#and making sure my character consistency was kept in check

[dunedragon]

Me: Finally picking up Legacy Collection again.

Mega: Whoa! Just where have you been? >:(

Me: WRITING ANGSTY FANFICTION

[arolesbianism]

One thing that makes my life oh so hard is that I don't actually care for most of the popular dupes that much. I don't Not like them to be clear, I do like them, I just also feel like I'm staring at a color blind test whenever I see ppl talk abt their favorite dupes and everyone involved is obsessed with the same like 3 dupes that I just sort of like well enough and nothing more. Sorry women I don't actually care abt Bubbles that much 😔

[murkycran]

Radiostatic/Voxal Fic Rec List

Welcome to my Radiostatic/Voxal Fic Rec List! ^_^ This will include romantic, platonic, and/or queerplatonic Radiostatic fics (and admittedly probably a couple of Radiosilence fics, too).

I will keep updating this periodically as I read more fics, so feel free to check back every once and a while! I'll reblog it when I update it, plus make a note with the date at the top. Trust me, this is by no means a complete list; there's fics I still want to add to this that I just haven't gotten to yet. I just decided to go ahead and post it anyways, because if I kept waiting until I ran out of fics to rec I'd probably be working on this forever.

These are not in any particular order; I'm going by both my Bookmarks list on AO3 and my memory of fics I forgot to bookmark. I also tried to make notes on what fics were written before season 1 released, but I might have missed some, so keep that in mind.

Please let me know if any links don't work or are wrong!

✨Before you proceed:✨ read the tags on these fics if you decide to read them. Many of them have heavy material - no surprise given the fandom, but still, felt like this needed said. On that note, there's also fics with explicit material and some fics are straight up PWP. Again, read at your own risk/heed the tags.

Fic Rec List Masterpost

Staticmoth Fic Rec List

Misc. Vox Fic Rec List

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Radio Healed the Video Star by Aspiring_Forest_Witch

Summary: Alastor comes across an unconscious and battered Vox while out on one of his strolls. He feels compelled to bring him back to the hotel.

Notes: 98% of this fic was written before season 1 was released, so keep that in mind, because there's obviously going to be inconsistencies with canon. It's nearly finished (at least according to the author's notes in the latest chapters, I think). I suggest pacing yourself with this one - it's nearly 700k words long. I ruined a good sleep schedule staying up to get through it. (So worth it though.) There are quite a few OCs in later chapters, but they're such good OCs. You fall in love with them just as much as the canon characters, I swear. I would die for Verity and the Trio.

Let's Misbehave by joosymango

Summary: Alastor wins a bet against Vox, now his rival must stop pestering him for two weeks. It should be a pleasant break! So why does he miss the idiot?

Notes: Vaguely inspired by Aspiring_Forest_Witch's Radio Healed the Video Star. Also largely written before season 1 release. First fic I read for the HH fandom. ^_^

Safe with Me Series by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: Having only ever set his sights on men who treat women with odious disrespect, Alastor never thought he'd take interest in Vox's turbulent relationship with his fiancé and business partner, Valentino. He decides to lend a helping hand in the hopes of getting Vox out of his sticky situation. After all, what are childhood enemies for?

Unfortunately, neither Alastor nor Vox could've predicted the rollercoaster of unsaid emotions and future horrors that are thrown their way. Will they be able to rely on each other and get by unscathed? Or will destiny have other plans for these two?

[HUMAN AU] [There's art included for the human designs]

Notes: It's so, so good. ;-; Heed the tags. There's a prequel consisting of oneshots, plus a sequel (listed below, bc I can't not put it here)! And there's ART! So much art!

You, My Everything by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: Some say that love can conquer all, even in Hell.

Vox begged to differ, and he was damn well sure Alastor did too – or at least he would be, if Alastor hadn’t become one big question mark.

Sequel to Safe with Me.

Notes: Only read if you've read Safe With Me!!! Still pretty early in the story but so good. ;-; The angst, I swear...

You're on the Air by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: A series of short, daily conversations between a radio host and his avid listener, as the two learn more about each other’s lives over the air. Set in the late 90s/early 2000s.

Notes: Same author as Safe with Me, but not set in the same universe! This one is set up in a literal radio show format; almost entirely dialogue-centric.

Of Candied Pine and Cherried Smoke by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: Inspired by x_Arcticfox_x’s fanfiction: Blue Raspberries And Cherry Cola

After overdosing on them one too many times to curb the steadily weakening suppressants, Vox's body rejects them outright. Now with his scent getting stronger, he finds himself struggling to hide his true status as an Omega. In his desperation, he seeks help from the one person that knows his secret: Alastor.

Notes: Omegaverse. Same author as Safe with Me series and You're on the Air!

Blue Raspberries And Cherry Cola by x_Arcticfox_x

Summary: Vox is an omega, that's his biggest secret.

During his life time he hid this fact using suppressants, and counited to in death. One day he runs out of pills and his supplier is out of stock for the time being so Vox is forced to submit to the torture of going through heat for the first time in decades.

Too bad his business partner only see's omega's as mere object's...

But hey, at least Angel found him just in time, right?

Notes: Omegaverse. Currently on hold, but has 14 chapters currently available for reading. :)

Once Bitten, Twice Shy by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Alastor decides that it's time to claim what is rightfully his, consequences be damned.

Notes: It's not porn but it might as well have been for how fucking intense this scene was. 😳

Dripping Pink by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Just before an Overlord meeting, Alastor gets infected by an off-market, highly potent, and incredibly dangerous love potion. Nobody realises until it's too late.

Notes: Simultaneously funny as fuck and erotic as all hell. I suffered from so much secondhand embarrassment on Vox's behalf. It's wonderful. :D

Lucidity's Fog by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Ever since he met Alastor, Vox has been having raunchy dreams about the deer. Those dreams suddenly stop when Alastor disappears. For seven years, he's free of the guilt, of the shame brought on by his unconscious desire.

Until Alastor comes back, and Vox is plagued by a new dream the same day he finds out about the news. This time, however, something is distinctively different about how the deer is acting.

Notes: Author tagged for light angst, but ngl the ending did not feel like 'light' angst to me lol. Hurt in a good way.

Finger Tips and Dotted Lips by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Alastor has sensitive hands; he finds this out at the most inconvenient time possible. Unfortunately, Vox is the one who ends up paying the price for it.

Having to help a seemingly broken Overlord whilst navigating this new discovery proves to be a little more taxing than the Radio Demon could ever have imagined.

Notes: Alastor is such a troll in this omg.

Thawing Out by Seaside_Dreaming

Summary: Seeing a small crack in Vox's screen nags at Alastor more than he likes to admit.

Vox wishes things were better. Sooner or later, Alastor has to come to terms with the fact he has feelings, in general.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. HIGHLY suggest reading the prequel one-shot. It's not necessary to understand the plot here, but you should read it anyway.

Static by passthevoxcord

Summary: Vox creates a new and improved version of himself to please Val, only to be replaced by it. He is left beaten and broken with no one to turn to . . . except maybe his oldest enemy, Alastor.

Notes: Written before season 1 release.

Hating you feels so good by TwoBitJester

Summary: Vox obsesses over his returned enemy and finds himself a little too wound up

Notes: Very good PWP.

Laced Over Dinner by hazbinhearts

Summary: Vox is persuaded to dress a little differently over dinner for Alastor, but finds it remarkably uncomfortable as the night goes on. Written for VoxWeek21 Day 3: dressing up [appearance, formal, dance].

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Corsets. 😳

Observer by DeviousPossum

Summary: He moved the cursor to click off, when he suddenly heard a very recognizable static laced tone.

Alastor.

Alastor.

What the fuck. Alastor is singing.

Vox unintentionally ran claw marks across his desk, an increasingly common habit for him as of late. He grimaced at his now ruined table and unsuccessfully tried to reel in an inexplicable feeling that could only be described as jealousy.

Notes: Porn with a tiny bit of plot in the first chapter. :3

RadioTV Week 2021 Series by Heliosolar

Summary: Pretty much the title; various prompts.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. All worth reading, though they aren't connected.

Sharkblocking by Anonymous

Summary: Alastor is Vox’s number one rival. Incidentally, though nobody involved is aware of it, Alastor’s number one rival is actually Vox’s pet shark.

In which Alastor is actually a little obsessed back and Vark is the biggest obstacle to Radiostatic short of canon itself.

Notes: VARK!

Control + V by TooManyPsuedonyms

Summary: Vox and Alastor have a... thing. Not quite a relationship, but something. Vox is too scared to define it properly, and Alastor is dead set that Vox will eventually get bored of his lack of reciprocity and move on.

So, Valentino tries to show Vox what he is missing.

... too bad Vox didn't want him like that. ... too bad Alastor didn't know want is a vague word.

Notes: Heed the tags!!! There's currently a sequel; I haven't read it yet, but I definitely plan to. 👀

gift of the magi by vol_ctrl

Summary: "... Although husband and wife are now left with gifts that neither one can use, they realize how far they are willing to go to show their love for each other, and how priceless their love really is ..."

Alastor/Vox established relationship fluff.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Very sweet. ^_^

the lost tape by vol_ctrl

Summary: There's a NEW ambitious media demon in Pentagram City. You never get a second chance to make a first impression, right?

Notes: Written before season 1 release.

12 Days of Yuletide by vol_ctrl

Summary: A parody of the 12 Days of Christmas traditional tune, as can only be done by Vox gifting to his beloved adversary.

Or, a series of letters from the desk of Alastor upon receiving a series of increasingly elaborate gifts from his insufferably modern foil during the holiday season.

Notes: Written before season 1 release.

Fear makes the heart grow fonder by Graysongirl

Summary: After a bit of inspiration from an unlikely source Vox comes up with the plan that scaring Alastor is the best route to gaining his affections. The haunted house at LuLu World seems like the perfect (safe) environment for a bit of pre-planned scaring...

[Stand-alone staticradio]

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Funny af. "Red! Red!" XD

Cordyceps, King of Ants by spappest

Summary: Vox is tired. Of Valentino. Of Velvette. Of Alastor, and Hell, and everything in between. He can't escape, but he can cut himself off, piece by piece, until he feels nothing at all. Alastor takes exception to this approach and commissions a certain princess of Hell to fix his foe. Now Vox has a hotel of misfits on one side of him, overlords on the other, and Alastor crushing his cage ever smaller.

Clearly, the only way Vox will get any peace and quiet is to just kill God.

Valentino did always tell him that he had no chill.

Notes: Started before season 1 was released. Technically features Staticmoth but it's not the focus as much as Radiostatic (which honestly has a relationship status of ??? not romantic but also not friendship or even strictly enemies...just...Alastor and Vox). O_O I think about this fic on a daily basis.

Russian Roulette by spappest

Summary: Vox and Alastor play a game that Vox is way too excited to lose.

Notes: Started before season 1 release. Take note!!! I'm putting this on the Radiostatic list because it's almost entirely centered on Alastor and Vox's dynamic, but the romantic relationship is Staticmoth. The Staticmoth is just not featured very much.

Vox and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Afterlife by spappest

Summary: Alastor goes into rut.

Vox has a bad time. Then a good time. Then a very bad time. Then a brief vacation. Then a confusing time.

Notes: Background Staticmoth, but Radiostatic is most prominent. Funny af. Alastor and Vox have...a very special relationship. Lol.

Killer Ex by FanGirl48

Summary: Alastor was a serial killer who valued his privacy. So when someone who claims to know what he is tries to barge into his life he can't let them live, his secret must be protected at all cost.

A normally easy task easy task becomes complicated when Alastor's ex-boyfriend is dragged into the whole thing forcing the serial killer to go visit them for the first time in seven years.

Notes: Human AU. Love me some possessive Alastor. <3

Negotiations by FanGirl48

Summary: Vox had no interest in attending a meeting between Heaven and Hell following the failed attack by the Adam and his Exterminators. Alastor's little gremlin caused the mess, so he can go clean it up. Vox had nothing wanted nothing to do with the radio demon, king of hell or heaven.

But that was before Lucifer made the media overlord aware of Valentino's little job offer to his daughter.

Damnit Valentino!

Notes: "And they were roommates!" "Oh my god they were roommates"

Down, Up, and Back Down by CowboyEnthusiast

Summary: Vox dies. Surprisingly no one takes this well.

Or, Vox dies and Alastor tries to drag his soul back from Purgatory.

Notes: Another fic I think about daily... Heavy themes. Heed the tags.

Hold Me Like a Grudge by Rachello344

Summary: Alastor has spent a long time running from Vox. Vox has chased after him almost as long. When suppressants fail throughout the city, they finally collide.

Notes: Omegaverse. Fun fact about this author: all their Radiostatic fic titles are from Fall Out Boy lyrics lol. (I fucking love FOB sue me.) I haven't yet read all of Rachello344's Radiostatic fics, BUT I have them all on my To Read list because I've loved everything I've read of theirs so far lol.

What Makes You So Special? by Rachello344

Summary: With Lucifer’s return to the Pride Ring, the other Deadly Sins were bound to take notice. When Asmodeus stops by the Pride Ring to visit the Morningstars, the Vees are able to make a deal to host a pop-up shop of the incredibly popular Lust Ring establishment, Ozzie’s, bringing it to the Pride Ring for the first time.

When Vox and Alastor both attend the restaurant’s opening night, long repressed sparks fly, forever changing their relationship.

Notes: Because of the pacing of this (sex first romance later), I feel like this is the Radiostatic equivalent of Femalefonzie's Freak-A-Zoid (a really good Staticmoth fic). This is hands down one of the most romantic Radiostatic fics I've read. ^_^

Hold Me Tight (or Don't) by Rachello344

Summary: Alastor and Vox finally come to an understanding, both of each other and of what they each mean to the other. Their relationship evolves accordingly, one concession at a time, until they both get everything they could possibly want: power, companionship, and even love.

Notes: So, so good.

Keep You Like an Oath by Rachello344

Summary: Alastor normally wouldn’t bother with the chore—breaking into V Tower was quite a lot of work, even for him—but he found himself curious about what Vox and his little friends might be working on. Especially since whatever it was had Angel concerned enough to report back to the rest of the hotel about it.

Of course, before he can learn anything, he’ll need to sneak past Vox’s watchful eye…

Notes: God it's just...so good. Read it. Radiostatic reconciliation. One thing I love about Rachello344 writing Radiostatic is Alastor's terms of endearment for Vox. ^_^

To Be Yours by pinegreenapples

Summary: Alastor hears something he hasn't heard in years. He decides to investigate why now, of all times, this frequency has turned back on. Vox is not amused.

Notes: Hurt no comfort. Hurts so good, though. ;-;

oleanders in june by spoondrifts

Summary: It seems like while Alastor was off preying on the self-destructive addictions of desperate sinners, Vox was off getting himself beaten half to death, probably from spouting belligerent nonsense at someone with violent tendencies and a far lower threshold for disrespect than Alastor. Not everyone finds poor Vox’s chatter as charming as he does.

If Vox is unconscious, then Vox is not being entertaining, and Alastor came here to have fun, not play nursemaid.

Or: Drunk on power and itching to cause some mayhem, Alastor hunts down the only person in the city who's always up for anything. Unfortunately, he finds Vox... not exactly in tip-top shape. No matter; he can work with that too.

Notes: ^_^ Very sweet.

equilibrium by curtailed

Summary: Post-Finale. The Hotel finds Alastor right on the front lawn, unconscious and bleeding, still injured from Adam's blade. While he recovers, all of Hell scrambles to find out who his mysterious rescuer is.

Meanwhile, Vox tries not to freak out that he might have accidentally made a soul bond to save that deer asshole's life. All he had wanted to do was to scope out the ruins of Alastor's radio tower. Fuck him for being curious, he supposed.

Notes: This fic has me in a CHOKEHOLD. I love the characterizations so, so much. Manages to fit in humor alongside the angst. One of the best fight scenes I've ever seen put into words. Curtailed really took Vox and Alastor as characters and planned out a cool fucking fight scene using their unique abilities. I automatically love anything tagged with "one fell first but the other fell harder" lol.

candlelight by curtailed

Summary: Despite the #SirRepentious success, Heaven remains skeptical of a sinner's ability to change. Logic gets lost somewhere, and really, what's a better way to show sinners can be marginally less horrible than to stick two Overlords who hate each other in the same living space?

OR

Alastor and Vox play house.

Notes: The comedy of Alastor and Vox being forced to be civil with each other and then unintentionally becoming very domestic together. Lol

wallow by curtailed

Summary: A 2+1 fic. Two times when Alastor and Vox were in a love triangle (hard quote on love, hard quote on triangle), and the one time Alastor had Vox to himself.

Notes: Only 1 (very good) chapter so far, but safe to say pretty heavy already. Heed the tags.

Addicted by Dancingdog

Summary: After the latest argument with Valentino, Vox finds himself at the Hazbin Hotel. An injured Alastor is less-than-pleased to see him, which is understandable considering they are enemies.

But as more and more of Valentino's venom leaves his system, Vox begins to remember his days before V-Tower and he learns exactly why Alastor rejected his offer all those decades ago.

His memories return in fits and spurts - not all of them good. His past with Alastor isn't something he expected and it turns out that he isn't the only one suffering.

Notes: Dude. This fic hurt me. Such good angst.

Radio Made the Video Star Series by songofhell

Summary: Snippets of Vox and Alastor's afterlife, and their journey from strangers to friends to enemies to... something more.

Notes: Pretty much what the series summary says - a series of installments that chronicle the beginning and subsequent evolution of Alastor and Vox's relationship. Very good, has tons of possessive!Alastor, which I die for.

Uneasy by Saezs

Summary: “Something’s wrong with Voxy.”

Velvette’s eyes snapped to the tall moth pimp. “And?” she prompted with a raised eyebrow. As if she needed to deal with two piss babies this close to a show. Valentino shrugged, tapping away on his phone, and walked away to stand threateningly close to her new models. Before she could snap at him, she saw it; his wings were twitching. Barely noticeable to strangers, just under the hum of the building’s lights, he was squeaking with each tap of his fingers. She felt unease and a healthy dose of aggravation swirl in her stomach.

Or: Vox was roofied and sexually assaulted. Velvette tries to be better than her mother. Unexpected connections are formed.

Notes: Heed the tags! Features genderfluid Vox. :)

Five Times Vox and Alastor Danced and One Time They Didn't by Drowsy_Salamander

Summary: “I say, good fellow, what are you doing on the ground like that?”

The voice was perky, cheerful, and bright. It had a crisp mid-Atlantic accent, the kind Vox remembered being all the rage for stage and film performers back when he first entered the broadcast industry. The diction was crystal clear with every sound enunciated separately to maximise clarity, the consonants clicked and the vowels were broad. It was a performer’s voice.

A voice for radio.

Oh shit.

... Five times Vox and Alastor danced and one time Vox and Alastor didn't.

From their first meeting through their friendship, to their enmity and fighting. From infatuation to yearning to animosity. Dancing is a partnership, is it not?

Notes: Each chapter so far has been a different type of dance, which is really neat. Especially chapter 2. ^_^ That said, there's a feeling of impending doom, knowing what happens to their relationship eventually... Not saying that as a deterrent but just a comment on how I felt while reading it lol. It's very sweet, which is why it hurts to think of future chapters. 🙃

Days Long Past by Momo52

Summary: All sinners of hell bore some physical marks of how they lived and died. Some physical manifestations were more obvious while others were subtle. Vox was not an exception to this rule.

While his television head was an obvious indication of his life while on Earth, the mark he bore from his death was far more subdued. Luckily enough, his shame was easily concealed behind a high collar. Unfortunately, he is just as well known in his afterlife as he was in his life. As such, trying to make everyone believe that he is so much stronger than what his death implies is a constant battle. He only wished that he wasn’t the hardest one to convince.

Notes: I think platonic Radiostatic is the endgame here. Still pretty early in the story, but I'm really liking this author's depiction of Vox and Alastor's pasts. Heed the tags. There are heavy subjects such as suicide (very big theme for Vox's pov) and period-typical racism (in Alastor's past) present in the story.

Remote Access by x-UsoTsuki-x (its_not_reael)

Summary: In the aftermath of Alastor and Vox's electrifying on-air showdown, Vox finds himself unusually rattled. His usual suave demeanor is slipping, much to his cohorts' amusement – and concern. Velvet can do little more than roll her eyes at his antics. Valentino, on the other hand, is convinced that all Vox needs to do is get fucked and relax.

or, alternatively...

The tech-savvy overlord manages to snag a virus from a porn site and finds himself in the arms of his worst enemy.

Notes: Fairly certain this is firmly Radiosilence based on the tags (and the direction of the story so far). Very funny, very hot. Vox is pathetic in this one. Lol

Nun-thing Like You've Ever Seen Series by A_Cypress_Coffin

Summary: Alastor, the feared radio demon with more blood on his hands than most of hell combined, wasn't always as we imagine him. There was a time where instead of a dapper suit and smile he donned a simple vow and habit. That didn't last of course, but the journey is quite something.

Notes: This author has a great sense of humor, lmao. I enjoyed the unique headcanons for Alastor's backstory. The tag that hooked me: "Accidentally becoming a better person through bad domming and found family".

Empathia by The_Oblivious_Swallow

Summary: Creating new technology is boring, sex is physically unappealing, the other Vee’s are so annoying, annoying, annoying! Even Vark, his baby, his pride and joy, doesn’t stir the same joy in his heart like he should.

So, Vox had concluded that it had to go. For his sake.

Notes: Contains Staticmoth, but Radiostatic seems like the endgame (I write this as there is one chapter still left). Really interesting idea. I love Vox.exe so much. ;-;

Every Madman Has His Vice by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: “What the fuck do you want, Alastor? Was it not enough to kill me all those years ago? Now, you had to go for the people I loved and the only things I had left in this fucking Hellhole?”

“It was my fault,” Alastor whispers as he approaches Vox slowly, as if he was some sort of wounded animal he didn’t want to scare off. His prey. “Vox, I’m sorry. If I had a chance to redo that night, I would never have hurt you to this extent. I’ll never harm you again.”

“That’s seven years too fucking late, Alastor.”

OR: Seven years ago, instead of Alastor disappearing, it was Vox who left instead.

Notes: I’m so fucking here for this AU. Possessive Alastor, Vox helping with the hotel, Husk is still an Overlord, yessss

Metathesiophobia (Fear of Change) by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: There's a lot that can change in seven years.

But never once had Alastor expected for something like this from his old rival and older friend.

Or, Alastor and Vox start to rekindle their old friendship again after a shocking discovery strikes the deer demon.

Notes: QPR Radiostatic with MtF Vox! Contains a smidge of Staticmoth, but it's in the background and not the focus. Very well written.

surimi and venison by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: A series of short drabbles (500+ words) in an interconnected universe (peep the tags, they're still in hell), centering around Alastor and his new pet fish... shark... television thing. Will (hopefully) update 1-2 times a week. Written as my attempt at a Mermay series.

Notes: Like the summary says, Mermay prompts featuring SharkHybrid!Vox, along with Alastor, who literally saw Vox and decided to make him his pet. Lol.

an arm and a leg, my dear, les yeux d'la tête by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: “I mean, usually when Val gets mad he gets like, super pissy too an’ starts destroyin’ shit ‘round the set and in his clubs, but like, usually Vox can calm him down. Problem is, where the Hell is that guy? I haven’t seen ‘im round the Tower for like, a month or two now. That ain’t normal.”

“What, so you mean he just up and left?”

“No, but like… he hasn’t been seen ‘in public’ for like, two months now. It’s startin’ to get suspicious. Like, I ‘unno if I’m just paranoid or something, but… Vox is like, the fuckin’ face of Hell’s Entertainment District. When he’s not round for a bit, that’s nothing to worry about on its own… but when he’s not round for a bit an’ Val and Velvette are creeping around, looking for his rival…? I mean… the dots are connecting. If Al did something…”

“If Vox was dead, we would know.” OR: Two months ago, Vox went missing. Right now, it seems as if Alastor has something to hide.

Notes: Vox gets attic-wifed and wears a virgin killer sweater. ^_^

we'll go down together in the ashes of our love by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: Glimpses into the Radio Demon's life as he reluctantly navigates parenthood with his co-parenting partner and the demon princess hoisted onto him by the King and Queen of Hell.

Loosely inspired by Spy X Family.

Notes: CUTE! I love domestic Radiostatic.

What Has Been by Tianren

Summary: Vox has never known peace. From being the son of a egocentric cult leader, to being the boyfriend of a self absorbed abuser. Vox has managed to build a pretty sad life for himself. The only spot of sunshine that had ever blessed his existence was when he met an amateur true crime investigative journalist, with a podcast named, Alastor. The man was his only source of unfiltered news and contact to the world outside his father’s compound. But after Vox finally escaped the cult he waited for Alastor. Waited weeks in their assigned meeting spot just to be forgotten. Vox was convinced he’d stopped waiting for Alastor years ago until he meets the man again seven years later at a hotel. What will reconnecting with his past lead to and will it help him escape the hell he’s built for himself?

Takes place in the late 2000s early 2010s

Trigger warning for religious trauma and abuse as major themes of this story. Will add more warnings if they arise as I go on.

Notes: Really interesting human AU concept!

(Fic rec list to be continued)

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Tell me, what did you think of ML when you first discovered it? I thought Chloe's arc in season 2 was decent for this type of show, even if it could have been better. I also never took Marinette's obsessive behavior over Adrien that seriously until it started getting really grating.

My first interaction with ML consisted of me looking for kids shows to watch in Spanish, finding Miraculous on Netflix, watching maybe three minutes of The Bubbler, and then turning the show off because it didn't seem very good. That's the episode that starts with Marinette freaking out about giving Adrien a birthday present and it gave me the impression that Miraculous was doing the classic female-protagonist-pines-for-the-male-protagonist-who-barely-even-knows-her-name trope, which is not a trope that I'm into. I'm way too ace for that shit. This is the scene in question as I looked it up to make sure I was remembering it correctly:

Marinette: Ah! (she stops right in front of Adrien.) Um, he-- Hey! (she gets nervous as she holds her gift behind her back.) Adrien:(surprised, shyly) Hey. Chloé:(as she watches what's happening outside) Wait! Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing? Don't tell me it's Adrien's birthday?! Sabrina:(checks her tablet, gets surprised, and makes excusing noises while smiling sheepishly.) Chloé:(facepalms) Ugh, do I have to do everything myself? Seriously, what are you good for? (walks toward Adrien.) Marinette:(nervously) I, uh, I wanted to, umm, gift you a make-– I mean, gift you a give I made-- I mean... Chloé:(yawns while Marinette is talking and then shoves her away) Out of the way. (she acts sweet.) Happy birthday, Adrien! (throws herself onto him and gives him a kiss on the cheek.) Mwah! Adrien:(surprised) Yeah, thanks Chlo.

This backs up my vague memory that my initial assumption was that Adrien and Chloé were friends while Adrien didn't know who Marinette was because he was clearly much more comfortable with Chloé. Same goes for Nino who was talking to Adrien earlier in this scene.

I'm not sure when this first watch occurred, but I know it was at least a year before I revisited the show. I made a friend in another fandom and that friend was transitioning out of Miraculous, but they had a lot of really good Miraculous fanart and even some fanfic which got me curious as I couldn't understand why anyone would be into the show given my dismal initial impression.

On this friend's recommendation, my SO and I started watching Miraculous an episode or two at a time. I was pretty unimpressed with the actual show, but I started reading early fandom fanfic between our watching sessions and that kept me interested enough to keep watching. My initial impression of the show didn't really change until we watched Origins. That's the episode that really made me fall in love with the canon characters as it took everything about the show and elevated it. The crushes had depth! The Chloé/Adrien thing wasn't just the bitchy rich girl going after the popular boy! Gabriel was confirmed to be the big bad! Things were suddenly going places and that honestly wasn't surprising.

It's incredibly common for kids shows to have lackluster first seasons where they don't really commit to anything major re plot because they're just testing the waters to see if they'll be green lit for more seasons. Because of this, I was under the impression that Origins must have been when they got green lit and season two was going to do the standard kids show thing where they really get to dive into the plot and characters in a big way now that they're making money. This assumption was backed up by the addition of the new heroes to the show's intro.

For the first half of season two, I was invested as it seemed like we were finally getting seasonal arcs. Chloé seemed to be getting set up for some sort of character arc, which I was all for as I enjoy a good mean girl arc. We also had some tension brewing between our heroes with Fu favoring Marinette, a dynamic that felt more accidental than planned since it only happened because Marinette found the grimoire at the end of season one. I thought all of that was going to come to a head with Chloé's Queen Bee debut as things had seemingly been set up for Chloé to be Adrien's pick for a Miraculous.

Then Queen Bee actually happened and my excitement quickly faded. I still cannot think of a less interesting way for Chloé to get and use the bee. No one gives it to her and she outs herself on national television right away? Talk about wasting an idea. Clearly this had just been a one-off thing done so that the show could drive up hype for season two based on promo images of Chloé as a hero.

But it wasn't a one off thing. For some reason, they kept bringing Queen Bee back and that's when I knew we were in for a bad time because that should have never happened. It especially shouldn't have happened when Marinette was giving out the miraculous. I could maybe see a setup where Adrien gives Chloé a second chance, but Marinette trusting Chloé made no sense:

Marinette: I must choose someone who's not impressed by people in power. Who can help me trap Malediktator. Huh?! Of course! That's it. (reaches for the Miraculous of the Bee) Wait, what am I thinking? (facepalms)

Yeah, what are you thinking? Alya was your first choice for the bee, she isn't impressed by people in power, and she wasn't hit by Malediktator, so go grab her! Why would you pick Chloé?

Long story short, I kept watching because the show wasn't terrible, my SO enjoyed hearing me dunk on it as we watched it, and I was really enjoying the fan content, but I didn't have much faith in canon after the midpoint of season two and I continually lost faith as the seasons progressed. I never pictured it getting as bad as seasons five, but I only had hopes for Miraculous to be truly good for about 2 weeks as that's how long it took us to get from Origins to the Queen Bee mess. I was also disappointed by Alya and Nino's hero journeys. I expected them to be chosen for grander reasons. As is, it felt like they only got recruited because their loved ones were in danger.

Since you brought up Marinette's crush, I'll end by saying that I have never been a fan of that style of crush-based humor (once again, way too ace for that shit), but it didn't bother me in a serious way because it was very obviously meant to be humorous. I just suffered through the jokes when they happened and then moved on as there was no reason to dwell on them. It probably helped that I was reading a lot of fanfic and even the people who love the show generally agree that Marinette's crush should be played down in more serious stories.

The only time Marinette's crush bothered me was Derision as that episode straight up destroyed her character. It also made the writers look awful because they made Kim the bad guy for laughing at Marinette's behavior, but we'd just spent over four seasons being told Marinette's behavior was a joke, so what is the lesson here? Are we all supposed to feel guilty for laughing at a trauma response we didn't know was a trauma response? Are the writers saying that trauma is funny? How can you be so tone deaf?

[sentientgolfball]

Ghoul Files: Aether

Welcome to my little series of ghoul character sheets. The Files are basically little living documents of how I headcanon/characterize each ghoul. I've made one for every ghoul (yes every ghoul) and I'll be slowly uploading them alphabetically by era just for the hell of it.

Starting with Impera/Prequelle we have Aether :3

Check out his design here !

Name: Aether 

Element: quintessence

Pronouns: he/him 

Powers: can heal minor to moderate wounds, soothe emotions, hypnosis, can read surface-level thoughts (has to be focused in order to dig any deeper), can read emotions, dream share 

Love language (giving): He is very versatile and will adapt but his default is acts of service and physical touch. 

Love language (receiving): gift-giving by far. He melts when someone hands him something because it makes them think of him. Also physical touch. Big boy likes to hold and be held. 

Pairings: When not with the whole pack Aether can typically be found in the company of Dew and Mountain. He tries to have time with Zephyr and Ifrit but it’s so hard with how busy he is, so he clings to the others from his original Topside pack. However, since the summoning of Phantom he also sticks to them. He wants to be a good influence on the little bug. 

Influential Others: Omega is probably one of the most influential people in Aether’s life. He taught him how to play guitar for the band. He taught him more about his quintessence than he could’ve ever discovered on his own. Even after all this time and all his experience, he can’t see himself as equal to Omega. Omega will always be his mentor. Cirrus also means a lot to him. She’s the ghoul who finally got him to take a chill pill, finally got him to understand it's genuinely okay to take time for yourself when you need it. They remind each other of that lesson when things get stressful. 

Kinds of People Liked: This is a bit difficult to pinpoint for Aether because he is a quintessence ghoul. He can sense baseline emotions, he can sense deeper thoughts and feelings if he prods. He generally likes most people unless he senses something strange in a bad way. 

Kinds of People Disliked: the type of people that’ll turn his Protector Mode on. So people who he senses violent/harmful/hateful thoughts/feelings from, people who take things for granted. He has lost a lot and has seen his pack lose a lot so it just rubs him wrong when he sees people who can’t appreciate what they’ve got. 

Life in the Pits: Aether’s life in the Pits is…something he regrets deeply since he’s been Topside. He used to be in a rather large pack with an even larger territory. Over half of them slowly got wiped out by an illness that had worked its way into the caves where they resided, something immune to quintessence healing. Aether blamed himself for it. He was the leader of one of the small hunting parties, the only members of the pack who consistently went in and out of the caves. If an illness was brought back it had to have been from a hunting party. Aether took it upon himself to make sure nothing like that ever happened again. He used illusions to hide the cave and essentially kept the remainders under a slight quintosis. Just enough so he could monitor their health, could keep them from leaving. He didn’t want to lose anyone else. 

Sense of Humor: shitty dad jokes. He thinks they’re hilarious and he will make them any opportunity he gets. 

Basic Nature: He is a protector. Honestly kind of like a dad/mom friend. Snacks? He’s got it. Hurt? He’ll use his quintessence before you can even register the pain. Something he doesn’t have the answer for? Well, let’s go find who can help. 

Compulsions/Habits: He always is the last one to turn in for the night. He wants to make sure everyone either gets back to the den safe or that everything is secure before the pack rests. He has a bad habit of believing his quint can fix everything. He’ll get obsessive if he can’t heal something right away, overusing it on his patient. It’s gotten better since Dew told him off after his transition, but it’s still present. 

Fears: He fucking hates animatronics. The uncanny valley is too much (which is funny considering he’s literally a demon, but Swiss nearly got his brain melted when he pointed that out). 

Attitude Towards own Body: no real strong opinion. He doesn’t hate himself, but he’s also not flaunting. He’s just content. 

Sees Self As: the first line of defense for his pack, but also someone soft and approachable. 

Hobbies: He loves to read, something about fiction and stories makes him feel almost human. He also likes to knit but with his work in the infirmary he hardly ever has time to anymore. 

Pastimes: When he’s not super busy he likes to go down to the nursery and read to the children and kits. He also loves to study the stars. He creates his own constellation maps. 

Collections: he keeps every little drawing/craft/gift he gets from either his pack or the children/kits. Like I mean everything. The box looks like a trash can filled with paper and glitter but he keeps it and adds to it. He still has all of the things that were thrown to him when he was touring. 

Reading Materials Preferred: He’s a sucker for romance novels. 

Most Prized Possession: A Polaroid of his original pack (Zephyr, Ifrit, Mountain, and Dew) prior to Dew’s elemental transition. It’s the only physical evidence of what Dew looked like before.

Favorite Colors: Warmer colors 

Favorite Foods: He likes something that’ll warm him up, something filling. His absolute favorite food is creamy mushroom soup. Of course, there’s also his Thing with bananas. 

General Likes: going to museums, colder weather, astronomy, moths

General Dislikes: crowded areas (makes the quintessence buzz), artificial raspberry flavor, cotton bedsheets, snails

Is Seen By Others As: someone to rely on. Someone you can go to with anything no matter how frivolous. 

Typical First Impression: A giant bear in the best way possible. Big strong ghoul. Maybe a little intimidating at first. 

Morning Routine: Go find Mountain and make sure he’s not running himself ragged already. Check with Omega in case he needs help in the infirmary. Go back to the den real quick for some breakfast with whoever is awake by then. Go do his daily chores. 

Evening Routine: He usually comes back from the infirmary in the middle of dinner so he quickly washes up before joining. After dinner he gets some much needed cuddle time on the couch as everyone slowly goes to bed one by one. Once everyone is all accounted for, depending on the night’s activities, he’ll clean up the common area before lighting some incense to help him sleep. 

Strongest Character Trait: His tenderness. He has a strong element and an even stronger body. He can hurt very easily, but he doesn’t. He has soft hands, a soft heart. He’s loving, tender, romantic in just about everything he does. 

Weakest Character Trait: He’s a hypocrite. Constantly fussing over others and telling Mountain he works too hard while he’d turn around and ignore basic self-care if someone needed him. He’s also caring to a fault; it will sometimes lead to him forgiving and forgetting behaviors he shouldn’t. Though, in his defense when he can sense emotions and thoughts it gets hard to rationalize sometimes. 

Mental/Emotional Blocks : sometimes treats Dew (and the rest of the pack but not to the same degree) like they’re helpless. He gets overprotective because of the transition and on bad days it’ll result in him being a bit controlling or overbearing. He’s gotten much better at self correcting this behavior, but sometimes it can still rear its ugly head. 

Chores/other job: He is basically Omega’s assistant. He primarily helps in the infirmary, but on occasion he helps Omega with his other duties. This includes preparing and leading rituals, help newly summoned ghouls acclimate, and taking care of the Ministry’s protective wards. 

Long Term Goals: He’d like to have a kit of his own some day. Dew is trying to argue for naming rights, but Aether can be stubborn if he wants to. Dew says if their kit is quint he gets to name them.  

Present Problems: He feels guilt for retiring from the band. He knew it was what he needed, but watching his pack leave without him was hard. He felt like he was abandoning them. Even now that they’re back, he knows another tour will be coming and he’ll have to do it all over again. 

One Line Characterization: Aether is a strong yet soft ghoul who puts others before himself. 

Room Description: His room is very tidy and organized. He has a queen-sized canopy bed. It always smells of incense. He has his guitars mounted on his wall. The overhead light is never on, he always uses two small lamps to light the space. He has various nightlights plugged in, not for himself, but in case a ghoul comes to him for comfort in the middle of the night. He has a potted scilla sitting on his window. His mirror is packed with various pictures of the other ghouls, Terzo, and Copia. 

Summoning: Despite his summoning being done in a hurry after Delta’s transition fell through, it went off without a hitch. He was more confused than anything, but after that wore off he became horribly curious about everything around him. However, when the novelty wore off, he fell into a depression. He was absolutely exhausted from continuously using his magick for years upon years and from the summoning. That and he couldn’t help but think about his pack, how they’ve lost yet another member. 

NSFW

Favorite position: He absolutely loves watching his partner ride him. Honestly, just any position where he can see their face. 

Dom/sub: He is always always going to be the dom, albeit a soft dom. The only people he has ever subbed for and will ever sub for is Mountain and Cirrus. He’s always soft though, the only way to get him to be meaner is to essentially plan it days in advance like an event…or wait for his rut. 

Risk: He’s not super into risky stuff but he’s willing to play along if it’s what his partner wants. Though this goes right out the window when he’s in the mood for some quintosis or a medfet scene. 

Kinks: Big breeding kink, he is always going to cum inside. Daddy kink, the need to be a protector definitely bleeds into bed. Bit of a voyeur but he’ll never admit it. Using his quintessence, he loves to tap into the mind of his partner and let them feel everything he is thinking and feeling and vice versa (also uses it to edge and deny on those occasions he’s mean). 

Aftercare: He takes his partner straight to the shower. Always. He’ll bathe them if he has to. After that, he’ll pull out his stash of food and drinks and then it’s cuddles for the rest of the night. If it’s like the middle of the day it will take a miracle for him to get out of bed and away from whoever he was with. Also uses his quintessence to soothe sore muscles and coax to sleep. 

Noise level: He’s surprisingly talkative during. Mainly check-ins and praise though. Other than that, at first, he’ll try to stifle his grunts and growls to focus on the other but after a while, he just goes full send. 

Surprise: He has a thing with his horns that was even a surprise to himself when he first discovered it. Also big fat medfet. Like to the point where he’ll always try to keep a spare room open in the infirmary for him to sneak someone into. 

[ashensgrotto]

Protective (Part 2 of 'Am I Feeling Love')

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto x F!Reader

Word Count: 5,328

Part 1 Part 2 (You Are Here) Part 3a Part 3b

I had someone ask if I was going to do a continuation of ‘Am I Feeling Love?’ that was orinally written on my main blog @kiy-anna after I rewrote the story to fit the tags better. I was mulling over the idea and my poor sea-rotted brain decided “Screw it, Mari! Just write the damn thing!”

It took a bit to figure out how I wanted to execute the process, but I’m honestly more curious to see what you guys think as well. Also, don’t forget, I have a poll that ends in a few days that will help me decide what sort of fanfiction I will be posting going forward, so please vote! It ends on Wednesday!

Warnings: yandere behavior, beatings, manipulative behavior, and foul language

***

The world is cruel, the world is wicked

It’s I alone whom you can trust in this whole city, I am your only friend

How can I protect you, girl, unless you always stay in here

Away in here…

***

Azul tapped the desk he sat behind impatiently. 

For the past hour, he had been cooped up in the VIP Room of the Mostro Lounge dealing with those poor unfortunate souls that sought him out - the pathetic fools making deals with the octomer as his patience thinned by the minute. All he wanted at this point was to get out of his office and watch you.

You, the magicless guest of Octavinelle, had been living in the guest rooms of the dorm for a little over two months and were working within the Mostro Lounge to pay for said room - not that you needed to, it was merely a lie so Azul could keep tabs on you. The other students of the Octavinelle dorm did not completely understand his reasoning; some thought that he was merely being a nice housewarden to a poor soul with no one else to turn to, others that knew the housewarden too well thought that he was using you as a way to lure in unsuspecting victims for his contracts. 

Whatever their thinking was, only Azul and his vice-warden, Jade, along with the problem twin, Floyd, knew the real reason as to why you were kept close by. 

Soulmates were rare and finding that ‘other half’ is like the story of the mermaid princess and her longing to be with a human. It’s a rare occurrence that only happens once in a millennium if not longer. Many times, people - humans, fae, and merfolk alike - often settle for someone they are content and happy with, someone that isn’t their other half. Azul, at the time he first learned about soulmates, wanted nothing more in the world than to find them - to have that one person who would see him for himself and not the pathetic octo-twerp he had been called during his youth; thus, he began working on himself, his powers increasing as he lured his victims in and stole away their most treasured gifts - a beautiful singing voice, powerful magic… all of it. 

But even with the changes and his new found strength, Azul had no luck in finding the other part of his soul - that was until about two months ago when you first appeared in Twisted Wonderland.

Azul had been ecstatic the first few weeks after you had taken up residence in his dorm; consistently coming to check on you, making sure you weren’t too tired, asked if you had eaten… and sometimes just watching you from the darkness of the lounge as you shifted from table to table, taking orders and bringing food and drinks to the guests. Nearly two weeks into working at the lounge, the clientele number increased slightly - making Azul at first wonder what had happened. 

Turns out, some of the students who had frequented the lounge had made mention of you in passing and how you were nicer compared to the other staff members - hence the students came to the lounge to, not just get a glimpse of you, but to also shoot a chance at getting you as their waitress. Jade and Floyd, who were consistently in the lounge and operated as Azul’s eyes and ears - especially when it came to you - informed Azul of what was going on. Hence, Azul decided to restrict your hours to only working when he, Jade, or Floyd was. When you asked if you had done something wrong, Azul merely rested a hand on your shoulder, eyes shining with a possessive kindness, as he explained there were certain students who had been watching you - and he was only doing this for your protection. After all, it wasn’t like he could monitor you twenty-four-seven - he still had his grades to keep up and you weren’t a student, technically.

It worked momentarily, but then Azul was back to the drawing board again when Jade had mentioned Riddle Roseheart’s overblot in passing.

Turns out, you had asked Azul for a day off the same day Riddle went berserk. Azul had asked what for, but you merely said you wanted to explore the school grounds, specifically the rose gardens that surrounded Heartslabyul. He knew that you had ‘made friends’ with two freshmen from the dorm - Deuce Spade and Ace Trappola, both who had been collared by Riddle because of their bad behavior. If Azul could work his will, he would have locked you up in his own room and thrown away the key to prevent anyone from looking at you or speaking to you - but he couldn’t find the strength to do so. Even so, he had agreed, allowing you to go to the unbirthday party that was randomly held on different days during the year, with the promise that you would come back as soon as it was over and not a minute later.

Turns out, the ‘unbirthday party’ had been a lie since Deuce and Ace both had challenged Riddle for his position as headwarden and you wanted to go to support them in their fight. However, Ace made a valid point about the rules that had been pressed upon the students of Heartslabyul and practically turned the whole dorm against Riddle - which caused his temper to flare up and the overblot to happen. Luckily, you didn’t get hurt during the fight between Riddle, Deuce, Ace, Trey, Cater, Crowley, and the pyromaniac demon cat-weasel, Grim - but you had been the one to smack sense back into Riddle with a slap to the face when he had gone after you next. 

And it was because of that slap and knocking some sense back into the headwarden of Heartslabyul that those who heard about what happened began to flock to the Mostro Lounge in search of you once more.

Azul pressed his face to hands and rubbed at his skin hard enough to turn it red as he thought and thought. What was he going to do? He couldn’t let anyone else get close to you! You were his! His soulmate! You should be putting your entire focus on him and him alone! Was that too much to ask?!

“What’s with the face?” the unwelcomed voice of Leona reached Azul’s ears as the octomer sat up and righted himself.

“What’s it to you? Nevermind, I’m busy at the moment, Leona. If you wish to speak with me, you have to make an appointment…”

“I already did, did you forget?” The beastman prince strolled into the room and plopped on the couch, arms dangling behind the rest and feet landing on the table before him, “I need to make a contract with you for a potion.”

Azul shifted his glasses into place before reaching into his desk and pulling out the familiar golden paper he used for his contracts, his pen twirling in his fingers as it shifted into a fishbone and began to write, “What sort of potion?”

“An enhancement potion,” Leona answered, side eyeing the Octavinelle headwarden before explaining, “With the Spelldrive Tournament coming up in a few weeks, and with all of these little mishaps that have been going around the campus lately, it would be a shame if something were to befall a particular headwarden we know too well.”

Azul did not need Leona to explain any further nor to question who he was referring to.

It was no secret that the Diasomia dorm had taken first place in the Spelldrive Tournament for the past two years straight - practically overrunning Savanaclaw who usually held that spot. The dorm’s success had been due to the new headwarden - Malleus Draconia - who had taken up the position the year before Azul arrived at Night Raven. Malleus was a dragon fae and one of the top ranking mages in Twisted Wonderland - so powerful that he alone was the reason for Diasomia’s success, making ninety percent of the scores by the dorm’s team. He probably would be the only player if Crowley had allowed it. 

Many of the other headwardens were disgusted by the losses and damage that had been dealt to their teams over the course of the past two years - even Azul had been winded by Draconia once and had no desire to be the dragon’s dinner again; due to this, the headmage had made the offer to place Draconia in the hall of fame, which would prevent him from participating in any more of the Spelldrive matches this year and next year. At first, all of the headwardens were in agreement - but Leona argued that it wasn’t a fair fight, claiming that they were acting like a bunch of cubs. Azul had twitched at that remark, but agreed that the fight wasn’t fair - as much as he hated it, he agreed that Leona did have a point about allowing Draconia to continue; he wanted to prove that Draconia wasn’t invincible nor was he immune, he wanted to prove that anyone could beat the Diasomia headwarden - even if it was just another individual.

Azul adjusted himself in his chair, thoroughly invested in the deal now, “If we’re thinking the same thing, Leona, you must be willing to offer something in agreement of equal price. How about that speciality spell you’re so fond of? You barely use it.”

“‘King’s Roar’?” Leona arched a brow in his direction, “I may not use it, but it does come in handy from time to time. How about my nephew instead?”

Azul twisted his features in disgust, “No thank you. I’m not Rumplestiltskin, nor a babysitter.”

Leona laughed, his voice shaking the settee for a moment, “I was only joking, Faleena would never allow me to hear the end of it. Well, then… perhaps a little advice on that soulmate of yours?”

Azul nearly dropped his pen, surprise appearing on his normally calm face before his pale blue eyes narrowed at Leona menacingly, “What do you know about that?”

“It’s not a surprise given your behavior as of late,” Leona curled his fingers inward as his gaze shifted toward them as if to inspect his nails, “Besides, I heard from a few of my dorm members that frequent here that you’ve been keeping a pretty close eye on our magicless guest.”

‘The sneaky lionfish,’ Azul sneered at Leona, feeling his temperature rising as his gloved hands curled inward.

“Personally, I have nothing against wanting to keep (Y/N) close,” Savanaclaw’s headwarden continued, “She’s cute and pretty, nevermind that fact that she’s a hard worker and kind - sucks big time that she’s a female. She probably would’ve done well in Night Raven if she was a boy.”

“What’s the point you’re getting at?” Azul seethed.

“Merely that everywhere she goes, she is welcomed. (Y/N) has made a few friends without your knowledge by working the floors of the Mostro Lounge. Every time she shares a smile, a laugh, or anything - someone undoubtedly falls for her charm.”

Azul leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his chin in thought. Leona had a point - (Y/N) may have been his precious pearl, his soulmate, but she was also well liked by any and all who encountered her. Deuce, Ace, and Grim were just the stepping stones, Cater, Trey, and Riddle also fell in line with her presence and kind words - and even many of the Octavinelle dorm that worked alongside her in the lounge had gotten close with the magicless guest. However, the students of the Octavinelle dorm knew that Azul had marked (Y/N) as his - those that did not understand the process, such as the humans of Heartslabyul, would always be a threat to the octomer’s happiness; they might even go as far as to ask the headmage to allow (Y/N) to stay in their dorm!

Azul clenched his hand tighter at the thought, ‘No! She’s mine! I will not allow anyone to touch nor taint her perfection or soul.’

The headwarden of Octavinelle leaned forward, fingers crossing together as his elbows rested on the desk and his chin on his folded hands, “I’m willing to make a deal with you, Kingscholar.”

Leona arched a brow as Azul continued in a dark voice, “(Y/N) is very important to me, the other half of my soul - as you know. Her recent encounter with Riddle Rosehearts’ overblot has left me worried that she might attempt to leave Octavinelle. I know that I promised I would help her return home, but I need to keep her close by in order to do so. Soulmates are rare - whether they are humans, beastmen, faes, or mers - and they need to be kept close to each other. I do not want to put (Y/N) on a leash nor lock her up, but she is far too free for my liking. I will create the spell enhancement potion for you in exchange for your help with (Y/N)’s freedom.”

“What is it you have in mind?”

“... Merely a little scare that will show her how cruel and twisted this world can be.”

***

It was a few days later when the plan was set in motion.

You had been helping with the set up for the vendors surrounding the colosseum where the Spelldrive tournament was set to take place in a few days; setting up tents and tables, covering areas with cloths and helping move heavy objects. You wiped at your brow as a bit of sweat dribbled down before a cloth was pressed to your face.

“You’re working too hard,” the familiar voice of your employer pulled your attention to him, a smile appearing on your face as Azul’s lips quirked into a grin.

He was dressed in the headwarden’s dorm uniform - a black tuxedo with a white dress shirt and purple tie and the dorm’s scarf hanging loosely around his neck, a pale gray overcoat that hung on his shoulders, and a black fedora perched on his head. He was leaning against the silver tipped cane with the large octopus on the handle - the mage stone held securely between its silver tentacles. It was strange to see for someone who was working on setting things up, but Azul was in charge of overseeing everything and making sure everything was where it needed to be and making changes as needed, using maps and planograms as reference points. 

“Well, I always believed in the phrase ‘working hard or hardly working,’” you answer, taking the offered handkerchief and wiping away the sweat and grime from your features.

“Quite an interesting phrase,” Azul nodded, resting his hands on his hips, “Care to enlighten me on the meaning?”

You shrug, “I’m not really sure, honestly. People in my world use it for small talk or to point out a person’s laziness. For example, if someone wasn’t doing anything, someone might ask ‘working hard or hardly working?’”

Azul hummed in thought, “I suppose it is a good phrase to use - maybe it might actually get Floyd to do something for a change… however, as I’m sure you know, that eel will whatever whenever he wants to, regardless of what I tell him.”

I giggle, nodding in agreement, “Yes, and half the time he dumps his work on his twin - poor Jade.”

“Jade’s used to it,” Azul waved his hand dismissively, “but speaking of ‘dumping things onto others,’ I hate to ask this of you, but I do need you to do something for me.”

“Hmm? What is it, Azul?”

“I have an order waiting to be picked up at the school store. You’re familiar with Mr. S’s mystery shop, yes?”

You nod with a smile, “Yep, I’ve been there a few times.”

“Good, I need to go there and get the parcel. It has a few items that we’ll need for the Lounge and for the tournament. I would get it myself, but I have to keep things going here and Jade and Floyd are working on their own projects for the tournament. Would you be willing to go pick it up for me?”

“Why not have it delivered to the dorm?”

“It’s easier to travel to the store instead of going to the dorm and back. I had intended on getting it earlier, but it completely slipped my mind until now.”

You frowned a bit as something crawled up your back and tingled behind your head, a feeling that something didn’t sit right with the whole situation. However, Azul had slipped to your side as his arm came around your shoulders and pulled you close enough for you to smell the expensive cologne he always wore.

“Please, (Y/N), it’s very important that you do this for me. I’ll reward you, too, for your efforts - a drink of your choice from Mr. S’s shop or from the Mostro Lounge, on the house. Besides, you’ve been working so hard as of late that you need a little bit of a break. Take this as an opportunity to stretch your legs and cool down a bit.”

A refreshing beverage was starting to sound good. You had been working in the sun for a while like everyone else that was part of the setting up, never mind that your bottle of water had been drained a while ago and you had yet the opportunity to refill it. Perhaps just going to get the parcel for Azul as well as a small drink wouldn’t be so bad.

“Ok, do you mind if I finish up here?”

“Of course,” Azul pulled away before resting a hand on your head and messing your hair, “but as soon as you finish, please go and get the package. I need it as soon as possible.”

You nodded in understanding before turning back to your tasks as Azul walked away.

***

The parcel wasn’t big, thankfully, but it was awkward - an odd shape that looked spherical, but was flat with pointed edges. 

‘I wonder what’s on here?’ you shake the package gently as you walk away from Sam’s shop, heading back toward the colosseum. You discard the thought, tucking it under your arm and taking your time, enjoying the shade the trees provided and the gentle cool breeze of autumn ruffling the changing leaves of the school campus and pulling some off and away from their homes. The colors reminded you of home - how the trees in the parks would shift from greens to yellows, reds, and oranges before fading into dark browns. It was strange to see all the trees do the same thing here - it made you wonder if Twisted Wonderland celebrated holidays like your world did.

You were so busy admiring the colors and deep in thought that you didn’t see where you were going and ran into the back of a very large student.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” you smile apologetically, “I guess I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“Well, then, watch it,” the student growled.

“Hey man, look what she did to your jacket,” another student pointed at the sleeve of his uniform’s coat.

The charcoal gray coat that all of the students were required to wear was typically a heavy cotton and ridiculously hard to damage - however, low and behold, one of the pointed ends of Azul’s mystery order had put a decently sized tear in the student’s coat. The tear revealed the golden yellow of the student’s vest, traveling from his mid back to just the top of his waist. You covered your mouth in shock as the student took his jacket off and examined the tear, rage budding on his features.

“You stupid - look what you did!”

“I’m sorry! It was an accident -” you try to explain.

“Do you know how much this cost?” the student shook the coat at you, “Now I have to buy a whole new one!”

“Just make her pay for it,” another student spoke up, crossing his arms over his chest.

“P-Pay?”

“You damaged it, didn’t you? So, you’re the one who's going to buy me a new replacement.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any money…” you bit your lip as you felt your heart rate jump up, clutching Azul’s package close to you, “I-If you give me a moment, I’ll go talk to my employer and see-”

“Oh, no way,” the student grabbed the front of your borrowed button down shirt, “You’re going to pay for the jacket one way or another.”

Something within you snapped, you had tried to be reasonable with these three and had apologized for the trouble; however, it seemed now that you could only run and hope that you got to Azul before these guys did something to you. Your face hardened as you gave the student holding you a kick to the groin with your knee, the student releasing you as he groaned in pain at the sudden attack. Once you were out of his clutches, you took off in the opposite direction as the three students shouted at you and chased after.

You clutched the package close to your chest as you bolted into the school and down a corridor, staying close to the windows, hoping for someone to see you as you shouted out for help. Your cries echoed off the high ceiling, alerting a few students and staff members - but it seemed everyone elected to ignore your screams for help as the three pursuers gradually came closer and closer. 

You threw yourself around a corner which led out into the courtyard to throw them off.

Unfortunately, an uneven stone caught on your shoe, causing you to stumble forward and land on the ground, Azul’s package flying from your hands and landing with a sickening crack against the side of the wishing well. You tried to stand to move, but something heavy came down on your ankle, a loud snapping sound and a cry of agony echoing across the lawn. 

“You stupid bitch! All you had to do was pay up,” the student’s voice from earlier came in your ear as a large fist grabbed a handful of your (h/c) hair, pulling your head up to look into his rage filled eyes, “but nooo, you just had to kick me then run and tried getting help.”

“I think punishment is in order - after all, what can someone without magic and a broken ankle do now?”

Something heavy collided with your face as tears welled up from the punch, the pain coming again from the opposite side. Your hair was released before you felt a heavy boot collide with your stomach as you were kicked across the lawn like a football, landing a few feet away from the wishing well. You tried to sit up with a groan, your arm coming around to clutch your side as you spat out blood. Your entire body was shaking and was sore - you were beginning to wonder if they had hit any vital organs. A large hand came forward and grabbed at your hair again, pulling you up as you cried out.

“Piece of fuckin’ shit, you don’t know when to give up, do you?”

You bit your lip, fighting to hold onto consciousness and the tears that were slowly slipping from your eyes. You were scared and were still wishing beyond a doubt that someone would find you and stop these three from beating you up more. However, the wish was short lived when you were dropped to the ground, causing you to wince as more pain came from your side. 

“Time to say good-bye,” your eyes widened as you pulled your arms up toward your face, the student rearing his foot back with his aim clear in his dangerous eyes.

“Care to explain yourselves?” a familiar voice asked, stopping the students as their eyes widened in fear.

You peered out between your fingertips as the familiar figure of Azul came forward, his dorm overcoat fluttering behind him in the breeze as his walking cane tapped against the dirt. His face looked difficult to read as he came forward, eyes sharp and filled with rage.

“H-Headwarden Azul,” the student put his foot down and backed away from you, “W-We thought you were over by the colosseum.”

“I was - I was looking for my errand runner,” Azul’s gaze shifted between you and the three students before repeating, “Care to explain yourselves?”

“I-It’s nothing, honestly,” one of the students visibly shuddered.

“Y-yeah, just a m-misunderstanding is all!” the third student smiled wobbly.

“A misunderstanding, hm?” Azul cocked a brow, eyeing the students, before lifting his walking stick and tapping the head against his gloved palm like a baseball player would, “I will only ask one last time. What. Did. You. Do.”

“S-she destroyed my jacket!” the first student tried to explain, “She wouldn’t pay up for a replacement so-”

“So you decided to attack a defenseless angelfish who is under my protection?” Azul snickered, “How very foolish and pathetic…”

He snapped his fingers as Jade and Floyd appeared before the students. Azul came over and lifted you into his arms, “I’m taking her to the infirmary to get patched up - Jade, Floyd, have some fun.”

You ducked your head close to Azul’s chest, a headache slowly forming as he carried you away. You swallowed and began to open your mouth to speak, but Azul hushed you.

“Rest, (Y/N). You’re safe - there is nothing to be said nor to say. Just relax - I won’t let anything harm you.”

***

You must have fallen asleep because when you opened your eyes, you were in your room back in Octavinelle’s dorms. Azul was there, resting in a chair beside your bed with his arms folded over his chest and eyes closed. You shifted slightly, which caused the octomer to open his eyes - blinking rapidly before they fell on you as a smile crossed his face.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, standing and coming to sit beside you.

“Sore, tired,” you answered.

“That is typical after a fight,” Azul nodded, handing you a glass of water that had been perched on your bedside table, helping you to drink the cool liquid.

You smiled as he returned the glass to its spot before your face fell, “I’m so so sorry, Azul.”

“Whatever for, (Y/N)? You did nothing wrong.”

“Your package - you entrusted me to get it, but it probably got broken after that fight…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Azul’s fingertips curled under your chin, lifting it up to force you to look at him, “I’m not going to be concerned about a package that was damaged when you - someone I’ve been tasked to keep an eye on - was hurt severely. You’re very lucky. But, I do need to ask, what in the world happened? What did you do?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I… I accidentally ran into him because I was taking my time and admiring the changing colors of autumn, not paying attention to where I was going. When I ran into him, one of the parcel’s sharp points must’ve caught onto his coat and when I pulled away, it tore it.”

“NRC’s required suits are relatively expensive, so I can see why he was upset,” Azul nodded thoughtfully, “However, why did he attack you? You could’ve come to me and explained you needed money for a replacement jacket - ”

“I tried telling him that, but he wouldn’t listen and grabbed me. I kicked him so I could get away and was intending on going straight to you, but he…” you didn’t want to say anymore, the memory of what happened only a few hours ago was still painful in your mind.

Sensing your distress, Azul cooed to you, pulling you into his arms as his head landed on top of your head, hands running up and down your spine gently. You sniffled into his suit coat, hand coming up and gripping the back of his jacket, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort that was  Azul Ashengrotto.

“Shh… it’s alright, (Y/N)... you’re safe now,” Azul murmured, his voice soft and soothing in your ear, “I know, I know… I can only imagine how afraid you were…”

You nod as you sniffle more.

“It’s alright, though… I’m right here beside you. Those monsters can never touch you again… but you have to promise me something.”

You look up at him as his eyes shine with pain and… something else.

“This world is cruel and wicked, (Y/N),” Azul reached up, resting a gloved hand against your cheek and wiping away the tears that gathered in your eyes, “It’s only I you can trust in this place - Jade and Floyd as well - your only friends. We can’t protect you if you are away from our sight, so you must stay here in Octavinelle - where we can always be within an arm’s reach.”

“B-But, what about the others? Deuce? Ace? Grim? Surely they…”

“(Y/N)... did they come to help you during your darkest hour? Who was there when you were getting beaten by those mongrels?” Azul asked, eyes narrowing slightly, “I did not see Deuce or Ace. Nor did I see Grim or Trey… the twins did not see any of them nor Riddle or Cater either. Who came for you?”

“...You did.”

“Exactly,” Azul nodded, “I will always be there for you. Jade will always be there. Floyd, as strange as it may seem, will also always be there.”

You nod slowly, tucking yourself against his chest as you realize the dark truth. They had abandoned you, left you to fend for yourself while you were getting hurt - it was Azul that came and found you and it was Jade and Floyd that put the trio in their place. The three of them were the only ones who cared about it - showing you love and support through these last two months in this strange, dark, twisted world. Tears fell faster as you sniffled under the calming strokes of Azul’s fingertips.

If you had happened to look up at that point, you would have seen the octomer grinning devilishly down at you, his eyes of pale blue filled with possessive love and adoration. 

***

Azul ventured out later after you had fallen asleep with the twins in tow. The trio met with Leona in the lounge of Savanaclaw’s dorm, the octomer pulling out a vial of strange green liquid.

“As promised,” the headwarden of Octavinelle presented the vial to Leona, “for services well rendered.”

“This is it?” Leona snatched the vial, inspecting it closely, “I thought there’d be more.”

“Too much and the power will cause the user to overblot,” Jade explained, “We don’t want a repeat incident.”

Leona hummed in agreement, looking back toward the trio, “Speaking of which, what do you intend on doing since you hurt three of my best players with that little incident?”

“If anything, it’s compensation for us after what you did to three of our best players,” Azul let out a shrug, “but remember, Leona - there’s a much bigger fish to fry in the ocean that has nothing to do with me or the twins nor anyone in Octavinelle.”

Leona grumbled, turning his head, “Ruggie!”

The hyena appeared out of nowhere, landing next to Leona with a soft thump, “You called?”

“Take this,” Leona handed the vial to him, “On the day of the Tournament, you know what to do.”

Ruggie snickered with a nod.

“Well, we’ll be going,” Azul smiled, turning away, “pleasure doing business with you, Kingscholar.”

“And I hope that you live a long life with that soulmate of yours.”

“Oh, after that little incident - I doubt she’ll be going anywhere… at least for a while.” 

***

You do not comprehend (You are my one defender)

Why invite their calumny and consternation, stay in here

Be faithful to me, grateful to me

Do as I say, obey

And stay in here…

[kindlingkeen]

i'm curious: will you give Jason more friends in Asymmetrical Warfare? (also, if you can give him friends in comics canon, what sort will they be? thats always been a sore spot for me, that Bruce and the writers kept him so isolated that he doesnt have a lot of canon friends. no team. no consistent Crime Alley friends 😭)

Yes! There’s a whole crew of OCs that RH!Jason will interact with in Asymmetrical Warfare. In fact *checks notes*, at least two have already been mentioned by name. 😏

Developing Jason’s interactions in Crime Alley was part of my original plan for AW. I sort of got sidetracked by ninja!Jason and Carlos and the Grey Ghosts with Harm Reduction and TCItS, but we will make our way back to the Alley, I promise.

For comics canon Jason … that’s complicated. I actually love Jason and the Outlaws, especially the OG Outlaws, but the way they live in my head, not the crap Lobdell made canon. I’ve read a handful of fics portraying Jason as buddy buddy with some of the classic Gotham Rogues, like joining Wednesday Poker Night, etc., which I think is hysterical and pretty spot on. I also think Jason would have contacts and people he doesn’t call friends (but if you asked them, they would name him as one) from his LoA training days and his time as a merc. But we never really see that utilized in canon (that I’m aware of). And he would for sure be a fixture in the Alley community. As a character, I think Jay is primed to straddle multiple worlds, which I wish DC would take advantage rather than repeatedly trying to cram him back in with the batclan.

Thanks for the ask, anon! 🩵

[ask-nijiro-nanase]

IMPORTANT MOD POST

TW: mentions of scu/cide, de/th threats, light homophobia, hate talk and generally harsh language and themes please read at your own discretion (this was hastily put together because I have work in like ten minutes please ignore spelling errors im stressed)

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So this happened i guess, these are screenshots i took from the past few days of hate asks i have been receiving for the past week and a notification screenshot i got from around when i started receiving these, and a photo of an ask i got that I had sent to a friend joking about this person consistency of sending me a hate comment several times a day, every day. I made a strict rule for myself that id just delete hate asks and not let them bother me and I have been, at the start i simply deleted these asks and hoped this person (who i assume is the same person repeatedly sending in these using the anon feature) would get bored and leave me alone, which obviously they didn't /: i feel pretty crappy since i kept telling myself that i was just going to ignore and delete these anon asks over and over again but here i am, not ignoring them breaking my own rule, it's only been around five days of this which seems kinda pathetic ig at least it feels pathetic that i couldnt just ignore this person but i have been getting around anywhere from one to six asks a day like this depending on the day, when this first started i was getting a lot of them which I just deleted but as time has went on the asks have reduced to two or three a day but it hasnt stopped completely

over the time I have actually been receiving this I quickly noticed that these are baseless comments, something you could say to hate on pretty much anyone with a roleplay blog. There were no specifics, and also I don't use tumblr ver often so it's not like i really interact with people on here outside this blog, this person does not know me and I certainly don't know them i've kinda been stewing with my thoughts and overthinking on why I started receiving hat and maybe this is completely out there and a wild guess but this person could want attention on them, even if their anon they know that this post I'm making right now, is about them, or they might just want to start shit, honestly I could be completely off and maybe this person had some weird personal motive what do i know at this point???

with the time I've been giving myself thinking about this I have just gotten really in my head and I was very worried that maybe making a post and acknowledging this anon would almost be encouraging the behaviour? and kinda the only reason I'm actually talking about this now is because I'm going to be taking a small break, I am okay ofc, just think a small break would be good for me but this means I probably wont even be checking my ask box or really responding to any messages, comments, reblogs, I'm just going to step back for a little while and focus on other things in my life that need my attention Touching on a few topics from the last time this was an issue with a different blog, the character and I are minors, you're threatening a CHILD even if I wasn't under 18 these are still just horrible things to say to someone and I really really don't want this to be a common thing or a consistent issue because I like doing this, it's fun and I enjoy talking to people on here, anon or not, I'm sure a lot of the other people who have rp blogs do as well and people like this shouldn't ruin that for them, let people do what they want to do on here it isn't disrupting or hurting anything. I'm honestly just dumbfounded I guess to why this even happening? I don't thing I've done anything 'disgusting' 'gross' or otherwise wrong, i really don't want to turn anon off because I love talking to the really nice people who interact with me on anon and I don't want to ruin it for those incredibly kind people because of one person making some nasty comments

If the person who sent me those asks is reading this, please please know that this isn't the right way to get attention or feel better about anything, in general it does nothing good of any sort, it genuinely can hurt people and if you're doing it because you actually feel that way about roleplay blogs, just block those blogs it's really not that hard. Sending in hateful messages like that doesn't give you any sort of good attention, this is something serious and horrible to do and I pity you because something must have brought you to think this is just okay? normal? It's not it's pathetic and I hope that one day you can understand how much your words could affect the people around you. personally i like to think I'm not someone who can be super effected by words, especially online since I know people will be a lot harsher when hiding behind a screen, but to think you could've said this to someone who was genuinely really struggling with their mental health and could've taken your comments to heart is sickening, please reflect on yourself because this behaviour is not only childish but cruel.

--

and to anyone that sent in asks recently I'm super sorry I haven't been able to reply, I have a lot on my plate right now, super busy not only with mid-semester tests and projects coming up due but I have work on top of that and I really haven't found time to answer them, I quickly just wrote up this post so there are probably spelling errors but I'm way too burnt out to fix them right now have a good day and take care of yourself everyone I don't know when I plan on revisiting this blog but I shouldn't be away for too long, promise also sorry if this whole post is just me kind of rambling I just feel kinda lost and I don't even really know how to go about this, ive never done a rp blog before and i have never received hate on any of my blogs before i have no idea what im even doing at this point

[strawberrypinky]

fire and ice. [gortash x tav] - part one [of tyranny and chaos]

Enver had rarely been wrong about people throughout his rise to power, yet Elodie Liardon was the gift that kept on giving. She was his equal in every way & he would go through to great lengths to ensure she'd be at his side when the world became his.

Unfortunately for him, she wasn't as easily convinced.

A/N: I think it goes without saying that I don't support or endorse anything Gortash does in this story. He's a terrible person & evil. That said, he's hot & this is also my first time writing a villain as the main character - I am not yet sure where this story is going to head in certain aspects. The warnings are subject to change, so make sure to check them out as this story progresses. This story may feature non con down the line. Also, I'm not an expert in DnD lore – a lot of this is based on my own research & interpretations & I'm taking a few creative liberties with this story, e.g. the Council of Four. Canonically, the Council of Four consist of Ulder Ravengard (Wyll's father), Dillard Portyr, Belynne Stelmane and Thalamra Vanthampur. For the sake of this story, Vanthampur is replaced with Thamior Liardon aka our heroine's father. The age difference between Elodie and Enver is fairly large. She is about Wyll's age when the canon events start (24), whereas I headcanon Enver to be around 40 years old. This chapter takes place about five years before the canon events, making Elodie 19 and Enver 35. You can also read this story on Archive of Our Own This chapter serves as an introduction to both Elodie and Enver. Shoutout to @gufu-vire for giving me some serious dialogue inspiration & supporting this messy project from the start 💕 And of course shoutout to my platonic soulmate @legacygirlingreen. I couldn't do any of this without you girl 💕 Word Count: 7k

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine

Ordinarily, Enver enjoyed the splendour of the Upper City and the extravaganza of what the night brought. 

It wasn't that he particularly cared for exuberant soirees or merriment among the Patriars and Lords of Baldur's Gate, but because the ceaseless inebriation meant they all became cursory - revealing their Achilles Heel to Enver on a silver platter.

All that was left to do for him was shoot and observe as they crumpled beneath their fragmented invulnerability. 

He had long learned not to underestimate the value of thinly veiled threats and carefully curated negotiations. Enver's upbringing in Avernus had ensured at least that much. It had been a miserable existence at best, though the unyielding fists of Nubaldin and the narcissistic ornery of Raphael were better described as castigatory crucifixion, and for the longest time, he had been sure he'd succumb to it. The bloodied and blazing wastelands of Avernus were scarcely the sight any sane being would wish to wake up to, but for a near decade, Enver had been greeted by rivulets of lava and barren hills whenever he had opened his eyes to the unending torment of the House of Hope and while the lavish grandeur of Raphael's home would forever outshine most of the Patriars estates, it could never hide the insanity that transpired within its walls. An existence surrounded by infernal creatures was a fickle thing, rarely monotonous as the days had bled into one. Sleep had been a scarce rarity to come by as screams of tortured souls and beggars and the everlasting sonorousness of the Blood War penetrated even into the dungeons of the paradoxical House of Hope. It was madness incarnate, and Enver would nearly count himself as fortunate not to have gone mad.

Yet, in his most forlorn and reticent moments, there was a mocking voice in his head, a reminder that the abject terrors of Avernus had rendered him just as mad and just as hateful. His mother would have likely argued he had always been a hateful little wretch, having loathed his entire existence from the second he had taken his first breath after the agonising three-day labour he had "put her through".  Perhaps she had been right. He was so very full of it. 

Enver came to think of his hatred as his strength, his source of being and the flame that drove him forward - A testament to his unwavering determination and resilience.

When he had escaped Avernus, coughing up sulfur and ash, it was hatred which drove his acts. For as much as his hatred had grown like a malignant tumour in Raphael's clutches, it had been useless until his eyes flickered over the poverty-stricken streets of the Lower City. 

His hatred proved incredibly useful when he was penniless, toiling under the Zhentarim's thumb. It was a thankless venture, but it kept him off the streets.At the very least, it also provided a start to more extraordinary things. 

And it was his hatred which fuelled his Lord, the one God who deigned to answer when all others had long forsaken him. 

His mother once worshipped Gond and while his father never expressed favour for any of them, Enver had espied prayer to Waukeen more than once. Enver cared for neither. He hadn't cared for any of them – until Bane.

His God had sensed his hatred, strengthened it, and it served him exceptionally. For all their faults and arrogance, the Zhentarim had chosen their patron correctly. Bane was wholly malevolent —  hatred incarnate. Enver had long understood that the weak were culled and ruled by the strong, and Bane only strengthened Enver's resolve to establish his rightful place as the mighty. He had pledged to never be weak again. To never feel fear as he had when his parents had sold him, but to make others fear his might alone. He had pledged to never be the snotty, heaving child again, fearfully wailing for his parents as Nubaldin's fist hit him over and over again. Gone was the child Enver Flymm.

Through Bane, Enver Gortash was born.

And through him, Enver Gortash would rise like a phoenix from the ashes until the world was his, and his subjects would tremble in fear of his God as they were destined to be.

With Bane, it had been almost frighteningly easy to oust the Zhentarim from the weapon market to take control over the entirety of the Chinonthar Valley black market, but his hatred demanded more with each passing second. No matter which ventures Enver took upon, he succeeded – his loathing endless and his greed all-consuming. 

Perhaps in another life, Enver would have felt fulfilled, escaping from the Hells.

Perhaps in another life, he would have been content with leading the weapons trade.

In this life, he knew he'd never be. Sated, perhaps, when all bowed before his glorious might. But certainly never satisfied. 

The gentility of Baldur's Gate understood him well enough, even if they buried it deep beneath false charity and fascicle philanthropy. Beneath the masks they had carefully curated, they were all as spiteful as him. They all craved control over one another to assert themselves as the leaders they had made themselves out to be. Extravagant soirees, glittering jewels and extortionate gossip defined their haughty measuring of dicks. It was an ecosystem in and of itself, one which was all too easy to mould once the first step had been taken. It had taken a few years of sweet-talking, of extorting and of fucking them, but Enver was nothing if not patient. He was one of them now, and hardly anything else mattered but the next step. It was why he attended these lavish parties in the first place, even when his mood had been sour for the better part of the day.

The bitch queen's waveservants had distracted his sailors, and while Enver knew they hadn't half of his wits, he had expected they could think with their smooth brains instead of their minuscule dicks. A mistake on his part, really. As a result of their inadequacy his cargo had been seized and half his posse incarcerated. Far from uncommon in his line of work, but it was troublesome just the same. 

After an entire day of  negotiating  for their (undeserved) freedom, Enver had half a mind to drown himself in Arabellan Dry. Unfortunately for him, it was the night of  The Breaking,  and his attendance was crucial.  The Rah of Baldur's Gate was rarely  ever  found in a gathering this grand,  and it provided ample opportunity for Enver to further his ambitions.  

The moment he stepped through the grand, gilded doors of High Hall, he was enveloped by a cacophony of drunken laughter and chattering. The glittering melody of an orchestra filled the halls, a sickeningly joyous melody commemorating the arrival of spring. The air was perfumed with a fragrant blend of expensive cologne and plum prosecco. Enver had wrinkled his nose in distaste. The awful concoction was a true scourge these days. He could only hope some Baldur's Grape was available, too. Otherwise, this would be an arduous night.

There was a faint and underlying mustiness to the halls, the gallery illuminated by twinkling chandeliers casting an ethereal glow over the old halls. The decor was befitting the occasion — elegant pieces of silver and sage adorn the room's tables, ceilings, and elaborate mouldings. The flower arrangements were fragrant and intricate, likely having cost a fortune. It was opulent, borderline garish – utterly characteristic of the Upper City and its residents.

It was within this opulence Enver first saw her.

He had spent the better part of the night speaking to associates and... investors in his business ventures – a dance or two with a lady of noble birth in between. Their coquettish smiles were charming, though their personalities were as bland as a slice of stale bread. Enver never understood how some could be that dull and daft when they had endless funds at their disposal. If he were a better person, he'd pity them. Alas, he drowned his exasperation instead. He was far from drunk, but at the very least, the endless yapping had become tolerable.

His eyes wandered over the crowds, most delightfully inebriated, as Sir Provoss chewed his ear off about some venture Enver was invested in. He hardly listened; the Provoss family was near destitute and of no value to him. Within the sea of people, he noticed a glimpse of something silvery and shimmering, a horde of young ladies not far as they looked in the same direction and gossiped animatedly. Their gazes were full of disdain and haughtiness. Enver knew that hatred well - he had been on the receiving end of it long enough himself. His insatiable curiosity propelled him forward as he observed the rare display of disdain from the young noblewomen. With a quick excuse, he approached to catch a glimpse of a young elven woman standing beside Duke Dillard Portyr. The older man appeared to be engaged in a lively conversation with her.

Enver's first thought was that she was magnificent. Beautiful. Alluring.

Silvery locks had been intricately swept up in an updo, with carefully coiled curls framing her delicate features as they gleamed in the light. Her face, petite and exquisitely angular, was adorned with elegantly high cheekbones that gracefully complemented her ivory skin. Shell-pink lips were curled into a pleasant smile, and her eyes were such a striking green that Enver was almost disarmed for a second as he glanced at them. She wasn't tall, but she held herself with a regality Enver had scarcely seen from the most noble houses of Baldur's Gate.

It was easy to see why she was regarded with such disdain. These noblewomen who regarded her with such disdain could only hope to mimic a fraction of her beauty and breathtaking allure.

A pearly gown draped elegantly against her small figure; the delicate and intricate stitching along the hem only further enhanced her beauty. A Debutante, Enver noted. Rich by the looks of it, too.

A sly grin placed itself on his face.

Young, naive and likely wealthy beyond measure – Exactly the kind of woman he could play for a fool before he played her family for funds. It was a game he had played often. For all their money and education, these noblewomen all succumbed to the lie of love far too quickly. Disgracing might have been cruel, but their families were all too keen to pay hush money, so at least they'd appear virginal.

"Duke Portyr," Enver spieled, his voice full of false enthusiasm.

The Duke and the young woman beside him turned their faces to him.

"Sir Gortash," Portyr greeted him equally enthusiastically. He was the one Duke on the Council Enver had always been able to wrap around his finger. The man was anything but a genius. Ravengard had always dismissed him and Stelmane... well, whenever she was coherent enough to conduct meaningful business, she seemed to tolerate Enver, though apparently her business interests were in conflict with his.

The last of them, Duke Liardon, Enver had met merely three times. The man was reclusive, though popular and reminded Enver of the worst times of his life.

Enver quickly shook the memory of their first meeting from his mind. He could not afford to falter now.

"Wonderful to see you tonight," Enver cleared his throat.

"Likewise, likewise, my boy. Enjoying yourself?"

Enver internally rolled his eyes. He was not a boy. He was a Lord, an inventor, a trader - an instrument of tyranny. Yet he said, "Of course", with a smile on his face.

"Why, have you met Lady Elodie yet?" the demented Duke suddenly said, turning to the side as he pointed towards the true object of Enver's attention. The young woman looked at him intently, her gaze sharp and calculating. She was focused. Vigilant. Beneath her pleasant smile, she was assessing him as much as he had assessed her.

A surprise, albeit a pleasant one.

"I have not," Enver answered, his eyes not leaving hers.

The young woman held out her hand, as polite company would, and Enver placed a chaste kiss upon it.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Elodie."

"The pleasure is all mine, Sir Gortash." Her voice was gentle and as delicate and airy as she appeared. A melodic lilt, carried like a breeze - warm and kind. And yet there was a measurement to her words, a precise calculation, each word enunciated as precise as they were rhythmic.

"You see, Elodie, Sir Gortash is an excellent man for business," Duke Portyr spoke. "Most excellent, in fact."

"I'm certain he is," Elodie spoke, her vigilant eyes not leaving Envers. "Weaponry, I'm guessing?"

Enver had to swallow his astonishment. Whoever she was, she was far more keen than he had expected.

"Among other things," Enver confirmed with a nod. He did not appreciate her control, but her intelligence? Perhaps that was even more intriguing than her beauty. He could respect it even, but control? He would always love that above all.

"May I have your next dance?" He asked. A young debutante should be easily swayed by flirtatious advances, no matter how intelligent.

"I would be delighted."

"Excellent."

As genteel as ever, Enver held out his arm for her to take, her nimble fingers settling in the crook of his arm as he led her to the grand dancefloor. A lively waltz was playing, the cadence of the song joyful as people danced the night away around the odd couple. Enver could see various men glancing his way, their eyes full of envy. It made him smile deviously. A blind eunuch would probably still get a boner with a woman like that – she was oh so ravishing. And he had gotten her first. Jealousy was, in Enver's humble opinion, second to only hatred. If they envied him and what he had, they would hate him too. And in hatred, they'd bow to him and his Lord.

"Are you new to Baldur's Gate, Lady Elodie?" Enver asked as the pair began to waltz among the rest. "Forgive me if I am being bold, but a woman with your beauty would have long caught my eye."

She laughed - an earnest but musical sound. A blush placed itself on her cheeks.

As expected, Enver thought. The noblewomen all fell to the same folly.

"I was born in the Gate, Sir Gortash. I was... fortunate enough to travel Toril for a while. I returned recently."

"Indeed?" A well-travelled woman - certainly explained why she seemed far more educated than the rest of the lot. "Have you been enjoying your return to the city then?"

"Just so," she smiled at him as they spun around. His hand was firmly placed on her waist as he led her, warmth seeping through to his fingers. So close to her, he could smell her, and it was as exquisite as the rest of her. Luxurious notes of bergamot, freesia and mandarin assaulted his senses, with something sweet simmering beneath. Jasmine, perhaps? Whatever soap she used, it must have been expensive. Whoever her family was, they must have been at the top of the food chain.

"Though I hardly believe you asked me to dance to ask me about the Gate."

"You're quite perceptive, aren't you?"

"Just so," she grinned again, mischief flickering behind her eyes. "Or perhaps I have met your sort before."

Enver could not help the indignant snort that escaped him. No matter what she may have seen on her travels, he would bet his entire estate that she had never come across a soul like his.

"And what sort would that be, hm?" Enver teased. "I am but a partiar with a penchant for weaponry."

"Are you trying to insult your own intelligence or mine?" she quipped with a teasing lilt to her voice. "Your garments alone tell me you crave to be accepted as their own, and the shadows under your eyes are deep enough to let me know you hardly sleep. I don't suppose you call yourself an inventor too?"

Enver blinked in surprise, his mind failing him for a second as they continued to dance. This was a first. Never once before had he met a woman so stunningly beautiful and equally intelligent. A lethal combination if there ever was one. It was disarming.

"My garments?" he slowly spoke after a while. He wore something of equal luxury as she did - a bespoke suit, tailored to perfection of obsidian colour and embroidered with fine golden thread.

"You are compensating," she stated with a matter-of-fact voice. "It's a fine quality ensemble, but the embroidery is borderline garish. A man who grew up with abundant wealth would hardly wear this. You worked yourself to the wealth you have. I can only assume this means you are exceptionally smart as well."

If he hadn't been so impressed, Enver would have been livid. How dare you? He wanted to shout. He wasn't compensating. He had earned his right to wear finery, and he would be damned if he did not make full use of it. Instead, he only gave her a strained, near-mocking laugh. After all, she had correctly assumed he was smart.

"My my. You are full of surprises, aren't you?"

"I'd like to think so."

"Right then. Let me return the favour," Enver offered.

"By all means."

He resumed his assessment of her. The gears in his mind turned endlessly, solving endless puzzles as they presented themselves to him. She had surprised him tonight, a mistake he would not make again. Enver knew people - understood them and their wants before they understood themselves. An ability which had served him well. Her gaze, beneath the smile, remained calculating, a mask to conceal something deeper. She was a problem waiting to be solved, and Enver guessed no one ever had. His mind could fixate on problems like that — anything, really — and not let go. Controlling one element of the world meant a step closer to whole tyranny. It meant his certain keep from ruin. A bad habit, perhaps, that blinded him to other things that could harm him. A tendency towards obsession was hardwired into his brain and would have likely been his undoing if he hadn't learned to outsmart it.

"You crave to be known," Enver ventured to guess. Her breath hitched almost imperceivably, and Enver smirked. His gut had never failed him.

"You know you are beautiful. That men desire you. But you want to be known for who you are rather than your body. You crave for someone to uncover the deepest parts of your soul," his voice had reduced to a mere whisper now, blowing in her ear. "You want more, Elodie. Whether that someone is a challenge or an equal."

She blinked at him, her cheeks flushing now. Enver was sure that if he had placed a hand on her chest, he could have felt her heart beating erratically. She might have him figured out, but two could play that game. They had created a strange tableau that night in the ballroom: nefarious man, enigmatic woman, lavishly grandiose ballroom. It suggested a tale that could only end in tragedy or ruin, but Enver had always defied destiny. They could be good for each other.

"I can see why you are such a success," she chuckled, almost nervously.

"I simply exercise control in all things, Lady Elodie."

"Hm, one might think that's borderline tyrannical," she mused.

To a normal person, that might have been an insult, but to a man like Enver, who worshipped at the feet of Bane, it possibly was the best compliment he'd ever get.

"Perhaps," Enver chuckled. "But it serves me well."

"Careful, Sir Gortash," Elodie quipped. "You almost sound like a Banite."

Perceptive little thing, Enver wanted to laugh. He almost wished to inflict penance upon himself for having underestimated her so severely. She was beautiful, sure. But what worth held beauty in a woman if there were no brains to match? At best, she'd be a nice fuck, but never an equal or better yet - a wife. Enver would never dare to sully his line with offspring from a daft hussy - not that Bane would allow him to, either. His God demanded perfection; Elodie might just have been that. She was, quite frankly, up to his standards. Perhaps the woman in his arms wasn't vicious or hateful like him, but she was machiavellian and astute, qualities Enver knew Bane valued.

He tried to imagine her clad in obsidian silk or the deepest emerald wool money could buy, warped in Bane's embrace, and Enver decided he liked it. She suited his God, was possibly even worthy of his blessing if she could understand the tranquillity his tyranny would bring and follow in his name. Enver wagered she could, especially if someone could convince her of its worth and who better to convince her than him? Enver silently wondered how big of a challenge she would be, for her innate craving to be known was something he could give her better than any other man ever could, yet she did not appear as a woman who liked to be tamed. The longer Enver held her, the more he recognised that beneath the elegance and allure, there was something wild and untamable - something feral.

She could be his equal in tyranny - an invaluable asset.

"Bane is a God like any other, Lady Elodie. He rewards those willing to make sacrifices in the name of power. Sacrifices which not everyone will make." Enver mused. Her immediate face of contempt amused him. "You're not a fan, I take it?"

"Hardly," she pursed her lips. "I fail to see both the value and the right in tyranny."

"A strong word for what some might consider the natural order. The weak have always been ruled by the strong few."

"And yet nothing constitutes that right," Elodie countered, devotion in her eyes. "None have the right to decide another's fate or to enact punishment, no matter if by the hand of a God or the sheer circumstance of fortune. Nothing does."

Altruism - how much Enver detested it. He supposed it was a marker of her young age, for no matter how well-travelled she was, her brain would lack in experience and instead make up for it in idealism and heroism. He supposed he had thought like that himself once before Nubaldin and Raphael had beat it out of him until nothing but hate and the certainty that absolutism would always rule those too feeble for it. There would always be a power above them, ruling with an iron fist. Enver had long understood it was better to be that power, to wield it, instead of succumbing to it.

He was confident Elodie would learn that lesson, too.

"And how would you propose to rule chaos then, hm?"

"Chaos?" Her voice did not hide her incredulity.

"Chaos," Enver confirmed. "No control, no law, no gods, no government at all. Where do you go from there? What sort of agreement is necessary if everyone is to live in peace? What social contract is needed so that everyone is taken care of?"

She mulled over it for a while, the gears in her head turning as the pair spun around the ballroom. She seemed to genuinely consider his question, though Enver did not know where her mind strayed. Would it come to the same conclusion he had long accepted? That in chaos, each mortal, with their own individual agenda, could only cause friction, conflict and war? Humanity was a flaw, and in the chaos of Avernus was the first time he saw it undressed. In turmoil, civilisation disappeared; every august manner and act was stripped away in the blink of an eye. Chaos would always reveal everything a person was - that humanity's greatest flaw was humanity itself. A peaceful existence could only exist if they bowed to a collective agenda - his agenda, preferably - and when finally they'd bow to him in fear, perhaps they might find a semblance of peace.

"You are a curious man, Sir Gortash," Elodie hummed after a while. "I don't think I have ever met an enigma such as you."

"I will take that as a compliment," Enver chuckled as he spun her around once again.

The melody of the song came to its grand finale, every couple spinning as they prepared for it to end. Glittering twirls and heaving breaths accompanied the soaring crescendo before, after long, the orchestra had quieted, and each couple bowed and curtsied in respect before either gathering themselves for another dance or leaving the floor altogether. Enver gently led Elodie away, hoping to perhaps continue their conversation over some wine. It was rare a person caught his interest beyond business - the last was a Bhaalspawn and he still wasn't entirely sure how much he could trust them. After all, their masters were not only at odds, but they had been created for nothing but slaughter, and Enver wasn't asinine enough to pretend he was the exception.

"It's getting rather late," Eloide mused.

"You've yet to answer my question," Enver mentioned with faux casualty, though internally, he was burning with curiosity.

"Delayed gratification is not denial, Sir Gortash," a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "I shall bid you good night."

Gracefully, she spun around, shimmering in the glowing light before she disappeared into the crowds, leaving Enver Gortash speechless for perhaps the first time in his life.

The second time Enver saw Elodie, it had been in the same corridors of High Hall, though the decor had long been removed, and the orchestra was no longer enchanting Patriars. Parliament was supposed to be in session later that day, and Enver had been summoned by Duke Portyr to discuss further commerce strategies as the Tymanther-Unther War continued to disrupt the trade between the nations. It was a tiresome issue, and if someone would have asked him his opinion, Enver would have bombed the Tymanthan armies a long time ago. The old empire of Unther was far from his favourite places in Faerûn, but their gold and iron were unfortunately far too valuable to lose in the long run.

Alas, Duke Ravengard had outright rejected to provide any militia, which had upped the price of metals exponentially - much to Enver's ire.

Porytr was a dimwitted oaf he had always been able to control, but unfortunately, the Duke was simply that. A Duke. The commander of the Flaming Fist on his side would have been much preferable for Enver, but it was merely a matter of time before Ravengard perished, whether that be in battle or due to an uprising among the Gate's citizens. Gorion's Ward, the hero who had saved the realm from Bhaal once, had not been spared - a mere commander of the Flaming Fist was replaced within a breath. Enver had considered assassination more than once; the Bhaalspawn turned his personal assassin would have been more than up for it, possibly even knelt at his feet for allowing such carnage and chaos to be sown. However, Bhaal and Bane's truce was fragile enough - further straining their relationship by using Bhaal's greatest design would have been an insult to the deity Enver was not keen to make. He had made a great deal of enemies; he did not need to add the God of Murder to the list.

As Enver sashayed around the Ducal Palace piano tunes accompanied his steps. Curious, he thought. There was nary a day the pianos were used, unless the halls were used for lavish parties and as far as Enver knew, there were none held anytime soon. As his luck would have it the sound carried itself from somewhere near the ducal offices, thus Enver indulged his curiosity and followed the melody as it carried itself through the musty halls.

He was both bewildered and pleased when he saw Elodie again.

The young woman had hardly left his mind in the aftermath of the Breaking, and yet not a single person had spotted her since. Enver had half a mind to ask Porytr for the young maiden's full name, for the oaf seemed to at least know who she was, which could not be said the rest of the Partriars. She was a complete mystery, and mysteries had, regrettably, a way of driving people utterly mad. No matter how well Enver tried to outsmart his own humanity, he, too, fell folly to the same desire of uncovering the truth.

He observed her for a while; watched as her nimble fingers glided over the piano keys. He had recognised the tune then - a Cormanthyran hymn from times long ago, first come into creation as the Seven Citadels' War had ended and Elves had rejoiced of peace returning to their lands. Enver did not know the name, for the Elvish tongue was foreign to him, but he knew of it as an Ode to Freedom, heroism and eventual triumph as people came together to be good. Enver silently wondered if she had known he would be there or if she had chosen the piece by chance (even if he did not believe that himself).

"You are full of surprises, Lady Elodie," Enver revealed his presence as the final note echoed within the halls.

If she had been beautiful in the dim and glimmering light of the Breaking, Enver supposed she was ethereal as the sun illuminated her skin and her hair, cascading down in gentle waves to the middle of her back shimmered in the golden light.

"Oloth elgg ssussun," the elvish sounded like a prayer spilt from her lips. "Have you any idea what that means, Sir Gortash?"

"I'm afraid I speak no elvish," he divulged, curiously awaiting where this conversation would lead.

"Darkness drowns out light," she smiled as she turned to face him. "You asked how I would govern chaos."

So she had not forgotten - Enver was almost giddy as he awaited her answer with feigned lassitude. He had damn near longed to hear her answer after she had disappeared from his clutches.

"I have indeed," he chuckled.

"My mother saw the piano as a means to control the chaos in me," the young woman began to muse. "She had hoped that dexterous fingers would curb the less dexterous approach I had to... other things."

The gears in Enver's mind began turning rapidly again as he assessed the vexing smile on her lips. She was toying with him, possibly even enjoying laying out the puzzle pieces to her innermost self. He could venture to guess what she was; the feral nature that had always simmered just beneath was the answer all along.

"You're a Sorcerer, aren't you?"

She nodded in confirmation, her smile widening a fraction on her face.

"My parents were rather frightened when I set fire to my maid's skirts at the mere age of eight," a small chuckle escaped her. "I was uncontrolled. Chaos incarnate, one might say. And you know what only amplified the chaos?"

"I suppose you are about to enlighten me." He was intrigued now, clinging onto her words as if each and every one was vitally important.

"Control. The more my parents tried to control it - the further they tried to suppress what I was - the worse the chaos became. People are a lot like that, you know?" she hummed appreciatively, head somewhere between there and the clouds. She was staring into nowhere, a faraway look in her eyes as if remembering times long past. Enver supposed she did.

"Either way," she sighed after a few seconds, "control, tyranny, is not the answer to ensure peace."

"Then what is?" Enver asked, slowly stepping closer. He wasn't entirely sure why he had asked - he knew full well he would neither approve the answer nor even think it sensical. But, perhaps, she had been just impressive enough for him to bother and young enough to believe he could influence her. Change her. For all the men and women he had bedded, betrayed and deceived, none had ever offered a semblance of a challenge or semi-equal wit, and it was both pleasant and addicting to have it in her.

"There isn't a need to govern chaos, much less to suppress it," she smiled gently. "There is beauty in it, and it is part of us human beings as much as it is of our greatest problems and most eloquent solutions."

Enver suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and laugh in her face. There was no beauty in chaos or much less revelry, and while he agreed that chaos was innately human, he would never dare describe it as beautiful. Chaos did not provide any eloquent solutions but caused endless problems, which in turn only caused suffering. Her youthful, altruistic nature was nearly adorable - how delightful it would be for him to turn it around. He did savour a challenge, after all.

"I see," Enver nodded. "So your idea of a government is for it to do nothing."

"No," Elodie frowned. "Besides, you -"

Their conversation was cut short as the grand oak doors leading to the ducal offices opened, and Duke Portyr and Duke Liardon stepped out with grim looks and hastened steps. Whatever previous meetings they had been in - and Enver assumed it was trade-related, as most things were these days - it likely wasn't fruitful or congenial, which meant he would have to amplify his charms if he wanted to convince the oaf Portyr of the vision he held for the Tymanther-Unther War. He scrutinised the two men as they prattled in hushed voices, tension clear on their faces as both looked near furious at the other, the vexation bubbling just beneath the surface. A peculiar sight, Enver noted, yet he continued to observe, hoping the already visible tension would translate itself into something further - as it always threatened to.

From the handful of encounters Enver had with Duke Thamior Liardon, he had gathered that the man was as stoic as can be, deep brown eyes constantly assessing and calculating as he carefully observed those around him. For an elf, the man was rather tall and imposing, and while his rather charitable ventures made him a somewhat popular fellow among Baldurians, Duke Liardon was possibly the single person in this plane Enver could never quite make sense of. He knew the Duke had engaged in ignoble dealings and immoral trades, the man's history strangely interwoven with Enver's own and yet neither had ever mentioned it to the other. To know of the truth, to be conscious of another reality while dancing around carefully constructed tales had created a strange diorama between the men who otherwise did not engage with each other, though Enver anticipated the day he finally put Duke Liardon in his rightful place.

To repudiate morality while laying claim to it was one thing, though Enver did not care for liars. But a man who dealt with devils, no matter how beloved a politician, was no man he would protect when he inevitably rose above them. It was yet another process of arduous and ultimate subtlety in his ambition, his destiny, to be absolute.

"Papa," the girl next to him cleared her throat before she took assured steps towards Duke Liardon.

The two Dukes finally ceased their conversation, quick, easy and strained smiles placing themselves on their faces as Elodie approached them. Papa? Enver wondered for a brief second, though he wished to self-flagellate himself when he finally saw it. Of course - how could he have not seen it before?

He had felt the presence of nobility, understood she was wealthy beyond most people's means - she even looked like him. It was uncanny now that the girl stood in front of her father.

Enver Gortash, nee Flymm, rarely ever got excited, but that particular moment was something else entirely. Enver watched with sharp eyes as perhaps the most significant opportunity in his life arose - a culmination of years of hard work, careful planning and, in this case, sheer dumb luck.

Elodie - no longer an elusive noblewoman but the daughter of a Duke.

"Duke Portyr, Duke Liardon," Enver greeted the men. "How wonderful to see you."

"Likewise, Gortash," Thamior nodded curtly, his voice clipped as he mustered Enver. "I wasn't aware we were expecting company in the ducal offices today."

"I invited him," Portyr retorted. "We were to discuss some ... commerce strategies."

"Ah," the elven Duke nodded. "I see."

"I wasn't aware you were active in the political landscape, Sir Gortash," Elodie cut in, a curious look on her face as she retrenched this new information.

Before Enver could answer her, her father cut in, an incredulous "You know him?" spilling from the collected Duke's lips. It was the first time Enver had seen the barest hint of emotion on the man's face. He stored that information away immediately. Knowing the Achilles Heel of another was always valuable, particularly for a Duke who shamelessly bargained with infernal beings without so much as an ounce of contrition. Not that Enver was any better.

"We met at the Breaking," Enver explained with a small nod.

"I actually introduced them," Portyr exclaimed happily. "They were rather dashing on the dancefloor if I do say so myself." Enver nearly snorted as he glanced at the barest hint of displeasure and ire on Thamior Liardon's face. Achilles Heel, indeed.

"I wasn't aware matchmaking was an area of your expertise, Dillard."

The Duke laughed dismissively, the sound echoing through the grand halls of the ancient halls. "Your daughter has grown up," he remarked with a hint of both condescension and amusement.

Enver was confident he would have been privy to a fight between the Dukes then and there had Elodie not intervened with a chagrin giggle.

"Be that as it may, Mama has asked you to join her at Figaro's before the council is in session later today. Something along the lines of your doublet needing to be fixed?"  

The Duke begrudgingly complied, uttering a quick "Until later" before he scurried towards the exit, a chamberlain and guard rushing to follow him before Enver was left in the company of Elodie and Duke Portyr, who conveniently excused himself with a cheeky wink. Enver carefully quelled the instinct to be overzealous, opting instead to maintain his characteristic veneer of stoicism. However, beneath his near-impenetrable façade, the prospect of engaging with her further was a discrete thrill, an emotion as perplexing as it was involuntary.

"I see my father is no votary of yours," Elodie broke the silence.

Enver barked out a laugh. If only she knew. Her father was a man shrouded in more secrecy than most Baldurian's would ever know, hardly the paragon of justice some had made him out to be and even less the devout Lathander disciple his Cleric wife had allegedly turned him into. But if they had all accepted the lie, Thamior Liardon had imposed on them – if all his records and annals told the same tale – the lies passed into the narrative and became truth. It was yet another testament to humanity's flaws, for most could be made to accept the most flagrant violations of reality, simply swallowing everything they were given without a second thought. How much they could thrive under leadership like his...

"We do not see eye to eye," Enver cryptically replied after a while. One day, he would use the lack of her knowledge against her, but in that singular moment, it had been far more sensical to omit the truth in favour of her trust.

"I'm not surprised," Elodie mused. "He's no fan of control."

"A sentiment you see to share," Enver retorted.

"I do," she nodded resolutely. "Control and power are not a means, Sir Gortash. They are an end. Tyranny itself is deeply rooted in the chaos you desperately seek to eliminate."

"I beg to differ."

"Do you?" Elodie tilted her head. "One does not establish tyranny in order to safeguard people from chaos; one sows it to establish tyranny. Sarevok himself used chaos as a means to establish his own."

"Sarevok was a Bhaalspawn," Enver interjected, befuddled. "Bhaal's scions never sought anything but conflict. It was quite literally bred into them." - and still was, he nearly said, but the girl likely lived under the belief that any Bhaalspawn had long perished.

"And yet he sowed enough chaos to nearly be crowned a Duke of this city, which would have enabled his own tyrannical rule and end in Bhaal's name." She hummed for a second as if deep in thought. "Faith is both an anchor and an excellent catalyst for indoctrination, you know."

"Aren't your parents known Lathander worshippers?" Enver asked incredulously. Such words were hardly those of a faithful.

"I am too," Elodie confessed. "And yet my point stands. How often have wars been fought in the names of gods, if only to establish something purportedly better? How often has faith been used to establish means of control, yet only chaos was left in its wake?"

Clever as she was, Enver had begun to see her point, though he certainly did not agree with her conclusion. While Sarevok's folly had been nought but chaos and destruction, it was hardly reflective of faith but more a reflection of the god. A god such as his Lord Bane would bring eternal peace, though yes, also fear, yet the brief struggle would culminate in peace if only people would see and bend to the whim of his dreaded Lord. Obedience alone was not enough unless there was suffering for a brief second in which human minds were torn apart and put together again in the shapes of his own choosing.

Enver surmised, with a grin, that Elodie was correct.

Chaos was, if only briefly, a vital aspect to assured peace and if a collective god would sow it upon all until they bend to his will - an imposture of manufactured chaos, which may have been unreal yet vitally important. His mind twisted and turned endlessly, rapidly altering and revising as Enver realised just how useful chaos could be if only treaded with trepidation, contempt, adulation, and orgiastic triumph.

"I see your point," he eventually grinned. "After all, the faithful will do anything in the name of their god."

[gaslightgatekeepgirlbosscombat]

Group H, Round 4, Poll 2:

Propaganda under the cut

Li Lianhua/Li Xiangyi

All men do is lie. He's a "miracle physician" (citation needed) who lies himself out of every situation he's in. Didn't so much as fake his death, rather let everyone believe he was dead and then lie to their face when asked about who he really is. Convinces everyone he's just a weak doctor who doesn't know any martial arts but has a cunning mind, despite the fact that he literally used to be the head of the martial arts world before being poisoned. Somehow nearly everyone he meets is in love with him. He's everything to me

#THE LI LIANHUA PROPAGANDA LEFT OUT HIM DRUGGING PEOPLE MULTIPLE TIMES #TO AVOID (POTENTIALLY) GETTING ASKED ABOUT THE ISSUES HE IS CHOOSING TO LOOK AWAY FROM AND NOT SEE #ALSO THE TIME SOMEONE FIGURED OUT HIS TRUE IDENTITY BUT THEN THEY FELL UNCONSCIOUS #AND HE GOT AWAY WITH IT BY TELLING THEM THEY HAD BEEN HALLUCINATING WHEN THEY WOKE UP

#if he doesn’t lie thirty-seven times a day he will die #you could show him a dna test proving he is li xiangyi and he’d deny it to your face

#HE ONCE SAYS TO A CHARACTER THAT ‘HE NEVER LIES’ TO GET OUT OF A SITUATION AND THAT WAS A BIG FAT LIE #TELLS A CHARACTER AN INTRICATE STORY ABOUT FINDING HIS OWN CORPSE ON THE BEACH COMPLETE WITH PHYSICAL EVIDENCE AND ALL JUST SO THE CHARACTER #REACHES THE CONCLUSION THAT HES DEAD #HE GATEKEEPS THE VIEWER FROM KNOWING HIS FULL STORY ON RELIABLE TERMS AND YOU HAVE TO PIECE IT TOGETHER PAINSTAKINGLY

#continuously lies to the person he calls his jianghu bff to evade his questions regarding his identity #puts on a mask and defends the bff in fights#then shows up later like #🥺 wow that was so scary glad you were here to protect me! i have no martial arts skills #evades arrest by pretending like being shoved against a wall broke his ribs #'🥺 i'm just a little guy and you're so strong you'd better check out my ribs' #and then throws knockout powder at him

Ianthe Tridentarius

She is trying so hard to be the main character by lying and manipulating her sister, her cavalier, her mentor, her ?love interests? (Spoiler???) And also god. Not sure how it's working out for her but she does love to lie and manipulate

Worstie Ianthe is the DEFINITION of gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. She is one of a set of necromancer twins that are the heirs to their houses rule. Except wait, only she is a necromancer and she has spent their entire lives doing necromancy for the both of them. She is constantly mean to their cavalier, Naberius, who she occasionally nibbles on like a chew toy, before eventually killing and eating him to ascend to sainthood. She goes to gods spaceship with another woman who ascended to sainthood who she has a crush on, this other woman is like…. Both incredibly mentally unwell and also haunted by at least 211 ghosts. Ianthes method of flirting with her? Gaslighting her about the corpse that keeps moving around and hiding under her bed. For no real reason tbh. She is clearly plotting to overthrow god, and at the moment that consists of her manipulating him while he’s too sad about his long term partners betraying him and subsequently exploding to really care. She dresses in terrible outfits and makes soup by burning onions to the bottom of a pot, putting meat in and some vegetables and then it doesn’t taste like anything so she puts in a few teaspoons of salt so it tastes like a few teaspoons of salt. She had her crush amputate her arm and regrow her a new one out of bone and it’s one of the horniest things I’ve read in my life.

"Gaslight = told her lobotomized (she helped), schizophrenic girlobsession that there was no corpse under their bed, even tho there totally was. Gatekeep = girl did NOT share the secret to god-like ascension. She kept that shit to herself until it was time to eat her boytoy, and by then everyone knew already. Girlboss = she has a non-necromancer twin sister, and literally Everyone thinks they r both necromancers because Ianthe is so good at it. She reverse engineered ascending to the aforementioned ascension without even completing any of the supplementary tasks. She held her own in a fight against a 10k year old lyctor. She becomes the figurehead of her entire empire. "

She uses a man as a chewtoy in the first book, literally gaslights the protagonist of the second book about a corpse, and elder-abuses God when he gets depressed in the third book. Nobody is doing it like her.

Dives headfirst with no regrets while basically laughing and covered in blood into murdering her cavalier once she realizes what the gothic locked room mystery/competition leads to while everyone else is questioning it, helps perform lobotomy on harrow so she doesn't remember the person she loves, manipulates everyone to get to the top

idk just everything about her

her relationship with her sister is incredibly Bad, she fosters codependency and views Corona(the sister) as an extension of herself. This does not stop her from keeping up the con that Corona actually has magic (She doesn't, it was always just Ianthe) for 22ish years and every single person who interacts with them falls for it. She killed a man against his will (most dying for this purpose specifically go willingly) and she consumed him and she will be burning his soul for eternity. She's completely repulsive and still somehow incredibly hot.

she takes advantage of the fact that the main character is prone to hallucinations. at one point she gaslights the mc into believing that the corpse under her bed isn't real just because she can. she reverse engineered a set of very complex trials on her own without anyone realizing she had the skills to complete them normally. she's also babysat god through his drunk and pathetic era.

[annikin-annotates]

Family Ties Part 3

Hello my darlings, long time no see! Sorry for the delayed release of this chapter, University took up all of my time from the start till the very end of term (as it does). But I'm finally on break, which means for the next few weeks I can start putting out some oneshots and more chapters for both My Baldurs Gate III fics as well as my HotD fics. So keep an eye out! Love you all, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Also! Let me know if you would like to be added to any taglists!

Word Count: 4,347

Content Warning: Blood, Minor character death. 

Juniper’s Pov

The air of Baldur’s Gate was acrid compared to the air of the grove where she grew up. While yes, it was not the most delightful smell - it was an animal smell, fresh grass and the earthiness of mud underfoot, but it smelled like home. Unlike the combination of sour ale, the contents of someone's stomach heaved up on the sidewalk and strong perfume. Juniper scrunched her nose and pressed onward, following the crumpled map of the city she managed to snatch from an unsuspecting tourist - she hoped they hadn’t gotten too lost without it. 

She followed the map to the best of her abilities through the winding streets, hitting a few dead ends before finally reaching the Upper City. High stone walls and menacing wrought iron gates separated the Upper and Lower parts of the city; Juniper rolled her eyes, how original. There were guards positioned at either side of the gate checking everyone who went through the gate, turning away those who didn’t belong. 

She took a slow, steadying breath before pressing forward once more, surely it wouldn’t be too hard to slip in with a crowd, to take advantage of the chaos that seemed to be daily life here. She had managed to slip through the gates with a crowd of tieflings, the sigh of relief that came out of her mouth was immediately sucked into her mouth again when a gruff voice called out to her “Hey! You there, girl!”.

She cringed, her tail dipping between her legs, she turned to face the guard behind her with a smile. “Yes?” she answered, batting her eyelashes. Despite her tail hiding between her legs like the traitor it was, she kept a relaxed posture; she lifted her chin to meet the guards eyes, not that she could see much through the ridiculous helmet he wore.  

He held out his hand expectantly. “I need to see your travel pass to be in the Upper City,” he huffed, her stomach dropped - she didn’t have a travel pass. No matter, she had a foolproof plan that always worked on sentries, just by combining two things they fear most: a woman’s hysteria and a sick family member. 

Tears immediately began to prick at the corners of her eyes, glazing over like a babbling brook over a mossy stone. “I’m so sorry! M-My mother is very sick a-a-and none of the apothecaries in the Lower City carry the herb I need to make her a drought to ease her cough and I thought that -” she rambled.

He held a hand up, seemingly very uncomfortable about the crying tiefling that stood in front of him. “Alright - fine, just get what you need and get out of here,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, shooing her off with a wave of his large hand. 

“Oh thank you sir, you are too kind,” she said as she frantically wiped the crocodile tears from her face before turning on her heels to head further into the city. She smirked to herself, looking at her surroundings, tears worked every time. Now her only mission was to get herself safely to her uncle Wyll’s estate - he wasn’t really her uncle, just as Halsin wasn’t really her father. But they had been the only consistent familial presence she had ever known, Halsin had taken her in after Wyll brought her to him. 

Her mother had given her up, for the greater good they had told her, she thought that it was horseshit but who was she to question the ideals of a mother who didn’t want her. They had not kept her ancestry a secret from her either, though she was sure she would have figured it out sooner or later, you know - with the ever present gnawing hunger for blood and all. But she made a promise to herself that she would never drink the blood of anything, animal or otherwise. 

She shook the bitter thought from her head; it was a glorious day, she was in a city with lots of places to explore and only a few hours to do it all in. She shifted her worn leather satchel towards the front of her, there were bound to be other sticky fingered outlanders in the city and she was not about to fall for any tricks. 

Juniper’s first call was to find an Inn to spend the night, a good night’s rest and a chance to bathe would do her good, the last thing she wanted was to darken Wyll’s doorstep looking like a gutter rat. It hadn’t taken her long to find an inn, between following the map and catching the eyes of a few fellow Tieflings who had told her she looked rather lost. They pointed her in the direction of an inn called The Countess, a stunning building with a mahogany facade and plants that hung from large pots, with ferns draping over the edges. 

The inside was bursting with chatter, laughter bubbling through the room like frothing ale over the side of a pint glass. It was the opposite of the grove, which was almost always reverent in its silence, only ever broken by the baying of animals. She cringed as a man who had clearly over indulged gave an offkey rendition of the Bitch Queen’s shanties, at least oxen could hold a tune. 

She managed to cross through the crowd with a never ending stream of excuse me’s and coming through’s. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a small gap at the bar, squeezing herself between two drunken patrons flagging the tired looking barmaid down with a polite smile. She gave her a nod motioning to stay where she was as she finished pouring a tankard of ale that was almost overflowing. 

“A druid in these parts? What can I do you for?” she asked, a slender brow quirked, wiping her hands on the rag tucked into her worn leather belt. She was young, no older than she was, her wild hair was a deep shade of mahogany, dark except for when it caught the light, casting a warm mulberry tinted halo around her face. Grey eyes stared at her, thick lashes made her eyes look sultry, plump lips quirked into a kind smile. Her shoulders were broad but she was full of curves and softness, both strong and inviting in equal parts.  

Juniper smiled back at her. “Is it that obvious?” she sighed as she leaned her arm on the counter, tail flicking behind her. “I was wondering if you had any rooms available?” she continued, eyes flicking to the barmaids lips for the briefest of moments before refocusing on her stormy eyes, the heat from her cheeks creeping up the tips of her ears. 

Her laugh was melodical, like bird song in early spring. “I’ll tell you what, a room just opened up. I’ll let you have it for half the price - only because you looked like a lost puppy walking in here,” she replied, reaching under the counter for a key and pushing it across the counter towards her.  

A grin spread across Juniper’s face, dimples on her cheeks standing proud, “Thank you, I really do appreciate it. Is there anything I can do to help cover the rest of the cost?” 

The woman looked taken aback for a moment, as if she wasn’t used to being offered help so freely. She thought for a moment, a hand on her hip, before raising her pointer finger into the air  “Actually! There's a rather vicious bluejay that keeps swooping patrons on the back terrace. Do you think you could give it a stern talking to?” she asked, her eyebrows raised, a light hearted challenge.

“I can certainly try!” Juniper nodded, her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes, the sharpness of her fangs digging into the plumpness of the inside of her lip. She followed the woman, first to her room to set down her pack and then to the back terrace to meet the disgruntled bird. 

—

It was no surprise to her that she found herself out wandering the streets, her head turned towards the sky; the amount of stars were halved thanks to the light pollution of all the street lamps. She could see clouds rolling in from the sea, lightning crackling through the sky illuminating the menacing shade of green the clouds had turned.

She thought that some air would clear her head and slake the ravenous beast that made home beneath her skin. It had taken three hearty portions of stew to take the edge off, only for it to come back with such force it had her doubling over in agony. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and her head swam with overlapping thoughts - none of which she could make out; it was like looking at a reflection in an angry tide. 

It felt as though bramble had taken root in her stomach, poking and prodding with each step she took. Her skin shimmered with a thin sheen of sweat, each breath she took was pure torture. Even now, out in the open, she could smell the life blood humming in every creature she passed, each pulsing vein made her mouth salivate. At least out in the wilds she could get away, she was used to peacefully wandering off for a stroll. There was no escape here, everywhere she turned there were more people - and more blood ripe for the taking. 

It was agony.

She was no stranger to the bouts of bloodlust, she was not stupid enough to not have coping mechanisms but she couldn’t think, couldn’t focus - gods, she could barely breathe. Her hands shook with every step she took, it was overwhelming in its intensity. Perhaps she could try it, just once. Nobody would ever know. The thought alone was enough to open the flood gates to the darkest part of herself, sending her into a torrent of guilt.  

She had sworn off blood and vowed that she would never become a bloodthirsty beast like her parents. And now of all times for her mind to be consumed with that insatiable hunger when she needed to not draw attention was infuriating. To go back on the oath she made to herself  would surely mean the end of things - Halsin and Wyll’s good graces among them. 

But then again, she had been so good all these years, she deserved this - she deserved a taste of what life could give. Juniper shook her head, no, absolutely not. She could handle this, she would be fine. Her vow was not up for discussion nor was it up for debate; especially not with the ugliest part of her. She turned back towards the Inn; hopefully a cold soak and rest would stave off the worst of it, all will be well in the morning, as it usually was. 

It was close to the wee hours of the morning when she returned to the Inn, the light significantly dimmer than when she left. The young woman from earlier - Elona- was placing the last of the wooden chairs atop perfectly polished table tops. Their eyes caught each other before Juniper had a chance to sneak up stairs to her room, Juniper fought the urge to cower like a pet that had been caught in the act. 

Elona waved her over, plopping down into one of the booths that lined the mahogany walls, “I would ask if you would like something to eat, but you polished off the last of the stew before you left.” Her voice made Juniper’s heart flutter and her stomach twist in a way she had never felt before; she was no stranger to crushes, but this was more than that - far more. 

Juniper smiled as she made her way behind the bar, pinching a bottle of wine that she hoped wouldn’t taste like vinegar alongside two glasses. She set the bottle and two glasses down on the table before sitting across from her, creating a barrier between them. The wine was sweet and the conversation flowed easily between them; they spoke about all things, where they grew up, their families and what they aspired to be when they were younger. 

It was when Elona shimmied into Juniper’s side of the booth that the conversation changed, Elona was mere inches away from her now. Juniper swallowed thickly, she was quite literally backed against a wall, it wasn’t as if she didn’t think Elona was pretty, she was stunning - the very image of a goddess, destined to bring her to ruin, she was dangerous to be around. 

Something stirred in the very depths of her stomach, like a beast reawakening from its slumber; stretching its claws and yawing, displaying its jagged maw. Juniper found herself not in control of her own body as she took both of Elona’s hands in her own, motioning for her to slide out of the booth. From there Juniper took the lead, guiding her up the stairs to her room and closing the door behind them. 

They descended upon each other the moment they were alone; Juniper placed delicate kisses along the column of Elona’s throat, feeling her pulse point flutter rapidly against her lips. A purr rumbled deep within Juniper’s chest at the gasp she elicited from Elona, as she backed her towards the bed, pulling away from her when she reached the edge. “Do you want this?” Juniper asked, her heart beating in her throat.

“More than anything,” Elona replied, her stormy grey eyes looking up at Juniper through thick lashes. If Elona was a tempest that sent ships and crew sailing into their demise, she was a willing captain, if it meant that she would place her hands upon her to drag her under. Juniper placed Elona onto the covers gently, straddling her hips. She began to place open mouthed kisses along her jawline and down the column of her throat, a searing trail left in her wake. 

The way Elona’s breath hitched in her throat as her hands twisted into the front of Juniper’s shirt only served to spurn her on, grazing the flats of her teeth over Elona’s pulse point. She squealed in delight, Juniper couldn’t disguise the airy laughter that bubbled from her as she placed another kiss to her pulse point before pausing.

Juniper sat back on her haunches, fingertips ghosting along the scooped neckline of Elona’s shirt, her thumb stilling over the thrumming artery. “Are you alright, Juniper?” Elona asked, her brows furrowed with worry “If you don’t want -” 

Juniper cut her off, swallowing thickly. “Of course I do, do you trust me?” Juniper asked her, the back of her hand tracing her jawline as Elona nodded. She brushed Elonas dark hair over her shoulder, fanning out in a dark halo behind her. Juniper’s fingertips grazed her soft skin, leaving sparks in their wake. Juniper placed an open mouthed kiss at the junction of Elona’s neck and shoulder, she tilted her head to the side to allow Juniper better access, her eyes fluttering closed at the proximity of her. 

Juniper’s jade eyes were blown wide with lust as she took in the scent of her; ginger, chamomile and smoke. Gods she wanted her, needed her like one needs air, without her she would suffocate - crushed under the weight of her own want. She needed to feel every part of her, to touch her, gods to taste her. 

Without warning, Juniper ran the flat of her tongue across the pulse point of Elona’s neck, a muffled cry tore through Elona as the sharpness of Juniper’s fangs sank into her flesh. She withdrew her fangs and ran her tongue across the wounds repeatedly, keeping the flow of blood constant. What flooded her mouth was more akin to ambrosia; liquid life, searing in its heat and near endless in its flow. 

Elona started to struggle against her, her pulse starting to slow and Juniper realised that she couldn’t pull herself away. In fact, she was actively ignoring Elona’s futile attempts to stop her. She pulled her weak form closer to her chest, her clawed hand entwined in her hair to cradle her head. 

All she could hear was that beast inside of her crying out for more as it lapped at the ichor sliding down her throat. It was when she realised that Elona had stopped struggling against her entirely that she found the strength to pull herself away - to ground herself back in reality.

And what a harsh reality she came back to. 

She gasped, tumbling from the bed. Elona laid before her, deathly pale, her eyes dulled; there was no rise and fall of her chest, no shine to her hair; nothing. Elona was dead. And Juniper had killed her, there would forever be innocent blood on her hands, “I’m sorry, oh gods - Elona I’m so sorry, what have I done?” she weeped. 

Guilt wracked her body, its talons piercing into the very sinews of her heart. This was all her fault, she had led this poor, poor woman to her death; she extinguished a light that this world needed - all for the sake of her own selfishness. She regretted ever setting foot in this gods-damned hellspit, she would pack her belongings and return to the grove; hopefully in a decade she would forget that this mess ever happened. 

She looked back to Elona’s body, lifeless and bloodstained, she couldn’t leave her like that; legs half hanging off the bed frame. Juniper pulled herself up off the floor “I know that you can’t hear me, but I’m going to make you more comfortable,” she whispered, voice wavering as she lifted her legs onto the bed. She continued on like that, telling Elona what she was doing as she repositioned her and cleaned her wounds, apologies tumbled from her lips like prayers. 

Juniper replaced her sullied shirt with a fresh one from her pack, tossing the dirty one; alongside the bloody cloths into the hearth on the main floor of the tap room, watching them burn. Only after a few minutes of solemn silence did she decide to press forward, opening the mahogany door to the quiet streets of the city. 

She shifted her pack to sit more comfortably on her shoulder, eyes trained on the puddles on the street, maybe one might be deep enough to swallow me whole and save me from my suffering. She had been too preoccupied with the metaphorical blood that stained her hands to notice movement behind her, only the pain that bloomed from her temple as the world faded from focus. 

The world came into focus again, she was staring at marble floors; she tried to crane her neck to look at anything else in the room but her head began to swim. Cool hands gripped her knees tightly, a bony shoulder digging into her stomach. Her fingers came into contact with what she assumed was blood as she touched her temple, throbbing pain reverberating through her skull, the world grew dark once more.

The only time she drank blood is when she murders an innocent woman and is subsequently murdered in retaliation, swift justice she’d say. 

Her heart was a buoy that leapt into her throat and sank into the depths of her stomach with each wave of consciousness she crested. Her attacker unceremoniously dumped her from the bony confines of his shoulder, allowing her to collide with the marble tiles hard enough that she was sure would leave a bruise. Juniper let out a groan as she began to push herself onto her hand and knees; only to have a foot make contact with the base of her spine, sending her splaying out onto the floor once more. So much for Baldurian hospitality.  

Juniper could hear the shuffling of footsteps switching to clacking as they met the marble tile that she had found herself well acquainted with. The air became thick as if she was trying to separate the oxygen from within water; it put her whole body on edge as she froze, willing herself to meld into the tile.  

“And what might this be?” A male voice asked, the phrasing of the question was light, but his tone had an edge that sent shivers down her spine. Though she did her best to internalise her panic, to keep her heartbeat steady and not allow the fear that was trying its best to claw its way through her insides. She could get out of this, she just needed to think. 

She could feel how her abductor's leg tensed as he spoke, like an animal preparing to be struck; it made her stomach churn; she was not safe here. “An unattended Spawn from another vampire lord, your Highness. I found it wandering the streets not too far from the Countess,” he responded, his voice wavering in fear. It? Your Highness? Wherever she was, she was a particularly unwelcome interloper.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Let me look at it,” ‘his Highness’ urged, his tone exasperated and clearly not interested. Juniper was rather tired of being referred to as an ‘it’, she had opened her mouth to issue the lot of them a signature witty reply. But she was pulled to her feet abruptly, letting out a disgruntled yelp as her captors' nails dug painfully into her scalp. 

Her eyes were met with the sight of two people, a slender male elf with eyes reminiscent of rubies; or the deep crimson of spilt blood. And a Tiefling woman that stood a few paces behind him, she had dark hair that fell in curls to her waist and the most decadent dress she had ever seen. There was something that she couldn’t place with her, an emotion in her eyes that clouded them like fog in a valley. 

The silver haired elf scrunched his nose at Juniper, as if her very presence was an assault on his senses; she fought the urge to roll her eyes. Bile began clawing its way up her throat, the longer she looked at him the more she began to lose control of her senses; her tail curling to hide between her legs. She had begun to compile what she would say to them, that her father was a powerful vampire lord that would lay waste to the lot of them if a single hair on her head was harmed. 

His mouth opened to speak, only to be cut short by glass smashing on marble, remnants of crystal twinkling across the floor like stardust. His head snapped to the woman behind him, poised to reprimand her, when he stopped himself; his features softening. He turned back to Juniper - more specifically the servant that had her in an ironclad grip, expression shifting into an incandescent rage by the likes she had never seen before. 

“Release her this instant,” Astarion hissed to the man behind her, who released her so quickly it sent her fumbling forward towards the tiles, only for her to be caught at the last moment by Astarion. “I sincerely apologise my dear -” He was about halfway through his sentence before she was pulled into a hug so tight it forced the air from her lungs, it was over before she even had a chance to process it.

Astarion looked to the Tiefling, who was now nervously smoothing her hands down the fine brocade of her dress, and then back to her, a well practised smile on his lips. “Forgive my wife, you remind her of someone we lost a long time ago,” he said softly, his eyes were also leagues away; whoever they lost must have been dear to the both of them. 

He motioned for two servants as they emerged from the very shadows of the room. A woman guided his wife who was now sobbing out of the large room they were in, while the other stopped a few paces from Juniper, his hands neatly folded behind his back. 

Silence hung between them for a moment, before he began to speak again. “How about you stay here for the night, it's rather unsafe for a young woman to be out alone so late, even for a blood thirsty one such as yourself,” his eyes flickered with something akin to delight. Her stomach twisted painfully; something was very very wrong here, and she had no intentions on finding out what it was.

“It’s fine, truly. I have lodgings at The Countess, my friend will surely be looking for me by now,” she lied, well, not a lie exactly - a half truth she supposed; she did have lodgings at The Countess and people would be looking for her come morning. 

He shook his head. “Then your friend would be truly thankful that you found lodgings here for the night,” he argued, the beginnings of a smirk toying at the corner of his lips, he had won and he knew it. The other servant inched toward her; she realised that the statement was less of an offer and more an order, and she was severely out ranked, she had no choice but to concede.  

She gave him a tight lipped smile and a curt nod. “Of course, my lord,” she replied, acquiescing to the servant who now led her back through the foyer and up the grand staircase. His grip on her arm was vice-like, as if he was a cat and she was the fat, tasty mouse he had caught for dinner.

Her room was grand, a bed large enough for at least three people to comfortably lay in, a small ensuite with a stunning claw foot tub in the centre of the room. One thing that did stick out as rather strange to her was that there were no windows in the room, the only entry point was the door to the room itself. Juniper walked back over to the door knob and turned it a little, only to be met with the stiff jiggle of a locked door. 

Fuck.

Thank you for reading! Please take a moment to comment or reblog my work, it brightens my day and makes sure other people see it!

[being-worthy]

Possible fic/Sneak peek of Aspiring Talent story - Vote!

So, there's a dream that keeps repeating and I wrote the most intense part and would be open to fully writing it if people like the story.

I want to be more consistent and write more, please bear with me as English is not my first language and I've got a high OCD and always want it to be perfect.

Additionally, I also wanted to take the opportunity to share with you all that I've started a Ko-fi page and if you enjoy my content and want to support me, I’d be so grateful if you could check out my Ko-fi page. Your support helps me keep creating and sharing stories I’m passionate about. Every little bit means the world to me, and I appreciate each and every one of you! Thank you for being such an amazing community! 💖

Without further ado, here is a sneak peek.

In a dimly lit bedroom set, an actor and an actress prepare to shoot a sensual scene. Despite being complete polar opposites as they rehearse, their chemistry ignites, blurring the lines between acting and true love.

Wearing only a man’s shirt that went up to above my knees with the first few buttons undone giving a good view of my cleavage and a pair of black silk panties underneath, I was standing like this in front of my co-star, Hugh Jackman.

He is such a sweet, handsome, and funny guy and every woman (and man) would be happy to call them theirs, myself included.

We were rehearsing a scene happening in my character's bedroom with him sitting on the bed, legs wide open with his hands on his lap, slightly out of breath, and looking all dishevelled with his hair facing in all directions. The first three buttons of his shirt open, tie loose, giving me a view of his chest hair and looking oh so delicious while I was standing right between his legs.

His pupils dilated gazing directly into my eyes, if I looked closely I could see the reflection of him staring into my eyes through them. Gods, those eyes of his, I could get lost in them forever, they hold so much love, kindness, and talent, how I wish he’d look at me with that same look outside of the set. Focus, girl! I can’t screw this up, I don’t think I could handle redoing this scene.

“I know you feel it too and you will never know if you don’t give us a chance, James,” I whispered taking softly hold of his left hand, tracing the veins protruding with my right one and placing it above my bare right knee. My hand was still on his, and, oh so slowly, I slid it further up my thigh, under the shirt I was wearing, making sure he passed my panties and felt his fingertips lightly grazing them and saw him swallow hard.

Suddenly, it was too hot in the room, him brushing them with his fingers was not part of the script. I bit my lower lip unwittingly when I saw his Adam’s apple bobbing and the sensation of his hands on me; how I would love to trace his neck and fingers with my tongue while straddling his lap.

I kept moving his hand further up all the while we were holding eye contact, never wavering from each other's gaze, going over my stomach, one of the most insecure areas of my body, and stopped his hand right under the swell of my right breast.

While his hand sat there on my skin, I didn’t perceive any disgust from him, but the complete opposite, especially when I felt him trailing the lower part of my breast.

“CUT!”

We didn’t hear the director’s words nor break apart as our eyes were still interlocked and only came back to reality once people started to get between to us and one of them handed me a robe to put on. What the hell just happened?!

Comments or reblogs are always appreciated! Do not copy or translate my work plz!

[sxrensxngwrites]

The Inner Circle Crushing on Someone from a Different Background -- Part Two

this request comes from anon, who asks: 'Head canons for the main dragon age squard (if you feel up to it of course!!!!) About them crushing on someone from a different background (example: cullen and someone rich)'

I ended up splitting this up because I got carried away... my bad. If you want any of these to be revisited or you want me to go into more detail, feel free to shoot me another ask! The same can be said if you want DA characters from different games.

Part One (Blackwall, Cassandra, Cole) Part Two (Cullen, Dorian, The Iron Bull) Part Three (Josephine, Leliana, Sera)

CULLEN:

Cullen’s family had many mouths to feed, but they never tried to make their kids feel like they were missing out on anything. However, as Cullen got older he began to realize how difficult it was for his parents. This led him to joining the Templars; working in the order was a very consistently paying job that gave him places to sleep, so he could very easily send money back to his family. Even after he leaves the Templars and joins the Inquisition, he finds himself double checking his finances out of habit. The Inquisition is tighter on money and resources in the beginning, so suddenly he’s back to watching every coin that comes into his possession.

Enter the object of his affection: a person who never had to worry about money ever before. They’re likely related to some nobility, whether it be from Ferelden or otherwise. Money had been a given, so they’re very quick to buy drinks for the whole Inner Circle or give out money to the villagers of Haven. Cullen admires their generosity, but it hurts him greatly to watch them treat their money with such irreverence. He wishes it didn’t bother him as much as it does. As Cullen begins to catch feelings, the formalities aren’t what trips up their relationship. In fact, they have little to no meaning after a month or so of knowing each other. 

However, now that they’re a full member of the Inquisition and the strains of the job are becoming more apparent, money is becoming an issue. Their family isn’t exactly pleased that they’ve spent family money on the ragtag Inquisition–it being seen as sacrilege at that point. So, their family cuts them off, forcing them to learn how to spend their resources wisely. As sad as it is for them (and disappointing for the Inquisition to be losing such an important donor), Cullen is somewhat relieved. Now he doesn’t have to watch them throw away their money as if it has no value.

They come together over it actually, Cullen giving sound advice on rationing their money and picking up jobs to help around Haven. Although it frustrated him initially, he finds their eagerness to learn rather endearing. They spend regular time together, Cullen teaching what he’s picked up about finances and them telling stories of their upbringing. They begin to understand one another better, and Cullen is sure that he’s smitten. Eventually–when money and war isn’t the primary focus of either of their lives–they decide to stay together after the Breach has been dealt with and pool their remaining savings together. 

DORIAN:

Growing up as a son of a Tevinter Magister, Dorian had quite a lot of resources at his beck and call. However, he never let that deter his outlook on other people. There might be some disagreements here and there, but Dorian never let it dictate who he kept in his company–especially after he left Tevinter for Ferelden and Orlais.

Most everyone in Dorian’s early life was a mage, so it wasn’t unsurprising to him that he would be attracted to a mage when he ran away further south. However, his new romantic interest was unlike any Tevinter Mage. After the fall of many of the Ferelden circles, it was only natural that they’d be deemed an apostate. They had to travel light, but it wasn’t like they ever had much to their name to begin with. That had been taken away before they even made it to the Circle. 

Dorian, while he doesn’t hide his standing, also doesn’t wave it in his peers’ faces to make them feel less than. His companion, on the other hand, is still afraid of announcing their mage status in the post-circle world of Ferelden. Upon their meeting, however, the two connect over their different relationships with magic. They share anecdotes, stories, and theories, ultimately bonding over a shared academic interest. Dorian sees them as an equal from the beginning.

Everything goes swimmingly until it becomes apparent how much sway Dorian’s family has in Tevinter. Still afraid of being found by any remaining Templars, his crush is cautious of any sort of fame. Even if it includes being involved with the son of a Tevinter Magister. It likely separates the two for a while, but then they each remember what brought them together in the first place: the possibilities of what could be in the future. Abandoning fear, the two rejoin together, seeking new avenues for each of them to progress their spheres of influences.

THE IRON BULL:

The Iron Bull was raised inside the Qun, following it up until it came in the way of him and The Chargers. Even then, it greatly influences how he interacts with others. For Bull, romantic and intimate relationships are a need to be fulfilled rather than a connection between people. 

Most cultures outside of the Qun think the opposite of intimacy: that it’s a special connection between people rather than a need to be fulfilled. Bull has met many people who think this way, but even then most of them are willing for their relationship to be short-lived. However, Bull meets a special someone that he has no intent of romancing: they’re a diplomatic bard in the court of Orlais with a soft spot for the romantic. 

They initially meet when the Bull’s Chargers are stationed in Orlais. Bull’s interest in them is initially surface level–a few interactions that will eventually fizzle out as he moves on to someone else. Little does he know, they’re very incapable of something as mild as a fling. So a friendship begins, Bull being filled in on all the Orlesian gossip by his new friend. A physical relationship might even begin, but Bull’s new “friend” is ever the romantic, and is severely disappointed when it doesn’t turn into a love to last all ages. When the Chargers are called away on business, they part ways. 

They’re reunited once again when Leliana and Josephine call an old friend to the Inquisition–and Bull is met with a broken heart he left back in Orlais. Of course, they’re very aware that the misunderstanding is their fault, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Over time, they learn to forgive Bull and see him as a friend. After everything is said and done, I believe Bull reframes the way he’s the world–now having chosen his friends over the Ben-Hassrath. Once he’s had some time to reassess who he really is and who he wants, he might let the romantic have another try.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

[leafofkudzu]

Hello again! I did say I was going to consider hosting more art parties if last month’s test run went well and, well, it did, so here I am again! Come one come all to [VS] Verdant Shield’s second ever monthly art party, this time with an expanded reach!

For those not in the loop from last month, what is an art party exactly? Well, they’re common occurrences in the Final Fantasy XIV community where artists of all kinds get together to chat, hang out, and create together! If a certain character catches your eye, you make some art of them in whatever way suits your fancy, then during or after the party post it under the tag for that party so others know where to look and spread the love around via reblogs/retweets/etc! I said it last time and it’ll always bear repeating - the ‘goal’ of attending an art party is not to be drawn, but to draw others, and share with the community! Attendees from last month’s party compared it to art jams, people watching, or attending a life drawing class with people you actually like. For more tangible examples, you can check back through the tag I intend to use for all of these monthly events - #VSArtParty - to see what previous partygoers have made!

I’m a lot less antsy about hosting these events now that I have a baseline, so much so that I want to involve those of you over on EU servers as well by hosting two rounds of parties, first on EU and then NA! However, I’ll still be keeping the squad(s) private and out of LFG to deter party-crashers, especially since this time we’ll be in a more well-known and easily-accessible location as the party moves Eastward into the Grove!

Check under the cut for details on how the event(s) will be laid out and how to reach the party location!

Welcome to the expanded details! First of all, the Garden of Dawn is the Grove’s worst-kept secret so I’d be surprised if you didn’t already know about it, but just in case, here’s a tl;dr on how to get there from Ronan’s Waypoint (aka the bottom floor of the Grove, you can drop down from Upper Commons Waypoint or Reckoner’s Waypoint to get to this starting point too):

Head North along the path towards the House of Aife PoI (not shown in the picture but you’ll see it on your map).

Take a hard left at said PoI and yeet yourself into this tiny pool that has a secret tunnelllll~

You’re here! It’s bigger than it looks in this picture but still relatively small, however I’ve attended events hosted here and can confirm that it can fit a lot of people, and also from last month I learned we don’t actually need a ton of space since we all squish up together to see each other anyway. However, if this space gets too crowded we’ll breach containment and relocate to a more public spot - very likely Starbower Nursery aka the little multi-level tavern on the South side of the map (it has its own PoI so it’s easy to spot)! If we do I’ll make sure to put the updated location in the squad message!

Okay! With that out of the way let’s get to the real important stuff.

This month’s event will consist of two separate art parties, each 3 hours long (though you’re welcome to stay later if you like), with a 1hr break in between so people interested in attending both can stretch, get snacks, etc etc.

The first party will be on EU servers and begin at 9pm Central European Time (that’s 3pm Eastern Standard Time for NA folks). I’ll be hosting it on my EU alt, so to join you can either whisper Aemryn of Dusk for an invite or type ‘/sqjoin aemryn of dusk’ in chat to join automatically!

The second party will be on NA servers and begin at 7pm Eastern Standard Time (that’s 1am Central European Time for any sleepless EU folks). This one will be hosted on my main account, and you can join by either whispering Kirslyn for an invite or typing ‘/sqjoin kirslyn’ in chat to auto-join!

Like I mentioned before the cut, we’ll be using the same tag for both of these parties as we did for last month’s - #VSArtParty - and I think that’ll be the one we’ll continue to use in the future for these! There’s no spaces so that it can be used on Twitter as well if you’re still over there!

That’s it for now! Expect to see this reblogged a few times between now and then, and I hope to see you all there for another fun time! ♥

[seungkwansphd]

cast me in a better light

pairing: musical actor!Joshua x pit orchestra member!YN word count: 5.9k synopsis: Joshua is a great singer and actor, you can admit that, but would it kill him to have some rhythm? The Christmas musical really will fail if you can't figure out how to read his cues, but he's wondering if you'll ever realize that he's sending you a different kind of signal, too. genre/themes: romance, fluff, grumpy/sunshine dynamic, allusions to a bad breakup, hallmarkian romance, lol.

a/n: this is part of the @svthub snowventeen collab! you should check out all of the other wonderful writers & stories! also these are the songs i drew inspo & lyrics from (don't sue me) griff - on foot in front of the other ariana grande - santa tell me (slow & reverb)

You balled your free hand into a fist as you turned back in your sheet music for what felt like the thirteenth time. It was your third rehearsal with the cast for this year’s Christmas musical and you were wondering if you could get away with strangling the lead, Joshua Hong, with your bare hands. You weren’t even working on anything difficult, but this man could not seem to sneak through a back alley with any sort of consistent rhythm pattern, so consequently you had nothing to follow. Your beats on the high toms kept missing his footsteps and everyone’s patience was wearing thin.

“Joshua, YN?” Janet cleared their throat, “Can you two spend some time together working on this? We need to either decide on a set tempo or work out some visual cues so that YN can follow your footsteps. We do need to move on for today though.”

“Of course!” Joshua smiled brightly at the orchestra conductor, “We’ll make time!” he gestured theatrically in a way that made you want to throw your drumsticks at him.

“Great,” Janet nodded at him before looking back down at the score, “Alright, let’s continue,” they lifted their baton, leading the pit through the second number.

“You still want to do dinner?” you asked Tetiana as she packed up her violin and bow.

“Yes! Although…,” she trailed off, pointing to something behind you.

Furrowing your brows, you turned slowly to see your one and only leading man, Joshua Hong. It was highly unusual to see cast members down in the pit.

“Hey YN! Thought I’d get your number so we can coordinate a few practices to nail down the walks,” he smiled at you.

“Ah sure,” you nodded. None of this would be necessary if he could just walk like a human person.

“Do you have regular days that work well? Or what do you think?”

“To be honest, my schedule is pretty irregular,” you answered honestly, thinking through the various jobs that you had lined up over the next couple of weeks. “I have a chunk of time free on Thursday between two and three pm?”

“That should work! I’ll text you to confirm,” he nodded, running through his own schedule in his head.

“Sounds good,” you raised your eyebrows at him, “Don’t get lost on the way out,” you couldn’t help but tease.

Joshua either didn’t hear you or didn’t respond as he walked backstage, but Tetiana laughed at your joke, which was enough to satisfy you.

“Ready to eat?” you asked her with a smile.

“Yes,” she laughed heartily. She wondered just how difficult of a time Joshua was in for during these one on one sessions.

❄❄❄

“Why can’t we just do a simple 2/4 or 4/4 pace when you walk from stage left to the alley?” you asked, slightly irritated already.

“Because it’s not what the character would do,” Joshua rebutted, as if what he was saying made any sense. “And depending on the show, the atmosphere may be different, so I want to leave it open for interpretation!”

“I-,” you cut yourself off, remembering your conductor’s words. “Okay, well then can we implement some sort of physical cue? Like a shoulder movement or something? I need to be able to follow you,” you suggested.

“Can you just watch how I move and see if there are any physical cues that I'm already doing?”

“Sure,” you sighed, gesturing for him to do his walk.

You watched him closely, eyes traveling from his shoulders to his fingertips and then back up to his torso, hoping to pick out some sort of movement that corresponded to his footsteps. You’d never seen Joshua at such a close distance before. From the pit, he was little more than the rough outline of a person, but up close you were forced to acknowledge how handsome he was. As you watched him move, you also realized that Joshua was much broader than you would’ve guessed. You were surprised when the thought hit you. Things were certainly easier when you watched him from a distance.

“Well?” he asked, turning his head to look at you after completing his exaggerated walk.

“Sorry, can you do it again?” you asked, shaking your head briefly to clear your thoughts.

“Yes,” he nodded, moving to start again.

You crossed your arms, tongue dragging across your teeth as you regarded him. Without even having to look, Joshua could feel your eyes rake up and down his figure as he walked and walked and walked. Your eyes burned into him intently and for someone who was a professional performer, he was surprised to find himself somehow nervous. Your tongue toyed with your left canine until you finally noticed that there was this little thing that he did with his chin just before he took a step. You might be able to work with that.

“Okay, I think I got something!” you clapped your hands together in relief, moving to the keyboard that was set up across the room from your drumset. “Okay, can we take it from here?” your fingers played out the closing melody that directly preceded his walk.

“Oh, yes?” Joshua did a double take. The way your fingers ran across the keys took him by surprise. “You play piano as well?”

“I’m a professional musician,” you wrinkled your nose up at him, “I can play several instruments.”

“Ah, of course,” he flushed.

You keyed out the melody again, leading him into his walk. He waited for you to cross the room to pick up your drumsticks before he started walking and you half-managed to follow his footsteps this time.

“That was better,” you shrugged, “We’ll need to keep working at it though,” you shrugged, eyeing the clock. You had to leave soon if you wanted to make it to band rehearsal on time.

“Oh right, you had to stop at three,” Joshua nodded, following your line of sight.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. The hour had passed quickly, most of it spent bickering, unfortunately. “When are you free next?”

“Saturday is pretty open as of now,” you suggested. “Would ten-thirty in the morning work?”

“Yes!”

“Would you mind actually meeting at my house? I have band practice right before and it would be nice not to have to drive here and set everything up.”

“Oh, sure I guess? What’s the address?”

“I’ll text you,” you smiled gratefully as you packed your drumsticks away, “Have a good day!”

❄❄❄

Joshua double checked the address before he got out of his car. He was halfway to the porch when the sound of music out back caught his ear. He was quite early and figured it wouldn’t do any harm to check it out. As he got closer to the source, the sounds of keyboard, drumset, and guitar became more individually discernible and these ensemble sounds worked together to complement the lead vocalist. Was this the band rehearsal that you had been referring to?

Joshua finally rounded the corner of the house to face a detached garage where the band was rehearsing. His eyes went to the drumset first, where he expected to see you. The large man seated behind the bass drum, however, was decidedly not you and so his eyes flitted around until they landed on the person standing behind the keyboard. You were playing and singing with such joy on your face and it made him stop in his tracks.

“I didn't think I'd get back up I didn't think I'd be alright again You know it's easy when you're young, bounce back and whatever You just bounce back like it never happened”

You sang with your eyes closed, fingers gliding across the keyboard with an ease that startled Joshua.

“I put one foot in front of the other today I stretched my arms out wide and it felt real strange And then my legs, they started shaking and my hands, they started quaking 'Cause things just take longer to heal these days”

The tenderness with which you sang the last lyrics triggered a small burst of warmth in his chest and when your eyes opened to meet his, his heart jumped fully into his throat.

“Oh, you’re here,” you blurted into the mic without thinking, surprising your band mates.

“Hi, yes,” Joshua cleared his throat, “Sorry I’m early!” he waved at everyone good naturedly.

“Who is this?” your bassist, Elena asked, eyes dancing curiously at you.

“Joshua, he’s the lead in that musical I’m working,” you shrugged, for some reason embarrassed that he had seen you singing.

“Oh nice!” your drummer stood up to introduce himself, “I’m Amir, and that’s Elena. It’s nice to meet you man!”

“Hey thanks! Nice to meet you too,” Joshua smiled back at the large man, “I didn’t know you sang,” he remarked at you.

“I mean…we barely know each other,” you couldn’t help but remark.

“I guess that’s true,” he chuckled good naturedly, “You guys sound great!”

“Thank you” Elena chirped excitedly, “You should follow us on social media!”

“Please,” Joshua nodded way too genuinely, pulling out his phone and looking over Elena’s shoulder as she showed him the band’s various handles.

You knew that didn’t make any sense. You should want everyone and their mother to check out your music, but there had always been an unspoken separation between the cast members and pit orchestra and so it felt very odd to be letting Joshua into your life in this way.

“Do you wanna take that again,” Amir asked you, bringing your thoughts back to the present, “Or did you feel good about that?”

“I felt really good about that, actually,” you nodded and you meant it.

“Me too!” Elena chirped in agreement.

“Cool, well we’re done a little early so if you two need to work on whatever you need to work on, we can make ourselves scarce. But…,” Amir turned his eyes to Joshua hopefully, “If you might wanna jam with us…Elena and I have been learning ‘My Shot’ from Hamilton!”

“Oh hell yes,” Joshua answered seamlessly.

“Right on!” Amir nodded excitedly, sitting back down behind his drum set as Elena wiggled excitedly.

You gestured towards the microphone stand as you got out of the way for Joshua. He pulled the mic out of the stand and your jaw dropped when he started…rapping?

“Hey yo, I'm just like my country I'm young, scrappy and hungry And I'm not throwin' away my shot”

Amir’s grin grew wider and wider as he picked up on Joshua’s flow. You watched, eyes widening with amazement, as he just continued and continued. You knew it was a silly stereotype, but you didn’t ever think you’d see him rapping and you were surprised at how decent he was at it. You could tell that he was out of his usual element, but he managed to still have a swagger and presence that was quite different from when you’d seen him during rehearsal. Elena’s delight grew unbridled as they ran through a good amount of the track before Joshua ran out of breath.

“Sorry!” he laughed apologetically, “I don’t typically rap,” he smiled genially.

“No, don’t apologize man, that was awesome!” Amir shook his head vehemently.

You grinned as you watched the three of them bond. Amir and Elena had always had such open and welcoming personalities, so it didn’t surprise you that they connected with Joshua immediately.

“Of all the things I never thought I’d see,” you remarked as you looked at him with a newfound appreciation.

“I mean we barely know each other, right?” he couldn’t help but throw your own words back at you. He must’ve been still reestablishing his blood oxygen equilibrium, because there was no other explanation for why he winked at you.

You blinked.

“Well, we ought to get out of your hair cause we’ve probably eaten into enough of your rehearsal time,” Amir spoke up after exchanging a glance with Elena. They both packed up quickly and made themselves scarce as you settled in behind the drumset, adjusting the stool way, way down.

“That was fun,” Joshua smiled at you as you warmed up.

“You were perfectly on beat there! So if you could just do that while you walk,” you teased, eyes creasing as you smiled at him. Joshua opened his mouth, but you cut him off, “I know, I know, that’s not what the character would do,” you shook your head playfully at him.

You were pleasantly surprised that the next hour passed quickly. It was probably because Amir and Elena had helped break the ice a little bit, but you felt a lot more comfortable with Joshua today. In turn, he also seemed more open to your input and you were able to work out a decent system for establishing a walking or transition pace. Eventually, you got bored and worked on a few other passages before your stomach interrupted with a loud rumble.

“Was that your stomach?” Joshua asked, surprise evident on his face.

“Yes,” you laughed sheepishly, “I should eat something. Do you want to take a break? I’ve probably got something we can snack on.”

“I wouldn’t mind a snack,” Joshua smiled at you in a way that was disarming.

“Okay, follow me then,” you turned away, nervous, allowing him to follow you,  “Don’t judge me, I know the place is a mess!” you disclaimed as you led him through the house. Joshua’s eyes widened with wonder as he inventoried the many, many instrument cases scattered around your house.

“How many instruments can you play?” he looked at you in wonder.

“I, uh,” you made a face as you counted in your head. “All of the strings and most of the percussion instruments.”

“What? That’s amazing!” Joshua gaped at you. He was truly impressed.

“Thanks,” you chuckled, a bit shy at his obvious admiration. Avoiding his gaze, you searched through your cupboard for something to eat.

“Can I try this?” Joshua gestured to the cello laying on the ground while you slid two frozen waffles into the toaster.

“Sure!” you called over your shoulder as you moved to the fridge. Waffles and cereal it was! You laughed to yourself as you heard some fiddling followed by a few noisy scrapes.

“This sounds horrible,” he remarked to himself as he continued to drag the bow across the strings determinedly. You couldn’t fight the smile that spread across your lips as you watched him out of the corner of your eye. You were surprised that you still found him endearing as he continued to make such grating sounds.

“You’ll have to adjust the pin,” you gestured to the bottom of the cello as you approached him, assessing the situation. “Here, hold this for me,” you lifted the instrument to the appropriate height and waited for Joshua to grab the instrument. You reached down between his legs and pulled the endpin out so that the cello sat at a better height.

“Okay, that looks better, now let’s address this grip,” you smiled, grabbing his hand and adjusting his fingers so they held the bow in a less awkward way. You didn’t notice, but Joshua’s Adam’s apple bobbed erratically when you moved to adjust his other hand on the neck of the cello. “You might actually be good at the cello,” you remarked, taking his left hand into your own. “You have these nice long fingers!”

Before he could respond, the waffles jumped in the toaster, pulling your attention away. It was just as well, because the best Joshua could’ve offered was a garbled cough with the way you had managed to fluster him. Blinking rapidly, he stood, placing the cello back on its side.

In the kitchen, you reprimanded yourself mentally as you placed the toasted waffles onto plates. Joshua did have nice hands, but you certainly didn’t need to be saying that out loud! Wordlessly, you brought everything to the kitchen table and gestured for him to sit.

“Hope you like Cap’n Crunch,” you laughed, “It’s the best I can do with no notice.

“I love Cap’n Crunch,” he smiled genuinely, “So do you teach as well?” he asked between mouthfuls. You nodded and worked through your own mouthful of cereal before answering him.

“Yes! I teach a handful of students, mostly string instruments.”

“Wow, that is really amazing,” Joshua beamed at you one more time before you ate in silence. The crunch of the cap’n filled the room and you were struck by the odd sense of intimacy that filled the moment. You wondered if it was one sided before you finished up and resumed practice

❄❄❄

Joshua couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering to you in the pit. You were laughing easily with some of the other musicians and he was surprised at the way he felt almost jealous? It made sense, of course, you knew them much better than you knew him. Prior to this show, you’d never even interacted, but after spending some time with you over the weekend, Joshua had had a lot of trouble keeping you out of his mind.

“Ready to get started?” Janet tapped their baton against their music stand.

Everyone directed their attention to the podium and flipped to one of the big dance numbers. It was quick and before long you were deeply immersed, trying to keep time with their steps.

“Very good, nice work!” Janet clapped happily, more than pleased. “Joshua and YN, great job nailing down the transitions as well! They’re looking much better.”

You smiled back, pleased as well. Joshua instinctively looked towards where he knew you were, even though it was too dark to see you anymore.

“Hey, YN!” you heard Joshua’s now familiar voice as you were on the way out of rehearsal.

“Hey, nice job today,” you smiled at him.

“Thanks to you,” he felt inordinately pleased to receive your compliment. “Hey if you’re not busy, do you want to grab some coffee?”

“I’m not, but why?” you asked.

“I-, do I have to have a reason?” he paused, furrowing his brow.

“I mean, I guess not but this is a little unusual. The cast members typically don’t acknowledge our existence,” you chuckled. You were probably being a little unfair, but this was also true.

“Well, you’re not exactly making it easy,” he pushed back, raising an eyebrow.

“…Fair point,” you had to admit. “You’re right. Let’s go get coffee.”

Joshua beamed.

“I like Almanac, but where do you like for coffee?”

“I like Almanac too!” Joshua’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “See we’re more similar than you give us credit for.”

“I already admitted I was being unfair,” you raised your brows at him, heading towards your favorite coffee shop.

“So how was the rest of your weekend?”

“It was pretty busy, but good! Yours?”

“It was also good,” Joshua smiled. You watched the way the corners of his lips curled up in a catlike fashion. “I had some free time after our practice, so I went to visit my mom.”

“Oh, nice! Does she live close? Far?”

“A couple of hours away, so it’s not too far. She’s getting a little older now, so I try to visit regularly and help around the house however I can.”

“That’s sweet of you,” you smiled. Joshua had always seemed like a gentleman and this was consistent with that.

“It’s the right thing to do,” he shrugged, opening the door to Almanac for you.

“YN!” the roaster, Sam, greeted you, “And Josh?” He did a double take when Joshua followed you inside. “Do you two know each other?”

“We do!” Joshua nodded, “You weren’t kidding when you said you like it here, huh?”

“I take my coffee very seriously,” you threw him a pointed yet playful look. “What’s interesting today?” you turned back to Sam.

“For you? I think you’ll like the Burundi best? Very juicy and complex,” he regarded you for a second. “And for you, Joshua? I think the Honduras? Nutty and more chocolatey notes.”

You and Joshua both nodded. When it came to coffee with Sam, you’d both learned that it was always best to go with dealer’s choice.

“Do we want these for here or to go?”

“I, uh…?” you looked at Joshua, this had been his idea to begin with.

“Here?” he suggested, hoping you didn’t feel obligated.

“Sure,” you shrugged.

“So how do you two know each other?” Sam asked as he bounced around behind the bar, grinding beans and prepping pour overs.

“We’re both in the Christmas show,” Joshua answered first, gesturing vaguely towards the theater where you’d just walked from.

“Well, he’s in it. I’m in the pit orchestra,” you felt the need to clarify.

“You’re in it! There’s no musical without the orchestra!” he insisted enthusiastically.

“I would agree with that,” Sam chuckled, intrigued at your dynamic.

“You know what I mean though!” you scrunched your face at Joshua, “If you say ‘I’m in a musical’ people think you mean the cast!”

Joshua blinked down at you. His lips curled up at the corners, amused at your fervor. Sam watched with a grin on his face as you and Joshua bickered playfully.

“Okay, here’s your coffee kids,” he finally interrupted, sliding two ceramic cups across the bar.

“Thanks Sam,” you beamed at him before turning to search out a table. It wasn’t terribly busy, so you were able to grab seats at the bar looking out the window. “So did you have something you needed to talk to me about?” you asked, shifting slightly to face him.

“No, I just wanted to spend some time with you,” he laughed, leaning back in his chair.

“What?”

“What?” he asked, a little confused that he kept having to explain why he wanted to be around you. You were incredibly talented and interesting, did you not see that?

“Sorry I’m not good at making new friends,” you chuckled wryly.

“You’re okay,” Joshua smiled. “I was actually hoping to ask you about your music making process. If you don’t mind.”

“Oh?” your eyes lit up. This was a topic that you could talk both of his ears off about, if he let you.

“Yes, I was wondering who writes your lyrics and whether you have a process for it. Like lyrics first and then music or vice versa?”

“That’s a good question that’s impossible to answer,” you grinned at him. “Amir and Elena and I tend to each write our own tracks, but we do ask each other for input. For me, I write the lyrics first and fill in the music around them. Elena is the opposite and Amir does both, depending on his mood. Do you write music?”

“I have tried in the past. But I’m primarily a vocalist, so I never really got to the part about filling in the music,” he chuckled sheepishly. “I can get by on guitar, but that’s about it.”

“It’s certainly not easy,” you laughed, “And then there’s the issue of baring your heart and soul to the people who do actually listen.”

Joshua enjoyed the way your eyes sparkled as you talked excitedly about your music making process. You didn’t seem to like to talk about yourself otherwise, so he hoped he could learn more about you through your music. Your next show was already marked down in his calendar and he couldn’t wait for the day to come.

“Sorry I’m talking your ear off!” you chuckled, bringing your mug to your lips.

“I like it,” his eyes creased as he smiled at you, resting his chin on his hand, eager to hear more.

You blinked. His statement was so straightforward and caught you off guard. You weren’t able to fight the heat that crawled up your neck, so you pretended it was a win that you hadn’t choked on your coffee entirely.

“Oh my gosh, I have to get going,” Joshua’s eyes widened when he noticed the time.

“Oh, okay!” you nodded. “Sorry, I told you I could talk forever about this!”

“Don’t be sorry. Time passes easily with you.”

“This was fun, thanks for suggesting it,” you stepped past his compliment and through the door purposefully. “Oh, it’s snowing!” you gasped, extending your palms upwards to catch a few flakes.

“Pretty,” he murmured, eyes watching you as snowflakes landed in your hair.

“It really is,” you turned towards him, fully beaming now. You loved being outside for the first snow each year. You and Joshua exchanged a laden glance before you couldn’t stand it anymore and excused yourself. It was cold out, but you almost couldn’t feel it.

❄❄❄

“Are you gonna sing tonight?” Elena asked you, eyes bright with curiosity. You tended to be fifty-fifty when it came to karaoke night. Sometimes you were in the mood and other times you weren’t. Tonight you were decidedly on the fence, so you planned to just go with the flow.

“Not sure yet, but I am here to support you,” you grinned, nose scrunching affectionately at her. “Is Amir coming?”

“Yeah, but he invited someone else so he’s waiting outside,” Elena nodded.

“Oh, okay!” you shrugged. It wasn’t unheard of for others to join you, but it wasn’t frequent either. You wandered to the bar to grab a beer while you waited.

“Yo!” you jumped slightly when Amir’s booming voice was accompanied by his hands clapping down on your shoulders.

“Jeebus,” you scrunched your face up at him.

“Two pilsners, please?” he signaled to the bartender before pulling you into a hug. “How’s things?” he asked as you headed back towards Elena.

“Pretty good! How are yo-oh?” you stopped mid-sentence when you saw Joshua sitting with her.

“Hey,” he smiled gently, waving at you.

“What are you doing here?”

“I invited him!” Amir stated as a matter of factly as he took the seat next to Elena at the picnic style table. You climbed over the bench on the other side, taking the spot next to Joshua.

“We’ve been chatting,” Joshua explained helpfully.

“Oh,” you nodded, though you were full of questions, “It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” he nodded, left knee nudging yours under the table.

Your heart flipped in your chest. You hadn’t seen Joshua since your post-rehearsal coffee, but he’d certainly been on your mind. If you squinted, in the right light, you would almost think that he was interested in you. But then again, you’d also thought things with your last partner had been going well just before they’d broken up with you too.

“What are you singing?” you asked, pulling yourself out of your thoughts.

“Well it has to be holiday themed, so that narrows down our choices,” Amir stroked his chin playfully.

“Have you decided?” Joshua turned to you, eyes curious.

“I’m not sure I’m going to sing yet,” you half-smiled at him.

“Oh come on! I’ll sing if you sing,” he offered.

“Why would I care if you sing or not?” you countered.

“Hm. You’re telling me you don’t want to watch me make a fool of myself singing Mariah Carey?” he teased, corners of his lips curling up playfully.

“Wait,” you blinked, “Wait, no I really do,” your eyes widened as you processed his words.

“You’d better pony up then,” he threw you a playful look as he brought his beer to his lips.

Elena watched Joshua with severe interest as he watched you wrack your brain for Christmas songs. He was so clearly interested in you, but she couldn’t tell whether your obliviousness was purposeful or not.

“What about ‘Santa Tell Me’?” she suggested, electing to help you out of your misery.

“Oh! I do like that song!” you smiled at Elena gratefully, “Will that do?” you turned to Joshua, an eyebrow raised expectantly at him.

You honestly expected him to say no and request a rendition of something much more embarrassing, so you were caught off guard when he cocked his head to the side and raked his eyes over you before nodding. Elena’s eyes widened before they flew to Amir to see whether he’d been paying attention to this exchange. As was typical, he seemed blissfully unaware as he drank his beer.

“Do we sign up? Or how does this work?” Joshua asked, craning his neck towards the MC.

“Yep, they have a sign-up sheet there!” Amir nodded.

“Shall we?” Joshua turned to you, extending his hand towards you.

“We?” you couldn’t help the question that escaped your lips.

“I don’t trust you not to chicken out. I would like to watch you put pen to paper,” he grinned mischievously at you.

“Me? Chicken?” you gasped, offended. “I would never!”

“Then let’s go,” Joshua chuckled cooly.

“Fine,” you scoffed, placing your hand in his and following him to the MC’s station.

“Amir!” Elena squealed as she watched you leave. “I think something’s going on?”

“Oh yeah, Joshua likes YN,” Amir shrugged, nodding as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“Wait, what?”

“He told me. Why do you think I invited him?”

Elena’s mouth hung wide open at this revelation. Of all the things she never thought she’d see, Amir meddling was pretty damn near top of the list.

“Am I going first or are you?” you asked Joshua as you held the pen above the sign-up sheet.

“I’ll go first,” he shrugged good naturedly, “It was my idea after all.”

“Okay,” you nodded, scribbling his name and then your own just below it, “No backing out now.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he winked at you. He couldn’t seem to help himself from teasing you tonight.

You watched, fascinated, as Joshua chatted with Elena and Amir. You’d have thought they’d known each other for years, but when you sat down to do the math, you were surprised to realize that it had really only been a few weeks since they’d met. It was a pleasant surprise, but a surprise nonetheless. Pulling yourself out of your thoughts again, you met Elena’s gaze, which was loaded to say the least. When she realized you were no longer spacing out, her eyebrows raised as her head jerked subtly, yet meaningfully, towards Joshua. You knew what she was saying and you maybe even agreed. You just needed to have another mental breakdown or two before you decided what you wanted to do about it.

“Oh, I’m next!” Joshua announced as he watched names on the screen flicker by.

“Break a leg,” you beamed at him. He faltered for a moment at the genuine openness of your smile.

You watched with a mixture of excitement and secondhand embarrassment as Joshua started his rendition of Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You’. It was stupid, but you were surprised at how good he was. He didn’t take himself too seriously, hammed it up when it was appropriate, and by the end of it you were smiling widely and singing along. In fact, you were enjoying yourself so much that you practically forgot you were meant to sing after him and rushed on stage at the last minute. Joshua handed you the mic with a playful chuckle, fingers brushing for just a moment.

“Santa, tell me if you're really there Don't make me fall in love again if he won't be here next year Santa, tell me if he really cares 'Cause I can't give it all away if he won't be here next year”

Joshua smiled as he watched you sing. He wasn’t surprised that this song resonated with you. While perusing your music, it had become apparent to him that you’d gone through a big breakup sometime in the last year. He could certainly understand the reluctance to get involved with someone new, but he also hoped that he could prove himself to be a steadfast friend and potential partner.

You smiled impossibly wide as you grooved to the background music; you really did love this song! Inevitably your eyes moved back to your table and you paused when Joshua caught your eye. His eyes had creased into semi-circles and his lips had curled up just slightly at the corners as he watched you. Your brain stuttered and for whatever reason, the next lyrics that left your lips were from the explicit version instead.

“Oh, I wanna let him unwrap me, like oh-woo-oh Get on top of him, by that fireplace, oh-woo-oh But I don't want a new broken heart This year I've got to be smart”

Joshua’s eyes widened in surprise as the crowd erupted in whoops and cheers. The way you’d held his gaze while singing had left his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

“Eee, you did so good!” Elena squealed excitedly when you returned to the table. It took every fiber of her being not to scream over your sudden improv. “I love that slowed version too.”

“Really good,” Joshua half-smiled, thinking furiously about when and whether to make a move.

“Thanks,” you giggled shyly, grateful for the residual adrenaline of performing. “When are you two up? I kinda want to go out and get some air, but I don’t want to miss you guys!”

“We’re not for a while, go for it! Bring us some beers back too,” Amir waved you away playfully.

“Okay, I’ll be back soon!” you waved briefly before heading out the door to the patio.

The gears continued to turn in Joshua’s head until Amir and Elena simply couldn’t take it anymore.

“Dude, what are you doing?” they demanded in unison.

“What?” Joshua looked up, slightly startled.

“Go get ‘em! Now’s your chance!”

“Now?!” He looked panicked.

“They wanna let you unwrap them, like oh-woo-oh,” Elena sang playfully at him.

“Get on top of you, by that fireplace, oh-woo-oh!” Amir harmonized before breaking out into a fit of giggles.

Joshua stood up. They were right, this was the opening. He headed towards the door he had seen you exit through and found you standing outside alone.

“Gah, I don’t know how you do it!” you started chattering when you saw him, “I still get such nerves about performing in front of crowds like that!”

“It doesn’t really ever go away,” he smiled reassuringly, stepping towards you. “Cold?” he asked, watching you blow warm air on your hands.

“I was hoping the fresh air would help me calm down a bit, but now I’m just cold,” you laughed sheepishly.

Joshua chuckled, folding his long fingers over your hands and pulling you towards him. You swallowed audibly as you looked at him, heart pounding even faster now.

“You are a captivating performer and a talented musician. The nerves never really go away, you’ll just get better at managing them,” he gazed deep into your eyes. “You made me feel a lot of feelings up there.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I’ve heard that version before,” he teased, grinning at you.

“I didn’t-, I don’t,” you floundered, but you didn’t really have much of an explanation. You had simply been flirting with him and he was flirting back.

“Can we go out on a date?” he asked, “If things go according to plan, we’ll be here next year too.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you realized he was quoting your karaoke lyrics back to you. It was so corny and yet…it was working. You pushed up on the balls of your feet, leveraging his grip on your hands to pull him into a kiss. You could feel him smile against your lips and when you pulled away, you could see that a single snowflake had landed on his nose. What in the Hallmark movie?

❄❄❄

Thanks so much for reading! Would love to hear what you think and please also check out the other 'snowventeen' fics!

[deathscastleofficielle]

Life in Brennenburg was hard enough for Stephano, Mr. Chair, Piggeh, and Jennifer before Pewdie arrived, but after he leaves the remaining members of the Bro Army are left fighting the battle he started with the Barrels, as well as trying to survive the monsters. That's not even to mention the ordinary dangers of starvation, the cold, and illness. However, things only get more complicated when they begin to uncover dark secrets that may have been better buried with their corpses. It all starts when brothers reunite, and an enemy from within emerges.

"If you like angsty anime and were on deviantart in the early 2010s this fanfic is for you!" - @thesucessorofficalnot, someone who still has a tumblr from 2016, author of "Amnesia: The Successor"

"Scout LaViolette manages to capture personalities from 2012 in a way that not only feels natural, but canon to said characters. It truly feels like THE story of the characters, going deep into backstory and tapping into their psyche’s of the who’s and why’s of each character." - @atorchzagreusandtris, isn't caught up yet but still incredibly supportive when asked for a quote review, author of "Amnesia: Broken Gold"

[Quotev | Archive of our Own]

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"Okay Scout, what is this?"

Not too long ago I was introduced to Figurosity, and it's definitely opened a lot of doors for me to get better at making art. So of course, to get my practice in, I thought; You know what would be fun? Fake manga covers for Death's Castle.

Well fake might not be entirely accurate. While Death's Castle is not getting a comic adaptation, and these covers will likely not see much use for the actual fanfic, I do plan to one day join the bookbinding trend and make a physical copy of the story. Not to sell of course, just to have. With how long the fanfic already is at what is currently the halfway point, I decided awhile ago that I would likely split it into multiple volumes. Right now I have no idea how many chapters there will be per volume, but rough estimate is at least the first ten chapters would make up volume 1, and volumes 3-5 have nothing for them yet.

There were a few touch and go moments, including having to completely start over on one, but I'm really happy with how these turned out. They each look amazing despite my limitations and manage to look like a complete set while also feeling unique to each character. I do wish I could have kept heights more consistent, but I had to sacrifice that for the sake of making sure everyone was in frame. I also went and found the actual classic PewDiePie font for this! If you're wondering, it's Feast of Flesh BB.

Also I wanna give a quick shout out to ZoeDraws, who has created some amazing fan art for the fanfic. Please go check them out. They actually added a similar pattern to Mr. Chair's shirt, which gave me the idea to include it here as I thought it would be a nice touch for a more detailed piece. I also have to take the chance to credit blackbeltkitten009 since I pretty much stole my outfit design for Stephano from them. We never really talked, but they are aware of me using it. That said, they have long moved on from the fandom so do not bother them about it.

But yeah, let me know if you have a favorite! Mine is personally Piggeh's, but they're all very dear to my heart.