#The Forbidden Tomes Series

[annwrites]

one in the same. part two.

— pairing: otto hightower x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: otto comes to the library for a bit of solitude, but finds you there instead.

— tw: none

— word count: 2,185

You jump when you hear the heavy doors to the library firmly shut. Solid footsteps then echo across the marble floor.

You remain quiet, silently stepping, then peering around the corner of a large bookshelf, greeted by the sight of Ser Otto lying his palms flat atop a cherry-wood table, sighing, closing his eyes, shoulders slumping forward slightly, as if out of exhaustion.

You've been thankful more times than you can count for your lack of involvement in politics. Rhaenyra can have the throne—she is most welcome to it. You, meanwhile, are more than content in your books and embroidery, long walks and peacefully wading through the clear waters of the Blackwater beneath the Keep, accompanied by none other than yourself.

Let the men have at it, you say.

You clutch your book close to your chest, heart pounding, as you realize this is the first time you've ever spied on the older man.

He has seemed rather busy—perhaps even distracted, as of late—since Rhaenyra's appointment as your father's heir, and Daemon's fleeing to Dragonstone.

You had not been sad to see your half-uncle go, however. He had always made you uncomfortable with his lingering gazes and double-edged jests that you'd always pretended to be too ignorant to understand, so you would not have to acknowledge the things he was really saying.

Otto lifts his head then, and you quickly step back around the corner, carefully sliding your book back into place upon the shelf before you, listening as he comes closer.

You don't know why you feel the need to hide, but there's something exciting about it—you being aware of him, but not him of you.

You wonder how many times it has been the other way around. What all it is, exactly, that he knows about you.

You silently slide another book from the shelf, watching him through the empty space as he peruses the expansive selection of literature before him. He turns, so you quickly duck as he finds the tome he had come for, heading back to the table. He then retrieves a map, unrolling it, settling weights upon each corner, and your lip twitches.

What you're doing feels so...forbidden. Gazing upon him like this. All alone.

Just the two of you.

Your eyes trail along his lean frame—his black cloak, lined with fur, his green tunic, the sword at his side. You briefly wonder how adept he is at using it. Or, at the very least, once was. You try to imagine it: him with a weapon in-hand, cutting down a foe, but struggle to conjure such an image within your mind's eye.

You bite back a smirk when you consider trying to scare him. It would be all-too easy. You don't think he would take too kindly to that, however. You still have yet to learn where it is, exactly, that the two of you stand.

After that day in the Sept, when he had offered you consolation, you'd thought of him...rather often. And with a newfound warmth, which unsettled you. For years you had loathed him, had felt nothing but such sentiments toward him, and had never believed you would feel anything other than. Until you did.

You'd hardly spoken since, however. You'd passed one another in the halls—nothing remarkable to speak of ever occurring between the two of you, though. You did not so much as acknowledge the other when you did. But once or twice, his hand had brushed against yours, and when you glanced over your shoulder, watching him go, his steps never faltered; his own head did not turn.

But, once, his hand had flexed down at his side—long fingers stretching—before forming a fist as he disappeared round a corner, leaving you staring after him.

You roll your eyes, quickly tiring of watching him do nothing but read and plot, and grab a random book and a small step-stool before settling the object before a window, climbing up, seating yourself, and leaning back against the colored pane.

Otto's head jerks up and in your direction, only now realizing that he is not alone.

"My Lady," his low voice drawls.

You glance up to him from your novel with a raised brow. "Ser Otto," you reply before looking back down.

You feel his eyes remaining upon you, but pretend to ignore it as you flip the page, not even aware of whatever it is that you're reading, unable to concentrate on much else but the sensation of him watching you.

He slowly walks toward you, hands behind his back. "You did not make me aware of your presence."

"Should I have?" You ask, turning another page. "I was here first, after all."

He shakes his head. "Were you?"

You look up to him. And then you catch onto his sarcasm and your lip twitches. "I suppose you have been here for a very long time."

He glances down to the book in your lap, not taking the bait. "May I?"

You shrug, offering it to him and he takes it, holding it between his hands. "Battles and Sieges of the Century of Blood. An accounting of the fall of Sarnor, if I recall. A particular interest of yours?" He looks to you from under his lashes with a raised brow.

You flush. You should've bothered looking at the spine before just grabbing the first book you saw.

He hands it back to you. "I see the septa's teachings have become more encompassing."

You close the book, looking toward his makeshift-desk for the afternoon. "And what are you working on, I wonder?"

You hop down, walking over, leaving your book behind.

He folds his arms behind his back, standing straight, watching as you analyze the map spread across the tabletop.

"Do you know how to read a map, My Lady?"

You roll your eyes at his doubtful tone. "Yes," you lie.

He hums. "Show me where we are currently located, then."

Great.

You stare dumbly at the colored drawings of green and blue and brown and white, refusing to admit that you have no idea where to even guess at being.

"Do you need a hint?" He asks, stepping closer.

You frown. "So, I'm not versed in geography. I wouldn't need to be anyway, considering I've never been outside of King's Landing." Or the Red Keep, really.

He points to a place on the left side of the map, toward the bottom of a large splotch of green. "Here."

"Where is Oldtown?" You ask.

You don't see the small smile that graces his lips when he indicates its position next.

You nod, glancing to the heavy, dusty tome to your left. You then turn, looking up at Otto as you lean back against the table. "Maps and plotting. Do I need to be worried?"

He pulls out a chair, seating himself.

It's when he leans back, folding his hands over his abdomen—the sunlight from the window casting shadows across his face—that you realize just how exhausted he looks. It seemed to be his permanent expression now.

"Nothing you need concern yourself with, My Lady. Things will...eventually be well in-hand in time, I'm sure."

You sigh. "You don't have to refer to me by my title each time we converse. Just so you are aware."

He looks up at you. "What would you prefer?"

You clasp your hands before you. "My given name is just as well."

He considers your request for a moment. "Only when we are alone, then."

You nod. "And you?"

"Otto is fine."

You look over your shoulder toward the map. "Will you not tell me, Otto?"

It feels so incredibly strange to not preface his name with 'Ser'.

He chews the inside of his cheek for a moment. "What I speak of to you remains between us."

Who else would you have to tell? "Of course."

He looks to the map. "The continent where we are located, do you see—at the bottom—the broken pieces of land leading east?"

You turn, planting your palms atop the table. "Yes."

He stands then, closely, his side pressed against your own as he gestures to them. "They are known as the Stepstones. There is a triarchy of free cities—Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh," he points to each, "that have invaded the area. Initially, we had thought they'd brought an end to a problem for many. Corsairs and outlaws—a troublesome danger—have impacted trade and travel between us and Essos for many a year now, which they took swift and sudden action against some time ago.

"But they have, slowly, become what they set out to destroy, however: yet another foe toward those who are meant to be their allies. They've imposed taxes and tariffs that have risen to unthinkable levels. I fear war is afoot if an agreement can not be settled upon in due time."

You don't like the sound of that: war.

"Will...will they come here, if fighting does commence?"

He shakes his head. "I doubt it. They would be ignorant to try."

You chew your lip. "What do you plan to do?"

He places his hand against the small of your back. "Let us speak no more of this. I do not wish for you to trouble yourself with political matters. Things will be handled duly, I am sure of it."

You agree easily. "Where is Highgarden?"

He indicates with his index finger a place not terribly far from Oldtown. "Why do you ask, Y/N?"

You shrug. "I've wondered about many places, since I have seen none," you reply quietly.

He faces you. "Where would you go, then, if you had the choice? Anywhere in the Known World." He pauses. "Highgarden?"

You smile, nodding gently. "I think it would be my first destination, yes."

"And why is that?"

You look up at him. He may mock you for your response. If so, you'll take your leave.

"I only know what I have read; seen in paintings. It seems something from a fairytale."

"I dare say it is."

His hand brushes against yours. "Is that all?"

You shrug. "I know women are not allowed, but I find the Citadel to be fascinating. All those books and scrolls..."

You then glance to the small pendant of the Hightower that is pinned to his chest. "Do you think I would like it there?" You ask, looking up to him.

He raises a brow.

You nod toward his pin.

He gives a small smile. "You can see clear across the Sunset Sea the closer you are to the top of the structure. So I dare say, yes, you would."

You walk to a bookshelf, browsing. "Do you miss it?"

"My brother at times, perhaps. I am thankful for my high room here, however. It reminds me of home."

You smile to yourself at that. "Were you frightened when King Jaehaerys summoned you as his new Hand?"

"No. Not in the least. Honored the more fitting sentiment for my reaction to such an appointment."

You reach up, standing on tip-toes for a book on a high shelf, then huff when you do not even come close to reaching it.

Otto rounds the table, then watches with a frown as you jump in a poor attempt at retrieving it, your long curls bouncing.

He presses himself to your back as he grabs it with ease, lowering it to you. "Is it truly so difficult to ask for aid, My—" He pauses. "Y/N."

You turn around, your chest pressed to his as you stare up, into hues of green. "I could say the same to you."

He settles his arms behind his back. "And how might that be?"

"You don't have to carry it alone: everything that weighs upon you. You needn't place all the Realm upon your shoulders—"

"Because you—or I, for that fact—are so adept at...sharing ourselves. Our innermost thoughts. Turmoil."

You blink up at him. "I did—that day in the Sept. I believe you did as well, when we discussed matters of faith, or lack thereof."

He steps away. "Hard truths are not often easy to share. Particularly with those we are still yet...unfamiliar with."

You raise a brow. "I hardly can be expected to believe that I am unfamiliar to you."

He looks down to the map once again, placing figures upon it, then rearranging. "I do not know what it is that you mean to imply."

You snort lightly, which causes him to look at you.

"You have never had me spied upon, then? I remember some years ago, when I bloomed into...womanhood, a sudden change in my servants. Each and every one. It has only been mere speculation on my part, but I always suspected you had a hand in it."

He shrugs. "Mere conjecture."

Gods, he's so frustrating.

He speaks again. "And now you have spied upon me, hiding between rows of books. Mayhaps we are even?"

You smirk, stepping up to the other side of the table, across from him. "Not even close, Ser."

[adorabluesposts]

Hi!!

I loved your Lucifer x death story and I was wondering if you’d write a Lucifer x Reader but they are Alastors daughter who he kept sheltered? Like they are innocent and such but they were hellborn so they can’t leave. I feel like Lucifer would definitely pine over somebody so maybe him trying to get her to realize he likes her while Alastor keeps him away?

Tysm for being my first request<3 love this idea!!

This is realllyyyy long because I had to give in a lot of context before getting to the point. Might turn this into a series just because this is too fricking long 😭

Lucifer X Alastor's daughter.

"You dare to touch my daughter?"

For the longest time, you were locked away.

Locked away by Alastor, a man who raised you with a certain paranoia, keeping a happy mask on as he taught you manners in his Radio Tower, never letting you leave.

Alastor had raised you in seclusion, shielding you from the brutality of Hell’s politics and power struggles. You knew nothing of the outside world, your knowledge confined to the ancient tomes in the tower's private library. You pretty much devoured tales of angels and demons, of forbidden love and cosmic battles. But your favorite stories were those of your father—the radio demon who had once terrorized the living world, because it amazed you; Your father was never like that with you.

Even aunt Rosie would often tell of shenanigans Alastor did, which surprised you at first. You were truly in denial, of how your father could do such things. You got used to it, even coming at peace with knowing you'll probably never be like him.

There wasn't much interaction that you did- only talking to your father and his shadows, Rosie (who was very much your favourite person in the world) and some of the Overlord's, every now and then.

It was mostly you, all alone in the tower. All alone. Lonely. Bored. All alone. Bored. For decades. Eons. You lost count, seriously.

--

"Dad." You munched down your pancake, Alastor looking up from the mirror hung on the wall , even though he was supposed to fix his tie. "We need to talk."

"Could this wait, deer?" He replied, turning back to the mirror. "I'm late to my job."

Ah, yes, his job. The job you never asked about, because every time you wanted to, he'd shoot you a glare.

"No, I can't wait." You said, getting up from your seat and walking over to him, fixing his tie. "Dad, this is important. My birthday's soon.. and I'm positive I'm old enough to go outside. I've read so much about Hell that I know enough about it. I've even made a slideshow if you don't believe me!"

Alastor looked at you with an angrier expression. "My deer, we talked about this-"

"You can't keep me here anymore. You're not keeping me safe, you're ruining me."

Alastor sighed deeply.

"it's not fair, dad."

"it really isn't." He agreed.

Reluctantly, and with a lot of talking, you got him to agree. As long as you stayed by his side for a while, you'd be able to go out. You needed to sign a contract, though (father's orders), to swear that you'd try to stay safe.

"But how will I stay by your side if I can't accompany you to work? What is your job, anyway? Considering you're not working for the radio anymore." You asked, and he stayed silent for a few minutes. It was clear this was a big step, and he wasn't so happy about letting his little dove grow up.

"I work at a hotel." He sighed. "Do your research, darling. I'll tell my coworkers you'll be paying a visit."

"paying a visit? Does that mean I get to go there alone?" You eagerly asked.

"Oh, nonononono, I'm picking you up."

--

"You've got a WHAT?" The energetic voice of the blonde asked, jumping up and down.

"who knew smiles had it in him-" Angel earned a 'be quiet' glare.

"They'll be visiting today.. just don't get weird." Alastor's static buzzed lpudly. "I've been keeping them safe for as long as they lived. Their poor mind doesn't know how this all works."

"so they're a good person?" Vaggie asked, accompanied by Charlie's: "Does that mean we can get them redeemed?"

"Hahaha!" Alastor laughed. "They're a hellborn. And never in my mind mind would I let them leave my side and go to Heaven, even if they weren't."

"Did you know about this?" Husk's clearly too-sober voice asked Nifty, to which the girl just shook her head.

--

You nervously fidgeted with your hands as you awaited your dad's arrival. You were dressed nicely, wanting to make a good impression. What if your dad's friends were mean? Cruel? Evil? What if they didn't like you?

~

"Some of them are a bit odd." Alastor buzzed, his hand on the doorknob of the hotel. "You'll get used to it, deer."

You breathed in and out, calming your nerves as you walked in. "Woah, this place's not so b-"

"Hii, I'm Charlie, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" A girl eagerly ran up to you, shaking your hand with excitement. "I was soo excited to meet you! You need to see the others! I need to make a tour!"

You were pretty confused and feeling many feelings about the first interaction, but thought Charlie would be a fun person to befriend anyway.

"Hi, I'm Vaggie." A girl next to her said, softly taking Charlie's hand from yours, which you silently thanked her for. "I'm Charlie's girlfriend."

You smiled. "Nice to meet you both."

"That's Husk, he owns the bar." Vaggie said with a calm voice, pointing to the creature who grunted at you.

"that's Nifty, she cleans." Vaggie continued, her girlfriend jumping up and down in excitement next to her.

"And that's Angel Dust, our first resident. Sir Pentious was our second resident." Vaggie said, her voice followed by the 'Heya toots' the spider said.

--

"Will you be staying? We'd love to have you. You're so nice I love you already!" Charlie said, after a successful tour. You lost your dad long ago, seeming as if he's gone to do his own business (you pretended to ignore how his shadow replaced yours in the meantime).

"It wouldn't be too bad." You said. "I could get a bit of a break from my dad for once."

"Uhh, speaking of dads." Angel poked his head in the room. "Charlie, your dad's at the door."

Charlie nervously looked at Angel. "Oh, that's great.. what does he want?"

"He said he wanted to revisit without Alastor, since word is he's out of town."

"my dad's out of town? Great!" You silently mumbled.

"Oh, well, I guess it's time you meet my dad, aha." Charlie told you, and you raised an eyebrow. "Who is your dad?"

A short figure walked into the room, eagerly hugging Charlie. He looked so much like her, ignoring the height difference.

"Oh my." You whispered, recognising the face from the books. "Your dad's-"

"Oh, hello." The man smiled at you, looking you up and down, "I'm Lucifer, The-"

"King of Hell, yeah, I know. Oh my Satan."

An awkward pause followed. Silence. More silence. Him looking you up and then down again, making you fix your posture.

"Well, ha! Dad, why don't I show you some new things we added to the living room?" Charlie practically dragged Lucifer out.

--

Your mind instantly lingered on the king for the next few days. It was no surprise why he was the most beautiful man in the world, truly gorge- snap out of it.

"Deer, I've been talking to you!" Alastor set his cup down. "Why aren't you listening?"

"Oh, sorry. I was zoned out." You excused, and his static buzzed louder.

"Strange. You're never like this." He sighed. "I knew I shouldn't have let you out."

His serene smile practically stared at you.

"No, dad, I mean-" You laughed nervously. "I just really miss the hotel, dad. It's really nice."

Excuses. More and more excuses every time you zoned out. Every day. And then he'd take you with him to the hotel, and you'd silently pray that Lucifer would be there. He never was.

--

"A party?" You questioned Charlie. Apparently, the princess wanted to throw a party to spread awareness and information about the Hazbin Hotel- people would come and have fun, Charlie and the crew would explain the deed, and we'd get more visitors.

If you ask me, Charlie's got the IQ.

"And you think I should come?" She nodded as an answer.

Your dad stood next to you, a protective aura lingering over his body. "I think it's a lovely idea, Charlie!" His static buzzed.

You looked at him, eyes widened. "You do?"

"we'll surely attend, Y/N." He smiled. "Would be good for you."

You shuddered. This was so unlike him.

"I don't have what to-"

"I'll help with that!"

"I don't know how to dance, either. And I'm socially awkward-"

"You'll be fine, come on!"

--

You looked at your clothes nervously. You looked good, better than ever, but what would others think? According to Charlie, a bunch of royalty would come (including Lucifer, the Ars Goetia.. Lucifer!!)

And all you could whisper out was fuck, because you were so nervous.

Charlie knocked at your door (technically her door, as you got ready in her room- the party started hours ago. It was the anxiety that made you stay), and practically begged for you to finally go.

You and her linked arms, to which you entered the main lounge area, where you saw people. So many people. And your anxiety rose.

You gave your best smile as she introduced you to a few people, such as Stolas of Ars Goetia (who you thought was very polite and nice, even through his sad smile), and a few of the Sins. Beelzebub was someone else you met, who instantly brought a grin and laugh to your face.

It was all gone when you caught Lucifer's gaze, and you both walked towards eachother. It was the second interaction you two would have- a chance to make a better impression.

"Oh, wow, you look dashing tonight." He said as he bowed to you.

That's right, he bowed. You internally screamed.

"You look quite wonderful, too." You said, and he rose up with a smile. He took your hand, your fingers brushing softly with eachother as he kissed it.

The music went silent, overshadowed by loud static. Everyone looked around confused as the room glowed red, and your father appeared behind Lucifer.

"You dare touch my daughter?" He growled. You could feel his anger and protectiveness in your gut. You sent him a reassuring smile and glance, to which he stopped towering over Lucifer, the music blasting again.

Everything back to normal.

Lucifer and Alastor exchanged a glare of pure hatred.

Shit, was Lucifer messing with you just to fuck with your dad? It was working, then. Alastor was beyond furious.

You looked into Lucifer's eyes and couldn't help but smile. It was like a spell. You were frightened, that you'd fall in love now, even though he was quite literally using you to get under your father's skin..

To be continued..

Okay that's it folks. This took a lot to upload but I've started the next part and ahhh I love itt. This is a bit rushed but I hope you like it so far :)).

[scribefindegil]

[Image ID: A page from the Reigen manga. Panel 1: Reigen stands in a forest looking exhausted. He says, “At least I bought bug spray this time . . .” Panel 2: He sprays himself down. Panel 3: A closeup of his face. He’s dripping with sweat and his eyes are sunken. He says, “Preparations complete.” Panel 4: Reigen loosens his tie as he staggers towards the viewer. His face is sweaty and he has a haggard expression. He says, “All right then . . .” End ID.]

Okay listen it’s been a month since i read this and i CANNOT stop thinking about “At least I bought bug spray this time. . .” It’s just. It’s so Reigen.

This man is dying. He is being eaten alive by a curse that will kill him in less than 3 hours--probably closer to 2 by this point because this place is pretty far outside of Seasoning City. Since Serizawa couldn’t destroy the curse, he knows that Mob is the only person who could get rid of it--and he doesn’t think that he’ll get there in time, if he comes at all. Reigen’s last-ditch plan is to try to trudge into the most haunted forbidden evil woods he knows about in the hope that he can make the curse that’s killing him fight a different, worse curse, and if that doesn’t work at least he’ll die in a place far away from other people and the curse will be prevented from victimizing anyone else.

And what does he say when he arrives at the Evil Death Woods? “At least I brought bug spray.”

One of the things that makes Reigen’s character work is that he is Just Some Guy. A deeply bewildering, paradoxical guy who lies for a living, but still just a guy. Different characters in MP100 are trying to exist in slightly different genres, and for all his absurdity Reigen is the character who is the most grounded in the real world. He worries about his fire insurance during a psychic terrorist attack. He’s the one who goes “Hey, this is illegal?” and “Kids should not be dealing with this” and “You’re supposed to be adults, what is your PROBLEM?” when he’s introduced to the shonen-anime-villain Scars.

And he’s the sort of person who thinks, yeah, dying of a horrible curse in the woods would be bad, but you know what would be worse? That and bug bites. And he’s not . . . wrong, but it’s not something that anyone else in the series is going to think of. It’s such a normal worry in such an abnormal situation. It’s so grounded.

And it’s also . . . weirdly hopeful? I feel like a lot of people talk about this part of the manga like Reigen’s given up and is just marching to his death, but he really isn’t. Yes, he was willing to take on the curse to save Tome, and he’s well aware that he might die, but he’s still trying to get out of it with everything he’s got. He doesn’t have powers, but he’s really clever! He goes into a place with a time distortion effect in the hope that it will buy him more time! He manipulates the curse into turning around so that it gets attacked by the Mimic spirit but he doesn’t! If it had been a more even match between them like he’d hoped, he might have been able to get out of the woods even without Mob coming to save him.

He’s aware of the danger and how much the odds are stacked against him, but he hasn’t given up! And the bug spray feels indicative of this. He thinks he might succeed in getting rid of the curse. He thinks he might need to get out of the woods on his own. And if that happens, he’s going to be so happy about not getting covered in bug bites this time.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Planescape: The Inclementus Convolution

It is simple as hells go, there is the snow, the walls, and the shape of things that will haunt you for the rest of your days

It appears first as a troubling dream, endless anxious wanderings through a frigid and featureless maze. While most shrug off these visions others sink into a deep and restless malady, possessed by recurring feelings of being cold and lost. For some the dreams deepen, overtaking their waking life until they sink into an unwakung torpor, others are compelled to walk: seeking out winding alleys or wintry landscapes in the hope of finding a way OUT of the maze, only to find themselves transported to it bodily.

Occult scholars of dream and dimension have named this phenomenon the Inclementus Convolution, and conjectures on its purpose and original architects feature in many a forbidden tome. What these dabblers have failed to understand is that the convolution is not a thing of artifice but part of a great unknowable entity, which uses the maze to filter-feed from the multiverse the way a great whale uses baleen to trawl the sea. While the exact nature of this entity will be discussed below the cut, whats far more interesting is how the appearance of this dream labyrinth affects the lives of others.

A series of disappearances has the party tracing the city’s backstreets tracking rumours of a slaver gang or some kind of monstrous presence. Imagine their surprise when they not only find one of the lost individuals wandering in fevered confusion, standing before an alley from which unseasonable snow billows. 

Nearly swept up in the convolution as a child, a minor noble has bent the wealth of her station towards determining the meaning of that traumatic vision, becoming a notable patron for adventurers as she sends them off to explore various ruins or gather scraps of potentially relevant lore. The party are hired by her for a mission, but weeks later when they return from their delve they find that her estate has fallen prey to an otherworldly influence. They’ll need to brave the twisting halls of her manorhome and the hedgemazes that sprawl across the grounds if they want to get paid, and maybe rescue their hapless benefactor in the process. 

A fairly simple bounty mission to track down an occultist hiding in the mountains and bring him back alive quickly goes out of control after he opens a portal to the convolution inside his cell, transforming the surrounding guard barracks and its prisons into an eacheresque tangle backing onto an eldritch landscape. With other prisoners looking desperately to escape and panicking guards looking to arrest everyone they don’t recognize, will the party be able to escape before the whole structure is subsumed into nightmare?

The entity at the centre of the maze is seldom seen by those lost with the expanse as the upper reaches of the towering walls are obscured by an omnipresent cloud cover. As such no earthly name has been given to it, as the miles long tendrils it sends skulking through the corners are often confused for individual lifeforms which some call. It is not malicious, nor is it strictly sentient, it is simply a lifeform doing what it has always done to survive, nevermind that it involves pinching beings from across the cosmos. Creatures that die within the convolution desiccate, their bodies becoming dried out husks as the moisture within them is absorbed by the surrounding stone to feed the entity above and later join with the ever present snow, the built up condensation from innumerable victims across time.

Future Adventures:

Lost souls from many worlds have left marks on the walls of the convolution, pleas for help, attempts to map a way out, epitaphs and memorials from those that knew their end was near. One of these happened to be a sage with secret knowledge most relevant to the party's ongoing struggles, meaning if that they want to find it for themselves they're not only going to have to find their way into and through the labyrinth, but also Ariadne their way back out after finding and deciphering the message he left.

Though very little can survive long in the endless halls, there are some interdimensional oddities that have managed to persist around the fringes, carried from one world to the next as the Inclementus seeks out new victims.

The most fearful of these passengers are a remnants of an alien empire known as the Tssol who were led into the convolution when their god-prince decided to lead his people into the otherworld following a "holy vision" (and the encouragement by his less theisticly inclined siblings looking to clear a path to the throne). The survivors of this royal expedition have endured for centuries by by carving their city into the oldest walls of the labrynth, where the entity's fleshy stalks merge with the endless walls. They worship it, subsisting from the meat sloughed off as it grows and using the remains to feed fungal farms, counting themselves blessed for following the god-prince's vision. Those that stumble into the maze are of particular interest to them, as individuals affected by Inclementus influence are capable of wandering in and out of the aberrant realm allowing the Tssol warriors to ride out and launch raids on other worlds.

[punderdome]

The Fine Print: Chapter 8

Summary: Tav seeks out a set of Infernal translations from the Archivist.

[AO3]

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

Chapter 8: The Archivist

Tav woke alone in the Archduke’s chambers.  She was stiff and slightly sore but knew what she had to do.  Raphael enjoyed it when she spoke Infernal to him.  How much?  What could she convince him to do using the Devil’s tongue?  What would the devil's tongue do if she spoke the Devil's tongue?

First, she needed a competent translator that wasn’t her husband or his incubus.  Since she had negotiated for the ability to speak to the staff, the Archivist was her best bet for a translator, but he had never even looked at her before.  There was no way he was going to translate filthy lines unless she managed to gain some rapport with him.

Tav visited the archives after breakfast.

The Archivist was pouring over a tome and making notes on the side about a pair of gauntlets sitting on his desk.  They hummed with Weave and required a thorough characterization.

“Good morning,” Tav greeted warmly.  For the first time, the Archivist looked up at her and caught her gaze.  He seemed displeased by the interruption but completely unwilling to express it to the Master’s wife.

“How may I assist you, my Lady?” he asked patiently.

“What is your name?  I’m Tav - Tavara,” she corrected, unsure if he would ever consider using her name or if titles were all she was going to be given.

“Kilzire Ozvius, Master Archivist of the House of Hope,” he returned the gesture.  “Now, what can I help you with, Lady Tav?”

“I am trying to learn proper Devilish Infernal, can you help me with a few translations?”  Tav held out the Infernal copy of the book on Asmodeus that he loaned to her a few days prior.  The Tiefling considered her question for a brief moment before he nodded.  He gestured for her to show him the passages she was struggling with.

“I have been struggling with this passage that describes Asmodeus’s true serpentine form.  I initially read this as ‘wounds dripping of acid black blood’ but the Common tongue version says ‘a series of never-healing wounds that exude blood blackened by sin and torment.’  Can you help me understand the difference?”  Tav requested.

He took a second to understand her request before going through the section rune by rune.  “I see,” there was a look of slight hesitation in his eyes.  “So you’ve never studied Devilish Infernal before?”

Tav swallowed.  “No.  My lack of study is what led me here.”  Kilzire had a look in his eye that twinged with embarrassment, though whether it was from her husband’s view on Tiefling Infernal or some sort of forbidden knowledge of how she actually became the Archduchess, she couldn’t say.

He pointed out the runes that described the blood of Asmodeus.  “This word means never-healing wound in Infernal, but in Tiefling Infernal it means just wound.”  He gave her a different word in Infernal to indicate that the wound could be healed, then added a suffix to indicate that the wound was in the process of being healed.

“May I have some parchment and a quill, I would like to take notes.”  She wrote down the new terminology along with other examples of various types of wounds that may or may not be healable, in the process of being healed, mostly healed, failed to be healed, festering, fouled, necrotic, infected, and filled with devilish black pus.  He went through and explained the subtle differences between them, often with only a single letter difference or a change in inflection or tone marked by the slight changes in angle of the letters.

“In spoken Infernal, your original reading would be sufficient to communicate most of your ideas, but written down or in a contract, the translation provided would be the correct way to interpret the writing.”  Kilzire walked out from behind his desk and into the stacks.  He returned with a relatively thin book bound in brown leather.

“Wound Treatments for the Front Line of the Blood War?” Tav asked as she read the title on the cover.

“Should you wish to practice your new knowledge,” Kilzire explained briefly.

Tav realized how much of his time she had used, and she only asked for clarification on a single word.  “Thank you, Kilzire.”  She collected the two books and her notes and returned to her room.

She lay the books on her table.  She had an eternity to learn to properly read the works in front of her.  It was the only way she was going to be able to correct her mistakes.

That evening, Tav was summoned to dinner with her husband in the dining hall.  

The table was set with entirely too much food for the two of them to eat but nowhere nearly as lavish as the feasts for their first days of marriage.  She stood alone in the dining hall to wait for Raphael.  He came from behind her, probably having relocated from his study.

“Dear husband, how was your day?” Tav started the pleasantries.  She took an offered elbow, and they sat together at the dining table.

“Quite challenging, I’m afraid,” Raphael responded, starting to serve himself a large portion of some sort of dark meat that dripped black juices as he cut into it.  Tav declined to serve herself from that platter.

“With contracts?” Tav probed.  She took a buttery roll from the breadbasket and noticed an unappetizing yet familiar meat stew lurking behind it.  A platter of whole roasted fish on the table seemed like a safe choice.

“I was repairing the Orb of Karsus,” as he spoke of the artifact, Tav could sense his frustration as his knife cut deeper and more firmly into the flesh in front of him.

“I see, I’m sure it will be done soon enough,” Tav offered politely.  “Whenever it is ready, I’m curious to see it.”

Raphael chuckled slightly.  “How did it feel when it was within you?” he asked, taking a sip of wine.

Tav cocked her head slightly, startled by his question.  “I didn’t know that it was there, but for me I guess it felt more like an ache.”  She brushed her fingertips over the scales on her sternum.  “Like my stomach was upset because I consumed too much whiskey or that sensation when you poke at a bruise.”

“Such an adept description,  I felt a similar sensation upon testing it.  I shall have it complete soon, and then I will show you its dark beauty.”

When they finished eating, Tav took Raphael’s offered elbow and they strolled through the corridors together.  Tav pulled him gently towards the balcony that they had fucked on the day prior.  He chuckled and raised an eyebrow.

“Again?” Raphael teased.

“I didn’t really get to look at the horizon last time, as I was preoccupied,” Tav teased back.  She smirked at his radiating smugness.  She paused and gave a short chuckle.  “And yes, that position did feel very good,” she added, trying to play coy.  “Perhaps we should do that again,” she suggested with a smile.  The growl in Raphael’s chest was almost imperceptible.

Tav gazed over the reddish horizon at the low, inhospitable rocky mountains.  The land was jagged and barren, it was hard to believe that this was the site of so much conquering and conflict.  This was the place her dear husband wanted to claim.  This was the place she would eternally call home.

Raphael offered her a hand to lead her back to their chambers.  Tav was lost in thought as they headed back to his bedchamber for the evening.  They walked together in silence, her hand wrapped around his arm at the elbow.

She was starting to observe how Raphael took her contact.  The Infernal flirting was hot and exciting.  Direct requests were met with more challenges and demands.  When he fingered her it was an ‘indulgence.’

When they entered his bedchamber, Raphael wasted no time undressing her as soon as the latch clicked shut.

“Why don’t we take our time?” Tav suggested as Raphael slid her smallclothes down her thighs.  “We can relax and savor it.”  Her suggestion gave him a slight pause.  Now that she was bare, he lowered his mouth to hers and started to kiss her softly and slowly.

Tav took her time exploring him over his clothes.  She was hoping that he would find the experience enjoyable enough to reciprocate.

“Come,” Tav bade him, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the bed.  She motioned for him to lay down, but he stayed standing.  Alright, standing it would be.

Tav circled around to his back.  She let her hands roam softly over the Infernal ridges hidden by his doublet.  She gently ran her hands through the hair at the back of his neck.  She stroked the skin of his wings gently, feeling the softness of the greater membrane and gently contrasting it to the firm leathery skin that covered the bones and muscles beneath.  She wrapped her arms around him from behind and felt a deep, contented hum emanate from his chest.

Raphael sighed slowly, as Tav started undressing him.  She undid every button on his doublet slowly, and removed it from his body.  She unlaced his undershirt, tracing over his chest with her hands lightly, trying to tease him, and a quick tension in his breath indicated it was working.  He pulled the undershirt off over his head and discarded it.

Tav rested her cheek against his chest as she started to trace the hem of the waistband of his pants with her fingertips, eliciting a breathy growl from her devilish husband.  She unlaced his pants and slid them off, leaving both of them bare.

She met her husband’s gaze.  He was eager and hungry, with an erection to support that assessment.  Her hands gripped his shaft and gave a few eager pumps, and deep groans emanated from his Infernal chest.

Tav took his hands and placed them over her breasts, encouraging him to touch.  She grabbed one of his hands and moved it to her ass, encouraging him to squeeze.  She moved the hand that was groping her ass between her legs, encouraging him to stroke.  She moaned into the sensation of Raphael pleasuring her.

Within the next ten seconds, Raphael had decided foreplay was done, and Tav was deposited on the bed for the evening’s activities.

***

Tav visited the archive the next morning.  She was prepared with the first test of what Kilzare was willing to translate for her, and it was prudent to start with something benign.  The Archivist was in the process of cataloging old tomes.

“Good morning, Kilzare,” she greeted warmly.

“Good morning, Lady Tav.  Did you need something?  More reading materials perhaps?”

“You know well enough that I am trying to learn Devilish Infernal, can you help me with a phrase?”

“Why of course, I speak all forms fluently,” he asserted gently with a smile.

“Can you teach me to say ‘I want you to kiss me all night’?” Tav requested.

He laughed and gave a bright smile.  “For the Master of the House, I presume.  I’m sure he will respond well to your gesture of romance.”  He spoke the words in Devilish Infernal, and Tav took detailed notes, documenting the word differences between the translation she anticipated and the one she was presented with.  “Should you require additional reading materials or inspiration, that section contains poetry and there is a section in the back for romantic classics of both Faerun and the Nine Hells of Baator.”  Tav smiled at him sweetly.

She pointed out a section of his translation.  “And this word, how does it mean ‘all night?’” she asked for clarification repeating the confusing part of the sentence.

“Without the suffix, it means ‘at nighttime’ but with the suffix it means ‘for all nighttime.'  As you can gather, that doesn’t get much use here in Avernus.”  Tav laughed, nodding at the clarification.

“Thank you, Kilzare.”

Tav smiled to herself as she walked the corridors of the House of Hope. The Archivist had been willing to translate romantic lines, so there was a chance he might be willing to assist her with a more carnal set of translations.   Still, this evening would be a small test on how willing Raphael was willing to follow verbal instructions or requests before he lost patience and claimed his pleasure.

***

The test of Raphael’s patience and interest had not gone well.  Tav whispered in Raphael’s ear, “I want to kiss you all night,” in a voice as seductive as she could make the harsh language sound.  He grinned and was highly amenable to a passionate make out session on the settee, for a while at least.

His control over himself for quite some time, and he even managed some light groping while keeping his composure.  Before long, he had dumped her on the bed and was quickly unlacing her corset.  His mouth was still on hers, locked in a deep kiss and a low groan emanating from his throat.  Then, they fucked.  Twice.

Raphael lay wrapped around her, running his claws through her curls.  “My love,” he whispered in her ear before they fell asleep.

The next morning, Raphael had left to finalize contracts in his study, leaving Tav free for the day to visit the archive at her leisure.  Maybe a more seductive statement would lead to a better outcome.

Tav walked into the archive, and saw Kilzire taking copious notes on a scroll over something he had been reading.  He gave a slight smile as she approached.

“Good morning, Lady Tav, how may I assist you?”

“I need a Devilish Infernal translation of something.  Can you help me smooth out the language?”

“Why yes, of course.  Whatever do you need?”

“I need you to teach me to say ‘I want you to trace my entire body with your tongue, ” Tav explained.

Any warmth that had been in his guise or his voice immediately vanished.  “You must be joking.”  

“Not in the slightest.”

“You realize that there is an entire section dedicated to erotica right over there! ” He pointed wildly at a back corner.  She would have to investigate it later.

She steadied her emotions.  “Will you help me or not?”

“Yes,” he bit back, rubbing his temples in an act of self soothing.  He gave her the correct translation and slumped over his desk.

“Thank you,” Tav said quietly as she left the archive.  Kilzare irritably waved her away with the back of his hand.

After dinner that evening, Raphael eagerly took her back to their bedroom to continue celebrating their honeymoon.

Tav whispered the Infernal line to Raphael telling him how she wanted him to trace her entire body with his tongue, and he immediately leapt at the opportunity.  He was attentive and eager, holding, kneading, stroking and licking.  They both gave warm moans of arousal as he traced each of her nipples slowly.  He just couldn’t make it any lower than that.   As soon as his tongue finished tracing both breasts, it was time for sex.  He just couldn’t wait any longer and was eager to be pleasured.

Tav finished herself off that night while Raphael was asleep, curled tightly around her.

She would have to think of other things much filthier to compel her husband to follow her instructions in his bedchamber.

***

After a tenday of honeymoon beddings, the appropriate number of nara root tea doses, and Kilzare’s flustered breakdowns, Tav sat frustrated at her vanity in her room, preparing to meet her Lord husband for dinner.  

He wanted her every day, and usually twice.  He had never once given her an orgasm.  The times she was close to coming when they fucked, he finished too quickly for her to reach that peak.  He didn’t like it when she touched herself, and he always swatted her fingers away from her clit when she stroked herself.  It was like he was jealous that her hands could give her pleasure without him being involved.

She couldn’t just ask Raphael to eat her out.  Everything with him was a negotiation.  If she asked him to pleasure her with his mouth, he definitely would demand she did the same to him in return.   He wouldn’t even finger her to orgasm, and there was no chance she was going to suck his cock if he wouldn’t put in the minimum amount of effort when they fucked.

Tav wasn’t sure the Infernal seduction phrases were working on her husband.  They seemed to only make him more eager to discontinue foreplay and move straight into fucking.

There was a knock at her door.  “My Lady, the Master of the House has requested you join him for dinner,” a maid relayed through the door.

“Very well,” Tav responded through the closed door.  She donned a red dress and the silver bracelet Raphael gifted her as a wedding gift.  He had enjoyed fucking her several times while she was wearing only the bracelet.

Raphael stood waiting in the dining hall.  “My beloved,” he greeted her magnanimously, grinning ear to ear.

Tav smiled nervously.  “You seem delighted, husband.  Are contracts going well?”

Raphael didn’t answer, he pulled back a chair and motioned her to sit.  Tav sat down and allowed him to indulge her.  He took his place by her side.

“I have mended the Orb of Karsus, and this merits a celebration.”  He poured two goblets of wine and passed one to her.

“Well, now you are in possession of the full Regalia of Karsus.  So much power at your fingertips,” Tav complimented.  Powerful fingertips that couldn’t be bothered to bring her to orgasm.

“It is indeed, my love,” Raphael grinned.  “The godlike power of the Regalia will enable me to take over the nine Hells.”  He grabbed portions of the meat dishes nearest to him.  Raphael cut into the toughest cuts with glee.

Tav served herself vegetables and a dish she was confident was beef.  “I have full confidence in your abilities,” she offered up in conversation.

“When I have spent more time exploring the power of the Regalia, I would love for you to see a demonstration.”

“I look forward to it, husband.”  Tav took a slow sip of her wine.  If Raphael had the Regalia already, maybe the Hells would leave her alone.  She was clearly not a threat.   There was light conversation as they finished their meals.

“I have a gift for you, my beautiful wife,” Raphael moved behind her.  He snapped and an object appeared in his hands that Tav couldn’t see.  He extended something around her neck and she immediately recognized the coldness of jewelry.  “I asked for five pendant rubies this time instead of one.”  He idly grasped her hand that bore the ruby bracelet from his wedding gift.  He turned her wrist over several times.  “One gemstone wasn’t enough.”

Tav brought a hand up to her throat, feeling the coldness of the silver.  “Thank you, dear husband.”   

Raphael extended a hand.  “Shall we go to bed?” he asked with a grin.  Tav sighed and took it.

***

Tav was pretty sure her plan wasn’t going to work, but at present she had no better ideas.  Maybe she could have a reliable way of making him come quickly when she just wasn’t excited about her husband’s affections.

Tav entered the archive, and Kilzare gave an audible groan.

“I don’t want to hear it, my Lady Tav,” he protested.

“Raphael needs to hear it, Kilzare.”

“Hells, what do you want me to translate now?” he demanded, the look on his face indicating that he was eager to get back to his work and to put the very concept of his boss having active nether regions out of his mind.

“ ‘Give me your fingers, so I can show you just how much I desire you,’ ” Tav answered in an absurdly straightforward fashion.  

Kilzire stared at her.  His mouth tightened in a deep frown.

“I studied at the top universities to be competent enough to serve an Archduke of the Hells.  Now, here I am, doing this,” he lamented. 

“Think about it,” Tav started with her prepared argument,  “has Raphael hurt you or threatened to hurt you since we started our honeymoon?  Who has he flayed?”

His eyes hit the rafters and he swallowed slowly in a deep show of indignity.  “No one, Lady Tav.”

“Do you want to keep it that way?” Tav inquired.

Kilzare took a deep sigh before translating the sexually charged statement for her. He gave her the phrase in Devilish Infernal, and Tav took detailed notes about each word choice he made.  There were only a few small adjustments from the initial translation that she had fabricated earlier.  “Can I just translate them in bulk?” he asked with a twinge of disgust.

Tav sighed, trying to respect his boundaries but also trying not to betray the real reason that she needed the phrase list updated daily.  “Not really,” she grimaced.

Tav’s assessment of her husband’s reaction to infernal seduction turned out to be correct.  He was never going to do what she asked, and it made him too excited to last long.   Tav utilized the second half of the effects many times, much to her displeasure.

***

One night, Tav woke to cambion claws gently tracing her naked curves and a very hard erection pressed into her lower back.

“Raphael?” she asked, still slightly sleepy.  He hummed a throaty acknowledgement into her ear.  They were spooning, with Raphael draped around her and caressing her with his free hand.  The one laying beneath her grasped her stomach.

“There you are, my dearest.  I was just admiring you.”  His fingers traced circles around her nipples, making them hard.  Tav sucked in a breath of anticipation.

Raphael traced his forked tongue down the back of her neck.  His tail had crept all the way up her thigh and squeezed gently in a subconscious rhythm.  He left kisses down her back and shoulder.

Tav moved to try to roll under him, but his tail and the arm stroking her wouldn’t let her move.  “Naughty, eager Little Mouse,” Raphael whispered in her ear.  “I want you just like this.  A slow, languid bit of pleasure for us to enjoy.”

Though he held her facing away from him, she reached back around him to grab his ass and run her hands over the ridges on his hip bone.  He raised his hand to trace a claw over her jawbone, and Tav lifted her top thigh, so his legs could entwine with hers.  He shifted her so that the arm that rested under her was able to assist in soft caresses.  Tav brought her hand to her clit and pressed in firm, slow circles.  She let out a soft, breathless moan.

His free hand grabbed his hardness and pushed it between her legs, waiting to enter her.  Tav quickly tested how wet she was.

“Not yet, I’m not wet enough,” she breathed before going back to touch herself.  Raphael continued to kiss her back and shoulders, though they became staccatoed instead of soft with an undercurrent of frustration.  As Tav let out another soft groan of pleasure, Raphael replaced her hand with his and took her place pleasuring her.  She could feel his restlessness pulse through his tail and his erection between her legs.

Tav pressed two fingers into her entrance and scissored and thrust them in a rhythm she liked.  The moan she let out was no longer soft or breathless.  Raphael grabbed her hand and removed her fingers.  He brought her slick fingers to his mouth and licked them clean.

“Now?” Raphael asked softly with an air of tension in his voice.

“This feels so good, finish me,” Tav moaned as Raphael continued to stroke her.

He stopped stroking her and ran his hand over her breasts.  “Such a greedy, greedy Little Mouse,” he growled in response.  Her husband thrust deeply into her.  He was slow and languid as he moved with a consistent rhythm.

Tav angled her hips properly for Raphael’s movements, and he began to take his pleasure in earnest.  He held her tightly within his arms, one hand gripping her hips while the other wrapped around her torso with his hand gripping between her shoulder and collarbone.  She enjoyed the joining and the pleasurable way his ridges dragged within her, but this angle refused her friction where she wanted it.

Tav reached between her legs to stroke her clit.  Her breathy moans met Raphael’s.  After a few more thrusts, Raphael grabbed the hand stroking her clit and removed it.  He replaced her fingers with his own.

“I am your pleasure, my Little Mouse,” he growled into her ear.  He gave a few more thrusts before coming inside her.  “My beloved,” he purred in her ear.  He held her tightly and fell asleep again still inside her.

It had been two tendays of their honeymoon trying to get Raphael to do anything to please her.  The Infernal flirting and seduction had only served to wind him up more.  He didn’t actually listen to anything she asked for or consider anything she wanted.  It was so much simpler for him to buy her things and fuck her rather than to try to build some sort of actual relationship.  S he really was just an object to him, exactly what Haarlep had told her.  She was his new sex toy.  That was all she was ever going to be.  Forever.

Tav closed her eyes tightly as the cambion lay wrapped around her and softened inside her.  Sleep was not going to come easily.  She had a new plan, and she had to begin tomorrow.

She was going to find the divorce loophole for her contract.

[mysticstarlightduck]

Magic System, But Badly Tag! (1)

Thank you so much for the tag @cowboybrunch (here)!

Rules: Explain the magic system of your current WIP as poorly as possible. Bonus points if you use bullet points.

Let's talk about the magic system of Song of Thorns (:

Elemental

ATLA vibes but medieval

someone really should keep an eye on the Initiates - these angsty teenagers with a god complex should not be left unattended

Powers range from "Look, I can light a candle with the tip of my finger, isn't it neat?" to "I CAN CONTROL THE STORMS, FEAR ME" and it is complicated

Lesson No. 1 - Don't trust the nice instructors on the weird-looking trial maze or you will die = STREET SMARTS

who cares about reading all those ancient tomes, let's improvise in the middle of an untamed wilderness or ocean brimming with wild magic, now that's a good idea

Animus Codex

soul magic with a celestial's blessing

can weave fates, lives, and entire existences with a series of secret runes on a specific set of cards/tablets

a select group of people know what tf is going on with this magic but everyone is too afraid to really ask

rune casting requires ancient magic components that definitely are anything but safe

either the celestials loved this civilization way too much or hated it with a passion

Sanguinex Arts (human only)

Lazy human royals really wanted to be vampires but didn't want to transform themselves and made it everyone's problem

"Can I copy your homework?" "No, absolutely not -!" "Too late already did it."

A cheap knockoff of something beyond mortal comprehension created by an insane set of human sorcerers who could not give less of a fuck

"I think I understand how they do it" - they did not, in fact understand how it was done

Feast your eyes on the eldritch abominations and trauma inducing shite created by human stupidity at its finest

A distortion of all that is moral and decent, used by the royals to expand their lifespans and oppress those who do not have access to their power

A generally bad time

Traditional Hemomancy (Vampyr/Fey only)

an ancient Vampyr tradition, tied to their very existence (and which was cheaply copied by humans to create the Sanguinex)

"General rule of thumb - do not piss off a vampire who has something or someone to protect, unless you fancy seeing how your insides look on the outsides"

Create & Destroy, Life & Death - this magic can heal or kill and is connected to the balance of nature

Blood Magic mixed with Matter Manipulation

"Roses are red, violets are blue, if the moon turns crimson you'll die soon" - a lesson some characters in this book should've learned before venturing further into this land

generally chill and laid back sorcerers who really don't want to have to use their powers to hurt people and just wanna have a good time

Alchemical Sorcery

Fucked Around and Found Out, Special Edition.

Potions slowly change you to be able to cast magic but it's fine because you know what you're doing. Hopefully.

Chemical components and suspicious magical ingredients create unforeseen creations = chemistry magic

You are cursed with the knowledge you wish you never had

Need to go to an elite academia to get a certificate permission in case you blow stuff up with your alchemy

Let's shape the very matter of existence after chemistry class 101

Melodis Mortem (forbidden)

"The Song of the Dead" - just a fancy name for a bunch of academia dropouts practicing off-the-book necromancy in a cult.

Let's raise your great-grandpa from beyond the grave because what could possibly go wrong- and he is now a murderous ghoul. Yeah, my bad. We'll do better next time.

Necromancer bards

All these books, guidelines and bloodied ritual circles might just be a way of hiding the fact they don't know what tf they're doing and are relying on lucky improv most of the time.

🎶Spooky scary skeletons send shivers down your spine🎶

"Well, well, well if it isn't the Consequences of my actions."

Mechana Ignis (elven only, secret)

combustion magic

steampunk/solarpunk elf society

gunpowder/"Sunpowder" go brr

"Nah, we ain't sharing this with you lunatics, bruv. This is our magic that goes boom and pew-pew on command. Not yours, nuh-uh, you're too fucking crazy to use it responsibly."

elves bored with eternity decide to do cool science stuff to pass the time and the world isn't ready for it

Tagging: @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab, @little-peril-stories

@the-ellia-west, @winterandwords, @cowboybrunch, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@leave-her-a-tome, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams and OPEN TAG

[fipindustries]

im going to speak about the vampair series for a quick sec here, i know i never bring it up but unsurprisingly i am a huge fan of it, and specially of daria cohen, is no surprise she was a main animator in the hazbin hotel pilot, she did basically the same thing vivziepop did with hazbin hotel which is grab a style and aesthetic which is very much of its time, that hot topicky, tim burton-esque, deviant art era gothic story and manage to carry it all the way through to today and build a genuine IP that reached the mayor leagues (she got multiple shout outs by actual voltaire! what the fuck!!!)

but anyway, leaving all that aside, the thing i wanted to talk about is the last few videos and how they hilariously put into context the count within the vampire community.

at first one thinks of the count as this "Vampyr", right? this old ancient, powerful, evil force of darkness who has centuries on his back, tomes of forbidden lore, and a big mansion with thousands of spookums and secrets and curses hidden in every corner.

then it turns out he is like, what, 25 years old? at most? he seems to have ran away from home as a teenager, in relatively modern times judging by the clothes, and then he got immediatly turned into a vampire. so he is just a kid, first and foremost.

but on top of that he seems to be a kid that kind of chose to stay apart from the rest of the vampire community after seeing all the fighting and the killing that goes on. so he is not even really bloodthirsty or gunning for blood and violence.

and then you see how other vampires dress and are styled and how they carry themselves compared with him and there is this sense that while the others are dressed stylishly and practical, he is very much cosplaying being a vampire

he is just a nerdy loner weirdo (not even that particularly evil, just kind of a creep) even amongst vampires, who just wants to stay at his mannor and be a spooky vampire and ignore all the silly politics and drama of the vampire world. the guy just wants to hang out in hell and have sex with zombies and get into ridiculous toxic fights with his situashionship. and somehow he came across this super powerful magic artifact that lets him do just that.

i love him so much

[skepsiss]

Reflection: Eddie's POV

This is a 4 part mini-series about the Fruity Four. It's 1989 and Steve, Eddie, and Robin are visiting Hawkins over winter break. Nancy has invited them all over for a little Christmas get-together, and we read from the point of view of each member of the crew across 1 event.

I wrote these pieces to be read in any order, so... enjoy some Steddie, vague Ronance, Vickie x Robin, and just the Fruity Four being... fruity.

Dialogue prompt "You Remember That?" for @thefreakandthehair's Spicy Six Winter Fanworks Challenge. Page break/border by @/alderdoodle.bsky.social on Bluesky.

Rating: T Words: 3,072 CW: Swearing, scars/injury, sexual language

Steve's Part Robin's Part Nancy's Part Eddie's Part

Nancy shut the door and Eddie stepped awkwardly down the front stoop with Steve’s help. He was treating Eddie like he was some kind of delicate ballerina or something, and it only vaguely bothered Eddie because he was wearing Nancy’s coat. He had left his proper winter coat at home by mistake, and of course tonight of all nights the weather gods had decided to launch Hawkins into a snowstorm. Just his luck, really—especially after he had bet Steve that their rental car wouldn’t get stuck in the snow during their visit. He had been dead wrong and now their only way back to the trailer was by foot and well… the trailer park was on the opposite side of town. 

“Hey Steve,” someone greeted from behind them, and Eddie slowly turned. “Hey Nance, where are—-oh.”

It was Mike, and he actually took half a step back when Eddie turned to look at him.

“Eddie?” He asked, looking startled before his brows creased, and his mouth tried to form words for a question.

“I forgot my coat,” Eddie said with a sharp frown, sounding vaguely threatening. “One word, Wheeler, and you’re dead meat.”

“Jeez—okay, I just wanted to—-sorry,” Mike replied, sounding defensive despite folding easily under Eddie’s glare.

“Hey, Mike,” Steve responded, leaning around Eddie slightly before tugging him in beside him. “We’re just leaving. We’ll be back around in a few days, probably, though.”

“Uh, yeah, cool, I was actually hoping I’d catch you before you left, Eddie. I can’t find the like initiation stuff you used for us when we first joined Hellfire, where is it? Do you remember that?”

“Uhhh….” Eddie replied, a bit stunned at being made to remember something so long ago—it was only 2 years, but he could hardly remember what he ate for breakfast sometimes.

“Theatre costume room, maybe?” He replied, shrugging. “I really don’t remember, dude. I’ll ponder on it, though, see if I can unlock something out of Mordenkainen's Tome.”

The two of them exchanged a chuckle at Eddie’s reference before they properly parted ways.

Steve trudged across the lawn, and Eddie shivered in his wake as he followed his footsteps through the snow. He took Steve’s hand once again when they reached the sidewalk and tucked in close to his side.

“Whose Mortem… Mortemkinim?” Steve asked, his voice lacking shyness for needing clarification. They had gotten well past the point of Steve needing to be embarrassed about asking for clarification on nerd stuff.

“Mordenkainen,” Eddie corrected lightly, “he’s like an arch-mage in Greyhawk who invents a bunch of magic… things. Has these planar tomes he has forbidden knowledge in and all that.”

“DnD shit?” Steve asked, raising a brow.

“DnD shit,” Eddie confirmed with a chuckle.

“You’re such a fucking nerd,” Steve teased, and Eddie glanced up to see him rolling his eyes. He was smiling still, though, which made Eddie grin back.

“You loooooovvveee it,” Eddie singsonged, knocking his temple against Steve’s head gently. “Got a fetish for it or something.”

“Excuse me?” Steve asked, accusatory, leaning away from Eddie with a laugh. “How the hell is that a fetish? What are your sources, Munson?”

“Uh, my eyes?” Eddie replied acrimoniously. “My eyes, my mouth, my ass–”

“Okay, enough, we have to walk for another thirty minutes at least, I don’t need this right now.”

Eddie snorted but relented, pleased that he had won that debate.

“It is nice, though,” Eddie said after a few moments of silence. He looked at the sky as they walked, watching the fluffy flakes of snow falling down on them. “Hawkins looking like this. Quiet… walking around the streets with you… holding your hand.”

Eddie looked back at Steve, who smiled faintly at him. He looked soft and despite how cold it was outside, Eddie could swear he felt heat radiating off of Steve from how much he glowed. He looked positively smitten.

Eddie had to look away, and he grinned down at the sidewalk instead, chuckling in an almost shy way.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Eddie swallowed, chewing his lip a bit out of nervousness. Steve could still make his chest and stomach explode with butterflies, even all these years later.

“Like what?” Steve asked, sounding amused as he nudged Eddie’s shoulder with his own.

“Like that–” Eddie laughed, leaning away dramatically from Steve’s friendly shoulder check. “Like you’re completely satisfied with life and more in love with me than anything else in the world.”

“I am in love with you…” Steve replied softly, and Eddie reached up and pulled the brim of his beanie down over his eyes.

He was grinning like an idiot, and Eddie could feel his cheeks cramping from how happy he was. He was being foolish and perhaps a bit juvenile, but he loved hearing Steve say things like that. It was so soft, and it made his heart soar like nothing else.

“You’re so fucking cute…” Steve complimented, which made Eddie pull his hat down further and groan.

“God, shut up,” he huffed, on the verge of giggling.

Eddie hadn’t anticipated it, but suddenly Steve’s arms were around his middle as he was being picked up off his feet.

Eddie shrieked with laughter, the hold only lasting for a moment before Steve was leaning over his shoulder and kissing his neck and cheek.

“Stop it!” Eddie whooped, trying to wriggle from Steve’s hold as he bent at the waist to get away. It didn’t do much to help except pull Steve further over his shoulder, so they were both shuffling gracelessly through the snow.

“I can’t,” Steve chastised, still kissing at what little bits of skin he could reach. “You’re just so goddamn adorable.”

He pulled the brim of Eddie’s hat up, and Eddie couldn’t control the giggles that escaped him as he feebly pulled away from his boyfriend. God, they were acting like such teenagers. They were so stupid. They were so stupid and so in love, and Eddie wouldn’t change a single second of it.

“I’m not adorable,” Eddie complained, still smiling, but his laughter had died down. “I’m supposed to be a metal-god. Devil spawn, heart-breaker extraordinaire!”

He heard Steve chuckle in his ear before relenting and giving him one good kiss on the cheek.

“Yeah, a metal-god that makes me buy chocolate milk for him and who watches Banjo the Woodpile Cat on repeat when he’s feeling sentimental. Which is like… at least once a month.” Steve retorted, still grinning as he moved back to Eddie’s side.

“Shut up, man,” Eddie laughed, punching Steve in the shoulder as they continued to walk. “You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone that on pain of death.”

“You see anyone else around?” Steve asked, gesturing to the empty streets.

The orange glow of the street lights was making velvety shadows spread across the snow, the various Christmas lights from people’s yards joining in to create a nativity of colours. It was romantic, and it felt like they had slipped into a nulspace or the ethereal realm where they were the only ones around. It felt gossamer, and Eddie found himself longing for the old streets of Hawkins that he had so readily left behind a little over a year ago. 

“Just you, handsome,” Eddie replied, regaining a bit of his composure as he took Steve’s hand again. 

It was Steve’s turn to chuckle with flattery, and Eddie took the pause in their conversation to hustle ahead of Steve slightly.

“If there was someone around,” Eddie asked, striking a dramatic pose as he put his hand on his waist and cocked his hip. “You think they’d recognize me?”

Steve snorted at him and continued to walk, seemingly unfazed by Eddie’s antics.

“Doubt it,” Steve teased, poking Eddie in the stomach as he passed. Eddie flinched away with a smirk, despite not being able to feel the touch through the heavy parka. 

“That thing does wonders for your waist, though, makes you look curvy as hell.”

“Awww, you miss the curves, Steve?” Eddie asked, only feeling thin-skinned as he trotted up beside his boyfriend again. Despite them dating for two years, Eddie still had these moments of fear and anxiety over their relationship. Steve had been such a womanizer before they started dating—and he had pulled it off well, too. Every woman loved him. But he had somehow settled for thin-as-a-rail, chaos-gremlin, Eddie Munson who hardly had an ass for Steve to grab.

“Sometimes,” Steve admitted, and Eddie felt his stomach drop as he went quiet.

“But,” Steve shrugged, seemingly unbothered. “I’d miss a whole lot more than curves if I lost you.”

Eddie snorted at that and looked away again, Steve’s comment helping to banish his insecurities for now. 

Yeah… if they broke up—gods forbid—hearing that Steve would miss his body and what he had to offer felt reassuring. Despite hardly having an ounce of meat on his bones, he knew Steve found him attractive. He had heard it and seen it in the way Steve stared at him; how his breath hitched when Eddie stood at the foot of the bed with nothing on. He knew Steve found him attractive… it just felt difficult sometimes to stand in front of a literal Greek god—a man carved from marble in the likeness of the hero of Troy—and compare himself to that. Steve was positively radiant. 

“You getting in your head again?” Steve asked, which shook Eddie from his reverence. He blinked at Steve and then stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend.

“Only a little,” he admitted, looping his arm with Steve’s once again. 

They were a little more than halfway to the trailer park, and Eddie breathed deep as he felt his nose begin to tingle from the cold.

“Can we have a bath when we get back?” Eddie asked, swinging Steve’s arm a bit as they walked, needing to release some of the energy that was building in his limbs.

“A bath?” Steve asked, letting Eddie manhandle him however he liked. “It’ll be 11 at night by the time we’re back.”

“Yeah, so?” Eddie retorted, looking at Steve as if he was an idiot. “We’re on vacation, 11 pm baths aren’t anywhere near the freaky shit I want to get up to.” 

“Oh, I’ll be sure to mark that down and check off ‘breakfast in bed,’ ‘12 pm wake-up calls,’ and ‘assembling Christmas puzzles on the living room rug’ on the freaky list,” Steve replied sarcastically. 

Eddie smacked Steve’s arm with the back of his hand, the action having no real force behind it.

“God, am I getting boring?” Eddie asked, snorting slightly. But the question tickled a small part of his brain, reminding him that all of those things were painfully boring. 

He still had the goal of becoming a Rock Star, but he was less driven than he had been as a teen. 

Rock fame had been the only thing that was going to get him away from Hawkins-–away from his old man’s shadow—but along came Steve Harrington, who had whisked him away. Eddie was content now, and that was odd for him. He wasn’t sure if he had ever been content in his life before now. 

“I don’t think you’re boring,” Steve offered, awkwardly trudging his way through a snow drift and then offering his hand to Eddie to help him over it. Eddie didn’t need help, and he casually refused Steve’s hand in favour of making his own path.

“But that might just be because I’m pretty boring,” Steve admitted, watching Eddie as he struggled through the snow. 

It was denser than Eddie had realized, and he regretfully had pants that were not suited for this kind of weather. He didn’t exactly want to get them wet, since they had another twenty minutes of walking left.

“You’re not—boring,” Eddie huffed, awkwardly shifting and sticking his arms out to balance himself so he wouldn’t fall over. “You’re a badass. B-A-D-D… ass.”

He was concentrating on not falling and not paying attention at all to the fact that he had spelled ‘bad’ wrong. Eddie had at least made it to the crest of the drift, but now he was regretting his trajectory.

“And now I’m boring,” Steve said lightly. He reached for Eddie and grabbed his waist, hoisting him up easily enough and depositing him on the road. The move almost looked practised—like Steve was in a ballet and Eddie was some damsel leaping from the porch and into his lover’s arms so they could do the two-step for an audience. Really, the effort on Steve’s part hadn’t been too great, but it was still mind-blowingly hot. 

“I like it that way.”

Steve was still talking, saying something about being boring and how he liked that his life was much simpler now. He’d had enough adventure for a lifetime in the span of 3 years, and he was content to have people think he was dull. Unfazed and unbothered by the notion that someone would dismiss him out of hand or think of him as ‘uncool.’

Eddie was just admiring him and wondering how anyone could look at Steve and think he was boring. 

“What’re you going to do when I become famous?” Eddie asked, his words dreamy and distracted sounding.

Steve looked at him properly, and Eddie could see his boyfriend’s eyes scanning his face.

“Do I have to be famous too?” Steve asked, sounding vaguely amused.

“You’re good-looking,” Eddie shrugged, “you’d sell tabloids.”

“I think you’re good-looking enough to sell your own tabloid,” Steve retorted, teasing, but obviously flattering Eddie of purpose.

Eddie glanced away again, but this time there was less smiling and more shame. He was shy still, but insecurity etched into his brain thinking about himself plastered across a magazine cover.

“I don’t know… might be a bit hard convincing everyone of that,” Eddie said quietly, “cause…”

Eddie gestured vaguely at his jaw, motioning toward the scar that jutted up his neck and along his jaw. The skin was ropey and stretched looking since the wound had healed poorly, and he didn’t have the money for plastic surgery to fix it. Instead, he just hid the mar with his hair and tried to forget about it when he was in public. It was an insecurity, and Eddie feared that even in the metal scene he wouldn’t be palatable. Before the attack, he had sort of always relied on being decent-looking in order to help his career along, especially when he did his eye makeup for the stage. 

He wished it didn’t bother him. 

“How many times do I have to tell you this?”

Steve’s words were soft, and they pulled Eddie’s attention as he flicked his gaze up toward his boyfriend.

Steve was reaching forward, and Eddie flushed slightly as Steve ran cold fingers over the side of his neck and then soothed his thumb along Eddie’s jaw. He was touching the scar even though that spot had dulled nerves. He was touching the scar and staring at Eddie with such gentle affection that Eddie’s breath hitched. 

Two years. Two years and just a look from Steve could make Eddie feel weightless.

“You’re gorgeous…” Steve complimented, his eyes flicked across Eddie’s face as if he was taking all of him in. He truly looked captivated, and Eddie couldn’t help but stare back at Steve with stunned awe; his eyes large and his heart feeling like it was going to beat out of his chest. 

“If someone is bothered by this,” Steve commented, running his thumb over the scar again, “then they’re an idiot. Plus, it’s badass, right?”

Eddie huffed a small breath at Steve’s comment, feeling as if he had to deny the compliment, but also feeling incredibly touched by the reassurance. He wasn’t sure if that was right, but Steve didn’t seem to bat an eye at his scars-–and not in an effort to ignore them, either. 

Instead of looking away this time, Eddie glanced down the road both ways. It was night, and the wind had let up, making way for lazy snowflakes to fall silently down on Hawkins. No one was out, and it was late enough that even the windows of people’s porches were out. No one would recognize him anyway. 

Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck and ducked in for a kiss, feeling terribly romantic as he indulged in the slow affection.

Steve didn’t resist in the least, and Eddie sighed through his nose as Steve wrapped his other arm around Eddie’s middle and continued to stroke along the scar on his face. 

They stayed like that for a while, kissing quietly, until eventually Eddie brushed his lips against Steve’s cheek and tucked into his neck for a warm embrace.

“You tired?” Steve asked against his ear, kissing the side of his hat where his ear should be. He dropped his other hand to Eddie's waist and swayed them slightly, leaving lingering kisses against Eddie’s temple now and again.

Eddie just nodded slowly; the exhaustion of the day had caught up to him, and he felt like crawling into a warm bed with Steve and snuggling up as close as possible to him. Eddie was so in love… he was so in love, and Steve took such good care of him. There was no one else in the world that he loved more than Steve, and it baffled Eddie still that Steve felt the same way about him.

“Come on,” Steve said gently, slowly breaking their embrace and taking Eddie’s hand to lead him down the street.

Eddie lamely fell in behind his boyfriend and pressed against the back of his shoulder so he could half lean his cheek on Steve’s shoulder while they walked.

Everything felt so wonderful and warm despite the bitter cold. They were still ten minutes away from the trailer, but Eddie didn’t really mind all that much. It almost felt like he could doze off with how slowly he was shuffling with Steve. The holiday season had never been one of relaxation for Eddie before he started dating Steve, but now he felt like maybe he could relate to all those crummy Christmas movies and how love and peace they were. Steve made everything feel a bit brighter.

Gods… he loved this man. In all Eddie’s years on this godforsaken planet, he never thought he’d be so lucky as to date a man like Steve Harrington. 

[th3-0bjectivist]

The Great Unlearning, and the ruined Tri-Towers in the Ash

In the western center of Atma’Zae, the bent and skeletal remains of what was once a city of higher learning lies abandoned, broken and cursed under a hazy and poisoned sky. Those that dare to gaze upon the remnants of the Ash Crossroads speak of the sight of gloriously colorful and enigmatic ruins. Stabbing ever skyward, three decimated towers still arise from the embers of a capital city which was contaminated by volcanic powder and shook by a series of earthquakes not but four decades previously. These are the Towers of Magick, Industry, and Insight. Now resting in the desolate, nothingness of the Ash, the books of the Realm’s history are piled messily in fields of stacks below the Tri-Towers. It is rumored that so much as the delicate touch of one’s fingertips can turn these fields of books to hovering cinders, for their information is forbidden and forever better unlearned. Once known as Qraeto, this once-city is best left entirely evaded by travellers seeking to avoid the loss of their sanity, and their very lives.

The Tri-Towers once represented a delicate balance of illusion and devices, a place where the Ancient Gods first placed the Tomes of Foundation into a mound that became a great tower by men in the Enlightened Age. The southern and northern towers once represented the concentrated magic of the South, and the impressive and innovative industrial technology of the North. Written knowledge, and the application of this knowledge was vital to this city’s identity and was stored in the tallest and most ancient tower, the Tower of Insight. Only dedicated scholars, magickal bards, holy paladins and ethereal mages of the Realm were allowed access to study in the Tower of Insight. All through the Enlightened Age, cultures of the North and the South waged a cold and then hot war for control over the Realm. When this war reached its very peak, two twin-volcanoes thought to be inactive suddenly spewed molten lava and smoke. Mount Eden of the Northwest, and Mount Eve in the Southeast suddenly came to life once again, and covered the World in an ashen shroud that permanently concealed the Three Suns and the Moon.

The Ruins of Qraeto still sparkle, as the shattered stones and stained-glass ruins bend the light of the region’s aether into constantly changing neon hues that still make the city appear alive and active. Those that dare to amble through the Ash Crossroads have reported intense nightmares just before, during and months-after their journey through this region. To stay in this province for a mere fortnight is to go gradually mad, and then suffocate and perish beneath a visually stunning and toxic atmosphere. Over the millennia that defined the Age of Enlightenment, ten God-Kings and five God-Queens ruled the Realm, educated by great anthologies, technical manuscripts and magickal reference books of spells and incantations carefully stored and catalogued in the Tower of Insight. For when the Ancient Gods faded into irrelevance, and there were no longer any immortals to worship, humankind began to worship their own reflection. In that vanity and egocentricity, we were borne into current times, the Days of Ash.

The Remnants of Atma’Zae: The New and Once-Great Settlements of The World, After the Nemesis. Lore Entry # 2 (click here for art)

[zetto-protection-squad]

Fun conversation topic: What would be your peak SELF INDULGENT version of TOME?

I started thinking recently about how the RPG is a big outlier in the TOME franchise (is it accurate to call it a franchise?) because I feel to me personally that the "you die in the game you die in real life" elements were what really hooked me on to begin with. However, the RPG itself has some nice elements to it; the more in-depth game mechanics, RPG Flamegirl by herself, etc etc...

However, I'm never a "Fuck Canon" kind of fan; moreso a "I love this, but how would I make it better?" kind of fan.

Even so, I think it's important to understand the difference between if a piece of media does something poorly versus if a piece of media simply didn't do something you didn't enjoy. Such as, TTA Flamegirl is a poorly written female character, BUT me not enjoying RPG Alpha doesn't mean that he is inherently poorly written. Remember, there is inherently a huge difference between the creator's intention with their story, and what you as the audience PERSONALLY want from their story.

That being said, the questions stand:

What would be your peak SELF INDULGENT version of TOME? Which plotlines (TTA/2011/RPG) would you want to encapsulate the most? Which versions of each of the main 7 would you want to explore this plotline?

I've pitched this concept to my friends (Thank you for your support @d-buggers-org + @mechcity-skyline !), but some wanted to see this as a public prompt so here you go!

Remember, I'm writing all this from a place of love! I NEVER want to say "Fuck Canon"; I simply want to gush about my favorite elements from each TOME variant, and daydream about what will satiate my own self indulgence for a series that means a lot to me :]!

Under the cut would be my own personal "P.S.I." version of TOME (will refer to it as "my PSI-TOME for short throughout this essay); so get ready for TOME, [insert Mod Blue's real name] version!

Which plotlines (TTA/2011/RPG) would you want to encapsulate the most?

I'm going to immediately start out the gate with the controversies BUT...

TV TOME Adventures.

Like I said in my intro, it was TOME (2011 in particular)'s "you die in the game you die in real life" plotline that really hooked me onto the series!

However... something about the air of TTA alone is very different than 2011. I think it feels much darker, plotlines such as the forbidden season 4, Ericho's mind being trapped in the gang, Kirbopher1111's descent, Motherboard's corruption and the shadow clones??

Maybe it's because it's a longer series, or maybe, by my own account, "I am a dramatic bitch", I think I would love to see a lot of the TTA plotlines polished to be feasible for a more advanced series. They are the building blocks for the franchise, after all!

Overall I think it would be interesting to explore TTA by itself, and its full potential when working with its building blocks; cutting the fat where you could tell it was initially written by a random teenager and polishing the interesting concepts presented in TTA that aren't in 2011. I also think me wanting TTA's plotline in particular is an interesting conundrum when taking into account my other question...

Which versions of each of the main 7 would you want to explore this plotline?

Now, this one actually gets complicated!

I'm mostly going to yap about why I think they'd be a perfect pick for my PSI-TOME plotline, but @d-buggers-org actually brought up a great point about how you could choose between who you want for plotlines BUT steal another version's character design! So I'll mention whose design I'll steal in the midst of which plotline/character arc would be better as well.

So get ready for a ride...

ALPHA:

TTA Alpha.

While I do have a soft spot for 2011 for reasons I may get into later, I am and have always been ENAMOURED with TTA Alpha in particular. I'm not a huge fan of "shy character becomes more confident" plotlines (truthfully I don't even know if I can explain why), so TTA Alpha in particular sticks out better to me!

I think he comes across as a somewhat brash, almost arrogant person at the beginning of the series, but one who slowly gets worn down by the heaviness of the plot over time, until he presumably "gets his spark back" by season 4 (Chris mentioning one of season 4's final episodes being a fight between Alpha and the literal God Of The Internet to prove that Alpha is proof that the virtual world is protected by good hands). He comes across as cocky at certain moments, but in a fun way! He's also very captivating while angry, and even though Chris himself doesn't like the 3 hour infiltration mission... I rather enjoyed seeing Alpha in particular have to directly lead his friends into danger, him and Voltarius having a back and forth conflict of who has the upper hand over who.

I think overall, TTA Alpha feels like a real teenager to me. Maybe I feel like the shyer Alphas of 2011 and RPG come across as more trope-y to me than TTA? I may have even posted about how TTA Alpha reminds me of Sonic specifically in Sonic Frontiers, my favorite video game of all time... but either way, that's how I feel! TTA Alpha would be my pick for my PSI Alpha.

Also, I wouldn't be too mad at keeping TTA Alpha's designs as-is lol. Maybe just remove the lizard tail and also steal 2011 Alpha's season 1 outfit for him BUT keeping TTA Alpha's season 2 + 3 + 4 outfits :D

ALSO ALEJANDRO SAAB IN THE 20TH ANNIVERSARY EDITION OF TTA EPISODE 60 IS MY PERFECT VICTORY; I NEED ALEJANDRO SAAB IN MY PSI-TOME <3

FLAMEGIRL:

RPG Flamegirl. (SPOILERS FOR THE RPG INCOMING, FYI)

Now, I think I speak for a fair chunk of us will admit RPG Flamegirl is the best Flamegirl has been written. Heck, probably the first time Flamegirl didn't feel like "THE GIRL" of the group!

Now, I initially didn't like RPG Flamegirl in the demo; but with the context of her full character in the RPG? She singlehandedly fits SO PERFECTLY with the higher stakes I enjoy from each series... but I feel kind of bad she's stuck in the one TOME variant that doesn't have those sci-fi high stakes I fell in love with. She's one of those rare characters I see in media that I swear I'm gonna hate the entire time, only for their character arc to showcase the OPPOSITE. (FYI, those awards are also gifted to Ling Yao from FMA and Weiss Schnee from RWBY <3)

I love that she's still learning to be a leader of her guild. I love that she has blatant trust issues that make her friendships fall apart, and she learns to grow from it to make sure she's not in a constant cycle of platonic break-ups. I love her raw determination, and I love how she very much ISN'T perfect and struggles with that. (And also, she's Filipino and voiced by a Filipina actress! Filipino pride :D)

If I'm particularly stealing the elements of TTA, I think you can easily interweave RPG Flamegirl into that sort of plotline. Maybe her sister was impacted by the virus at some point? I think RPG Flamegirl in particular ABSOLUTELY has the will and strength to take down the hacker organizations; She obviously does the same even if the hackers aren't directly harming people physically through the game.

As for design?

...

To be honest, 2011 Flamegirl with RPG Flamey's personality would be god tier. I love the demon aesthetic she has, and it's a little less busy on the eyes than RPG Flamey's outfit.

NYLOCKE:

...

...I could go both ways! (Both 2011 and RPG Nylocke.)

Now, I would like to elaborate that I'm not the biggest Nylocke fan, so I'm very much not the person to ask when it comes to which Nylocke is better, or go onto rambles on each version of Nylockes' character arcs.

But I don't hate him! I've been in the fandom for 10 years at this point, and growing into adulthood I really appreciate who Nylocke is as a character. He is really the heart that holds the group together, and really makes everything feel okay when he's at his best. I'm not sure if you could argue he has this big massive character arc, but my point is that you don't NEED him to change so massively because he's everyone's rock in the face of adversary.

Truthfully, not being a Nylocke stan, I personally don't see much difference between 2011 and RPG Nylocke outside of the circumstances they're in; that's exactly why I could go with both of them in my PSI-TOME. I think, like I said, being a steady rock in the face of adversary would be EXACTLY what my PSI-TOME would need, being reminiscent of TTA's darker elements.

As for design however, RPG Nylocke 100%! I think his silhouette cements the "big support" character he needs to be, his palette is more pleasing to the eye, and his cape's back!

KIRB/ZETTO:

...I'd like to hope y'all remember what my blog is about because it is ABSOLUTELY going to be...

2011 Kirbopher/Zetto.

What else can I say? I love him. He's an integral part of my childhood, my adulthood, my writing, my personality, my interests??

I've mentioned before that TTA Zetto is sort of the "common ancestor" for what would evolve into two separate paths; 2011 Zetto, and RPG Zetto. I think where TTA Zetto falters is Chris attempting to have both cakes; the Vegeta redemption arc, and the ever-intimidating adversary. RPG Zetto is a perfected version of the latter; I'm scared of him, to be honest. He's an asshole with no redeeming qualities whatsoever. I would say I'd punch RPG Zetto if I saw him in the streets, but he'd probably doxx me on his Reddit account.

2011 Zetto is a perfected version of Vegeta. PERIOD.

His dual identity made TOME (2011) SO SO captivating. He alone raises the stakes, directly links the main group into the main conflict (but even spicier, AGAINST HIS WILL!). I'm in love with all of his issues and he's personally the most relatable person in the entire cast.

EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM IS SO CAPTIVATING! My favorite episode of TOME (2011) is Episode 10, because it's the first time we see Zetto's mask crack and he starts showing emotional vulnerability!

His dual identity with Kirbopher also helps "declutter" the main cast a bit more, and gives Kirbopher himself a lot more meat to his character! TTA Kirbopher15 is fine, but kind of works like the Joey Wheeler to Alpha's Yugi; but more people remember Kaiba and Yugi than Joey and Yugi. RPG Kirbopher works well without the higher stakes of TTA as just Alpha's friend.

However, with my PSI-TOME having TTA plotlines specifically BECAUSE I love drama and darker plots...

It'd be a crime to say 2011 Kirb/Zetto WOULDN'T be my pick for my own PSI-TOME!

2011 Kirb/Zetto is just SO STELLAR of a character that he just HAS to be there for my PSI-TOME.

(Heck, he was my awakening for loving the SHIT out of characters with dual identity issues.... lots of my dual-identity faves come from obscure webcomics BUT I literally just finished reading Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde because it's THE "dual identity conflict" novella of all time so uh... yeah 2011 Zetto flows through my veins at this point)

As for design...

No, yeah. I'm keeping 2011 Zetto as-is; obviously TTA Zetto just has a sleeveless version of Vegeta's armor, and RPG Zetto captures the "big douchebag" energy so well that I don't think I'd want him NEAR 2011 Zetto. I'd jokingly say perhaps I'd steal RPG Zetto's hair, though... I've always struggled with drawing 2011 Zetto's hair 😭😭

RPG Zetto's scarf and tattoo is kinda cute tho. Something to consider, maybe.

Kirbopher himself is funnily enough a different story. Personally, 2011 season 2 Kirb is my favorite of all the Kirbs! But I also like RPG Kirb's design over 2011 season 1 Kirbopher too... Also something to consider!

NOW...

GAMECRAZED:

Truthfully? All of them, in one big mega-Gamecrazed.

Much like Nylocke I don't think I have MEGA huge opinions on GC as a character, but in terms of plotline? All of them could work in my PSI-TOME; I think there's elements behind each one of them that could work/could be fun exploring as one giant mega-GC!

I'll just get this out of the way that I could also go for either 3 of their designs; I'm not too strong on one over the other, since I think it's fair to say their silhouettes are generally the same (well I used a pic of TTA's Redemption but still)

That being said, onto plotline:

1.) I love TTA Gamecrazed starting off as just a normal teen coping with his parents' divorce with his little brother, only to be sort of "awoken" by virus power and singlehandedly being able to talk down Motherboard from her own corruption.

2.) I love 2011 Gamecrazed secretly being an AI built to stop hackers by the game's main AI, only to learn about what love is through befriending the main cast.

3.) Gamesoft is just a cutie pie... I love that the RPG was willing to tackle her being trans, and I love that the concept of GC with a little brother was brought back! Truthfully out of all "shy" characters, I definitely prefer her as a more introverted/softspoken person over 2011/RPG Alpha's shyness.

So here's what I've been thinking:

Maybe PSI-TOME GC starts off as a normal teen, perhaps also coping with their parents' divorce but overall having a generally normal human life with a little brother outside of the game

At some point PSI-TOME GC gets involved with the development of a hot new video game, but virus stuff happens and they're now somehow interwoven into the game, maybe their mind is trapped or they are now "transformed" by something within the game that makes them technically no longer human

Motherboard uses GC, whether they be a shell left behind by some fatal accident within the game/Motherboard fusing with GC's mind after a traumatic accident, as a shadow, and learns about love through her experiences as GC + their little brother

Somehow this is a trans allegory

Like, it is 4am. But also imagine...

Food for thought once again. I'm just daydreaming, at the end of the day! But I truthfully believe there is something to be done by using elements from ALL versions of GC to make one big mega-GC to be within my own PSI-TOME.

That being said, I do prefer Motherboard by design instead of SOFDTI (or the RPG's 'Prisoner', especially because Prisoner in particular leads nowhere without the context of an RPG DLC or sequel)

I think "2011 Motherboard" concept art is just gorgeous; especially that top right doodle showing exactly how GC is her shadow. I do prefer humanoid designs hence my neutrality towards SOFDTI's squishy fairy design, but also I am also very much a women enjoyer ♥🧡💛💚💙💜

RURI/KIZUNA/TIGERLILY:

...

Kizuna over Ruri, but I could go both ways perhaps...

No shade to Tigerlily stans! But hear me out...

I think overall for my PSI-TOME, Kizuna is the better choice. Obviously she's made MUCH more important to the plot and conflict in 2011 than Ruri is in TTA; and she's such a girlboss as well. I think her Riza Hawkeye dynamic with Zetto is beautifully done, especially with the A2Z movies giving her a much more hopeful ending and wrapping up their relationship in a neat little bow. She's such a professional in her hacking, and she is a formidable antagonist within TOME (2011); she also has my favorite voice of the franchise! Imogen Fox if you're out there... your performance as Kizuna has been a gay awakening to a LOT of people.

But, after seeing @artlasllm's "Ruri is a Twitch Streamer AU"... I think Ruri also has something to her character to explore as well. I think she's an interesting addition to TTA that would've been quite compelling if explored more; is she the "things IRL I should be taking care of" that TTA Zetto talks about in episode 60? If they've been dating long before Zetto's redemption arc, why hasn't Ruri seen Zetto in a while when they meet back up in-GAME in season 3? Zetto himself rarely talks about her in comparison to Ruri talking about him, she's such a ride-or-die gf that I'm wondering how far Zetto has really pushed that mentality within her. Maybe perhaps she is directly abandoned by Zetto; Zetto fading into obscurity as a prodigous teenage game developer, and Ruri becoming popular only for being a let's player.

I think both are very valid catgirls to explore more within my PSI-TOME; I think I prefer Kizuna for direct plot reasons, but I think I wouldn't be mad at exploring what could be done with Ruri as a character.

That being said, on a funnier note: I've been told you can probably have both of them, since they're so different from one another LMAOO. Some highlights from a brief conversation with @d-buggers-org about including both or maybe ALL of the catgirls include:

Ruri/Zetto/Kizuna polycule at Netking Software's development team (Zetto and Ruri as both beta testers, Kizuna still as head bug checker)

Throwing Tigerlily in the mix with Ruri, Kizuna, and Tigerlily within the plot as a former clique of high school friends, perhaps maybe quite Heathers-esque XD (FYI Kizuna would be Chandler, Tigerlily would be Duke, Ruri would be McNamara)

Kizuna could and would doxx Ruri, from a professional hacker to a simple streamer 😭😭 on the reverse side, Tigerlily would look Kizuna dead in the eye and take selfies with whatever creep shows up at her house after getting doxxed by her

So yeah. Kizuna is a little complicated of a topic for my PSI-TOME, because you could argue that the differences between all of them mean that you could probably have multiple of them within anyone's PSI-TOME as different characters!

I think for simplicity's sake I would say that I do prefer Kizuna to Ruri in regards to who I would choose for my PSI-TOME, but if I were able to juggle both Kizuna AND Ruri in my PSI-TOME, especially with Kizuna as a professional hacker and Ruri as successful gaming streamer? I think I would love to explore both of them.

MISC:

So what else could I say about MY PSI-TOME?

Well, first off, a lightning round of Netking Opinions:

I would choose (MOSTLY) all of the 2011 Netkings over them all, with a few changes and exceptions; I think at the very least, Webmaster, Bitshrum, and Kindarspirit are the best in 2011 continuity, with Rubirules in 2011 being my favorite Rubyrulz/Rubirules/Rulerruby design

I'm not sure whether Rubirules or EXE would work as the true Hacker Boss in my own PSI-TOME, because I was fine with either of them when comparing TTA and TOME (2011)! So simply, I could go both ways!

However, I love Queen Rulerruby... regardless of if I'd pick Rubirules to be my PSI-TOME hacker boss, I absolutely want him genderbended to be the lovely Linda Young-voiced gemstone queen that Queen Rulerruby in the RPG is. God, that'd give off such wonderful Yzma vibes 8) <3

Regardless of EXE/Execk being my PSI-TOME hacker boss, I think I'd at least choose TTA/RPG designs over 2011. I think he looks a little plain and normal in 2011, so I'd def try to pick TTA or RPG's EXE/Execks for a liiiittle more oomph :D

NOW, MORE RANDOM PLOT LINES!

Seeing RPG Flamegirl having to deal with the fallout of 2011 Kirb/Zetto's reveal... I think she would NOT hold back in regards to holding him accountable for his actions. Honestly with the context of them being in the TTA plotline, maybe there's more time to explore the fallout of Zetto's dual identity within my PSI-TOME's Purple Flame Arc

Yoinking the 2011 Design for the D-Bug Dragon, but TTA Kajet for the yellow streaks in his design

Not particularly sure if D-Bug Dragon is a virus like in TTA, or an antivirus like in TOME; the general concept of the flame going haywire and making someone comatose would be the same, however. I do definitely think that in my PSI-TOME, perhaps it was built by the hackers, or at the very least Kizuna unfortunately roped into working on it with Darkeyes...

Obviously 2011 Zetto doesn't have the same genuine bloodlust that motivated TTA Zetto to start the hacker organization; I truthfully believe he does the things he does out of paranoia of him but more importantly other people getting hurt by the virus, which I think would motivate Zetto into starting the hacker organization with Kizuna

Oooh, when Archy/Ericho get trapped in the game... I think it'd be spicy to keep 2011 Rockoon as part of my PSI-TOME, a former hacker now desperate to avenge his innocent friend, alongside the horror of the main cast finding out that he's trapped as an AI within the game...

Elaborating more on the "Ruri/Zetto/Kizuna polycule" pitch... I imagine that Ruri and Kizuna act as shoulder angels on Zetto's shoulders; Ruri representing a normal carefree life, but Zetto abandoning it to run the hacker organization with Kizuna... where Kizuna herself has issues surrounding the morality of the hacker organization that she has to deal with (AND I WANT THEM TO END HAPPILY <3)

There is the potential question of asking if Kirbopher still "dies" within my PSI-TOME, since Kirbopher's "death" is a huge symbolic metaphor for Kirb/Zetto as a character... 🤔

This entire PSI-TOME concept is under the assumption that season 4 would be a thing.......... because my PSI-TOME absolutely has Xirra and Darkeyes 🥺🙏

Heck even outside of my PSI-TOME concept, Kizuna and Darkeyes feel like they have parallels in regards to their shared hatred towards technology, their involvement in building the D-Bug Dragon... perhaps in my PSI-TOME, Darkeyes would be a dark reflection of what Kizuna almost becomes...

Would it be easier to say that this entire post is probably just fanfic fuel and I've accidentally written a fanfic the entire time I've written this section of my post, and I only now realize that at the end of this entire essay at 4 in the morning? Maybe. But I don't write fanfic so ig these are the best crumbs I'm gonna get 😭😭

Legit, if you've read this far, thank you so very much for indulging me in my little daydream! This entire post is open to more conversations about what YOUR personal PSI-TOME would be, and I'm hoping that my little yap-athon here is inspiration for you all to play around with! I would love to hear what your personal PSI-TOMEs would be!

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

Regally Smitten

chapter 1: the meeting

chapter word count: ~4.5k

synopsis: A future king and his servant are bound by their forbidden love. With the odds stacked against them, and a jealous brother out for blood, will their love prevail? Or will history repeat itself?

warnings: homophobia (specifically religious homophobia, this is a period piece so these beliefs are a reflection of the time period being portrayed, and the characters themselves, and do not reflect my personal beliefs. please read with caution and remember to take care of yourself. ily.) descriptions of violence, main character injury (no main character death), foul language, suggestive themes, brief mentions of anxiety, depression, and panic attacks. one mention of suicidal thoughts (but no action)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and in no way represents any member of stray kids in reality. this is a fanfiction and should be treated as such. this is not me “shipping” them, these are simply characters based on real life people. i don’t need the minsung antis coming for me.

authors note: here it is! i’m like sick to my stomach with worry about posting this. i’ve seriously been working on it for so long i can’t believe it’s finally time to post the first chapter. <3 i really hope everyone likes it. also, happy hannie day! <33

series masterlist • main masterlist

With his superior by his side, Han knocked gently on the wooden door.

"Come in!" a voice shouted from inside. Han's superior swung the door open carefully and they both stepped inside. The room was extravagant, just as Han had expected it would be. It was one of the largest rooms in the castle that he had ever been in, only behind the great hall and the throne room. The room was grey stone, much like the rest of the castle. There was a large desk to one side, piled with tomes and scrolls of parchment tied with crimson ribbons. Behind the desk was a large open air doorway that led onto a balcony overlooking the kingdom. From this tower, Han thought you could probably see all the way to the green rock isles.

A small breeze blew in from that balcony, rustling the sheer curtains in the wind. The same silky curtains draped around a massive four post bed in the center of the room. And that is where Han saw him for the first time. Well, not the first time really. This was the prince after all, and Han was a servant in his castle. Of course Han had seen the prince before, but never this close. Having been stationed in the kitchens before, Han had never been this close to the royal. Not ever close enough to notice how soft his hair looked, his chiseled nose and jaw, the way his arms and chest filled his shirt so nicely. Never been close enough to see the muscles flex under the expensive fabric as the prince bent over to pull on his boots.

"Your Grace." Han's superior said with a small bow. Han also nervously bowed. "Your Grace.." he squeaked.

The prince stood, fastening his sword at his side as he approached. He was even more handsome the closer that he got. From this closer distance, Han could see the chocolatey brown color of his eyes, the small freckle on the side of his nose, the down turned pout of his full lips.

"Your Grace, this is you new squire." Han's superior said. He nudged Han on the shoulder, pulling him out of his study of the princely face. "Introduce yourself, boy."

Han bowed again. "I am Han, if it pleases you, Your Grace."

The prince studied his new squire. And his first thought was that he was rather.. cute. The prince was used to people being flustered in front of him, but somehow when Han did it, it was less annoying and more.. charming. Prince Minho cleared his throat. "Right. Thank you ser, you may go now." Han's superior bowed again before turning on his heel and exiting the room. Suddenly, being alone with the prince, the room no longer felt like one of the biggest rooms in the castle. The room felt like it was closing in around him now, like it was slowly suffocating him. Or maybe, Han thought, it was just that the prince took his breath away. But he must not let himself think these thoughts. He must focus on his job and nothing more. That's what he told himself but it was easier said than done. Rather, it was easier thought than done.

The prince took a step closer. He placed his fingers under Han's chin and angled it up to look at him.

"Han, you said?" he asked, turning Han's face to the left and then to the right, examining. His voice was assertive, very princely in its own way. But Han didn't feel intimidated, not even in the slightest. In fact, he was feeling flustered. Like giant dragons were flying in his belly and shooting their fire up his throat.

"Ye-yes, Your Grace." he muttered out, stumbling over his words.

The prince released his grip on Han's face. "Tell me.. are you nervous, Han?" he asked, his lips turning up on one side, teasing.

"A little bit, Your Grace." Han laughed nervously as he struggled to look at the prince, deciding instead to look at his boots. "I just want to do my best as your squire."

The prince chuckled. "Look at me, Han."

Han forced his eyes up to meet the prince's. And for a moment, it was like everything stood still. The birds outside no longer chirped, the rise and fall of their breath no longer came and both the men's hearts, skipped a beat for just a brief moment. And the moment, however brief it may be in reality, felt like an entire summer to Han and Minho. An entire sweltering hot summer where they both thought their bodies may burn up entirely.

"I think you will make a fine squire." The prince said with a smile. This made Han's cheeks go pink and prince Minho had the thought that he rather liked that and would like to spend the rest of his life making those cheeks blush. Would do anything to make Han feel bashful just so he could see his adorable face fill with color. But then the prince caught himself in those thoughts and quickly brushed them off. This was their first time meeting, and even if it wasn't, it would never work. He knew that. He knew what happened last time and chided himself for the thoughts he had about his new squire.

"Come along, father waits." Minho ordered, curtly. And Han followed his prince down the long cold hallway to the throne room, trying his very hardest to not stare at the princely rear.

----

The throne room really was the largest room in the castle. This is where all of the banquets, and balls, and weddings happened. The room was absolutely massive. Large marble pillars lined the room, carvings of the gods adorned the pillars, and the ceiling was painted like the night sky, constellations outlined in gold foil. On the farthest end of the room was the dais, and atop that was the throne. The throne was golden and beautiful and intricately carved with more likeness of the gods and foliage. It was of considerable size, fit only for a king. Behind the throne were floor to ceiling stained glass windows that depicted the story of the Lee Dynasty. The sunlight shined through them now, casting beautiful pink and yellow and green light onto the floor. Han's eyes fell to the colors decorating the stones, moving the toe of his slipper in and out of the colored light.

The prince's boots confidently tapped on the floor as he walked with purpose across the cavernous room. Han shuffled a step behind him, honestly struggling to keep up. The other servants in the room would stop their task and bow as they passed. Mumbling here and there a 'your grace', 'my prince', and other phrases of the like.

"Finally! There's my boy!" a deep voice bellowed from the dais. Sitting on the throne was King Heinrich. And next to him on a smaller, but still intricate chair, was Queen Charlotte, and to her right was prince Rian, Minho's younger bother. Heinrich was a large, fat man, who looked as if he had never struggled for anything in his life. And han knew that to be the case, as he was born into royalty. His father was king and his father before that and so on. His face, though old, had few wrinkles, having access to the best products in the entire kingdom and without worry to mar his face with lines. Han thought that the king would show more signs of age, having to hold the entire kingdom on his back, but Han soon learned that the king did little when it came to decision making for the realm. The council made most of the decisions, though Han guessed the king got the final say. He was just a 'glorified old fart'. At least that's what Han's best friend, Hyunjin, had said. Though Han would never dare repeat those words out loud. The king was known to be a very stern man. Almost bratty and spoiled in the way that if things do not go the way he has planned, or if something upsets him greatly, blood will most likely be shed. So Han had done his best to steer clear of the king as often as he could. And that's exactly what he did in this moment. He stayed put as Minho climbed the steps of the dais, offering the customary bow to both the king and queen.

"Hello father." Minho said. "Mother." He placed a kiss on the queens cheek. Queen Charlotte, in stark contrast to her husband, was a beautiful and kind woman. She did her best to keep Heinrich from causing too much trouble, though she knew her place. She was smart, and knew when to keep quiet and let things happen, no matter how awful those things might be.

"Sit boy, sit." Heinrich ordered. Minho took his place in an empty chair next to his mothers.

"What is it father?" Minho asked. "You wanted to see me?"

"Just to inform you that tomorrow we leave for Westwood. We go to visit Lord Alexander and Lady Ere. We leave at first light."

"As you wish, father. I will cancel my plans to join the hunting party then?"

"Yes." the king grumbled. "This is much more important. We go for political reasons."

"Of course father."

"Have you been assigned a new squire?" Rian asks. "I was glad to see that other one go. You were much to close to him, Minho." Rian had a lilt to his voice that suggested this was a jab at his brother, like there existed some underlying context that Han was unaware of.

Rian was taller than Minho, but not nearly as built. Han was sure that Minho could easily overpower his brother should he need to. But that didn’t deter Rian from speaking his mind and stirring up all kinds of trouble for his brother. Rian was always jealous that he wasn’t the first born, and therefore was not the direct heir to the throne. Minho always had the thought in the back of his mind to make sure to keep an eye on his brother. He did not put it past him to do something heinous for his shot at being king.

The current king agreed. "A squire is not your friend, he is your servant. Understood, boy?"

Rian chuckled behind Minho.

"Yes father, I know. I will not make the same mistake again." Minho's voice sounded small and pained, like this conversation brought up a terrible traumatic memory. It sounded completely different from the confident, teasing voice Han heard just moments ago in the prince's chamber.

"That will be all then." The king dismisses. "We will see you at first light."

Minho stood and exited the throne room. Han gave a quick bow to the king and queen and scurried after his prince.

The prince's mood had noticeably shifted. Gone was the smiling, almost playful boy from before. The negative feelings radiated off of him in waves.

"Your Grace," Han started. Minho grunted in response, a signal to continue. "If i may ask, what happened to your previous squire?"

They had found their way back to the prince's chambers, the door swinging shut behind Han with a bang, causing the boy to jump with fright.

Minho headed for his changing room, unbuckling his sword sheathe along the way, letting it clatter to the floor.

Noticing the rather long response time, Han tried to backpedal. "Forgive me, I should not question you." Han said meekly, scrambling to pick up the weapon, brushing off any dirt before gently placing it on the desk.

"He was beheaded, if you must know." Minho said, shortly, anger lacing his tone.

Han was shocked. He hadn't known that the former squire had been executed. Han wondered what he could have done to deserve such a punishment. Maybe he accidentally stepped on the kings new cloak. But Han could tell this was a touchy subject that the prince probably didn't want to talk about, so he dropped it.

"I wish to sleep." the prince said, exiting his changing room. His overshirt had been shed, leaving him in his flowy white undershirt, his pectorals peeking out from the top. His trousers had been unfastened and hung loosely on his hips. Han's mouth went dry, his eyes wide.

"Squire, are you deaf?" Minho snapped. "I said, I wish to sleep. Get out." He ordered.

"Yes, Your Grace." Han quickly said. He bowed and exited the room, closing the door gently behind him. Han pondered about the prince's mood change as he headed back to his quarters to get some sleep of his own. And to ask Hyunjin about this beheading.

And prince Mihno thought about how guilty he felt for the way he just treated his new squire, but it was nothing compared to the guilt he feels from the former. What happened with him must not happen with Han. It can't. It won't. Minho wont let it.

The prince crawled in between the sheets, hugging his pillow tight as he remembers the way that the old squire's lips felt against his own and then remembering the thump the squire's head had made as it hit the cobblestones.

----

Returning to his quarters in the basement, Han opened the door and carefully toed off his slippers. His roommate, and best friend, Hyunjin was sat on his cot, doodling on a spare piece of parchment. Probably another portrait of Lady Eliza. Hyunjin was infatuated with her, and had drawn her likeness on every spare piece of paper he could find, and in every style he could think of. This one was Lady Eliza as a... cactus?

"How goes it?" Hyunjin asked. "How was your first day as squire? Do you hate him yet?"

Han paused. No, he did not hate the prince. Didn't think he ever could. How could you ever hate someone so handsome? Someone who showed such playfulness and kindness? Though he did get a little snippy at the end. But he's a prince. He's allowed to be snippy.

"Hello?" Hyunjin prodded. "Don't ignore me, you know it makes me spiral into thinking that you hate my company."

Han rolled his eyes. "Don't be dramatic."

"That's like telling a cat not to lick its ass." Hyunjin said. "You know how I am."

Indeed, Han did know how he was. Hyunjin definitely had a flare for the dramatics. One time, Lady Eliza sneezed in his direction and by the time dinner was over, he had convinced himself that she had done it on purpose to show him how much she secretly loved him. He tried to go to her chambers that night, to tell her that he had picked up on her message. But luckily Han was able to talk him out of it.

"So, answer my question. How were the princely duties?" Hyunjin was now scribbling some hair on cactus Eliza.

"It was.. fine." Han pulled his smock over his head and folded it neatly on his bedside table.

"Just fine?" Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. "What're you hiding?"

Han reclined on his own cot, the feeling of relief flooding through him, finally being off his feet. "I'm not hiding anything."

"Bullshit." Hyunjin put down Eliza's portrait and pointed at Han. "No secrets. Isn't that the oath we took when we decided we were brothers?"

"Oh come on." Han argued. "I think this hardly counts as a time for the oath."

"Because you're definitely hiding something!" Hyunjin flailed his arms around as he spoke. "I can't believe this is the way you've decided to ruin our friendship. Our brotherhood." He dramatically threw himself back down on his cot.

"Fine! Fine." Han gave in. Hyunjin sat up straight, leaning in, not wanting to miss a thing. "I just happen to think the prince is kind of.. cute."

Hyunjin was silent, his face blank. Han couldn't remember a time when Hyunjin was this silent.

"Well? Say something." Han said.

"You have a crush on Prince Minho?" Hyunjin asked, flatly.

Han shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

"This is not good." Hyunjin ran his fingers through his hair. "You cant have a crush on Minho. Hes' a prince." Hyunjin pointed out.

"Yeah and it's soo different from you having a crush on Lady Eliza? Her family owns the entirety of the wheat fields. She's way above your class."

Hyunjin looked taken aback. He brought his hand to his heart. Clutched his imaginary pearls. "Eliza and I are in love. And you know that." He glared at Han for even daring to bring his beloved into this. "Don't you think its dangerous to develop feelings for someone as high up as the prince?"

"Yeah, maybe." Han agreed. "It's nothing serious though. Today was the first time I've ever even spoken to him. I'm just being delusional."

"Let's just make sure it doesn't get too out of hand. Okay?" Hyunjin looked at Han, almost with a sad expression. As if Hyunjin knew the hurt that Han felt from being alone. But they were both alone. And Han found comfort in that. They were alone together.

"The prince did mention something that I wanted to ask you about."

Hyunjin looked intrigued again. Always eager for the latest bit of gossip. "Relax." Han held his hand out toward Hyunjin. "It's nothing like that. No royal secrets." Hyunjin pouted. "He mentioned something about his old squire. And when i asked what happened to him, Minho told me he was beheaded. He seemed really touchy about the subject. Basically kicked me out of his chambers after that."

"Really?" Hyunjin looked puzzled. "We never get to know anything down here in the fuckin depths of the castle. We need to learn to speak rat. I bet they have all the tea."

Han let out a hmm. "So you don't know anything about it? I figured if anyone would know it would be you."

"No I have no idea. How can someone have their head literally chopped off and no one knows about it?"

"That's the power of the crown, I guess." Han said, lost in thought about the former squire.

"What do you suppose they did with the head afterwards?" Hyunjin asked.

Han laughed and made an exaggerated fake gag before telling Hyunjin to go to sleep. Han rolled over and faced the wall, closing his eyes and drifting off to the memory of a single freckle, and chocolate.

----

In the morning, Han reported to Minho's quarters about an hour before the sun came up. He knocked gently on the thick wooden door. "Your Grace?"

"You may enter, Han." He heard Minho's voice from the other side, thick with sleep.

Han pushed open the door to find Minho still in bed. The cover tossed off of him in the night, his bare chest with a sheen of sweat from the humid summer night air, his hair a matted mess on his head.

"Good morning, Your Grace." Han bowed, doing his best to hide the affection he felt for the man in front of him. Seeing him like this definitely didn't help with the crush that Han was supposed to be ignoring. "You should probably bathe, Your Grace. We leave for Westwood soon."

"Are you saying I smell, squire?" Minho grumbled, pulling himself up and throwing his legs over the side of the bed.

Han's stomach dropped into his pants. "No! Not at all Your Grace. I just thought you might feel refreshed if you had a quick bath. Allow me to fill the tub for you." Han rushed across the room to the door of the changing room, tripping over his feet along the way but catching himself without falling.

Minho laughed. "Relax. I was only joking."

Han looked at the prince. He had that crooked smile on his face, his cheeks flushed with sleep, his messy hair falling into his eyes. He reached up with a chiseled arm to push it out of the way. The muscles in his chest flexing with the motion. The prince noticed Han's gaze on his chest and it filled him with a sense of pride. He liked it when Han looked at him a little too long. It pleased him to know that Han found him attractive. At least, he thought he did. The way his eyes linger, and his breath catches. Minho knows that feeling all too well. He had the same feeling watching Han walk through the door just a few moments ago.

Minho cleared his throat, trying to rid his mind of the thoughts of what Han's bare chest may look like. "A bath sounds nice, Han. If you don't mind."

"Of course, Your Grace." And with that, Han shuffled into the changing room to begin filling the tub. Minho knew there wasn't time to heat the water. There was no time to build a fire and wait for the water to warm. He could only hope the summer heat had warmed the water as much as it had warmed his skin in the night. Bucket by bucket, Han went back and forth from the barrel in the corner, to the large metal tub in the center of the room. Luckily the maids had filled the barrel only the day prior, so it was full of water. As the tub neared half way, Minho began to remove his trousers. The prince had his back to Han, so as the squire walked from barrel to tub, he had the opportunity to stare. To downright gawk at the male specimen in front of him. Prince Minho stood there, nude, kicking his trousers to the side. Han took special notice of his round, perfect butt. A prince's butt, Han thought. And what a glorious butt it was. The prince also had very muscular thighs. Han wondered what it would feel like to sit on those thighs, to straddle those thighs. He quickly returned to the barrel for more water, desperately trying to get rid of the growing problem in his pants.

Han returned to the tub once more only to see Minho lift his leg to step into the basin, and Han caught a glimpse of what lie in between those beautiful thighs.

Suddenly the floor was covered in water, the wooden bucket clattered to the floor, rolling its way across the stones and banging against the chamber pot. Han scrambled for the bucket as Minho made himself comfortable in the room temperature water. "Are you alright, Han?" Minho asked. The prince knew exactly what had happened, and it pleased him greatly.

Han cleared his throat, unsure of his ability to speak. Unable to get the image of Minho's princely package out of his brain. "Uh- ye-yes, Your Grace. I just- uh- tripped."

"Well do be more careful. We have a long journey ahead of us."

"Of course, Your Grace. I apologize." Han returned to the barrel for more water. He approached the tub, as Minho splashed the water along his body, wetting his tangled hair.

"That's enough water, Han. Thank You. Would you mind brushing through my hair? The brush is on the table just there." The prince pointed to a narrow wooden table along the wall.

Han traded the bucket for the brush and cautiously walked back to the tub. He took his place behind Minho, who had his head hanging over the side, his neck resting on the rim. Han nervously fidgeted with the bristles of the brush, unsure of how to proceed. He had never brushed a prince's hair before. But he assumed it was the same way as he brushed his own.

Han carefully ran the brush through the long brown locks of hair, slowly de-tangling as he went. The prince closed his eyes, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. Han noticed that sigh. Wondered what it would take to get the prince to make that noise again. Han would do anything to hear that noise again.

"Han, I wanted to apologize to you." Minho said, suddenly.

"There's nothing to apologize for, Your Grace." Han pulled the brush through the hair, most of the tangles gone now.

"Oh but there is." Minho said. "I treated you poorly yesterday evening and I regret it. I should not speak to you in such a way. You may be my squire but you are still a person." Minho sat up now and opened his eyes. He turned to face Han, who was startled and still holding the brush in the air. "Please accept my apology. It will not happen again."

"Uh- of course, Your Grace. I was not offended. Apology accepted. You are very kind." Han bowed slightly.

Minho smiled. "You can cut it out with the your grace stuff. Unless we are in front of others of course, especially my father. But when it's just you and I, you may call me Minho."

Han was extra stunned. First an apology and now he's being asked to drop the titles? Was this a test?

"I appreciate that, Your Grace. But I could not. It is much too informal." Han felt that was a safe answer. He should continue to use the official titles. He was just a lowly servant talking to a prince.

"I insist, Han. Please. Call me Minho. 'Your grace' makes me feel old and like I have a lot of responsibilities." Minho rubbed the soap up and down his arms, circling his chest, the bubbles sliding down his toned abdomen until they hit the water, forming a barrier on the surface, blocking the view of what Han wanted to see most.

"But don't you indeed have a lot of responsibilities?" Han asked, tearing his eyes away from the bubbly surface.

Minho smirked. "I suppose I do."

"We should probably get going, Your Grace. The sun will be up soon and your father will be waiting." Han bowed and left the room to fetch the prince some fresh clothes. Once out of the line of princely sight, he let out a deep sigh. How was he going to do this? Han didn't think he was strong enough for the task of being squire to such a man.

Once alone in the changing room, Minho let out a similar sigh. His stomach was in knots at what his heart was screaming at him. He knew he was playing with fire. He knew he should stop. Han should call him by his official title. Han should not be so close as to brush his hair, he should not purposefully show Han his cock. But he couldn't help it. Han was just so cute.

♡ pls reblog if you liked it! it truly helps a lot and makes me smile :) ♡

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

[thelorehold]

The Silent Citadel

Introduction

Title: The Silent Citadel

Setting: The adventure takes place in the shadowy and foreboding region of Duskmire Vale, a land plagued by strange disappearances and eerie silences. At the heart of this desolate landscape stands the Silent Citadel, an ancient fortress that was once the seat of a powerful mage but has long been abandoned—until now. Recently, villagers from the nearby towns have been vanishing, their last known destination being the Citadel.

Purpose: This adventure is designed to evoke the suspense and tension of a thriller, filled with unsettling mysteries, creeping dread, and a final confrontation with a malevolent force. The party’s goal is to investigate the source of the disappearances, uncover the dark secrets of the Citadel, and put an end to the terror haunting Duskmire Vale.

Game Master Notes

Adventure Type: Investigation and Horror, with elements of exploration, puzzle-solving, and a final confrontation with a supernatural villain.

Creatures: Shadow Hounds, Possessed Statues, Wraiths, The Veiled One (final villain).

Quest Hooks

Missing Persons: The party is approached by Elara Winterborn, a desperate woman whose sister is among those who have vanished near the Silent Citadel. She pleads with the party to find her sister and end the terror in Duskmire Vale.

The King’s Mandate: The party is summoned by Lord Reginald Greyhawk, the ruler of Duskmire Vale, who tasks them with investigating the Citadel and stopping the mysterious force that threatens his lands. He offers a substantial reward for the party’s success.

A Hunter’s Last Words: The party finds a dying ranger, Kieran Duskwood, who warns them of a dark presence within the Citadel. He gives them a bloodstained journal filled with cryptic notes about the horrors he witnessed before succumbing to his wounds.

Rumors:

"They say the Silent Citadel wasn’t abandoned; its inhabitants were consumed by something that now lurks within."

"The mists around Duskmire Vale have grown thicker and colder; those who enter often don’t return."

"Strange lights have been seen flickering in the windows of the Citadel, like lanterns in the hands of the dead."

"The Veiled One was once a powerful mage who delved too deep into forbidden magic; now she haunts the Citadel, seeking to claim more souls."

"There’s a secret passage beneath the Citadel that leads to a forgotten crypt, where the key to ending the curse might lie."

Key Locations and Encounters

Location 1: The Forsaken Village

Description: The Forsaken Village is a once-thriving settlement on the outskirts of Duskmire Vale, now eerily deserted. Houses stand empty, doors creaking in the wind, and the only signs of life are the crows that perch ominously on rooftops. The village is the last known location of several missing villagers.

Explorations: The party must search the village for clues, piecing together what happened to the villagers. They discover unsettling signs of a struggle, cryptic symbols etched into the walls, and a series of eerie messages written in blood that hint at the horrors within the Citadel.

Encounter: As the party investigates, they are attacked by Shadow Hounds, twisted creatures that lurk in the darkness, drawn to fear and despair. The party must fend off these beasts while trying to avoid the traps hidden throughout the village.

Loot: The party finds a Locket of the Lost (a trinket that allows communication with spirits once per day) and a torn page from an ancient tome that describes a ritual to ward off evil.

Location 2: The Misted Marsh

Description: The Misted Marsh is a treacherous swamp that surrounds the Silent Citadel, filled with thick fog, twisted trees, and foul-smelling waters. The marsh is said to be haunted by the spirits of those who tried to flee the Citadel and were consumed by the cursed mists.

Explorations: The party must navigate the marsh, avoiding deadly quicksand, poisonous plants, and spectral apparitions that seek to lure them deeper into the fog. Along the way, they may find the remains of previous adventurers, their bodies twisted in agony, clutching clues to the Citadel’s secrets.

Encounter: The marsh is home to Possessed Statues, stone guardians animated by dark magic. These statues attack anyone who comes too close, their cold stone hands striking with terrifying force. The party must find a way to destroy or bypass these guardians to continue their journey.

Loot: The party uncovers an Ethereal Lantern (a magical lantern that reveals hidden paths and dispels illusions) and a map carved into a stone slab, showing the layout of the Citadel’s interior.

Location 3: The Silent Citadel

Description: The Silent Citadel looms over Duskmire Vale, its blackened towers piercing the sky like jagged teeth. The walls are covered in thick ivy, and the air is heavy with the scent of decay. Inside, the halls are eerily silent, with only the occasional whisper of wind through cracked windows. The Citadel is a labyrinth of twisting corridors, secret chambers, and ancient traps designed to ensnare the unwary.

Explorations: The party must explore the Citadel, solving puzzles to unlock its deepest secrets. They find evidence of the dark rituals performed by the Veiled One, including a sacrificial altar stained with ancient blood. They also discover the remnants of those who tried to escape the Citadel’s horrors, their spirits now bound to the place.

Encounter: The final battle is against The Veiled One, a powerful undead sorceress who was once the Citadel’s ruler. She has become something more sinister, a being of pure malice who feeds on fear and despair. The Veiled One can manipulate shadows, summon wraiths, and drain the life from her enemies. The party must use all their skills and the knowledge they’ve gained to defeat her and break the curse on the Citadel.

Loot: Defeating the Veiled One rewards the party with the Veil of Shadows (a cloak that grants invisibility and resistance to necrotic damage) and the Orb of the Silent Citadel (a powerful artifact that can banish undead and protect against curses).

Rewards:

Material Rewards: Locket of the Lost, Ethereal Lantern, Veil of Shadows, Orb of the Silent Citadel.

Non-Material Rewards: The party gains the title of Saviors of Duskmire Vale, and their deeds become the stuff of legend. They also receive the gratitude of Lord Greyhawk and the people of Duskmire Vale, who may offer further assistance in future adventures.

Conclusion

Outcome: If the party successfully defeats the Veiled One and lifts the curse from the Citadel, Duskmire Vale is restored to peace, and the missing villagers are avenged. The Citadel’s dark influence is banished, and the region slowly begins to recover from its nightmare. If the party fails, the Veiled One’s power grows, and Duskmire Vale becomes a place of terror, shunned by all who value their lives.

Success Conditions: The party successfully defeats the Veiled One, lifts the curse from the Citadel, and restores peace to Duskmire Vale.

Failure Conditions: The party is defeated by the Veiled One, the curse on the Citadel remains, and the region falls into deeper darkness.

Graphical Elements

Maps: Provide a map of Duskmire Vale, including the Forsaken Village, the Misted Marsh, and the Silent Citadel, with detailed maps of each key location.

NPC or Villain Images: Include illustrations of Elara Winterborn, Lord Reginald Greyhawk, Kieran Duskwood, and the Veiled One.

This adventure is designed to keep the party on the edge of their seats, with an atmosphere of tension and dread building up to a final, terrifying confrontation. The Silent Citadel is a place of dark secrets and hidden dangers, where every step forward brings the party closer to the heart of a nightmare.

[corvidcrybaby]

20 Author Questions

Shout-out to @the-frankenman-writes for the tag!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

4 - I actually only started publishing fics a little over a year ago and my main project has been a still-running longfic so I haven't been able to build up much of an archive thus far LOL.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

408,653. The longfic is a fucking TOME.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

At the moment, just Hellsing. I do intend to publish some Castlevania fanfiction soon, and I've got a couple of larger OC fics planned for Demon Slayer and My Hero Academia.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Guess I'm listing all my fics in order with an empty bottom slot, oopsie!

formulas fatal to the flesh - Alucard (Hellsing)/Transfemme Jewish Reader fic that also serves as the "pilot" for my OC longfic. I originally started writing this as a means of exploring my sexuality in the wake of HRT changing a lot of things about my desires whilst also issuing a love letter to my favorite series. Then everything got intense.

2. Interview With the Impaler - Alucard (Hellsing)/Transfemme Reader. This was me trying out some new ideas with how I write Alucard as well as just trying to contribute to the transfemme reader insert pool. It's really nice when you don't have to mentally change the genitals of the reader insert you're reading about to put yourself in their shoes and enjoy the fantasy, so I like providing more of it.

3. lesions of a different kind - Alucard Hellsing/Transfemme Jewish OC. My longfic, my baby, my first foray into long-form storytelling. She's choppy, she's unhinged, she's full of bigger ideas than I know what to do with, but damn it all, I'm having fun with her. This is the main story of Zemira Shani Makhabi, my homebrewed blorbo and shameless self-critique. She started out as a reader insert before I decided to turn her into a golem allegory full of meta commentary on what it means to relate to a fictional character. That, and so much BDSM shit like oh man so FUCKING much.

4. Operation: GREENHOUSE - Pip Bernadotte (Hellsing)/Zemira Shani Makhabi. In dead last, a fic involving a character who is unfortunately not very popular to write about, but I happen to find incredibly hot in his own right. Technically AU of an AU fic too? IDK man I just wanted to write steamy smut about these two because I thought their dynamic was fun bwahahaha

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely I do! They really motivate me to continue and I love connecting with people based on how they perceive my work.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

MWEHEHEHEHE that'd be Interview With the Impaler. I used the Mean Alucard tag for a reason. I may continue this story yet tbh, because I could make it ever angstier.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Operation: GREENHOUSE. Just ends with those two snuggling and teasing each other. Easy shit.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I'm extremely lucky to have never gotten a mean comment and hope it never happens.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

LITERALLY EVERYTHING I WRITE IS SMUT BWAHAHAHAHA I lean heavy on a few tropes - maledom/femsub shit, mind break/hypnosis/heat/etc, and a constant obsession with men's hands. Hands in general, tbh, I get really horny about hands.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I've never published a crossover but I like the idea of one. I would need to find two series which I REALLY wanted to compare and contrast.

11. Have you ever had a fiction stolen?

None that I know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

See above

13. Have you ever co-writtten a fic before?

Nothing that's published, but a pal of mine and I are cooking something cool up rn... You know who you are.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

ALUTEGRA BAYBEEEEEEEEEEE my beloved genderfuck angst-fest full of questions about monstrosity vs. humanity and forbidden desires and old souls and and and and look do you know how hard it is to have an OTP that literally never touch in the original series

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don't have any right now but I live in constant fear I'll wake up one day without the drive to finish Lesions. That would make me so sad.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I can write really visceral gore and snappy action scenes, I can construct a layered character like a motherfucker, and I'm pretty damn good at dialogue, I think.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

OOF. Plot. Fucking PACING. I feel like my stories can sometimes feel like super compelling personalities flopping about in a sandbox. Which can work, for some cases, but I try to deliver on the promise of a compelling plot.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

It really depends. I've seen writers do it with tags for the translated words? It seems to work best for small, potent exchanges.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I think this honor actually goes to Pokemon. I was doing a Nuzlocke comic once upon a time!

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Probably Lesions, thus far, lol

Tags: @neet0 @rotten-hearts-sharp-teeth @brunette-barbie42

[thekatebridgerton]

Bridgerton DND au Part 2 (the campaign)

Campaingn title: The Charm Offensive

Premise: The party has been hired by Lady Danbury, Gareth's wealthy merchant grandmother, to secure a contract with a noble family who call themselves the Bridgertons. Lady Danbury hopes to sell her wares to the siblings, but they have been notoriously difficult to charm. The party must win over each sibling individually to gain their support, as each sibling holds a different sway in the household.

Objective: Each sibling must be pacified and convinced to ally with the party's merchant employer, the famous Lady Danbury, as well as reveal clues to a larger mystery that threatens the noble family. The party must navigate the family's treacherous politics and uncover the sinister forces at work before it's too late.

NPCs:

- The Merchant: Lady Danbury, Gareth's grandmother, A wealthy and ambitious tradeswoman who has long coveted the Bridgerton family's patronage.

- The Noble Family: the Bridgertons

- The Eldest Brother: Anthony the rake, Cold and calculating, with a sharp wit and a love of games.

- The Eldest Sister: Daphne, the diamond, A refined and aristocratic young lady, with an eye for fashion and the latest gossip.

- The Second Brother: Benedict, the artist A boisterous and artistic soul, seeking thrills and excitement wherever he can find it.

- The second Sister: Eloise, the intrepid. A fiery and passionate rebel, chafing against the strictures of her noble upbringing.

- The Third Brother: Colin the traveler, A charming and charismatic courtier, who has traveled the world and is always ready with a clever quip or a silver tongue.

- The third Sister: Francesca, the graceful, A bookish and reclusive scholar, preferring the company of her precious tomes to that of society.

- The Fourth Brother: Gregory the handsome, An enigmatic and mysterious figure, known for his strange experiments and bizarre inventions.

- The Fourth Sister: Hyacinth the brave, A curious and mischievous soul, with a talent for healing and a deep love of the outdoors.

Encounters:

- The party is introduced to the Bridgertons family at a lavish ball, but each sibling rebuffs their advances in turn.

- The party must participate in a series of games and challenges with Anthony, including a high-stakes game of pall mall and a death-defying duel.

- The party must accompany Daphne on a shopping spree through the city's most exclusive boutiques, but must fend off rival suitors and navigate intrigue in the fashion world.

- The party joins Benedict on a hunt for rare and dangerous art piece, but must also contend with bandits and rival art collectors looking to assassinate him.

-The party helps the Eloise escape the family estate and discover her true passion, but must also fend off angry guards and navigate a dangerous landscape of the unknown countryside.

- The party must navigate a treacherous series of courtly intrigues with the Colin, including a dangerous game of court politics and a tense confrontation with a rival of the family. Cressida Cowper

- The party assists the Francesca in uncovering a forbidden tome in her deceased husband family library, but must contend with traps and puzzles along the way.

- The party aids the Gregory in completing a bizarre escape room experiment, but must contend with unexpected side effects of his follies and strange creatures.

- The party joins the Hyacinth on a mission to heal a injured beast in the Forrest, but must also fend off sinister forces that seek to corrupt Hyacinth's power for evil.

Conclusion: The party must piece together the clues given by each sibling to uncover a sinister plot to overthrow the Queen and frame their family. They must race against time to stop the conspirators and secure the family's support for Lady Danbury's merchant house. In doing so, they may also uncover secrets about themselves and their own pasts.

[punderdome]

WIP Wednesday!

The Fine Print: Chapter 7: The Honeymoon

Summary: Raphael convinces Tav to share a honeymoon with him, and the Archivist provides her with some critical knowledge to help her survive it.

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

The Archivist absolutely needs a name, especially after all the shit Tav is about to put him through.

Tav visited the archives after breakfast, allowing Raphael the chance to get some contracts finalized.  The Archivist was pouring over a tome and making notes on the side about a pair of gauntlets sitting on his desk.  They hummed with Weave and required a thorough characterization.

“Good morning,” Tav greeted warmly.  For the first time, the Archivist looked up at her and caught her gaze.  He seemed displeased by the interruption but completely unwilling to express it to the Master’s wife.

“How may I assist you, my Lady?” he asked patiently.

“What is your name?  I’m Tav - Tavara,” she corrected, unsure if he would ever consider using her name or if titles were all she was going to be given.

“Kilzire Ozvius, Master Archivist of the House of Hope,” he returned the gesture.  “Now, what can I help you with, Lady Tav?”

“I am trying to learn proper Devilish Infernal, can you help me with a few translations?”  Tav held out the Infernal copy of the book on Asmodeus that he loaned to her a few days prior.  The Tiefling considered her question for a brief moment before he nodded.  He gestured for her to show him the passages she was struggling with.

“I have been struggling with this passage that describes Asmodeus’s true serpentine form.  I initially read this as ‘wounds dripping of acid black blood’ but the Common tongue version says ‘a series of never-healing wounds that exude blood blackened by sin and torment.’  Can you help me understand the difference?”  Tav requested.

He took a second to understand her request before going through the section rune by rune.  “I see,” there was a look of slight hesitation in his eyes.  “So you’ve never studied Devilish Infernal before?”

Tav swallowed.  “No.  My lack of study is what led me here.”  Kilzire had a look in his eye that twinged with embarrassment, though whether it was from her husband’s view on Tiefling Infernal or some sort of forbidden knowledge of how she actually became the Archduchess, she couldn’t say.

He pointed out the runes that described the blood of Asmodeus.  “This word means never-healing wound in Infernal, but in Tiefling Infernal it means just wound.”  He gave her a different word in Infernal to indicate that the wound could be healed, then added a suffix to indicate that the wound was in the process of being healed.

“May I have some parchment and a quill, I would like to take notes.”  She wrote down the new terminology along with other examples of various types of wounds that may or may not be healable, in the process of being healed, mostly healed, failed to be healed, festering, fouled, necrotic, infected, and filled with devilish black pus.  He went through and explained the subtle differences between them, often with only a single letter difference or a change in inflection or tone marked by the slight changes in angle of the letters.

“In spoken Infernal, your original reading would be sufficient to communicate most of your ideas, but written down or in a contract, the translation provided would be the correct way to interpret the writing.”  Kilzire walked out from behind his desk and into the stacks.  He returned with a relatively thin book bound in brown leather.

“Wound Treatments for the Front Line of the Blood War?” Tav asked as she read the title on the cover.

“Should you wish to practice your new knowledge,” Kilzire explained briefly.

Tav realized how much of his time she had used, and she only asked for clarification on a single word.  “Thank you, Kilzire.”  She collected the two books and her notes and returned to her room.

She lay the books on her table.  She had an eternity to learn to properly read the works in front of her.  It was the only way she was going to be able to correct her mistakes.

***

Tav walked into the archive, and saw Kilzire taking copious notes on a scroll over something he had been reading.  He gave a slight smile as she approached.

“Good morning, Lady Tav, how may I assist you?”

“I need a Devilish Infernal translation of something.  Can you help me smooth out the language?”

“Why yes, of course.  Whatever do you need?”

“I need you to teach me to say ‘I belong completely to you, and you’re the only one who will ever have my body ever again’ in Devilish Infernal,” Tav explained.

Any warmth that had been in his guise or his voice immediately vanished.  “You must be joking.” 

“Not in the slightest.”

“You realize that there is an entire section dedicated to erotica right over there!” He pointed wildly at a back corner.  She would have to investigate it later.

She steadied her emotions.  “Will you help me or not?”

“I studied at the top universities to be competent enough to serve an Archduke of the Hells.  Now, here I am, doing this,” he lamented.  He gave her the phrase in Devilish Infernal, and Tav took detailed notes about each word choice he made.  There were only a few small adjustments from the initial translation that she had fabricated earlier.

“Thank you,” Tav said quietly as she left the archive.

***

Tav entered the archive, and Kilzare gave an audible groan.

“I don’t want to hear it, my Lady Tav,” he protested.

“Raphael needs to hear it, Kilzare.”

“Hells, what do you want me to translate now?” he demanded, the look on his face indicated he was eager to get back to his work and to get the very idea of his boss having active nether regions out of his mind.

“‘I want you to trace my entire body with your tongue,’” Tav answered in an absurdly straightforward fashion.  

Kilzire stared at her.  His mouth tightened in a deep frown.

“Think about it,” Tav started with her prepared argument,  “has Raphael hurt you or threatened to hurt you since we started our honeymoon?  Who has he flayed?”

His eyes hit the rafters and he swallowed slowly in a deep show of indignity.  “No one, Lady Tav.”

“Do you want to keep it that way?” Tav inquired.

Kilzare took a deep sigh before translating the sexually charged statement for her.  “Can I just translate them in bulk?” he asked with a twinge of disgust.

Tav sighed, trying to respect his boundaries but also trying not to betray the reason that she needed the phrase list updated daily.  “Not really,” she grimaced.

[anueutsuhos-touhou-profiles]

Kosuzu Motoori:

Kosuzu Motoori is the girl who runs Suzunan, a bookstore on the outskirts of the Human Village. It contains all kinds of books in every language, all abandoned by the outside world or brought in by humans unfortunate enough to be gapped in.

More interestingly, it contains far too many Youma books: books written by youkai and/or contain youkai sealed within. Cursed tomes, basically. These books can't be read by normal humans, but Kosuzu is special. She has the superpower (how she got it is unknown) to read anything in any language. She doesn't actually know every language, however, so she can't write in them.

Unfortunately, many youkai, most notably Mamizou Futatsuiwa, have taken an interest in Kosuzu because of this. Thankfully, so have Reimu and Marisa, who intend to keep an eye on her for as long as they need to in order to prevent her from misusing the Youma books or allowing them to fall into the wrong hands.

Kosuzu Motoori is the main character of the manga Forbidden Scrollery, which lasted from 2012 to 2017. Even though this girl only appears in the manga, ZUN still composed a theme song for her, called The Bibliophile with the Deciphering Eye: https://youtu.be/i0Wt3lN7-mk

Kosuzu is a naive and curious girl, who charges headfirst into danger. Yet she's also easily scared and can't handle the danger of youkai. She's very interested in the youma books she has, to the extent of completely losing interest in her normal books. She starts the series as ignorant of the true nature of Gensokyo as any human, but slowly finds out, through the youkai who visit her, the true level of interdependence between humans and youkai in Gensokyo. Humans should be scared of youkai since youkai do eat people, but youkai need that fear to continue existing, and thus have actually saved the Human Village from natural disasters and plagues.

Kosuzu's age is unknown, but she's only slightly younger than Hieda no Akyuu, who is 27, so early-mid 20s is the best bet. She lives with her parents, but we never see them onscreen.

Among the youma books in Kosuzu's possession, she has a book containing the smoke and fire youkai Enera, a book which sealed a demonic serpent, a set of cursed love letters, and, most importantly: the  Night Parade of 100 Demons Picture Scroll. This is a scroll containing a massive number of tsukumogami of all shapes and sizes, as well as a demon resembling a giant black cattle skeleton. Youkai night parades are a common concept in Japanese folklore, by the way. This is very important later. Since youkai started taking an interest in her, Aya Shameimaru the tengu convinced her to start selling her Bunbunmaru newspaper.

Oh and she has the Japanese edition of the Necronomicon.

Unlike Kasen, who cynically views Reimu as first and foremost a lazy good-for-nothing to the point of forgetting all the good she does for Gensokyo, Kosuzu views Reimu idealistically as a brave savior of Gensokyo's humans from the evil youkai. This goes to the extent that part of the reason she acts so careless with her youma books is that she expects Reimu or Marisa to solve the problem easily should it arise. She learns later on that the truth is far more complicated, but she ends the manga admiring Reimu as ever.

Her relationship with Mamizou is an interesting one. While Mamizou initially just wanted to get the Night Parade Picture Scroll out of her, and to manipulate her into distributing pro-tanuki propaganda through her bookstore, Mamizou's mature attitude and general confidence caused Kosuzu to admire her, saying she'd like to be just like Mamizou when she grew older. When Kosuzu finally found out she was a tanuki the whole time, she was mentally shattered. She started becoming paranoid about just how deep youkai influence in Gensokyo went. This, combined with what she knew about youkai preventing natural disasters, led her to begin wondering if youkai were bad or good.

She asked Akyuu, Reimu, and Marisa, and they all gave very bad answers that basically amounted to "youkai aren't bad, but you need to lie to yourself and say they are".

Eventually, she found out about how many youkai interacted with Reimu and Marisa on a regular basis, and started panicking. She didn't know what to do or who to trust.

At this point, Yukari Yakumo appeared to her, and appeared to offer a solution. This resulted, however, in Kosuzu becoming possessed by the Night Parade Picture Scroll and going on a rampage, attacking Marisa.

Reimu and Mamizou reluctantly joined forces to defeat Kosuzu as she was. Reimu figured out Yukari was behind it and went to go face her, while Mamizou took on Kosuzu. Mamizou did take care to spare Kosuzu's life, but only because Reimu demanded she do so. She used her tanuki armies to deal with the little tsukumogami, and separate Kosuzu from the scroll, leaving only the cattle skeleton demon to deal with.

Mamizou remembered that the Night Parade Picture Scroll specifically depicted a large gang of youkai partying all night long, and so stopped the monster of the scroll by turning into the sun! Of course, she did take the Night Parade scroll for her own ends. She's not really a good person, after all.

Eventually, Kosuzu and her friend Akyuu were invited to a big party at the Hakurei Shrine, where Mamizou, Aya, and a whole bunch of other past Touhou characters were. Reimu and Marisa decided to stop lying to her and invite her into the "inner circle" of people who know how Gensokyo really works.

Reimu herself had to be reminded of it from Yukari, who lectured her without struggle when Reimu faced her. Reimu's job is not to commit youkai genocide. It turns out Yukari's solution for Kosuzu's conflict was to turn Kosuzu into a youkai, cause her to cause an incident, Reimu was supposed to defeat her in non-lethal spellcard duel, and then they'd hang out at the shrine together like so many other youkai Reimu faced off against in the past. While it didn't quite work as Yukari expected, since Kosuzu was freed from the possession, it still worked out in the end.

Now Kosuzu lends books to both humans and youkai, though she personally evaluates people to see if they deserve youma books. She also dreams of one day being able to fight in spellcards against or with Reimu some day.

Kosuzu is loosely based on the real life Edo period scholar Norinaga Motoori. The book store Suzunan is based on Suzunoya, his personal study room.

Oh, and Kosuzu's name means "little bell". Ko being "little". You can see the bells in her hair. They jingle whenever she walks and it's adorable.