore all the signs. Even after 6×12, there were still people trying to remain in denial, which is fine: you do you, but it’s amazing how then they got upset when BBers turned out not to be interested in believing in their lie. Now, I don’t intend to go through all the moments of foreshadowing for the relationship – there are tons of texts about it – but I am still going to address a few moments to prove that it was heavily hinted at, while also addressing the ignorance towards LGBTQ+ experiences.

The injury

To me, I think Yang’s and Sun’s injuries are everything I should need to prove the likelihood of BB as they contrast the two main Blake ships: Bumblebee and Black Sun. While heroes tend to save many people who are indeed just friends or sometimes not even that, there’s a reason why Superman and Spiderman usually include Lois Lane and MJ (or whoever the love interest is in said film) in the climax – it makes it more personal, raising the stakes. From this perspective, it’s easy to understand the importance given to either by comparing: what the injury was, who caused it, why and Blake’s reaction, thus allowing to conclude which couple was given more weight.

What was the injury? Yang lost an arm and suffered from PTSD. Sun, on the other hand, received a minor injury from which he had almost completely recovered from by the next episode and left no lasting damages. Point Bumblebee. Some have tried to argue that Sun was actually hit by an electric weapon, so he could have died, but, ultimately, what matters is what actually happens, not what could have been. As far as we know, he didn’t even get a limitation in movement.

Who caused it? In Yang’s case, it was Adam, while in Sun’s, it was Ilia. So ex-boyfriend vs friend whose feelings were not reciprocated. This one is a no brainer: again point Bumblebee as the first one is more associated with romance. Yang having her arm cut by Adam linked them. By the way, don’t forget Yang and Adam are foils for each other.

Why? Yang was trying to save Blake, while Sun… questioned Ilia’s being a Faunus. If you want to super charitable with him, I can give you: because Ilia was trying to intimidate Blake into giving her back her scroll. Honestly, it doesn’t really matter because neither scenario holds a candle to the first one. Point Bumblebee.

What was Blake’s reaction? When it was Adam vs Yang, she put herself between them and used her semblance to get the latter to safety. When Sun got injured, instead of putting herself between him and Ilia, she stood still and refused to comply with Ilia’s demand. If you feel tempted to say: well, that’s because Ilia’s not as dangerous as Adam, then I have to say: exactly! She could have been, but the writers decided not to do that. Pretty much like Sun could have been the one being associated with Blake’s ex, but he wasn’t. Again, point Bumblebee.

Bonus points:

The use of the Kuleshov effect when Adam says “I’ll destroy everything you love…”, Yang appears, “starting with her”. I can already hear the screeches “Love doesn’t have to mean romance”. Thanks dude, I know. This is where looking at the rest of the scene comes in: it’s why I compared the scene where Yang gets injured to the one with Sun. The writers could have chosen to phrase it differently like “I’ll destroy everything you care about”, but they didn’t. Also, in V5, they got the opportunity to associate that word with Sun and Blake, yet they went for… “classmate”. You know writers care about the words used, right?

By the way, some people tried to argue that Adam just immediately notices the deep love between Yang and Blake. While I don’t disagree that he understands that Blake cares about Yang, the point is for the audience to associate the word “love” with those 2.

More bonus points

Sun was there when Yang decided to go after Blake in V3 and put Weiss in charge of going after Ruby. This shows 2 things: 1) Blake means more to her than to Sun; 2) Yang prioritizes going after Blake over her own sister. That only changed during V4 and V5 because she felt betrayed by Blake for leaving, especially when she needed her as she was struggling with losing an arm and having PTSD.

After the fall, Sun looks at an injured Blake and Yang while the first apologizes to the latter with tears in her eyes. That shot exists for Sun to realize the connection between the 2 girls, not for him to see Blake injured, otherwise it would have been better if Yang had been kept out of the frame, not to mention that he had already seen her injured. If I had to get inside his mind, I’d say that is the moment he realizes how much Yang means to Blake and it’s the reason why he brings up Yang in V4 after his injury.

If you need proof of the romantic undertones of this scene, just tell it to a friend, but swap Yang’s gender and you’ll see just how much more impactful Yang vs Adam is in relation to Sun vs Ilia. Don’t forget to mention that Adam is Blake’s ex-boyfriend while Ilia is the friend whose feelings weren’t reciprocated. Also, Adam’s line “I will destroy everything you love… starting with him”, while our gender-bent Yang enters the scene.

Dance arc

It also accomplishes a few things:

It straight up shows us that Yang understands Blake better than anyone and can get through to her like no one else;

It has Yang flirt with Blake, phrasing her invitation to the dance as “If you feel like coming out tomorrow, I’ll save a dance” and winks;

Yang comments on how she’ll be turning heads, yet the only head she turns is Blake’s.

All of the rest of team wears a dress of their colors: Ruby-red, Weiss-white, Blake-black, yet Yang uses a white one instead of yellow. I think that was to create a yin-yang effect with her and Blake. (apparently this was the result of an animation problem).

Establishes the parallel between Bumblebee and Arkos as their scenes are intertwined, which happens again in V3

(After reading the comments on rwby wiki, I have to add: those were phrased deliberately that way. I know: writers care about how they word things... shock! If you think the "coming out" or the "turning heads" were phrased accidentally with Blake turning her head also accidentally, I'm sorry but you don't know anything about writing and filmmaking. There is no way the writers didn't know "coming out" is associated with LGBTQ+ and they didn't have to phrase that way. Also, there's this thing called "editing" where writers (and others) reread the script - if those weren't intentional, they would have been detected and changed during this phase. It's about other scene, but here you go). 

Bumblebee also resembles Renora as the friendship turned more and one could easily make an argument there were no hints of romance for Renora until V4, yet no one bothers to as if there are huge double standards when it comes to straight and LGBTQ+ couples: whenever two characters of the opposite gender have an interaction that can be seen as romantic or platonic, it’s seen as the first, while if the same happens to same gender, they are put in the platonic category.

Songs

Ok, so Bmblb isn’t canon, but it was still written with Bumblebee in mind. It is full of references to bees and puns, the latter was probably like the third thing the writers put on Yang’s character sheet, which probably looked like this: 1) anger issues 2) semblance: absorb and dish out energy 3) loves puns.

Bmblb is undoubtedly a love song between Yang and Blake, unlike BS song Not Fall in Love With You which was a pop song written before RWBY was even a thing. Oh, and Like Morning Follows Night isn’t romantic, except for a few Sun’s lines, but Blake’s part never treats him more than friend. Once, I read a comment saying this song was written because Jeff hates BB and finds BBers annoying. Look, if that were true (and it’s a big “if”), then, not only Jeff would be pretty petty, he’d also be incredibly stupid (again, huge “if”), because he’d OK with queerbaiting, plus it’s pretty obvious BBers would get louder as it confirmed their ship.

Armed and Ready’s first 2 verses are about Yang losing her arm and replaying the scene in her mind and within those verses she mentions “there’s nothing I won’t do for her”, which often is associated with love (“and I’d do anything for love” – not the time to express my love for that Meat Loaf’s song? My bad).

All that Matters, which includes the lines “never thought you would stay forever/never asked you to commit your life”, that definitely have a romantic connotation. The entire song reveals just how much Yang feels for Blake, even though she feels betrayed.

Red Like Roses compares Blake to the Beast and Yang to the Beauty. Tale as old as time indeed.

I could go on, but seriously just read the posts I linked to before.

So, why did Bumblebee caught so many by surprise?

Well, that one is obvious: because it’s a LGBTQ+ couple. When it comes to those, most will remain in denial and interpret everything that can be romantic or platonic as the latter while they won’t do that for heterosexual couples. Again, Renora didn’t have to be framed as romantic until V4, yet most people did think of them that way and (almost) no one complained when they became a couple.

Yet, with Bumblebee, people chose to stay in denial until the very last episode of V6 (some even after that), though it was obvious 2 episodes before. A huge part of V6 was about Bumblebee: them mending their wounds and understanding their (and each other’s) feelings. Adam attacked Yang out of jealousy, tried to make her insecure about her relationship with Blake by claiming she had promised to stay with him and didn’t keep it and, then asked “what does she even see in you?”. In spite of this, there were still people trying to deny Bumblebee as if that question appears outside a romantic context.

After all… Blake and Yang were totally straight, right? Content warning for fragile egos: yap, we’re going to talk about heteronormativity and bisexual erasure.

What do heteronormativity and bisexual erasure mean?

In this context, heteronormativity means the assumption that everyone is straight until proven otherwise. By the way, some people like to pretend this is the skeptic’s position, but it’s not. An actual skeptic (which are much rarer than internet would have you believe, because it conflates skepticism with atheism) would assume ignorance when they don’t have the complete facts. Unless a character said they are only attracted to the opposite gender or something that makes it unambiguous they are straight, they might not be. Sorry, but I’m just a bit too old to believe in a “straight of the gaps”. Sure, most people/characters are straight, but if you assume everyone is, you’ll be wrong a bunch of times.

Bisexual erasure is the failure to consider bisexuality is a thing. To be fair, most people who do this, also fail to consider pan and asexuality. To them, people are either gay or straight. And, yes, most will recognize bisexuality exists when called out, yet still fail to consider it when making an argument. They’ll point out Blake can’t be into Yang, because she had a boyfriend as if that excludes interest in girls. Spoiler alert: not only it doesn’t exclude bisexuality, it can actually not even exclude her as a lesbian (I’ll return to this later).

Both of the comments above illustrate the problems I pointed out (with the second being pretty douchey and hilariously proven wrong now). The people above act if characters aren’t straight, writers need to show it right away. After all, don’t we all meet people by saying “My name is X and my sexual orientation is y”? Or make sure people see us check out people of the opposite/same gender or both genders to reveal our sexual orientation? Just me? Not even me? OK.

I think I’ve covered the fact that attraction to the opposite gender doesn’t exclude attraction to the same. Now, let’s take a look on Yang and Blake’s interest in boys.

The only time Yang expressed interest in boys was in episode 1×03, when she was ogling some shirtless ones. “Yeah. How do you explain that? Zing”. Hold your horses mate, here’s how:

Compulsory heterosexuality (yes, I intend to explain that too, so hold your tongue/fingers before doing a GoT impression saying “shame!” over and over again);

Episode 1×03 is pretty early on, so the writers may not have yet figured out the character’s sexuality, which is supported by an interview with Monty where, when asked about future LGBTQ+ characters, he responded they might already be there, they (and writers) hadn’t figured it out yet;

It was just a joke. I have to ask if you put so much weight on Yang being straight because of that joke, why do you not exclude her as being straight (or even bi) when she makes a joke revealing disinterest in Sun’s abs? Yang is totally straight because she likes guys with abs and when she doesn’t, it has no meaning. Sorry people, but if you put so much weight in one moment where she shows interest in guys for comedic purposes, then you have to put it in equal amount in the moment she shows disinterest in guys for comedic purposes. I may not like Sun, but eternally-unbuttoned-shirt-guy-with-well-defined-abs was definitely designed to be hot. So was Neptune, by the way, yet our flirty girl couldn’t have shown to be less interested in him even though he tried to flirt with her. Our straight girl!

Compulsory heterosexuality refers to the concept that heterosexuality can be adopted by people regardless of their personal sexual preference. Basically, heterosexuality is expected and we are raised to believe that is the normal, as a result many LGBTQ+ people believe to be straight until something or someone makes them question that. So no, not everyone who is LGBTQ+ knows it right away. Many figure themselves out during their teenage years, others find out much later.

About Blake’s sexuality, all we know is she dated Adam and might have had a crush on Sun at some point. Again, this does not exclude LGBTQ+, not even the L, since, again, she might have not figured herself out. I doubt she’s a lesbian, pan/bi is more likely, but it’s still a possibility. Oh, and asexual people can have relationships too.

I’m sure some may be thinking “she has only liked guys”, but 2 isn’t a big number (and only 1 was confirmed). Like I said, in order to assert she’s straight there needs to be evidence, which there isn’t. At most, you have evidence she probably likes guys, which again doesn’t exclude her liking girls (I may be sounding awfully repetitive, but trust me, this case warrants it).

Now, some people like to pretend to feel shamed when someone claims that “If Yang was a guy, you wouldn’t see them as just friends”. I agree with the argument because… well, it’s obviously true: most people think of relationships as involving 2 people of the opposite gender, even if they are aware others exist (didn’t we just cover that some LGBTQ+ go through a self-discovery process because of that?). However, it’s ultimately counterproductive. People who do this usually aren’t aware of it (and if they are, they’ll lie about it) and it can’t be proven, usually.

Of course, some let their masks slip away too much. The person who inspired this part of the rant constantly faked outrage when called out for their behavior. They did all of it: presumed straight until proven otherwise and pretended one can be only either straight or gay. Even after being called out several times, they constantly demanded evidence that Yang and Blake weren’t straight (this was before the end of V6, obviously), though they, of course, had to provide no proof they were. Still, when someone said the endgame pairings would be SunxBlake, YangxIlia and OscarxRuby, guess what evidence they asked for? If you guessed Yang being LGBTQ+, congratulations! You win the internet!

I think I don’t have to point out the ridiculousness of asking for that when neither Oscar nor Ruby have expressed any romantic or sexual interest in anyone, regardless of gender (in 6 volumes). According to the logic of these internet-skeptics (which means: believers in gut feeling, but in denial about it), Ruby and Oscar should be asexual and aromantic until proven otherwise. Yet, even then, the assumption is they’re straight. Again, LGBTQ+ needs evidence and absence of it means evidence of absence, straight doesn’t. No double standards at all.

I think it’s time to wrap this up: writers don’t have to tell a character’s sexual orientation in the beginning. And if two characters of the same gender have interactions that can be seen as either romantic or platonic, yet you frame them always as the second, while doing the opposite for pairs of different genders – that’s on you. And if you insist on faking outrage and shame when someone points all this out (yes, it’s fake – I know it, you know it, everyone knows it), and want to keep playing the “I’m not going to be part of the system” card (’cause it’s so brave to be part of the status quo) and throwing stuff on the ground, go right ahead. Throw a hot dog, a birthday cake, your cellphone, your computer even. In the end, it changes nothing: LGBTQ+ people exist and so should LGBTQ+ characters. If you have a problem with that and demand a ridiculous standard from them that you’d never do from a straight couple, here’s a hint: sometimes, you’re just not the target audience.

More RWBY posts:

Filmmaking and Bumbleby

Bumblebee was Always the Plan part 2

Faunus and the White Fang: The Portrayal of Racism

BB & Renora

Weird Post on Weiss’s Clothes

Foils: Adam and Yang (this one is in wordpress; it was my first one and I didn’t have Tumblr then)

Let’s talk about Adam Taurus (I didn’t post this one on Tumblr because the title and tags could lead Adam fans thinking this was about “his wasted potential” when really it defends the decision of killing him off and explains why it happened)

Original post: https://rwbytalk.wordpress.com/2019/01/31/sorry-rwby-fans-bumblebee-didnt-come-out-of-the-blue/ 

#bumbleby #Bumblebee was always the plan #rwby bmblb #let me 🐝 your bmblb #bumblebee rwby #heteronormativity #bisexual erasure #foreshadow #rwby lgbtq+ #rwby lgbtq #yang x blake #Blake Belladonna #yang xiao long #rwby bumblebee #rwby writing

[emybain]

After Archenemies 3/?

In honor of not getting on Tumblr tomorrow, here is part 3 of whatever this is to anyone who liked the first two parts. In all honesty idk what this part is, and it might be a little soon for what follows, but I wasn't planning on making this fic long anyways so...yeah. Here is part 1 and here is part 2 if you care. feel free to check out my other works also! enjoy! warning: I dont really edit these that much, so please be kind if you see errors! this is also shorter than what I usually write, just fyi.

Edit: heck i forgot to post the links to the previous parts...ill do it later lmao

Nova’s communicator band had gone off three times in the past hour. She had taken it off and set it on her mattress after it first went off. She didn't need the distraction, especially if that distraction was Adrian Everhart.

“Why are you still staring at that thing?” Nova looked up to see Honey in the doorway of their shared room, leaning against the cracked door frame. She was examining her polished nails. “If you look at it any longer, the filthy Renegade will be able to turn back to normal.”

Nova pushed back the chair she was sitting on in front of Honey’s vanity where Danna’s butterfly was currently trapped. It remained immobile for the most part. When Nova would start to worry if it had died, it would crawl around its little prison. “Just thinking.” About her uncle. About how they would be able to free him from the Renegades. About Nightmare. About a certain Renegade boy.

She closed her eyes, feeling a headache forming at the base of her neck.

“Well, you can think and answer your little Renegade buddies.” Honey gestured towards the communicator band resting on top of a jewelry box. “That ringing is driving me nuts. I can hear it all the way downstairs.”

Nova rolled her eyes, but picked up the band nonetheless. “It’s only gone off three times, Honey. Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Me? Not dramatic?” Honey laughed, the sound like bells. “In your dreams, sweet girl.” She strutted into the room, reached over Nova, grabbed a magazine that was open on her vanity, and sauntered back out. Her perfume lingered, stronger than ever. Nova waved her hand in front of her face. Vintage fumes were the last thing she needed for her aching head.

Her communicator band went off again, and she heard Honey yelling from the first floor to shut it off before she did. Nova looked down at the device, scrolling through her notifications. The first one, nearly an hour ago, was from Adrian.

This is last minute, but we’re meeting in the HQ library in about 30 minutes, Let me know when you get here. It’s about Nightmare.

Nova froze. That couldn’t be good. This was it, she thought. They figured her out, and this was Adrian trying to lure her into a trap to arrest her.

Taking a deep breath, she checked the next message, which was sent twenty minutes after the first.

Nova? Are you busy? If not, please respond.

The third one was five minutes after the first.

Of course you’re busy. You would’ve responded by now. Ignore my last message.

The most recent text was sent two minutes ago.

Nova? We’re all here. You’re not dead or something, are you? Please tell me you aren’t because I would be really upset.

Nova snorted, shoulders relaxing in relief. She believed she was safe, for the time being. She bit her lip, thinking of a response.

Hey. Sorry. Turns out I’m pretty sick, and my uncle took anything that could distract me so I could rest.

Nova thought back to a few days before, when she had pretended to feel under the weather in order to have an excuse to leave the visit to Max. She couldn’t stand to be there any longer without being weighed down by the guilt. It was a believable lie. Besides, she didn’t have time to do detective work with Adrian on her secret identity, nor did she have the patience for it. The quicker she and the rest of the Anarchists figured out a way to free Ace, the sooner she could drop the ridiculous Renegade charade.

Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want me to come by later to give you some company?

The smile that grew on Nova’s face was inevitable, along with the giddy spark in her stomach. She suppressed it though, and denied his offer, pushing away all thoughts of being able to curl up against Adrian while they did something as mundane as watching a movie.

No, thank you though. My uncle is pretty strict whenever I get sick and doesn’t like visitors. Maybe another time?

She received a response almost immediately.

Definitely! I hope you get to feeling better, Nova.

It was so sweet. Nova’s heart ached. Even though she wasn’t sick, she had a feeling she would feel better soon anyways.    

Thanks, Adrian.

Nova sent the text. She debated on whether or not to send something else. Something came to mind, and she immediately cringed. Then Ace’s words floated through her mind. Earn his affection.

Well.

With a defeated sigh, Nova reluctantly sent a text with a heart.

Sweet rot, her IQ just dropped by 20.

Downstairs, Honey started singing. Nova suspected she was cleaning; she tended to sing when fixing up the old house. Nova groaned. Honey wasn’t a terrible singer, but it did not mix well with Nova’s pounding head. Maybe she was actually getting sick.

Standing from the vanity, Nova brushed off her leggings. The butterfly was moving in its prison, crawling lazily along the side of the glass. Nova bent down to eye level with it. She could’ve sworn it made eye contact with her.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way,” she murmured. “Maybe in a different reality we’d be friends.” She meant it, much as she hated to admit it to herself. Danna was a lot like her; it was a shame they were too alike, for that’s what got Danna trapped in the first place.

Nova sighed and rose back up. She took off her communicator band, then reached for her coat lying on the bed and headed downstairs. Honey’s trilling voice grew louder. She was singing some song about the beauty of the southern countryside.

Leroy was seated in the dimly lit kitchen, surrounded by lab equipment. Nova saw the samples of Agent N she had snatched in the past few weeks. He nodded in Nova’s direction as form of greeting, too engulfed in his work. As Nova suspected, Honey was cleaning. She was standing on a towel on top of the counter, wiping a wet rag across the higher cabinets.

Nova cleared her throat. “I’m going for a walk. You guys need anything while I’m out?”

They both chorused a “No.” Nova nodded.

“I’ll be back, then.”

“Hey, Adrian...um… come check this out,” Ruby whispered hesitantly from the computer across his. Adrien looked up from his communicator band, the faint trace of a smile on his lips from Nova’s last text. The heart was unexpected, and frankly, not like Nova at all, but it radiated Adrien’s body in warmth. The concentrated set in Ruby’s eyes made the smile fade, however.

They were in the Renegade library and archives, doing research on Nightmare. Adrian had about five open tabs about her most recent sightings and activity. One of the tabs was an article discussing the identity of the Anarchist, but the information was of no use to Adrian.

He got out of his chair and walked around the table to stand behind Ruby. Next to her, Oscar leaned over, craning his neck to see the screen. There was an unopened file in front of Ruby.

“So I was thinking about what you told us, about Nightmare being Ace Anarchy’s niece?” Adrian nodded, and Ruby continued. “Well, his last name is Artino, correct?” Adrian nodded again. “I looked up the name, and well, I guess you should see for yourself.” She clicked on the file. It was a report from about ten years ago filed by his own dad, Hugh Everhart.

Four people found dead. David Artino: age 31. Tala Artino: age 30. Evie Artino: age 11 months. One unnamed man: age unknown. Suspected Anarchist or Roach affiliation.

Forensics confirm all deaths were a result of direct trauma from bullet wounds, without prodigy interference. Prints found on the gun matched both those of the unnamed man and also those of Alec Artino (alias: Ace Anarchy).

There is reason to suspect the deaths of the three family members were done as a killing for hire. The motive for the homicide remain under investigation. See the full report as filed by Hugh Everhart (Captain Chromium) here.

Additional notes: The eldest child, a six year old girl, was not found at the scene. Neighbors have reported no knowledge of her whereabouts. A report has been made to the Renegades missing persons unit.

Oscar whistled lowly. Ruby had highlighted the last paragraph. She was watching the two boys, lips pursed. Adrian read the report, over and over again. Something about it wasn’t right.

“Was the girl ever found?” Oscar asked. Ruby answered his question by opening another file. This one was a missing persons form, dated ten years ago. 

Name: Nova Jean Artino

Age: Six (6) years old

Height: Unknown

Weight: Unknown

Description: Black hair, blue eyes, parents were Italian and Filipino.

Status: Not found

If any information is known, contact the Renegades Missing Persons Unit.

Below the information was a fuzzy picture of a girl, taken by an outdated camera probably. She grinned at the person behind the camera, a wide gap below her upper lip where two front teeth should have been. In her arms was a newborn baby, fast asleep in her sister’s arms. Adrian let out a small gasp. He took the mouse from Ruby and zoomed in on the girl’s face. Her features were chubby, but the hard set of her jaw was unmistakable.

“Great skies,” Oscar breathed. “That’s not...it can’t be..”

“It is,” Ruby confirmed, disbelief in her voice. “That’s our Nova.”

#archenemies spoilers #archenemies #nova artino #adrian everhart #oscar silva #ruby tucker #danna bell #my writing #im sorry lmao

[ma-lemons]

Moments Together, Part 1

Note: Part of me feels wrong for shipping RoseGarden because Ruby doesn’t seem like the one to portray romantic feelings (that doesn’t mean she’s not capable of those feelings just what I’ve seen so far, she’s a kid who has more important things to do, LIKE SAVING THE WORLD and protecting her friends than to fall in love) but luckily my brain doesn’t give a crap and pretends that it’s all fine.

All in all, I expect Oscar to have a crush on Ruby, whether those feelings are reciprocated, well, that’s not up to me. Besides, I’m more interested in the plot of the show than ships, so this is all harmless fun.

Also I thought Ruby and Oscar were two years apart? So why is it that Ruby is now age 17, and Oscar is 14? I mean maybe his birthday hasn’t happened yet... but whatever.

Anyway just a warning, this has slight RoseGarden, but it’s not really a RoseGarden fic, I just want an excuse to write it. Also, I might be taking another break from tumblr again. :/

And, some of these things will clearly not correlate with the show, as I’m writing this as the episodes are being released.

Summary: While in Atlas, the heroes must face the tension and awkwardness that came as a result of them splitting apart. Secrets are revealed and everyone learns a thing or two about trusting those around them, and most importantly, themselves.

———————

Nora Valkyrie thought she was pretty insightful. Like it was clear Pyrrha (rest her soul) had feelings for Jaune, or that when she met her, Ilia was totally soft for Blake.

So it occurred to her quite early that someone possessed affections for her silver-eyed friend. A certain farm boy. Ever since she had watched Oscar land a punch in Ruby’s face in Mistral, she felt there was something there.

As they moved along in their journey, her suspicions only grew more. Oscar would occasionally glance at Ruby, smile shyly whenever she was around, and was overall, gravitated towards her whenever possible.

After she and Jaune has piloted a stolen airship from Argus, they had landed somewhat safely in Atlas, in a forest secluded from the main city. As soon as they had made it, Weiss became awfully silent, and she would barely speak a word to anyone.

“Hey, Weiss,” Ruby murmured, coming over to her partner, placing her hand on her shoulder. Weiss looked up, her face worried.

“Weiss... I know you’re feeling a bit... overhelmed. But I promise you, none of us are gonna let your dad take you away. You’re not going back. You’re staying with us.”

Weiss gave her team leader a small smile, to which Ruby returned with a large grin. There wasn’t a lot of people like Ruby Rose these daya. Someone who was optimistic and believed in the best of people. At that moment, Weiss shrugged off the dark feeling that something bad was going to happen, took a deep breath, and followed Ruby off the ship. Weiss has wondered how they could just leave a stolen airship in the middle of the woods, but according to Klein and Ironwood, someone would be up to pick it soon after and return it back to Argus, claiming that the thieves who stole it were being “promptly dealt with”.

Weiss has contacted Klein earlier in the flight. Her butler, was of course, happy to hear from her, but worried for her safety. She had assured Klein that she was well and safe and asked about him. Her blood turned to ice when she heard that her mother was around more, and Whitley was becoming more and more like her father each day. Weiss’ heart broke, but she told her friends all was well when they had asked her.

Klein had a safe house for them, somewhere near the city. He reassured them that there would be no danger and they could call him for help if needed. Weiss received the location on her scroll, and downloaded it into Bumblebee, so Yang could drive them all there. Klein was sworn to secrecy of his brief knowledge of the issue at hand. He knew that they had stolen a ship and needed a place to stay so they could break into Atlas Academy.

Atlas was colder than Argus, and everyone was shivering, since none of them had packed winter clothing. Weiss was the only one slightly prepared, yet she was the one who was the most used to the weather.

“Atlas is too cold, isn’t it?” Ren quipped, noting a shivering Nora. His girlfriend wrapped her arms around him for warmth. “I’ll say. When we get to the safe house, it’s time for a change of wardrobe.”

Maria laughed lightly. At first, she seemed annoyed by Nora’s constant laughter and excitement. Now, she was used to it. In fact, she enjoyed it.

Yang turned her head back at the passengers. “Now that Ozpin’s come out to play, Oscar, what’s the game plan?”

The young boy looked down shyly, as everyone’s gazes landed on him. He was getting used to everyone’s wariness of him, but he didn’t really like it. Even Ruby, who believed in him the most, seemed to be keeping her distance from him.

“Uh, well. Oz says we’ll rest up for a few days. He says Qrow will contact Ironwood and set our plans in motion. Our main goal... he says our main goal is to find the Winter Maiden so we can unlock the relic. After that, we’ll be attending a party for Whitley Schnee, in which a some of us will be providing distractions, while the rest of us will be retrieving the relic.”

Weiss rolled her eyes. “Find the Winter Maiden... cause that’ll be easy. Has it occurred to any of you that we’ve never found any of the maidens? Cinder is evil, and dead, and we only found Vernal because of Yang’s mom. And Vernal is also dead.”

Ruby noticed Yang tensing up. Weiss was right. The Huntsmen never had to look for the Maidens... they just kind of appeared when necessary.

Oscar piped up. “Well, Oz says that since the Maidens are some of the few individuals that possess magic, he can feel their auras. So he’ll know when she’s close.”

“So you’re telling me we’re gonna have to basically just wander around until Ozpin’s senses go off?” Qrow questioned. He hadn’t entirely forgiven Ozpin yet. It had taken much convincing for him to even look at Oscar.

Ruby looked over to her uncle, trying to reassure him with her eyes. “Hey Qrow, it’ll be fine. I promise.”

Ruby seemed to be making a lot of promises these days.

As the moved along through the thick snow, the travelers discussed their plans for their days they would spend in the safe house. Qrow quickly called Ironwood to update him on the situation, now that they were closer to an area where there was a signal. Maria planned to train Ruby to use her silver eye power correctly, and Ruby and Oscar made plans to do hand-to-hand combat more. Jaune, Nora and Ren would probably spar occasionally, and maybe check out Atlas’ scene. Weiss wanted to contact her sister, but decided she would go out to buy everyone winter clothing. Blake hastily agreed to join her, in hopes of avoiding Yang’s anger for a while. Yang was silent throughout the ride, though no one could blame her. Blake wanted so badly to talk to her, but realized that would have to wait for another day.

What seemed to be like hours passed. Jaune, Ren and Nora had managed to fall asleep. Weiss was listening intently to Maria read. Blake stared off into space, seemingly disinterested in everything around her. Qrow, surprisingly didn’t have a flask in hand, and was staring at his scroll. That left Ruby talking to Oscar.

“Oscar, you look like a little prince in your new outfit!” Ruby giggled. She still hadn’t gotten over Oscar’s change in wardrobe.

The young boy scowled at the word “little”. “I’m not small, Ruby.”

“Considering I’m one of the shortest people here, ranking about 5’4, and you’re shorter than that, I’d say yeah, you’re pretty little.”

Oscar pouted. “Let’s see who gets the last laugh when I grow taller.”

Ruby’s eyes widened, and she pretended to look intimidated. “Ooh, when Oscar gets taller! I forgot you haven’t gone through puberty yet!”

Oscar was shocked. “I—what? When did you become such a bully?” He leaned over and poked the Huntress in the shoulder. Ruby, amused, waggled her fingers at Oscar. “I wouldn’t try anything, farm boy. I’ll tickle you till you die laughing.”

“And how do you know I’m ticklish?” he asked defensively.

“Oh, please. Everyone’s ticklish. You look like the ticklish type.”

“What... what does that even mean?”

“Hey, keep it down, some of us are trying to read!” said Weiss, from her little corner near Maria.

“I was about to say the same thing, Miss Weiss! Great minds think alike!” the elderly lady beamed. Weiss smiled back.

“Hey,” came Yang’s voice from the front. “Wake everyone up. We’ve made it to the safe house.”

In front of them loomed a large cabin, shrouded by trees. It looked safe enough. Yang made out a deer in the greenery. Seemed peaceful.

Weiss proceeded to wake up Nora and Ren. Jaune was a different story, he was snoring loudly and refused to wake up until Maria thunked her book on his head.

The teams and adults made their way to the house. Atlas. They were finally here.

Ruby looked at Weiss, who looked better than she did on the aircraft. She would be sure to stay close to her, to make sure she wouldn’t panic or get hurt. There was no way any people would be left behind on her watch.

That included Oscar. No matter what, she would protect him. It was rather strange; despite Ozpin being sketchy and mysterious, Ruby couldn’t bring herself to hate him. And she definitely couldn’t hate Oscar. He was growing on her. She didn’t mind, she appreciated his company. He was a young boy, and what he needed now more than ever was a friend, not people coming after him and attacking him for things he didn’t do.

Sighing, Ruby settled down, underneath one of the fleece blankets Klein had left for them. He had stocked food and supplies throughout the house. Ren and Jaune got dinner cooking, while everyone else rested.

It was a long journey, and no one was quite sure what the end result would be, but as for now, they were satisfied that they could be together. Safe.

——————————————————————

So I know this is probably riddled with grammar issues and plot holes (I haven’t watched the past 3 episodes, I have a faint idea of what’s going on). but do you think if I clean this up a bit, should I post this on AO3?

#moments together #rwby #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #team rwby #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #lie ren #team jnpr #oscar pine #qrow branwen #winter schnee #whitley schnee #jacques schnee #ozpin #slight rosegarden? #bees? #idk even what this is #moments together pt 1 #how many times did i say safe #ill try not to focus on ships #but if it happens it happens

[littlemisssquiggles]

RWBY Musings #44: A Squiggle Meister’s Views on Whitley Schnee. The Proverbial Black Sheep of the Schnee Siblings or the overlooked Diamond in the Rough?

An uncommon character for me to muse about, I know. I don’t generally make it habit to ponder about this character but, oddly enough, recently I got thinking about Whitley Schnee. Mind you, Whitley didn’t exactly receive the most favourable of introductions back during the events of RWBY Volume 4.

However, in spite of this, it didn’t deter from making him come off as a less than interesting character.

I wanted to take today to not really do any sort of in-depth analysis on Whitley but rather share one or two ponderings about him that I’ve considered. To think, this all started with just one thought.

Whitley with the Good Hair

Imagine...the same Whitley Schnee we all know from RWBY but with fluffy, unkempt, wavy, hair. 

I am not even joking with this. Not gonna lie either. Whitley’s hair kinda bugs me a little bit. It’s so perfectly well-kept all the time that at moments when he’s onscreen, it almost appears too perfect if you actually get what I’m saying and I don’t sound like a complete imbecile bringing up this point. Never have I figured I’d have to use the words ‘outlandishly neat hair’ to describe a character.

In an odd way, I pegged Whitley to be the type to be born with hair that’s not exactly like his sisters. I noticed from the Schnee Family portrait in their residence that Jacques’ hair doesn’t seem to be as naturally white as snow as he’d like others to presume.

As a matter of fact, in the portrait, Jacques’ hair is predominantly black but while his mustache is still dark, you can tell that his hair was starting to grey a bit from age. That’s right, I said, grey. Not white.

However, when we met Jacques in the series, both his hair and mustache were completely chalk white. Give the man a big red and white bucket of fried chicken and he’d be Colonel Sanders.

A dye job perhaps? I wouldn’t put it past him. The series has already painted Jacques as such a ‘wannabe Schnee’, that it wouldn’t surprise me not one bit if he did change his hair colour to fit with his new Schnee title. This actually makes me curious about Jacques’ origin.

What kind of upbringing and background would a man such as that have to come from to become this kind of tyrannical person? So far, we know naught of Jacques’ previous life beyond the fact that he married into the Schnee Family and was only interested in Mama Schnee for her name. This is a man who wanted to the wealth, power and status that the Schnee name brought that he was willingly to feign romantic interest in the Daughter of the Head of the Schnee Dust Company to do so.

This is a man who wanted to be somebody. So with that thought in mind, this pegs the question. How much of a nobody did Jacques used to be before becoming a Schnee?

This makes me wonder if even having children, the proclaimed heirs, is nothing but another superficial front for Jacques to hide behind. It makes me wonder if Jacques has any real intention of ever giving up being the Head of the Schnee Dust Company. This is a man who stole the integrity of a well-known and trusted name in Remnant and tarnished it for his own egotistical greed.

Would a man as devious as that wholeheartedly and willingly just hand the reigns to someone else, even if that someone was his own spawn and rightful heir? I don’t think so. I think Jacques might even end up double crossing Whitley, the current heir, in the end and using him to heighten his running in the company.

This brings me back to Whitley again. This post is supposed to be about the youngest Schnee Sibling after all and not his bad-minded father. However Jacques will be mentioned now and again because the type of person Whitely is now, is as a result of Jacques’ grooming.

Resuming talk about his hair. Soft, silky, snow-white hair seems to be a hereditary trait amongst the Schnee bloodline. That being said, what if...like his father, Whitley’s hair is different from his sisters. Though it may be white in colour as a Schnee’s head would be, the texture of his hair is not of his family.

Imagine if...Whitley’s hair is naturally wavier than his sister’s, creating this constantly dishevelled look that he hates because it’s not the vision of him that his father wants of him and because of this, Whitley desperately tries to keep it under control.  Whitley certainly strikes me as the type. He’s so snooty all the time and his hair oddly mimics that level of contempt.

I’m kind of chuckling to myself imagining for Atlas Arc where Whitley is forced to play nice and befriend our heroes because Jacques is making him act the part as a means of gathering intel. But that’s not why I’m laughing. I’m laughing because I’m envisioning Whitley hanging out with the Rosebuds: Ruby and Oscar and the two, mostly Ruby’s idea, drag the poor Schnee boy to an area where there’s water.

And while Ruby and Oscar go for a quick dip, Whitley cautiously chooses to stay dry, remarking that he doesn’t quite enjoy going to pool areas because he doesn’t like getting his hair wet. However Ruby and Oscar don’t buy the excuse and hatch a plan to get the Schnee boy to join them. So while Ruby distracts Whitley, Oscar sneaks up behind him and playfully shoves him into the water.

It was originally meant as a playful joke to get the pretentious rich boy to loosen up a little but the entire act ends up infuriating Whitley. Turns out, Whitley is just as harsh with words when he’s pissed like his sister Weiss.

But as Whitley is uncharacteristically yelling at our veteran rose buds, Ruby and Oscar are in awe.

Not for Whitley losing his cool, which was a first, but because of what the water had done to his hair. When Whitley had fell into the water, it washed away whatever chemical hair products that was keeping it at bay because Whitley now stood with a full head of the fluffiest curly white locks the two had ever seen.

He looked like a completely different person; albeit while also looking like an angry lollipop with a head of white cotton candy.

And upon realizing what had happened based on Ruby and Oscar’s shared surprised reactions, Whitley becomes incredibly embarrassed at the fact that his secret was out and before anyone could tell him to stop, Whitley immediately climbs out of the water and storms off.  

If Whitley had tougher hair, he’d probably trust Klein to comb it because he’s the only one who fully understands Whitley’s need to please his father.

Just picture, Whitley Schnee---the real Whitley Schnee with his natural fluffy ‘bed head’ posed disgruntled before a mirror, looking disgustedly at himself, surrounded by varying hair styling utensils and products while Klein works his magic to get the young boy looking like a proper boy; just as daddy would like it.    

Yup. Whitley definitely strikes me as that type. The type who would have wild, unruly hair but is able to pull it off quite handsomely because, though a little more difficult to maintain that his sisters’, Whitley actually has really good hair. Whitley with the good hair. He just needs to learn how to maintain it but unfortunately doesn’t want to.

To Whitely, while the wild natural ‘bed head’ look might suit him better because he’d look less like a mini-Jacques with it, due to the young man’s obsession with living up to his father’s expectations of him, he keeps this side hidden because...the real him isn’t up to his father’s standards. Neat Whitley is and that’s how he wants to keep it.

Yep. Though this is all mostly me just speculating, I can totally see this being canon because as I’ll say again, Whitley strikes me as that type of character. The type that probably has another side to him that feels more true to himself but chooses not to show it often or at all. The type that would need someone to help him with his hair and other things because he doesn’t know how to maintain this delusion of himself on his own. Someone to help him keep his guise up, quickly painting all the cracks in his mask whenever  one of his many pretences start to fall apart and his real nature and feelings start to leak out.

The type where if the slightest thing isn’t perfect, he’ll completely unravel and wouldn’t know how to piece himself back together without help from those who truly care about him because he’d been forced to suppress himself for so long. At least, this is how I’m interpreting Whitley’s character.

Apple Doesn’t Fall Far From the Tree

‘...It’s foolish, not to do what father asks...’

‘Are you jealous? Is that it? Whatever do you mean? Is that why you hate me? Are you jealous of my abilities? Of Winter’s? Hmm. Not really. Honestly I find it barbaric. It’s beneath people like me, like father...’

Y’know what’s funny? If you pay attention to some of Whitley’s dialogue from V4, you can interpret a lot about his character regardless of whether it was the writers’ intention for this assumption or not. For starters, what I’m gathering from this is that Whitley, contrary to what Weiss might think of him right now, doesn’t hate his sisters’.

Between Weiss and Winter, I feel a stronger connection with Weiss resonating from Whitley. I certainly get the vibe that he likes her more than Winter.

‘...You’re strong, like Winter. You never liked Winter. True. But you can’t deny her resolve...’

What’s interesting to note is when Weiss called Whitley out for disliking Winter, he didn’t deny it. As a matter of fact, he openly admitted it without the slightest hint of remorse. However when Weiss questioned Whitley about hating her, he never exactly said he did. His answer was a nonchalant ‘not really’. So Whitley dislikes Winter but not Weiss. So why is that?

Here’s my deduction. I think the reason why Whitley may resent Winter is because in his head, not only was she the first to defy their father but she was one whose actions encouraged Weiss to follow in her defiant footsteps; choosing to study to become a huntress away at Beacon rather than in Atlas where Jacques continue to keep a very tight reigns on her.

Winter was the first to break free from her cage and started this whole debacle of disobedience. If Winter had just stayed in line, then Whitley wouldn’t have lost not one but both of his sisters.

‘...You seem different. And you’ve been gone. I’ll have you know, I didn’t stop growing while you were away at Beacon...’

In rewatching this scene where Whitley was first introduced, this line he said to Weiss really stuck out to me. It kind of implies Whitley’s true feelings about Weiss leaving here. It tells me, as the viewer, that Whitley might be harbouring some unspoken feelings of bitterness towards his sister’s departure for Beacon.

I’m not sure how close the Schnee Siblings were growing up but it is safe to assume that there was some level of closeness as family, right? The impression I got here is that to Whitley, with his sisters around there was the slight comfort of knowing that he wasn’t alone. Even if their relationship was shaky, his sisters were always present in his life at all times. But because Weiss chose to defy their father, like Winter did before her, for a second time in his life, Whitley lost yet another sister.

His big sister had left home...left Jacques...left him and why? To forge her own path outside of the sheltered lifestyle their father had laid out for them.

There is no doubt that Whitley is loyal to Jacques to a fault. He’s such a trained canary with the way how he just blindly follows Jacques around and adheres to everything he says and does; that it makes me wonder if this kid is even human and not some robo-child programmed to be subservient to the whim of Jacques Schnee.

Even Penny Pollendina felt more human than machine than Whitley and she was the real deal.

That being said, I also believe there is no denying that Whitley...in his own Whitley way, loves his sisters. Particularly Weiss and when they both left...it probably hurt. A lot more than he alludes to. Perhaps he feels like his sisters both abandoned him. While Weiss and Winter stayed close and held on to each other, Whitley was left alone with only Jacques as his guide.

Not even Mama Schnee was around, as it would seem. Too preoccupied with her own drunkard stupor to be there for her own son.

Speaking of which, did anyone else notice that in V4, Jacques keeps a picture of Whitley on his desk in his study but one of his own wife on the shelf in the corner of the room?

What does that say? Whitley is certainly special to Jacques. I mean, he is the only he has left. The only one that hasn’t pulled away. His little perfectly groomed puppet that he occasionally likes to parade around for all of Atlas to see what a caring father he is including every wealthy Atlesian aristocrat dumb enough to fall for their act and invest in Jacques. It’s a never-ending game of manipulation where Whitley is the sole MVP.

However the weird thing is, I don’t get Whitley’s real motive for following Jacques. Though he’s painted as a puppet, the way how Whitley played Weiss---oh I’m sorry, based on the way Weiss claimed Whitley played her like a fiddle while he himself didn’t deny that that was his intentions from the start, makes me wonder if he could have his own schemes underway.

Whitley is such an elusive character to me that I can’t tell if his faithfulness to Jacques is out of blind love, a son’s desperate need for his father’s constant appraisal and acknowledgment or...could Whitley have his own plans for the Schnee Dust Company and Jacques is just too ignorant to notice his own son’s deceit?

I brought up this hunch in another musing about Whitley. Sure Jacques is probably just manipulating Whitley and using him in the same fashion he does for everything and everyone around him. But what if...the twist is that Whitley is also using Jacques and plans on giving him his just desserts.

They say karma is a cold-hearted bitch so wouldn’t it be ironic and a fitting punishment for Jacques to get taken down by the very perfect child he’s been grooming to be like him in the same fashion he duped Mama Schnee? A nice addition to Whitley’s character is if of all the Schnee children, he’s the one that cared about their mother the most.

Though like father, like son, I like the idea of Whitley being a momma’s boy too; sharing a close bond with Mamma Schnee from since birth. I imagined, before Weiss’ 10th birthday, Mamma Schnee was probably a very loving mother who adored all her children. However Whitley was the spoiled one because he was the baby of the bunch. But after hearing the truth that the man she’s been married to for years didn’t truly love her, the news changed Mamma Schnee and suddenly, she just wasn’t the same caring person anymore.

What if...as a young boy, Whitley was very close to his mother and hated the pain his own father caused her growing up. So much so that he’s been plotting his own devious scheme for years, smartly playing the role of ‘the good child’ as a ploy to gain Jacques’ trust before removing him from the picture as revenge. That’s one cool hunch for Whitley’s character story, dontcha think?

The Phantom of the Schnee Dust Company

Speaking of ideas for Whitley’s character story, this brings me to a next theory I’m wanna talk about.  

Does Whitley Schnee secretly have summoning powers like his sisters?

Winter Schnee once told Weiss that every member of the Schnee family has the ability to summon and have done so for generations. She made mention of this back in V3. That being said, I wonder if the same can be said for Whitley, who isn't a huntsman per say, but certainly has the potential to unlock this kind of power given his lineage, right?

What’s to say he hasn’t already? Perhaps, Whitley already awakened his semblance but no one else knows of this. Not even Jacques. I believe Whitley Schnee probably does possess summoning powers but unlike his sisters, who have both fully embraced their potential, Whitley despises his powers and thus, suppresses his abilities.

We’ve seen two Schnees accept their powers upon unlocking them. What would happen to one who’s unlocked their power but shows resistance?

This is going to sound weird to say but perhaps, Whitley’s Schnee power is surprisingly the strongest of the three siblings; even more powerful than his sisters’ combined; probably mirroring that of their grandfather’s skill level at that age.

Wouldn’t be surprised if Whitley associates the Schnee’s hereditary semblance with being a curse due to the rebellious nature that its current wielders seem to adopt once fully realizing their potential. After all, look at Winter and Weiss. They both left Jacques’ cold clutches upon acknowledging their strength as huntresses.

What if...Jacques has drilled into Whitley’s head that having such powers is a curse in itself because it made his sisters’ insolent and thus, Whitley sees it the same way too.

The more I consider it, the more I’m falling in love with the concept of Whitley having summoning abilities but because he chooses to ignore the existence of such powers within himself and thus represses his own semblance, he’s lost control of his own summoning.

Imagine...Whitley being haunted by a summon he unintentionally manifested in the real world? Besides having an arsenal of summons to chose from, both Winter and Weiss seem to have a signature summon that they call upon the most. For Winter, it’s her Beowolves. For Weiss, it’s her Arma Gigas.

So what if...Whitley’s summon is a Geist? A literal phantom that can take the form of anything it possesses. A creature of many masks, no different than its amateur summoner.

The Geist, being a summon, acts on the will of Whitley, its summoner. However because Whitley has been suppressing his powers for so long, he doesn’t quite know how to control the summon. Similar to how Weiss lost control and accidentally summoned a Boarbatusk at the charity ball out of her frustration with one of its disrespectful patrons, imagine Whitley’s Geist manifesting itself during moments when his emotions at its peak and the creature acts out on those negative emotions.

I’m just envisioning a side story for the upcoming Atlas Arc where some strange occurrences have been happening around Atlas that put the Schnee Dust Company in the spotlight. Competitor company buildings going up in flames. Missing former employees who were all reported to have quit the job in recent times. Severe injuries and in some cases, death, surrounding people who were in recent alleged heated contact with head of the company: Jacque Schnee; etc. At first the incidences were suspected to be White Fang activity, even though the White Fang haven’t been relevant since the Triumph of Haven and the reformation of the Brotherhood. But due to the unusual nature of the cases and the fact that no evidence was found at the scene of the crimes, these incidences eventually became closed cases. But that didn’t stop it from creating negative propaganda that brought the Schnee Dust Company to the forefront of the Atlesian headlines; catching the attention of the public including Weiss and Winter.

Imagine...Weiss and Winter working together to solve the mystery of what was going on within their family company while subsequently concocting a plan to remove Jacques Schnee once and for all under the assumption that he’s been orchestrating the events as an interrogation tactic to ward off competition while gaining the sympathy of the public eye. So in the beginning, Jacques Schnee was believed to be the main culprit. However, in the midst of it all, all traces of added evidence started pointing towards the true mastermind: Whitley Schnee who had been using his newly awakened semblance to get his father ahead and keep him at the top.

But do you know what the bigger twist would be? That Jacques was oblivious to Whitley’s powers and his intentions of using them the way he did.

Even better. Wanna hear the biggest twist? Whitley is oblivious to his own powers or at least, decides not accept that they aren’t real and his to control. While the rich boy was aware of the strange occurrences was due to a monster, he called ‘The Phantom’, what he didn’t know was that the beast was his summon. He always figured the beast was a ghost sent by karma to haunt him. But what he didn’t realize was that the wild summon was a manifestation of his own suppressed powers he’d been trying to hide even though they’d been growing stronger. So strong that’d become erratic with the summoned Geist appearing chaotic in form.

I just would love to see Whitley as a summoner; particularly an antagonistic one. I wonder if this is what the CRWBY Writers might be alluding to with his character or at least it’s one way to look at it. At first I figured he might’ve been the one to have no powers. But imagine if he does but uses them for all the wrong reasons; be it intentional or not.

Picture....a Battle of the Schnees where for the first time in RWBY history, Winter and Weiss tag-team to take down a crazed and broken Whitley who is revealed to be a summoner like his sisters and whose own summon had been attacking victims on Whitley’s behalf.

Of course, like I mentioned before, Whitley is unaware of this because he’s been suppressing his powers just he’d be suppressing so many other things about himself, forcibly trying to keep it all at bay to maintain his facade of perfection.

But in the end, it all falls apart and the Schnee boy suffers a mental breakdown with his own monstrous phantom lashing out because of it. So it’s up to his big sisters to come to his rescue.

Doesn’t that sound like a cool story to tell?

I want so much from the Atlas Arc. So many side stories I wanna see done and this is one of them. And if it leads to Whitley receiving an inkling of redemption; y’know reconciling things with his sisters with the three Schnee Siblings finally coming together as a family which then leads to them working together to put an end to Jacques’ reign, wouldn’t that be an interesting way to conclude Weiss’ story arc with her family on a positive light?

I know this is something I’d love to see as part of the Atlas Arc. But again, I’m not a writer for RWBY so I am curious to see what Miles and Kerry has in store for us going forward, particularly for Whitley.  

A Better Whitley

Although I originally wrote him off as a bad character, I’m actually intrigued as to where the CRWBY Writers are going to go with Whitley’s development, particularly regarding his role in the upcoming Atlas Arc.

I know for a fact that Whitley will be a major player in Weiss’ side of the story, for sure.

Don’t get me wrong, I still desire for Whitley to be an antagonist or rival character to Oscar Pine in the arena for Ruby’s affections.

While I doubt Whitley would have any genuine affection towards Ruby beyond using her in a similar fashion his own father used his mother, I think Whitley would be the perfect Ying to Oscar’s Yang to give the farm boy a well-deserved shove towards realizing his true feelings for the Silver Eyed Girl.

I love the idea of Whitley being a rival to Oscar. But believe it or not, I also like the idea of the two becoming allies too if possible. Whitley looks like he could use more people in his life that care about him besides his father. Maybe even Klein cares deeply for Whitley---the father figure he deserves but he just never acknowledges it. I think Oscar can be a good friend for Whitley.

While I don’t ship Rich Farmers as a relationship (proud RoseGardener over here), I do like the thought of them being a friendship. If Rubes becomes Oscar’s closest best friend, then can the precious farm boy begrudgingly become the snooty rich boy’s best friend or...the closest thing to it?

The kind of friendship that I imagine Oscar and Whitley having is the one where either originally hated each other’s guts but when you eliminate the object that made them butt heads in the first place (like Whitley pursuing Ruby and Oscar becoming jealous for of it), turns out the two might actually get along quite well. May even like each other...or at least respect the other enough to not kill them in their sleep when they piss them off.

An unlikely friendship that thrives on a shit ton of inside jokes and even more sarcastic quips at the other’s expense. The kind of friendship that makes others question why and how the two participants befriended each other when their attitude makes it seem like they hate each other when in actuality, they love each other like two inglorious bastard brothers bred from the same illegitimate father called anarchy.

So yeah, while I’m drawn to the concept of Whitley being a rival and a mini boss character, I’d also like to learn more about his character in hopes that he may be redeemed.

Though not much was revealed about Whitley back in V4, it did hint of there being more layers to him and I’m hoping we get to explore those layers once the group returns to Atlas.

I just don’t want for Whitley to be another throw away character who’s just there for the sake of moving the plot along or being an unnecessary red herring. I don’t want Whitley to be another Vernal or Professor Lionheart. Both characters had the potential for more, the writers just chose not to flesh them out before cutting straight to their inevitable deaths in the Haven Battle.

While very straightforward, this left me feeling more like these two characters were merely just plot devices rather than what they’re supposed to be---actual characters. While the CRWBY writers didn’t necessarily have to keep these characters around for future arcs, my complaint here is that they could’ve done a much better job at fleshing them out.

As I said, make them feel more like characters. Never mind that they were meant to die, at least make me care about their deaths.

I don’t want this to be the case with Whitley or any character during the Atlas Arc. Which is why I’m hoping that the Conclusion to the Mistral Arc in V6 leading into the Atlas Arc would be handled much better. Regarding Whitley, the writers have already established some keen plot points to assist with composing his part in ongoing story.

I just pray that Miles and Kerry learnt from their mistakes during the last two seasons and will work towards making sure that the seasons ahead are done much better.

Despite being painting as this conniving person, when I recall V4, I don’t remember Whitley actually doing anything that’d suggest that. As a matter of fact, all the allegations that Weiss made about Whitley were pointed out by her without the show visually showing that he committed these crimes. There was a lot of ‘Tell. Not Show’ for volumes 4 and 5 and I sincerely hope this is a habit that the CRWBY will drop for the upcoming V6.

They could’ve easily not have given Weiss a brother at all. This is the thing though. Why was Whitley introduced? In the scope of things, his character wasn’t really necessary because the past seasons had already established the tension of Weiss’ relationship with Jacques and that was enough to drive her own arc during the V4 Split.

It’s not like Whitley’s introduction in V4 actually acted as a good catalyst for the events that happened to Weiss during the season that lead to her outburst at the charity ball after party to her fall out with Jacques to even her departure.

Did Whitley give Weiss the brilliant idea to present an expensive painting as part of an auction to help raise funds for Beacon, knowing full well that Weiss would fail in that regard? No.

.Did Jacques give Weiss reason to bring up the painting during their fight so that Weiss could have leverage to make mention that Whitley supported her in her idea only for the boy to turn on Weiss in the moment and take Jacques side, showing just how two faced he could be? Nope. The charity painting and the Atlesian Elite’s total disregard for the People in Vale following the Fall of Beacon was what drove Weiss to spiral out of control the way she did. Whitley Schnee played no part in that scene yet somehow Weiss blamed him like her being punished by Jacques was his doing when really...what did he do though?

Seriously. In the grander scope of things, Whitley did nothing for V4 except talk. And even when he did talk it’s not like he was being a clever snake, whispering in Weiss’ ear and encouraging her to pursue her own personal ideas that in hindsight, would please her but knowingly irk Jacques.

 Nope. All he did was play nice the entire time yet when Jacques took away her heiress status, there was Weiss accusing Whitley of being devious the entire time and there he was smiling and acting like this was all true. But in reality, nothing happened on screen to prove this.

You could remove Whitley from the story in V4 and the plot wouldn’t have played out any differently. I’m sorry to say this for all the diehard Whitley fans in the FNDM but his character added nothing more for V4 beyond giving Weiss a punching bag to point fingers at for the consequences of her own actions against Jacques; which wasn’t even necessary. Up until V4, there has been no prior mention of Weiss ever having a brother. We knew she had Winter since her debut in V3 and we knew of Jacques because he was already established as the authoritarian father she was trying to avoid. The one whose crimes she constantly found herself having to pay for and whose royal test she had to shoulder.

But there was never any mentioning of Whitley at all. Neither Schnee sisters didn’t even comment about Whitley being in the picture during their one on one talk before Winter’s leave in V3 C6. Jacques was mentioned, naturally. But no Whitley.

So then why does his character exist? What are the CRWBY writers’ setting him up to truly be? Is he indeed the proverbial black sheep of the siblings, driven by the negativity of feeling abandoned by both of his older sisters or...will he be the diamond in the rough---a conniving trickster on the surface but his trickery is merely another one of his acts to conceal the ambitions of more caring soul.

Whatever it is, I hope it isn’t another poor plot device and actually fits within the context of the story and the overall direction the Atlas Arc is leading towards.

So to conclude...

As I’ll say again, I don’t want Whitley to be another Vernal or Lionheart otherwise it’d just be boring. If he does have a bigger role to play, I hope it’s a well conducted one that gives him more depth than what was glimpsed in V4.

I’m even hoping for a twist or perhaps twists with his character like what I theorized. Overall, whatever Whitley’s story is, I hope it’s handled with enough tact to leave his fans happy and satisfied.

♦ More RWBY Musings by Squiggles

~LittleMissSquiggles (2018)

#rwby #whitley schnee #oscar pine #whitley and weiss #rwby volume 6 predictions #rwby theories #jacques schnee #rwby musings

[aurantia-ignis]

please do pokespe, specialshipping, and gold!

This turned out way, wayyyyyy longer than expected so I’m putting it under a cut!

PokespeFavorite character: Tie up between Red and Yellow, I think!Red is a wonderful boy; courageous, kind, intuitive. He’s got a good heart, a great head for battle, and a passion to achieve his goals with his companion Pokemon. Blaine’s words about him always struck me:”Pokemon Trainer. Someone who spends his life with, trusts, and is trusted by his Pokemon. Someone like you, Red.” He may not be a perfect child (overconfidence in his earlier chapters stick out quite a bit, and of course, they showcase his character development!), but, like Blaine, Red is everything I’d aspired to be as a Pokemon Trainer. Yellow is a lovely child with a golden heart. She represents a sort of kindness that I sometimes wish I had more of. Her battle with Lance yielded this conversation:“Pokemon aren’t tools for killing! Even this battle of yours has hurt not only humans, but Pokemon as well!”“I hate fighting… I’m truly sad when any Pokemon are injured… Even my opponent’s!” “Aren’t Pokemon your friends too!?“ Despite her pacifist nature, she’s willing to fight with all she has to protect those she cares for. She feels guilt and pain whenever she has to hurt Pokemon, but goes through it anyway, to fight for what she believes in: humans and Pokemon living in harmony together. And though she may not have the same sort of battle sense that Red does, she can still pack quite a punch, and she has a few ingenious ideas of her own, too (see the Team Rocket on the ship battle).  Least Favorite character: Pryce, I think…? His entire arc was just ridiculously melodramatic, and it didn’t make a lot of sense ^^;  5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon):Red/Yellow, Green/Blue, Daisy/Bill, Gold/Silver/Crystal in a happy threesome family, Ruby/SapphireCharacter I find most attractive:It might have been N or Steven, but unfortunately, Yamamoto’s art when he was drawing those two was horrendous. ^^;; I mean, dude, noses don’t work like that! So probably Lance from the Mato era… or Red. Character I would marry:Maybe Falkner? He has a day job and he’s a good guy, and he makes gym leader! Otherwise, Steven’s very good husband material. Character I would be best friends with:Maybe Ruby? I too would like to groom my Pokemon endlessly and exclaim over how beautiful they are.A random thought:The Pokemon world is just so fantastical, there’s no way to make it realistic without having to revamp almost 70% of the entire world. ^^: Despite Pokespe seeming like a semi-realistic portrayal of it, there are way too many questions about the way things work in there that a reader still has to suspend disbelief in order to enjoy fully XD;;; An unpopular opinion:I really, really don’t much like Whitwo. :/ My canon OTP:Red/Yellow! The two of them share similar worldviews, something that I think is instrumental for building a good relationship.Red’s words in the same chapter as the Blaine one from above: “Mewtwo’s a pretty scary creature, all right. But all it knows is being held prisoner in a lab. All it knows about humans is that we’re arrogant and cruel. But what if it learns something different? What if it learns that not all humans treat other creatures badly? Find out, Blaine. Teach it.” His optimism and willingness to believe in the world is absolutely beautiful. Yellow had a similar scene in her battle with Lance. “It’s true that humans have done selfish things, taking away Pokemon’s homelands… Stripping them of their food supply… I’ve seen the results of that on my journey!”And later, with Dragonite: "Of course you feel rage toward humans. But think…. His way isn’t the answer! Humans don’t deserve death–any more than Pokemon! Humans and Pokemon can live together! I know it!”Despite knowing how terrible humans can be, both of them still believe that the rest of the world can come to understand things the way they do; that Pokemon and humans are all beings that deserve a chance to live in the same world, in peace and harmony. I love these scenes, not just for the parallels between my ship, but because they really define Red and Yellow as who they truly are. As a note, I put this under canon despite there being no official confirmations or confessions, because I think there are enough scenes (especially in the later volumes) that blatantly hint at the creators pushing them together. Although I’m not completely happy with all of them (some of the writing is way too forced, man), I’m glad that at least Kusaka seems to want them together. XD;

Non-canon OTP: Green and Blue! Although they don’t have a lot of shippy moments in canon (most of the time he’s just going TSK WHAT A NOISY WOMAN at her), I like their pair character dynamics, and the thought of their everyday life together never fails to make me laugh. XDMost bad*** character:Red! But also Ruby. The boy is very, very cool. Other than the humans, Mewtwo and Pika are pretty badass Pairing I am not a fan of:Black/White. I did enjoy the BW arc, but I felt like the two protags suffered from not enough character and relationship development. I was more inclined to ship White with N based on their writing, except of course canon moments obviously support BlackWhite more. For me, however, a few ‘romantic moments’ without any proper relationship developments don’t make me feel like shipping two characters. Bill and Daisy didn’t get any, either, but they’re supporting characters who don’t appear very much, after all. Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another):GOLD. I love the boy, he was so amazing and hilarious, but the fact is, his character arc was completely screwed. Aaaaand I’m going to elaborate on this in the last section of this ask.Favourite friendship:Red and his mons. Also Yellow and her mons. Between the humans, Gold and Silver make me particularly happy, but the Kanto Four together are great too. Specialshippingwhen or if I started shipping it: I think I thought of it as a jokeship at first, when Prof Oak was thinking “Does this child have any thought in her head that isn’t connected with Red”, but I only really started seeing them as a serious ship at the end of the Yellow arc, when Kitty/Piisuke’s String Shot was connecting them wwwmy thoughts:I uh…. I think I covered this in the OTP section above HAHAHAWhat makes me happy about them:The way they’re both happy together just talking about Pokemon and loving them What makes me sad about them:The awkward forced romantic hints that popped up here and there after Mato left :Things done in fanfic that annoys me:I can’t stand it when they’re written out of character. :/ Things I look for in fanfic:Anything in-character. HAHAHAHA. I also appreciate when, despite the humans being the main focus, the Pokemon also play an active role in the story. Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: I guess I could sort of see Red going with Blue and Yellow with Green… My happily ever after for them:Yellow opens a Pokemon Sanctuary somewhere and Red takes over the Gym of that town. GoldHow I feel about this character: As I mentioned above, Gold was completely screwed up by the writers. Up until he read that letter from Professor Oak in Vol 14, he had just been fighting on his own terms. Yet suddenly, when he received a letter that he had originally hoped to contain tips on how to win an upcoming battle, he goes into an existential crisis because Professor Oak didn’t acknowledge that he has any ‘special abilities’! “What about MY abilities? There must be something! Don’t I have an ability that places me alongside the other Pokemon trainers?! TELL MEEEEEEEE!” That melodramatic panel of his silhouette is just… melodramatic. He respected Prof Oak, but not to any extreme degree. Why would he have felt so lost and denied just because a Professor he had barely met a few times didn’t know what his abilities were?To top the ridiculous off, the scene continues with them finding an extra page of the letter and going “WAIT GUESS WHAT. PROF OAK THINKS YOU’RE A BREEDER” and Gold conveniently hatches the Pichu egg at the same moment. And they fly off to fight. And then everything’s okay again? ….DID I MISS SOMETHING! *angry Timon noises* All that angst a page before would have been easily avoided if they just took every page out to begin with! And if it was solved so easily, it obviously isn’t worth angsting over! Gold could have been a great, great character, if only they hadn’t made his point of realization “YEAH I’M A BREEDER BECAUSE PROF OAK SAYS SO”. )o)All the people I ship romantically with this character: None, reallyMy non-romantic OTP for this character: I love his interactions with Silver. wwMy unpopular opinion about this character: I don’t ship him romantically with Silver or Crystal. :/ One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:PROPER. CHARACTER. DEVELOPMENT. *SOBS*My OTP: NoneMy OT3:With Silver and Crystal as a family! I love the fact that Silver camps out at his house to watch Proteam Omega. 

#thank you for asking #pokespe #tagging because this turned into character analyses #of sorts #specialshipping

[texanredrose]

I Need A Hero

Yang Xiao Long lived for the thrill.

When she was younger, she’d be the one climbing trees and jumping from cliffs by her house into the water below. The rush invigorated her, made her feel alive and fierce, and while their mother had always gently chided her about being so reckless, she also praised the little blonde with pigtails for being so fearless.

When she got into her teens, she took just as many risks, because that was right about when her powers became noticeable. She rode her motorcycle a bit too fast and she ran with the bad crowd, the sort their mother would’ve warned her against were she still alive. But for every broken bone, for every punch across her jaw or kick to her gut, she got stronger, until she could start an inferno with the snap of her fingers. Keeping the liquid fire running through her in check came second nature but those moments when she could let loose were far and few between, and she usually used a bonfire or something similar to cover just how she expressed her passion for life. It wasn’t exactly the honest way to go about it but it was the safest.

Luckily, her younger sister didn’t seem to posses the same penchant for the dangerous as she did, her latent super speed only rivaled by her sheer brilliance in the engineering field, but she certainly had a noble streak to rival Yang’s recklessness. So, when Ruby decided to don a ridiculous mask and cowl, to fight the bad guys in the most direct method possible, it seemed only natural for her big sister to step in and help out. 

They operated independently but with close communication; she always knew where her sister was and vice versa. If they caught wind of something big going down, they’d time their arrivals so it appeared like they’d stumbled upon the scene independently, even joked with each other like strangers would, or coworkers who didn’t actually spend much time working side-by-side. The news didn’t seem onto them and the local police force, although publicly critical of their methods, didn’t seem too interested in unmasked the super powered, masked vigilantes in their city. As a result, Vale had become relatively safe from petty crime but something of a hotbed for those with something to prove.

On the upside, the majority of their frequent fliers were the theatrical sort, more than willing to take hostages and wait a few hours for their ‘arch nemesis’ to show up rather than straight up endangering innocent people. But there were a few who had enough screws loose that she found herself sincerely concerned about if she could live with the consequences of being late, even once, when they were involved.

That’s what had her running along a rooftop at o’ dark thirty on a Monday, gathering up the fire in her veins and exploding upwards as she jumped to the next one, the rain sliding across her visor hardly impeding her sight in the slightest. On the other side of town, they’d learned about a weapons shipment to supply one of their longest running acquaintances- a man who’d once been a hero and had turned towards ruthless methods of exacting his twisted version of ‘justice’. 

“Flying high, Eagle?”

“Heading to roost, Owl,” she said, trying to keep the grim excitement from her voice. They’d devised the codenames- entirely unrelated to their public images or secret identities- as a method of ensuring that, were their channel ever compromised, nothing important would be relayed. At least, nothing anyone but themselves could understand, anyway. “Got the birdseed?”

“Three bags. What about you? Any nickels?”

“Oh, I got plenty.” They’d timed it out so Ruby would arrive first this time, scope out the area before she ever got close. Honestly, she was running a bit ahead of schedule, already crossing over the city’s main thoroughfare when she should be just hitting the rooftops of the south side. “Thing’s’ll be shiny tonight.”

“No doubt.” Ruby grunted, though a smile could be heard in her voice. “I’ll let you know when I get back to the cage.”

“Sounds good.” She reached up and deactivated her mic, finding the button built into the underside of her helmet with practiced ease. Honestly, she felt more like a turtle with all the armor, but the gauntlets, chest piece, and greaves had saved her a few times, not to mention the knee pads. After the first time someone had broken one of her kneecaps with a metal bat, she’d learned that ‘pain is gain’ just wasn’t a feasible plan all the time. The whole ensemble- from the track suit she wore beneath the armor to the individual pieces- was a deep, dark blue, very far removed from her typical color choices, and she’d recently incorporated a lighter blue trim around the edges after the last time she’d been quite nearly blown up. The whole get up gave her normally muscular and curvaceous silhouette a blocky, stout build, and she’d stood in front of cutouts of her alter ego without anyone thinking twice about it.

In other words: the perfect disguise.

As she landed on the next rooftop, Yang skidded to a halt. Out of habit, she’d glanced over to the rooftop of the city’s police department, the main building downtown that housed the highest brass. Although they strictly maintained their public discouragement of the vigilantes’ activities, every now and again Ruby or Yang would find someone standing on the roof with an old fashioned lamp burning overhead. Archaic, but it got the point across; whatever was going on, the masked duo were the police’s best shot at cracking the case, and they weren’t above admitting they needed that glimmer of hope.

She looked across to the next building, biting her lip beneath her disguise. Ahead of schedule and nearly to her destination but with some time to spare, she could at least swing by and see what the cops wanted. Knowing her luck, it would be something equally big, and the sisters would have to wrap up their night as quickly as possible to start recon on the next big takedown. She just hoped it wasn’t another cartel; they always carried way too many guns for her to be entirely comfortable relying on her sister’s speed and sleek, bulletproof armor to keep her safe.

Yang squatted low and jumped high into the air, venting heat from her body through the contours her sister had designed to act as thrusters of sorts, allowing her to cushion her fall as super heated air worked against gravity. Ruby liked to joke that she was full of more hot air than most blimps, so she should be able to float by all accounts, but that was usually countered with a friendly reminder that, no matter how fast she was, the younger sister could never beat her at Mario Kart. For some reason, that remained a sore spot, even into their twenties.

As she lightly landed on the top of the roof access, lilac eyes fell on the particular officer waiting for her and she had to bite back a curse.

A crisp pair of slacks and a dark blue overcoat with a white shirt beneath, hair like moonlight pulled into a tight bun while her bangs fell over her right eye, arms crossed and blue eyes staring off into the distance- Detective Winter Schnee was a woman not to be trifled with, in any sense of the word. She typically worked homicides but had been tasked with ‘tracking down’ the vigilantes when murders suddenly decreased in the city, the average person absolutely terrified of finding themselves on the receiving end of the sisters’ particular brands of justice. A straight laced police officer with a short but stellar record and a former stint in the military, had the woman been provided the ample tools and resources, she probably would’ve had both sisters in cuffs by the end of the first month. She could be intense, a cool persona and a colder voice making it seem like she embodied her namesake but she had a... playful side, too, though it came out very rarely. Her younger sister, Weiss, had joined the police force as well, but an incident shortly before Ruby and Yang arrived in the city had dashed any hopes of her following Winter’s footsteps. Their paths had crossed initially at the physical therapy center Ruby worked at, the better job part of the reason they moved to Vale in the first place. The sisters had stuck together after their father died much like Winter and Weiss had after being disowned by theirs.

Well, technically, Weiss got disowned, and Winter disinherited herself immediately after; the Schnees had a long standing history in Atlas as public servants and though the current generation had chosen to live in a different kingdom, the transgression of being injured on the job seemed too high to be forgiven.

Yang had heard the whole story a time or two over the months. At first, they were just casual acquaintances, exchanging small talk in the lobby while she waited for Ruby to go on her lunch break and Winter waited for her sister’s physical therapy to end. The first time she met the woman outside the clinic, it was as a masked vigilante delivering a drug dealer to the proper authorities. Since then, it seemed the more she saw the woman when they both were ‘off the clock’, the more she’d see her on it as well. From a purely pragmatic standpoint, that probably constituted a dire concern she’d need to worry about if she wanted to keep her identity hidden...

But Yang lived for the thrill and she rather liked the woman’s company.

“So what’s the story, Flat Foot?” She hopped down, landing a few feet away from Winter and turning around slowly, as if bored. Some part of her hated putting on the facade of someone disenchanted and occasionally hostile towards police officers, but it was all part of separating the two identities. “Who’s ass do I have to save now?”

“You act as if you don’t enjoy it,” the detective replied, brows furrowing briefly before the woman sighed. “Must you insist on doing this little dance every time?”

“Only when Vale’s finest can’t live up to the title.” Yang frowned, noting how it seemed like nothing she said elicited a reaction. Usually she’d get a tightening of Winter’s lips, a twitch in her brow, sometimes even a small huff that seemed to be picked up from her sister as opposed to the other way around. She’d gotten used to hostility and annoyance hidden behind practiced poise, not this... almost stone like countenance. “Seriously, what’s going on? You’re usually more chatty than this.”

The detective watched her, unable to see past the visor. She couldn’t see how Yang’s brows knit together in confusion, how her lips tugged into a small frown- it was starting to feel more and more alien to stand there, looking up into cool blue eyes, and pretend she disliked the woman and the organization she represented. If her previous recklessness hadn’t saddled her with a rap sheet, she would’ve taken the obvious route and joined the police force herself- and encouraged Ruby to do the same- rather than run around at all hours of the day and night, beating up drug dealers and megalomaniacs in the streets of Vale. She’d done it to herself and now she had to live with it, even the bad parts, so she tried to think up something else to get Winter to spill whatever information she had.

Ultimately, Yang was beaten to the punch, for once.

“You’re going after Fang, aren’t you?” The detective pushed off the wall she leaned against, making her superior height all the more noticeable, but she didn’t try to strike an intimidating pose. She’d seen Winter grill potential suspects with exacting questions and a sharp gaze before yet now she seemed more... reserved, almost muted. “We’ve heard talk about an especially large shipment coming in soon, but none of our informants are willing to give us more than that.”

“I’ve heard the rumors, too.” Rolling her shoulders, the vigilante feigned disinterest as best she could, thankful the disguise helped conceal her true feelings on the matter. “I’m sure it’s nothing. And if it is, we’ll take care of it.”

Winter pushed out a breath through her nose, agitation showing through. “Because nothing can bring down the mighty Steam and Aurora, is that it?”

As far as monikers went, they weren’t ideal by any stretch of the imagination, but they’d agreed anything that sounded appropriately cool would probably come back to them somehow. Especially given her thorough appreciation of puns.

“I can take care of myself.” Crossing her arms over her chest, Yang did her best to sound unconcerned as she continued. “Everyone else should just stand clear. I’ll take care of Fang, if he shows up.” They’d done this song and dance a few times and, though it never got any easier. Typically, she wouldn’t be concerned about whether or not her words came off as exceptionally rude- she did what she wanted and she had fun; people could keep their opinions to themselves- but she’d actually liked the straight laced detective. Not just for being a break from the rest of the force, who would gladly turn over their entire jobs to the vigilantes if possible, but for being a very staunch and sincere friend ever since they met. “Do you have anything for me or not? I got your job to be doing, ya know.”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” she said, reaching into her coat and pulling out a single flower- freshly picked, by the looks of it, from the park down on Fifth.

Yang’s eyes widened. A yellow snapdragon. Her favorite.

They were walking through the park earlier that day, having run into each other and opting to grab lunch together. She’d looked over and seen some growing, excitedly confessed they were plentiful and wild back home but she hadn’t seen them in the city yet, and Winter had smiled in the enigmatic way that she did. Something had lurked in her eyes then, something that went unvoiced no matter how much she gently prodded, and now she had the answer as to why.

“If you would truly rather handle this yourself, I suppose there’s nothing we can do to stop you.” The detective brushed her fingers along the petals. “But... I would like to request you be careful. As much as you can, at any rate.”

Taking a look around, letting the helmet do the work her eyes couldn’t to ensure the coast was clear, Yang took a step forward and reached up to deactivate the face plate portion of the helmet, lowering her voice in the process. “How long have you known?”

“Truthfully? I didn’t, until just now.” The woman let out a quick sigh of relief before her expression turned dark. “Now, tell me the truth. Is Fang’s shipment tonight?”

The vigilante debated for all of a second before relenting. “Yeah, it’s tonight. The abandoned docks on the northwest side of the city.” She reached out, putting a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “But you can’t bring out the big guns this time, Winter. Whatever he’s got, it’s bad, and we can’t tip him off.”

“What if we stood by a few blocks away?” Winter gestured to the building below them. “No helicopters, as many plain, street vehicles as we have-”

“It’s too risky.” Yang shook her head. “It would put too many people in danger.”

“So you and Aurora are going to pick this fight on your own?” The detective blinked, then tilted her head, and it was obvious she’d put the pieces together. “This is reckless.”

“This is me,” she replied, glancing away briefly. “I know you don’t approve but this is how I’m going to deal with it. All goes well and I’ll be delivering Fang to you in the morning.”

“Hey, Eagle, landed a while ago.” Ruby’s voice sounded tense in her ear. “Birdbath’s a little full.”

That meant that things were already not going well.

“And if it doesn’t?” Winter’s voice had a harsh edge, the same one she used when reprimanding a fellow officer or putting a stop to her sister’s self deprecating comments about herself. “You know very well that Fang’s dangerous; he will not hesitate to kill either of you.”

“We know.” She winced at the slip- though, seeing as no surprise registered in the woman’s face, she supposed it wasn’t nearly as telling- and continued slowly, surreptitiously flicking off her microphone for the moment. “I know the risks. But there’s no other option. Fang must be stopped and there’s a very short list of people who can do it.”

“Eagle?”

With a cringe, Yang reached up and flicked her mic back on. “I’m here, Owl, just... I’ll be there soon.”

The detective took a deep breath and released it slowly, looking down at the snapdragon in her hand. Tucking it carefully back into her coat, she pulled at her lapel and straightened it out, composing herself. “There’s no point in trying to talk you out of this.”

She looked up, noting the helpless pain in blue eyes while silencing her mic. “I’ll be fine. Promise.”

“You’d better be.” Winter paused, then darted forward, kissing the end of her nose. “For good luck.”

Yang couldn’t help the dumb little smile that came to her lips. “Uh... thanks...” She reached up, preparing to turn on her mic and slide the face portion back into place but hesitated. “Hey... you free some time this week?”

“I... should be off on Thursday.” The corners of her mouth lifted and a touch of coyness infected her tone. “Why do you ask?”

“Well... maybe we can grab dinner together?” With the press of a button slipping her mask back into place, the vigilante spread her hands. “I mean, dating a superhero, not a bad gig, right?”

Winter chuckled. “Very well. Dinner, Thursday. Now, try not to get yourself killed.”

“Ten-four, Flat Foot.” Hitting the mic, she turned and started running, jumping from the top of the precinct building to the next and venting a little heat to boost her. “Sorry, Owl, got a bit distracted.”

“Well, tonight’s really not the night for that.” Ruby sounded slightly frustrated. “There’s... a lot more pigeons here than we thought.”

Yang winced, landing on the next building a bit harder than she intended and immediately translating that energy into her next jump. “Well, then, guess we’re going to have to be hawks.”

“I’m... not sure if pigeons are hunted by hawks.”

“Tonight they are!” Yang suddenly felt lighter than she had in a long, long while. Having someone in on the secret was one thing but having a date on top of it was another. “I’ve got about five nickles and some change.”

“Got it!” Her good mood seemed to bolster her sister’s confidence.

It was going to be a good night.

Winter watches as Steam disappeared into the night, following the woman’s silhouette as long as she could before reading into her pocket and pulling out her scroll, dialing a number by heart.

“Did you get the location?” He sister didn’t bother with a greeting, worry pulling her voice tight.

“Yes. Northwest, abandoned docks.” Making her decision, she turned towards the roof access door. “And I’m coming with you.”

“What? Winter, no, that’s ridiculous.”

“It wasn’t an option.”

“You don’t even have any powers!” 

“Let me worry about that,” she said, pulling the door open and descending the stairs two or three at a time. “Meet me by the coffee shop in twenty minutes.”

A moment of silence, and then: “Fine.”

As she replaced the device, she reached into her coat and felt the petals of the snapdragon. The detective once again felt thrilled her hunch proved true, partially to obtain the information her sister and girlfriend wanted.

But, if she was honest with herself, it was mainly because she really didn’t want to choose between the bright blonde whom she’d become rather fond of and the brash barbarian she’s become fixated with recently. Knowing they were the same person meant she could enjoy both sides of the woman’s personality, provided Fang didn’t manage to kill her tonight.

“Detective Schnee?” The officer in charge of the department’s armory raised a brow as she burst through the door without sparing a glance around the room, zeroing in on them instantly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m calling in a favor,” she said, gesturing towards the cages with heavy padlocks and thick metal surrounding them. “What do you have my size?”

They laughed, pulling a large keyring from their hip and flicking through the keys. “You know, I always had a feeling someone would step across that line someday.” They shook their head. “I’d feel sorry for whoever pissed you off, but I’m sure it’s a long time coming.”

“It may very well be,” she said, more to herself as she hoped back up would arrive before Yang- and Ruby, who probably arrived first- were in too bad of shape.

“You’ll have to tell me all about the thrilling conclusion.” The officer paused. “But, uh, not too many details. I’d rather not testify against you.”

#Elderburn #Elderburn Week #Day 2: Superhero AU #TRR writes