If there’s one thing Hakyeon wanted to make very very clear, it was that he was most definitely, decidedly real.

Not that Taekwoon believed him.

Sure, Hakyeon didn’t do much but whisper in his ear. Make me buffer. Send Sanghyuk to my lair. Make him forget his armor. Let me kidnap his girlfriend. Come on, let me win just once.  I’m a mage, I sure as hell should be able to beat out that scrawny little prince you concocted! Why can’t I be buffer? And sometimes Taekwoon listened to him. Sometimes. It was rarer than Hakyeon liked. Usually the quiet writer would just shake his head, hit his ear a few times, mutter about voices and then completely ignore him. He’d write the next chapter and by yet another of dumb luck and clear favoritism from the author Sanghyuk would escape whatever trap Hakyeon concocted, or avoid whatever spell Hakyeon had set, or waltz past whatever foul beast Hakyeon summoned as he acted out his life as the perfect protagonist.

It totally pissed Hakyeon off. Sanghyuk, the idiot, didn’t even know he was a book character. He thought everything that happened happened because he was some chosen one or something. Hakyeon almost didn’t have the heart to tell him that he’d be as dead as his poor deceased dethroned daddy if it hadn’t been for Taekwoon—that blasted author—looking out for him. Of course, Hakyeon had figured out rather early on that someone was pushing the proverbial pen of fate around behind the scenes, and as a rather skeptic individual who didn’t much believe in gods he’d set to his scrying pool for answers. He didn’t remember what he expected when he first started looking, but it sure as hell wasn’t the skinny slant-eyed man he saw bent over a strange glowing box with skin paler than his skeleton butler and hair darker than the pit of despair—and tar—he’d tried to drown Sanghyuk in a few days prior. That had been a shock. It had taken him a few days to get over that one, and over half of the contents of his wine cellar, including that really fantastic elfin wine he’d stolen from the druid emissary back before he had really established himself as a villain. He’d been meaning to save it for when he finally conquered Sanghyuk’s kingdom and enslaved its people, but hey, desperate times.  

Anyway, all that to say that Hakyeon was done with all this author crap. He didn’t want some scrawny dude who spent more time with a glowing box than human company running his show anymore. Especially not when said scrawny dude thwarted his plans at every step. So Hakyeon concocted a plan, a brilliant masterful plan that would definitely result in his success. All he had to do was convince Taekwoon of what he already knew: that Hakyeon was sure as hell real, and goddamnit, he wanted his fairytale to end with a villain in charge for once instead of some pansy- prince.

It had taken some work, but with the help of Wonshik, a good warlock friend of his who liked to hang out in the grey zone of ethics and draw pictures of Rovix, the metal man he created, on the faces of sleeping travelers, Hakyeon had finally created a projection spell that he believed could send him to the Taekwoon’s world. Granted, he wasn’t sure how solid he’d be once he got there, but he figured even his image would be enough so long as he could talk. Then maybe he and Taekwoon could have a nice civil chat about how Hakyeon would like to dominate the kingdom now, please and thank you. Okay, so maybe it wouldn’t be that civil, but Hakyeon was a villain. It’s not like he’d practiced having tea and scones with a side of polite conversation when he was a child. Unless tea was blood and scones were human heads and polite conversation was the evil chortle thing his grandpa had spent way too much of their time on. But still, Hakyeon figured he’d at least try to be nice. He’d even practiced his smile in the mirror a few times, ever since a wandering hermit had told him a smile was the best social lubricant. Or maybe he’d been talking about alcohol. Hakyeon couldn’t remember. But yeah, back to the projection spell.

He needed a few more things—seven grade AA newt eyes, 20 milliliters of orphan tears, the full intact nervous system of a —you know, the basics, nothing too extravagant. Then he’d be ready. He wasn’t sure exactly how much magic it would take, though Wonshik said chances were good the spell would completely drain him. If anything, Hakyeon might not be able to hold onto the spell for as long as he hoped. But that would be okay if he got a chance to say his piece to Taekwoon. And his piece wasn’t very long. In fact, it was short and went a little something like, “stop helping Sanghyuk because he and let me win for once instead please k thx bye.”

Two days later Hakyeon and Wonshik finished setting everything up and Hakyeon stepped into the summoning circle, vial of Orphan Tears™ secure in his left hand. Don’t forget, Wonshik reminded him, you need to sprinkle the tears on him for him to see you. Otherwise you’ll just be one of those poltergeist things they talk about sometimes. Hakyeon promised he wouldn’t forget. He had enough on his plate with the whole the villain never wins thing. He sure as hell didn’t want to waste his one chance of swaying Taekwoon to his side to be misinterpreted as a ghostly passing. He raised up the Orphan Tears™ in a salute. Wonshik waved back, two newt eyes in between his fingers. Hakyeon shivered, not liking the way the lizard eyes stared at him from across the room as it slowly phased out, blurring into a galaxy of colors before reforming into a painfully sparse, hermit-type hallway with the sound of tap tap tapping coming from the door at the end. Hakyeon grinned. He’d made it to Taekwoon’s house.

He floated down the hall, taking in the pictures on the walls. There were lots of plants and things, a few pictures of a small angry looking puffball that might be called a dog in some circles, and then one or two pictures of Taekwoon’s face. Hakyeon concluded that Taekwoon didn’t have any friends. When he hit the door he tried to open the normal way first, but realized that he couldn’t actually touch the door so instead he phased through it, momentarily wishing he could do the same in his own lair. Those fancy oak doors were heavy man, and poor Skellington tried his best but it turns out that skeleton butlers don’t have much muscle. Hakyeon generally had to do all the heavy lifting.

He snuck up behind Taekwoon—not that he needed to, seeing as how the guy couldn’t see him yet and it wasn’t like he could knock anything over—and frowned, seeing words appear on the glowing box in front of him: something about Sanghyuk sharing a tender kiss with his pretty princess girlfriend. Hakyeon held back a gag. Perks of being evil: there were no tender kisses, just y make-out sessions and even ier nights. And sometimes days. But only when his partner was really attractive. Hakyeon uncapped his vial of Orphan Tears™ and dribbled a few onto Taekwoon’s hair before popping out in front of him with an overly cheery, Hi! I’m Hakyeon, your villain. I have something to say to you!

Taekwoon took it pretty well, if the running and screaming meant anything. At least Hakyeon hoped he took it well as he ran after him yelling, Look! I don’t mean to frighten you, but if I do it’s your fault because you made me frightening you jackass! But really, do me a favor and stop letting Sanghyuk escape, will you? It’s so disheartening to spend a lot of money to set up an elaborate trap only to have that blasted prince escape every single ing time! Don’t you realize that I don’t get a refund, even if I am the main villain? Where am I supposed to get all that money, huh? Come on man! Help me out h—

The house and Taekwoon faded out again, the galaxy returning and swirling into stone walls and cavernous ceilings. Wonshik stood outside the summoning circle laughing. You look so dumb dude. Hakyeon frowned, staring down at the line of salt at his feet that had kept him running in place here in his lair instead of running into a wall while he chased Taekwoon. I didn’t get to finish my speech. Hakyeon pouted, using his finger to create a break in the line of salt, releasing all the magic out of the circle and back into the room. He huffed at Wonshik on his way by, off to check the scrying pool to see what Taekwoon was doing now.

Of course, Taekwoon was using a glowing box again, but this one was much smaller and he held it up to his ear and talked into it instead of making tapping sounds on it with his hands. His mouth was moving but Hakyeon hadn’t upgraded his scrying pool to premium yet so the reception was a bit spotty—the freaking Oracle Company would resort to any means, no matter how dirty, to wring more money out of their customers—and he couldn’t make out what Taekwoon was saying. It looked promising though, whatever it was. It gave Hakyeon hope for his future domination of the kingdom. He needed new slaves, preferable ones with bones and muscles, so he wouldn’t have to open his own doors anymore.

He retreated to the inner sanctum of his lair, a rather over-decorated affair of bones and flames that seemed to make visitors uncomfortable. It was the only room Hakyeon had ever let Skellington decorate; he didn’t want to terrify all his guests. But he didn’t have the heart to change it even if it was a bit distasteful. Skellington poured his heart into that room, literally. Luckily there wasn’t a whole lot to pour, so all it did was leave an awkward dark spot in the of the room by Hakyeon’s bone throne, which by the way never make a throne out of bones. So uncomfortable! There in his inner sanctum Hakyeon devised another plan, one slightly more devious that the last that required the help of a lovely little princess.

Hakyeon was more than pleased the next morning when Sanghyuk showed up at his doorstep right on schedule, frothing at the mouth and demanding Hakyeon free his girlfriend. He was even more pleased when Sanghyuk grabbed him by the collar and threw him across the dimly lit, generally spooky room. Ah, aesthetics. But he best part was when Sanghyuk fell into the pit Hakyeon had magicked into the lair halfway through storming angrily towards where he’d thrown him.  It was one of the nice things about the whole Sanghyuk being a hero affair—the kid was a predictable bastard, never mind that he was born in wedlock. And of course, the yelling came next, lots of let me out!! and I swear you’ll regret this once I escape!! Not that it felt particularly threatening to Hakyeon in any way. The little prince was at least a few hundred feet down and there wasn’t exactly a griffin chilling down there to help him conveniently escape.  

But then the doorbell rang and Hakyeon just about incinerated something. Of all the times for someone to come knocking, it was a decidedly bad one currently. If it was one of those dead beat peddlers that wandered door to door selling religious texts and knockoff versions of unicorn blood Hakyeon there would be more than just a dead prince on his to do list today. Fortunately for Hakyeon it wasn’t a salesman when he opened the door, shooting a dirty look at Skellington—totally useless as a butler—while he did. Unfortunately it was a representative of the druid embassy, a thin transparent looking man who called himself Hongbin and wanted to complain about a bottle of elfin wine that they’d just realized was missing. Have you seen it? It’s very fancy, very nice. Very good wine. If you see it you’ll know it. It’s very good stuff. The elves made it very nice. We were pleased to have it. It’s very special. Very good. Have you seen our very special wine? Hakyeon resisted the urge to slam the door in his rippling glimmering face and instead summoned the nicest smile he could—must’ve worked to because Hongbin physically recoiled—and replied that no, no he had not seen that bottle of wine in the past several years. Hakyeon of course neglected to mention that that was because he had drunk said bottle of wine several years ago. But hey, minor details.

After a few more minutes of simpering druid and shameless half-truths Hakyeon finally managed to shoo him away, closing the door firmly behind him before swiveling back to his pit and the precious prince Sanghyuk.  But there was a problem. Precious prince Sanghyuk wasn’t there. Instead there was a shattered griffon egg everywhere. Where the did a griffon egg even come from? Oh wait—

Hakyeon ran over to his scrying pool—tripping over his I’m-finally-going-to-murder-Sanghyuk robes on the way down—and lo and behold, there was Taekwoon bent over his glowing box again. But this time there was something weird on his table. An orange bottle with a weird label, risperidone, with something else beneath it. Anti-hallucinogen something? Hakyeon scratched his head. What in the hell?

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Woot woot. Here it is ya'll!

Jay