#when I've already added a dragon...

[chiropteracupola]

the WIPs of your that most intrigue me at present are:

blood of the ash-tree (georgian vampire time!)

hornblower? animorphs?? crossover??? (eeeelaborate pls)

FotH Green Knight (let's Pearl-Poet this canon up)

and EotN fire-breather of hispania (i love all your temeraire AUs and universe expansions)

strong opening with the eternal Request for the Vampiremen. I have not written on them much of late but here is an old snippet...

Rowlandson stumbled on the stairs, his left foot catching against the carpet and tugging it askew. He winced as his leg twisted under him, aching as it often had since he had first broken it falling from a horse, some seven years before. The scar of the bullet-blow that had felled him in the first place still showed upon the opposite shoulder, but it was in his shin and his ankle that the lasting pain had made its nest. Now, in his state of half-exsanguinated exhaustion, the effort required to keep his stride was nearly too great. Rowlandson caught himself against the nearer wall of the stairwell, cursing viciously when the lightheadedness didn’t fade.

the hornblower animorphs crossover is based on the fact that it is canon in animorphs that the animorphs kids were at the battle of trafalgar (as well as agincourt, which is a whole other worm can yet to be investigated). you know who else was at trafalgar? william bush.

<This Hornblower — he is your war-prince, then?> It was an odd way of putting it, but Bush found that it could not be termed entirely incorrect. “Captain is the more commonly used word, Mr. Isthill.” The long eyestalks flicked first to him, and then to Hornblower, who was conferring with the other members of that strange party. Isthill cocked his head to one side, birdlike in his curiosity, but appeared to determine assent.

foth green knight — how could I resist merging two lovely instances of 'happily married estate-owning couple and their impulsive steadfastly honorable third from a distant court?'

It was less a chapel than a tiny shrine cut into the rock, a little alcove carved into the cliff face just far enough that a man might stand within and not feel the wind upon his face. The toppled stones around it seemed to imply it was once greater, that that sacred stillness it held had extended for paces beyond its current bounds. A man in green sat slumped at the chapel’s entrance, his head bowed over his folded hands. One waterfall of liquid birdsong, and then, with a fluttering of wings, the notes trickled away. “…Ardroy?” The man raised his head, his long hair shimmering back and forth from red-gold to green-gold in the frost-thin light. He nodded, unspeaking, sorrow written plainly across his face.

'a fire-breather of hispania' is best summarized as 'what if esca brought home a dragon egg instead of a wolf cub,' and has expanded itself delightfully into... mostly just me gently adjusting the plot to fit a dragon inside it, which is very fun.

The dragonet was a tease and a trouble from the very beginning — he hid among the ceiling beams and descended suddenly on Sasticca when she was cooking, he snuck up on Uncle Aquila’s tired old wolfhound and nipped at his tail while he slept, he made a mess of every room and sent Esca chasing after him, the atrium all a flutter of lost papers where he had been. But Marcus laughed, laughed as he had not since Isca Dumnoniorum. “You have a gladiator for a body-slave, and a dragon for a pet — there was peace and quiet in my house, once,” said Uncle Aquila ruefully, turning a draught-piece over and over in his hand. The remains of his game lay scattered across the floor, the folding table knocked down by an errant tail, and Aquilillus, his head in Esca’s lap, was presently nibbling a corner of the board. But there was merriment in his eyes — merriment that, had Marcus seen both his uncle and himself, was written in the same hand on both their faces.

[starlingfawn]

through starless sky to blackest ground

[cjgladback]

[ID: Short video of two identical 3D rendered eight-inch C-clamps, upright on a taupe background. The body of the clamps is black cast iron while the parts that would move are copper. The clamps and camera are unmoving but overlays wipe transition from right to left, first a gradient over the background then wireframes over the clamps. The closer clamp has a much more detailed mesh, primarily grids of four-sided polygons, very dense on the screw-threaded shaft. The back clamp's shaft is a simple cylinder and it has many triangles visible on the body. The final overlay labels the back clamp with 4.77 thousand tris, the foreground clamp 71.09 thousand tris or 1.14 million tris when subdivided twice. The loop finishes by removing the gradient and then the overlays. End ID]

So about that "maybe I'll make an LOD1 of the clamp, too" thought. I now get to figure out where I should offer this as an asset for purchase and how I should format that deliverable. Ko-fi will be the easy option since they already have my payment information, whereas Sketchfab has some traffic coming in for the freebies already so it would make sense to offer there as long as fees or time overhead isn't obscene. If you have advice as a seller or purchaser of 3D assets, please feel free to share!

[scorpioriesling]

Heyyy how are you???? Crazy idea what about if xaden had a sister who stayed in aretia, never went to Basgiath, but she still bounded with a dragon (how to train your dragon style) only brennan knows ( brennan X reader) the dragon is son of Tairn and Sgaeyl

A Family Reunion

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Brennan x reader

Warning(s): none

Summary: You'd stayed in Aretia when your brother left for Basgiath -- but, that had been years ago. After falling in love with the capital's general, the impending family reunion was... well, not what you expected. Especially when your brother learns of what you'd been doing the entire time he'd been away.

SR’s Note: This was actually so fun to write, and I'm grateful for the request! It was a nice break from all the smut I've been writing lately, LOL. Between requests and Kinktober prep... well, you get the idea. I hope you enjoy!

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

"Good morning, my love."

You smiled sleepily as your boyfriend pressed a tander kiss to your lips, your eyelids opening slowly as the early-morning sunlight welcomed you back into consciousness. His brown eyes gazed down at you as he hovered just above you, and your smile faltered a bit when you realized his attire.

"B-Bren... why are you..." You made to sit up in bed, arching your spine and releasing a big yawn. His hands helped guide you into a sitting position, and he knelt beside the bed.

"They're arriving today." He said simply, and your eyes widened.

"They... it's the 12th?" You ask, your mind beginning to race. Sure, you were briefed on the arrival a few weeks ago -- but you must have miscounted the days. Your eyes flickered toward his flight jacket, the "Aseraigh" patch sewn on the right side.

His fingers gently caressed your cheek as he nodded, and you kicked the blankets off in a rush.

"W-Well why didn't you wake me up sooner?" You exclaimed, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. Before you could stand, your boyfriend wedged his way between your knees, placing his palms on the bare skin of your thighs. You sighed, looking down at him impatiently.

"You appear so peaceful when you rest," he offered lightly. His admission had a small smile pulling your lips upward, and he reached in to kiss you again. Slower this time, his mouth molding to yours as though the two were made to be connected.

You slid your fingers over his, giving them a small squeeze before he pulled back from you.

"You know I'd give anything to just stay here with you, all day." The raw emotion in his voice had your heart swelling, and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Me too Bren, me too."

But unfortunately, you had to prepare for your brother's arrival instead.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The sun sank lower and lower on the horizon, and with each passing minute, your heart raced faster.

There's no use in being nervous -- it's a waste of time.

Azar's voice rang clearly inside of your head, and you instinctively looked toward the cave opening. You half expected to see his blue-black scales glinting in the sun, but he had already retreated further into the covering.

Surely, in preparation.

I'm allowed to be nervous, you replied. I haven't seen my brother in years, let alone been able to explain our... situation.

When Xaden had left for Basgiath, he left more than just his memory behind -- he left you. In a brotherly attempt to protect you, of course. Little had he known, you'd shared more than a last name; you posessed the same courage, grit, and intelligence as your older counterpart.

He also had no knowledge of your ability to bond with a dragon, especially outside of the war college. But, here we are.

You could practically feel Azar's eye roll in your mind.

Give me a break -- you and I, are most certainly not in the same situation.

Very true.

Azar had it hard; his parents surely didn't believe he was alive. Taken as a mere hatchling, Tairn and Sgael lost their only true offspring years ago; they'd adopted Andarna, sure. But if you could guess, they'd believed Azar to be deceased.

Before you could fire back a reply, you turned at the sound of Brennan's voice.

"Right, and the rooms are prepped? All the medical supplies stationed around the campus?"

He spoke with Iseul, the head of the Aretian Guard as they stalked closer to you. His eyes met yours and he smiled, severing his conversation with the general.

"All ready, sir. We have soldiers stationed around the city to assist in the arrival," he explained, and Brennan clapped him on the shoulder.

"Excellent," he responded, nodding as Iseul made his departure. He turned to you, a long breath exhaling from him as he glanced toward the sky.

"Now, we just prepare for their arrival." He muttered. You nodded, stepping into his embrace. He held you close as the two of you watched, simply waiting for the incoming fleet to make themselves seen.

"I'm sure it'll go... great," you attempted to sound hopeful. Brennan chewed on the inside of his cheek, still gazing at the clouds.

"Yeah... like one, big, happy family reunion."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The reunion was not happy. Nor was it big.

It was nearly eight in the afternoon when the largest of the dragons made an appearance through the coulds; large, dark, and intimidating. It had to be Tairn, surely. Your heart sunk when you glanced to Azar -- he'd temporarily lied outside the cave's opening in an attempt to sun his midnight scales, but upon hearing the chaos of the fleet's arrival, he quickly retreated into the cave mouth once more.

You focused more on clearing the groundspace as many Aretian soldiers and dwellers gathered near the entrance to Riorson House. The large, winged creatures flew lower and lower overhead -- riders appearing on many of their backs.

That was, except the black dragon's.

"Clear the way!" Brennan shouted, waving his hands as his army obeyed. Instantaneously, the ground shook below your feet as dragon after dragon landed in the land's capital.

You instinctively lifted your arms, the wind generated from the massive wingbeats before you pulling a few strands free from your high bun. Chaos ensued around you -- soldier pulled rider after rider from their creatures, many of them injured and in need of medical attention.

Heat blazed beneath your skin, the darkening sky calling to you in a way that you could not suffice right now.

Now is not the time for a lightning storm, Azar.

Again, the eye roll could be felt from a mile away.

Maybe not, but it would make for a dramatic entrance.

You shook your head, wondering if Azar's parents were as insufferable as he was.

Making your way through soldiers and riders rushing by, you halted when a humongous blue dragon landed just before your boyfriend. You watched as he reached toward the rider dismounting, exchanged panic shared between the two.

The taller, darker rider quickly transferred the limp girl he'd been holding in his arms to rest in Brennan's, explaining in a rushed, loud tone that she needed his immediate medical attention.

You stepped closer, bile rising in your throat as you clocked her silver hair. That, along with the dripping, veiny gash to her right side.

His sister.

The bile threatened to make an appearance. The girl looked nearly dead, but the silver hair was enough indication that she was in fact, Violet Sorrengail.

Brennan rushed toward the house, a few soldies and Iseul flanking his sides in an attempt to assist. You debated following him inside, that was before your lungs seized of air as you were pulled into a bone-crushing hug.

You breathed deeply in an attempt to regain oxygen, the smell of smoke and mint infultrating your senses. In your panic, you registered the familiar scent; and instantly relaxed.

Xaden.

"Oh my Gods, Y/N -- I can't tell you how many times I'll thank Malek for not taking you from me, not yet anyway."

He released you, pulling back to stare down at you. You couldn't help the stinging behind your eyes, the immediate rush of emotion almost too much to contain.

"Xaden I..." You pulled him in again, hugging him with intent this time. His hands wrapped around your waist and held the back of your head, as though you were sacred and precious all at the same time. You hated the tears that spilled over, running down your cheeks and dampening his flight jacket.

He loosened his grip, releasing you once more as you wiped at your nose with your own jacket. His brow raised as he took in your appearance, his gaze running quizzically over you.

"Your own jacket, huh?" He questions, and your breath catches in your throat. Shit. You were going to take it off before he arrived.

You chuckled, trying to find an explaination.

"Yeah! I uh... I liked the one that um," you coughed. "General Aseraigh wears, so I asked for one of my own."

His assessing gaze hardened.

"Is that so."

You nodded, your eyes catching on the chaos still ensuing around you.

"And, you seem... well, like you've been busy, here." His gaze flickers to your legs, the noticeable amount of muscle you'd packed onto them while training. You had to -- Brennan ensured you were ready and fit to handle Azar.

You scowled. "What, you expected me to do nothing around here while you've been gone?"

His jaw ticked.

"No, I'm simply noticing the... changes, in you. Since I saw you last."

Your fury burned hotter at his usual, calm tone.

"I've been training, so what?" You threw your hands up. "It's not like I have a dragon-school with dragon-school-teachers to go to."

The punch hit exactly where it should of.

"Oh, so Brennan's been doing it instead?"

Well, maybe not exactly where it should have.

Before you could fire another retort, your brother's attention is snagged on the front entrance to your childhood home. Someone is shouting for him to come, and he lets out a long sigh before departing.

"This conversation is not over."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Your foot tapped impatiently outside the door.

Brennan had gone in hours ago, and you hadn't seen him since. Not to mention, your brother joining him soon after. With Azar still hidden away, you only had yourself and your thoughts to occupy your time.

Another half an hour longer, and the door creaked open. Your face lit up as Brennan squeezed through, closing it softly behind him. You took his face in your hands, and he immediately melted into you.

"How is she?" You couldn't help but ask. He drew his head up from off your shoulder to look at you, and your brows knit as you take in his exhausted expression.

"She's... well, she'll recover." He offerred, laying his head back down on your shoulder. "She hasn't woken up yet."

Your hands run comfortingly over his back, one tangling in his hair and scratching lightly. He lets out a sound of contentment, his voice muffled against your jacket.

Continuing to whisper your encouraging words, you let your eyes fall shut as well. It'd been a long day, a tiring one at that -- especially for someone like Brennan, who spent a lot of it preparing and mending and doing so much you couldn't even begin to imagine.

The door behind him opened slightly, but you were too lost in the moment to notice. It shut a few minutes after, and you began guiding Brennan to the living room to lie down.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Your eyes blinked open a few hours later, the early morning dawn peeking through the living room curtains. You stretched out, yawning and looking across the couch.

Brennan wasn't there.

You look around the room quickly, not finding him anywhere. You made to stand, when a soft voice spoke from the shadows across the room.

"I sent him off to bed a few hours ago."

You paused, squinting through the darkness. Shadows lazily floated toward you, tickling below your chin and threading through the ruined mess of a bun on your head.

The quiet stretched on for a few moments, before you opened your mouth to explain.

"I think he may have just fallen asleep out here-"

"You really love him, don't you."

The chilling calm with which he spoke halted your hasty explaination. You leaned back against the couch, wiping a hand down your face. You sighed -- no point in lying now.

"I... yes."

Your brother looked at you in silence, his face a mask of unreadable calm. He breathed deeply, looking down at the floor before speaking again.

"Violet and I... we're..." he struggles to find the words. "I can't lose her."

Your face falls, and you stand to cross the room and sit by your brother. You wrap a comforting arm around his shoulders, the action feeling a lot like the way your mom once did it. He looks sidelong at you, the fear making itself known in his eyes.

"Xaden, I think Violet will be just fine," you say softly. "Brennan... he's good at what he does, and for his sister?" You shrug. "I feel like he'd do anything."

Xaden chuckles, leaning his head on your shoulder.

"You can remind her of that when she wakes up," he says, his tone suggesting that the reunion of the siblings might not go so well. "But, I'd do anything for my sister, too. So, I get it."

You share the quiet calm that follows, sitting beside eachother as a million unspoken words hang in the air between the two of you. It isn't too long before Brennan rushes in, his hair a sleepy mess on his head.

"She's waking up," he says, and Xaden stiffens. He rises with grace, crossing the room in a few small strides. He approaches Brennan and pauses before heading down the hallway, looking first at Brennan and then to you once more.

"You better never, ever do anything stupid to her, Aseraigh."

Brennan puts his hands up in surrender, and watches as his friend continues down the hallway. He looks to you with a raised eyebrow, and you shrug.

"I had to tell him-"

He sighs, taking the seat next to you on the couch and resting his head in your lap. He rubs at his eyes sleepily, another yawn escaping from him before he gazes up at you.

"It's way too early for this shit."

･ﾟ: *✧

Just as your brother predicted, the sibling reunion was... well, less than ideal.

"You really thought that hiding out here, letting your whole family believe you were dead-" her words are sharp as she follows Brennan out the front entrance, walking quickly toward where you and Xaden stood on the front pasture.

"...was the best idea? What the Hell, Brennan!"

Brennan huffed, stopping before the two of you and spinning on his heel to face his sister.

"Yes, Vi, I did. And, you know what? I'm glad I did." He admits, glancing toward you. His sister scoffs, folding her arms over her chest.

"Right, because changing your last name and forging a secret army in a secret, fucking, place, Brennan, is a terrific idea," she punctuates each word. "So glad you did it! Yep. So glad I had to watch our parents mourn you, Mira mourn you," she continues. He only shakes his head.

"This was all coming to a head," he interjects. "Had I not been here, where would you have gone last night? Had I not been here, where would your fellow cadets find refuge? Huh?" He continues. Xaden steps forward, hoping to ease some of the tension.

"It's not all his fault, Vi. I could have-"

"You could have told me the truth, instead of lying your way out of things. As you always do." She glared at him. "I'm not talking to you right now anyway."

Thunder rumbled in the distance, but it was not your doing this time -- though the sensation, the action was so similar to your own. Violet's hard gaze turned to you, and her face softened only an inch.

"You're Y/N, right?"

You nod silently, and she purses her lips.

"Great. I'm glad you at least kept my brother in line -- as much as you could, while he was lying to his family." She threw a withering glare to her brother. "It seems like we're in the same position, of sorts. A brother that lies, and..." she trails off, looking at Xaden. "Whatever, this is. Bottom line is, you lied too."

Your brother's face falls, and your heart hurts only a little. You could understand her frustration, and recognized your brothers usual avoidance of the hard situation by always taking the easy way out.

"Well... if I'm being honest-"

"Oh, some honesty is more than appreciated right now."

You winced as you looked at her, then looking to Brennan who only nodded. Xaden's gaze flickered between the two of you, his anger rising.

"Don't tell me you're..." he trails off. You give him a confused look, immediately after widening your eyes in shock.

"Oh! Oh Gods, no, Xaden. Nothing like that." You reassure. Even with that assurance, your brother glares hard at Brennan.

"No, seriously -- it's not like that. I mean, it's like that, but not like... that." He chuckles nervously, and Violet finally makes the connection.

"Wait -- the two of you are, together?" She whispers. Your gaze drops, and Brennan nods before Violet lets out a sarcastic laugh.

"Oh, my, Gods! This literally just keeps getting better and better." She throws her hands up incredulously, resting her palms atop her head. "Tairn is gonna get a load of this, and Sgael... Gods, I wonder how truthful you are with her." She glares sidelong at Xaden again, who only sighs and rubs a hand over his face.

"Violet, please-"

"Well, speaking of um, Tairn, and Sgael," you announce, and both Xaden and Violet refocus on you at the mention of their dragon's names.

"What about them?" Xaden asks, his tone questioning.

"Well... there's, one more thing I needed to tell you about." You say nervously, backing away slowly toward the opening of the cave. As if on cue, both Tairn and Sgael emerge from the treeline, stalking closer as the group follows you toward the enclosure. You take a deep breath, preparing to tell them -- when suddenly, all of their eyes widen, focusing on something just over your shoulder.

You turn, your face apologetic as you take in the prideful expression before you.

Azar emerges from the cave mouth, chin high, as his scales gleam in the early morning sun.

You only turn at the sound of your brother's voice once more.

"You, Riorson, have some explaining to do."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

My Tears Ricochet

[felassan]

Dragon Age Day 2024 – Developer Reddit AMA (Q&A session) – compilation post

Introduction: “Happy Dragon Age Day! John Epler and Corinne Busche are here to answer your questions for the next ~2 hours. Looking forward to chatting with everyone. We won't be able to get to all questions, but hoping to get to a good mix!”

I gathered the questions and answers from the AMA together in this post, as the AMA has now concluded. The rest of this post is under a cut due to spoilers and length.

Q: "If you could’ve developed DLC, what — and/or where — would you have wanted to explore? Would it have been a new locale with a complementary, self-contained story or something that adds to the main plot and teases the future?"

Corinne Busche: "On the gameplay side, I had a thought about adding a new class option, which is directly related to the environments and story. I've always wanted to revisit the Bard, and I've long felt in the context of Veilguard the best way to handle player-controlled blood magic would have been to build a unique 'Blood Mage' class for it."

Q: "Can we look forward to more lore-supplementary material, for example World of Thedas vol.3?"

John Epler: "With all of the lore reveals in DATV, another World of Thedas is something we'd absolutely love to do. That said, they're complex beasts and require a lot of work from a lot of people, so I can't really promise anything, but it's something we're interested in, at least."

Q: "1. How exactly did Solas's blood magic manipulation of Rook work? Did he only alter Rook's perception to make them think that Varric was still around, or did the blood magic actively prevent Rook from reacting to Varric in a way that would have given up the ruse to the other characters? 2. What is the state of Southern Thedas after the events of DAV?"

John: "Solas' magic caused Rook to see Varric when he wasn't there. Originally, of course, Solas wanted Varric to keep Rook more off-balance - but the thing about the Fade is that things don't always work the way you expect or want them to. As for the state of Southern Thedas - it's been pretty radically altered. The balance of power has shifted, but even those who rode out the storm of the Gods' blight better than others are still reluctant to start anything as the whole place is in rough shape."

Q: "When looking back on DAV, is there any part you wish that you could have spent more time on?"

John: "For me, it's about the Antaam and their split from the rest of the Qunari. There are elements of that story in both the Crows content and in Taash's personal quest, but in a dream world, having the Ben Hassrath as an additional faction (albeit, one you don't know if you can trust) would've been nice."

Corinne: "And for myself, I certainly share some of the desires the community has. Going deeper on romances, and more choices to import. I love our choices and consequences in the game already and maybe we could've added a few more on the scale of the Minrathous/Treviso choice, that significantly alter the remainder of the game. I think we learned how to make that work within our gameflow and content structure, so I look forward to being able to lean in on these beats more heavily. That said, no artist or creator is ever going to be completely content with their work, and even so when I take a step back and look at the game as a whole, I'm extremely proud of what were able to accomplish."

Q: "Can we get confirmation on what happened to the other Evanuris? Will we get any more lore? Shame we didn't hear a whole lot about them besides essentially being behind the previous Blights."

John: "We haven't been SUPER specific about this, but at best the other Evanuris are a shadow of their former selves, and at worst they're dead. The death of their Archdemons, particularly when they were still trapped in the Fade, caused enough magical feedback that it broke their minds and bodies. A couple may have survived as shells, but they aren't in the same state as Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan."

Q: "Will we get at least anything post launch that via free updates that further expands some story elements? Will rook continue to be the main protagonist going further??"

Corinne: "We've been continuing to improve upon the game post-launch through various bug fixes, balance updates, and quality-of-life improvements. Notably new character creator options and armors for DA Day and N7 Day, and some cool features like Photo Mode filters. Beyond this focus however, we largely view this story as complete and are not planning for further story content. Whether Rook will return in the future, well it's just too early to say :)"

Q: "The marketing for the game claimed that choices not imported from prior games wouldn't be overridden. However, certain dialogue from characters like Harding seemed to establish certain canon events from previous games that were not locked in. Is the intention that a hard canon is being established from DATV forward?"

John: "Ultimately, there's still no intention for there to be a hard canon going forward. These games have been going on for 15 years, though, and with all of the previous games to remember, as well as developing this one, there are absolutely places where we unintentionally suggested there was a hard canon (the one I've seen specifically is that Isabela is always assumed to have joined Hawke's party). I'd say those are oversights and not part of a deliberate strategy. While there are definitely some smaller decisions we will likely never revisit, I want to keep those other choices alive and relevant in the future, and with the state of Thedas the way it is at the end of DATV, I don't really think there's a way forward that DOESN'T involve bringing some of those bigger choices back to the forefront."

Q: "Was there anything at risk of being cut from the game that you fought tooth and nail to keep in?"

Corinne: "Oh, absolutely. There are always those things in game dev that are at risk due to scope and deadlines. There were 3 big ones that immeadiately come to mind: The Transmog feature, the Lords of Fortune Hall of Valor, and Haunts questline. I'll throw in Photo Mode as well, but that was one that we always knew we'd like to do, and had to dig deep to find the time and resources for it."

Q: "Is it set in stone that we will not be getting DLC?"

Corinne: "Correct, our focus was to tell a complete story with the release of Veilguard. Beyond the quality of life improvements and a couple new armor sets we're doing to support the game, we won't have any new story or gameplay content coming to the game."

Q: "Are there any plans to try and increase character saves on console to more than 3?"

Corinne: "This is something we've investigated, but because this touches our save file architecture there are no plans at this time to increase the limit."

Q: "Are you planning to make another Dragon Age after this one ?"

Corinne: "There are so many more stories yet to be told, and threats to defend against, within Thedas, but that's all we can say for now as we don't have anything new to announce."

Q: "With the polarizing nature of this iteration of Dragon Age, how did the media attention affect the team as a whole and the morale leading into and post launch?"

Corinne: "This is a tough one to answer, because it's so personal and specific to each member of the team. So let me say this, we've seen that with each Dragon Age release there has been a passionate, and sometimes polarized, response. When you consider how invested the players are, the nature of reinvention in the franchise, and the commitment to inclusivity, it makes a lot of sense to see the broad array of reactions. What I can say is that the team is really proud of what they have built, and the positive critical reception it's received. Within the team, we've been sharing all of the wonderful letters, fan art, and anecdotes from the players, and listening closely to the constructive criticism. That's really where we focus our attention."

Q: "Could you comment on current logic of Lucanis romance? Him leaving PC because of a certain choice does not make sense, because right after that he picks up the romance arc with Neve, who did exactly same choice. Was it intentional, or are we dealing with a broken plot flag or oversight?"

Corinne: "Lucanis is a deeply passionate individual, and rightly or wrongly, can't overlook that it was Rook's decision as the leader of the Veilguard to support Minrathous, when so many lives were bound to be lost in Treviso. It hasn't dimmed his passions, which is why he ultimately still pursues Neve, but it does come at the cost of the fledgling romance with Rook. As with all people, Lucanis is complex in the way he internalizes his experiences, and this is one he couldn't look past."

Q: "Are there any comics or books planned that are set after the events of DAV?"

John: "Ancilliary media is always tricky but personally I'd love to do more in that space. I think the ending of DATV leaves the world pretty well open to a number of different stories and exploring how the dynamics of Thedas have changed after the events of DATV is, IMO, a really fun path to go down."

Q: "Can we see Sandal in the future Game/DLC?"

Corinne: "That's an interesting possibility to explore. Especially given what we've learned in Harding's quest line and the awakening of her powers through her connection to the Titans. It's a really fascinating side of lore, but like we've mentioned already we don't have any new story content coming to the game or anything further to announce."

Q: "I want to give a shout out to John, Corinne, and Trick in particular. What a great group of people who clearly love this series! Would love to know about their canon Rooks/romances and their playthroughs" 

Corinne: "At this point I've done so many playthroughs it's difficult to keep them all straight! If there was one that I'd say is my "canon" however, I'd say it would be my Shadow Dragon Qunari Rogue, named 'Rin'. She was a Veil Ranger who was always a bit quick on the draw, chose to save Minrathous, selected Maevaris for Archon, and romanced her one true love: Taash! Ultimately Rin and Taash agreed that Taash should honor their life as a Rivani, before we defeated the gods, redeemed Solas, and sent him off into the fade to be with his own true love: The Inquisitor. <3"

John: "Qunari mage Rook who's romancing Harding. He's the handsomest Qunari in Thedas, and that's a burden he bears every day. I'd also just add that while I appreciate the kind words, a game like this couldn't come together without a tremendous number of people, far more than are active on social media. So shout out to the whole team for the hard work they've done."

Q: "Can we hope to see something related to Awakened Darkspawn in the future that the franchise has? (As in prequels or new instalments.)"

Corinne: "Difficult to say. I've always been a fan of the rare cases of Awakened Darkspawn, but if they were to turn up, it would need to be because they were right for the story."

Q: "My question is - what are your plans for upcoming patches? Do you expect that they'll mainly be bug fixes, or is there a possibility that there could be content patches? And if so, any chance for more interaction between Rook and the companions, since that's top of many of our wishlists for the game right now? (Lucanis in particular for me :) but every one of us has their own favorites!)"

Corinne: "I'm so glad you enjoyed it!! I believe we've responded to another question about the post launch plans, but let me include some of that information here as well. We're currently focused on various bug fixes, balance updates, and quality-of-life improvements. Notably new character creator options and armors for DA Day and N7 Day, and some cool features like Photo Mode filters. Beyond this focus however, we largely view this story as complete and are not planning for further story content."

Q: "Where does Andraste and the Maker fit into the world of Thedas given all that was revealed during Trespasser and Veilguard. We obviously know the whole story about the Evanuris and their role in shaping the world as it is, the Black City, the Blight, etc. Is The Maker just a human mythology that sprang up to explain this? Does The Maker still exist?"

John: "That's a weighty question. I do think there are some questions we should never (and likely will never) answer completely - I think the moment you reveal everything there is to know about a fantasy universe, you start to lose some of the mystery that brought people into it in the first place."

Q: "Are you going to add new armor or skins as you added the Mass Effect one?"

Corinne: "We actually just dropped the new Hawke-inspired armor, face paint, and body paint, as of today in celebration of Dragon Age Day!! Really hope you enjoy! I know for me personally, it's going to be my go-to transmog armor from now on."

Q: "What features/storylines were left on the cutting room floor? Followup if you're feeling generous: How was the development of Veilguard viewed internally, and was the majority of the studio satisfied with the time given to develop the game?"

Corinne: "Tightening up content and making cuts is a tough but typical part of game development. A few of the biggest cuts we had to make were trimming down the Faction story arcs, and letting go of a few explorable spaces. There were also a few areas, like blighted Weisshaupt that we could've returned to and explore. In both cases however, I believe we rightly opted to let go of these quests and areas in favor of increased focus on the quality of the existing Faction quests and exploration areas and shipping a high quality performing experience."

Q: "After reading the Dragon Age: The Veilguard book I noticed the jurassic tortoises didn't make the cut into the game, they were also teased in the initial teaser trailer from a few years ago. Any particular reason they were cut?"

John: "It's less about them getting cut and more that they just never moved far enough ahead to be a part of the game with full animation sets (combat, locomotion, etc)"

Q: "Is there any hope that you'll be announcing official mod tools, or a toolset like Dragon Age: Origins?"

Corinne: "No, we don't have any plans for official mod support."

Q: "My question is >! where does Solas/where do Solas and the Inquisitor go off to at the end if he’s redeemed? Back into the prison he made or just the fade in general?"

John: "We're leaving that ambiguous on purpose, but given that the Fade is shaped by dreams and thoughts, I think it's fair to say that the section of the Fade that Solas and the Inquisitor end up in is a lot nicer than the Fade that Solas gets trapped in with the other two endings."

Q: "How do you think Veilguard sets up the future of the franchise? Where would you like to take it from here?"

Corinne: "I'm sure it won't surprise you when I say we riff on this topic a lot! What really captures my imagination now that we've resolved some of the mysteries pertaining to the blight and the Elven gods, is exploring the aftermath of this crisis in a deeply destabilized Thedas. As you can imagine, given a blight of this magnitude, and the revelations of the Elven gods, it's going to have long lasting geo-political implications, and there will be those eager to take advantage of the situation. Not to mention, there is so much yet to explore in the nature of the the Dwarves and Qunari, and their relationship to the Titans and Dragons respectively."

John: "To riff on what Corinne is saying - I think, for myself, I'd love to look at taking it down from 'end of the world' to 'the world is changing, how do you adapt and react'. The balance of power has changed, and the Sword of Damocles that is the Evanuris and the Blight is no longer hanging over the world. What does that look like? Who's on top now? And with all the revelations brought up in DATV, what does that look like for the Dwarves, or the Qunari?"

Q: "1) I've seen people that they believe Andraste was a vessel for Mythal because of a comment Morrigan makes about a previous vessel falling in love with an Almarri Chieftain. Is this the case or was she talking about Flemeth? 2. About the Executors, is their manipulation more on the level of leaking information to select people to guide events, or is it more along the lines of "Loghain suspects that Cailan wants to ally with Orlais, let's stoke his hatred by having him see/hear events that remind him of what they did." 3. Lastly, are there any plans to let us visit Kal Sharok proper in any future games? It was great getting a small glimpse of the Dwarves from there and see an outpost but would love to see the actual city!"

John: "I think I'm going to have to keep the first question a mystery for everyone. :) For the second, it varies. The Executors are very mysterious and, more importantly, incredibly risk averse. They attempt to manipulate events in the most subtle way they can manage. Sometimes that means leaving a particularly inflammatory document on the right desk. Sometimes it means stoking existing fears and doubts. Not everything they try is successful, in part because of how unwilling they are to put themselves at risk. For Loghain, it would have been incredibly subtle. He's smart, strong willed and, in his own way, loyal to Ferelden to a fault. For others, it would've been different. I'd love to do more with Kal Sharok as there are some interesting stories still to tell that involve them, but we don't have anything to announce as it relates to future games."

Q: "If you could make one of the faction leaders a party member in the next game, who would you choose?"

Corinne: "For me, it would absolutely be Evka and Antoine (you have to bring them as a couple, right???). They've come to have place in my heart, and I would love to know what the future of the Wardens looks like. That said, a couple of runners up: Maevaris Tilani, and a reprised companion role for Isabela, would make me very excited!"

Q: "Did you expect so many players to be so thirsty over Emmrich? He is the best player in the game for me, thank you for his lovely presence."

Corinne: "I mean, we definitely had our suspicions. Within the dev team, we are also fans of the game, and what we found was that some of us were very drawn to, and quite vocal about, our resident necromancer. There's something so endearing about his gentle demeanor and that juxtaposition of necromancy as a force for good and reverence, that makes him really compelling."

Q: "I wanted to start out by saying I love this game, but one of my major questions is: What happened with the Lords of Fortune? They have significantly less content and reactivity than the other factions with Rook not even commenting on things that they would already know like Isabela explaining what "Pulling a Barv" is. Similarly, the Lords don't have a theme for the Lighthouse OR colorways or even a real faction quest line like the others have. Were they intended to be a different faction (a qunari/tal vashoth one maybe) and it got swapped late? Where they just added late when time/budget was already running low? Was it determined that fewer players would pick that faction so less resources were allocated? I feel like there's a reason as to why since the difference between playing as a Lord and playing as any other faction feels really extreme."

Corinne: "We always knew that some of the factions needed to have a larger presence in the overall story than others, so when we approached our content planning, we took that into account. They are inherently assymetrical. That said, I think there is a lot of interesting material to now work with in regards to the Lords of Fortune and the Rivain Coast if that's right for another story."

Q: "What was the motivation behind writing the Inquisitior's missives and the ultimate fate of southern Thedas? Is that an area you are likely to revisit in future games? T his question is the result of a lot of discussion that's been had in the fandom as of late and one to which there's no definite answer, but I'm curious: as developers and writers, what features and qualities do you believe make up Dragon Age's core identity?"

Corinne: "Around the time we approached Alpha, we realized that this blight, and the impact of the gods on all of Thedas was so much bigger than what the player would see in the north. We felt this was a natural opportunity to have the Inquisitor serve as that connection to the events happening in the South, to show that the entirety of Thedas was impacted, and the Inquisitor was not one to stand idly by. Sometimes I daydream about exploring the parallel adventures of the Inquisitor in the south while these events are unfolding in the north. That could be a really fascinating tale and perspective. Regarding Dragon Age's core identity. Well, that's a big question and one that will mean different things to different people. I can tell you that internally we've always stood-by the mantra that 'Dragon Age is an experience about people'. That is to say, the setting serves as an opportunity to really explore the depths and motivations of characters during times of crisis, joy, and companionship. Another that I reflect on frequently is how Dragon Age has become a franchise where each game has been different in its approach, and while it can make these titles challenging to develop, it also creates an opportunity to keep the franchise fresh."

Q: "What was the reasoning behind only making Dock Town an explorable area in Minrathous, rather than a combination of areas of the city, such as where the upper class lives?" [I think this comment was edited at some point after posting hence some of the answer below seeming unrelated]

John: "Given the state of Thedas at the end of DATV, Minrathous has become the diplomatic hub for the entire continent. While we could, to some degree, avoid references to the Divine and Ferelden's leader by virtue of this game taking place in Northern Thedas, I don't think that would be possible (or satisfying) going forward. There will, as always, be some choices that we won't reference, but others are, I think, going to be required to tell a coherent story in the future. Focus, more than anything. We originally had a few areas in Minrathous but rather than spread our resources thinly across multiple areas, we chose to focus on Dock Town and make sure it felt coherent and cohesive, as well as doing our best to stamp out any bugs we found. If we ever revisit Minrathous (which I'd love to do), I think we'd spend more time in the other districts. Both Harding and Davrin have specific, non-quantum reasons for being willing to sacrifice everything to stop the gods. For Davrin, he saw Weisshaupt fall - and he had his own opportunity to heroically sacrifice himself taken away. For Harding, she's been on this quest for nearly a decade, and she saw Varric, her friend and mentor, fall. Neve/Lucanis could have worked in either slot but that multiplies the complexity even further - and Neve already was earmarked for the wards."

Q: "During development, did you plan for a cameo of any companion from previous games that ultimately got scrapped? If so, may I ask who? And on this topic, has an appearance of the Hero of Ferelden on the table at any point? Is there a reason they haven't appeared since Origins?"

Corinne: "Thank you so much for the kind words! Glad you enjoyed! While not a companion, for a long while Charter had a role in the game. Ultimately we felt this wasn't the best fit and decided to move away from her appearance. In some cases, the opposite was true, where we added former Companions. Bringing back Isabela was a relatively late call, but we did feel we had the right role for her to fill within the Lords of Fortune. I often think about the role the Hero of Ferelden might play. It's a challenging one due to the choices the player may have made, not to mention how we handle giving them a voice that matches player expectation given they were a silent protaganist. But I do think there is something there, and I would like to explore it, if we can find the right story to tell."

Q: "If an elf were to, say, exist in the Fade for an extended period of time, would they regain the elven magic (if not already a mage) and immortality? 👀 And if, hypothetically, they one day returned to the physical realm, would those qualities persist? (Tried to be as unspoil-y as possible!)"

John: "I think, at this point, no one really knows what's going to happen to an elf who spends an extended time in the Fade. In part because the Elves of today and the Elves of Solas' past are not really the same at all. But also, the Fade has changed since Solas was a spirit. So while he may have theories, he can't say anything for certain."

Q: "Throughout the game there are many hints at a new storyline involving the past of the Qun, The Devouring Storm, and the involvement of The Executors. In what capacity can we expect this new narrative thread to be explored (novels, comics, next game)?"

John: "I think that if these story elements aren't at the core of any new material, they're at the very least going to exist on the periphery. The story of the Evanuris is done - the gods are dead (or imprisoned) and Thedas is in a state of flux and uncertainty. I imagine that whatever happens next is going to be a surprise to everyone, including the people of Thedas."

Q: "I was wondering what happened to the forgotten one and why was he scared of the eye does that mean something or is it just him say that he is scared of going back into the fade"

John: "When Anaris is defeated, he's sent back to the Void. What's there isn't something anyone really knows, but if you read the other Codex entries scattered around Arlathan, it's clear that Anaris has touched something far darker and more dangerous than he expected, and now it has his scent, so to speak."

Q: "Compared to previous installments, Dragon Age: The Veilguard makes an effort to de-centralize the moral complexities of Thedas (i.e. the softening of the Antivan Crows, the lack of slavery seen in Tevinter, etc), instead focusing on choices based on character arcs instead of politics and/or morals. Is this shift an intentional one? If so, should we expect these kinds of character choices to be the new standard for Dragon Age games?"

John: "What worked for DATV isn't necessarily what's going to work for the future. Particularly with Thedas left in the state it's in - the balance of power has shifted dramatically. The South is suffering and the North isn't doing much better. Even those who may have forgotten past prejudices and put aside their differences in the name of stopping the gods are now being faced with a very different world than when they began this fight."

Q: "What other player choices from Inquisition and/or Origins & DA2 would you have liked to have implemented if you had more time and resources? Also, what characters would you have wanted to bring back?"

John: "Well of Sorrows. I think that's the biggest one - and we had some ideas for what we wanted to do with it. Unfortunately, making games is rarely a straight line endeavour, and some of the challenges we ran into required us to scrap that choice. I'd have liked to do more with the Divine as well, though with how little we touched on Andrasteism in this game I think it would've been a bigger challenge than expected. I think Fenris is the easy answer, but it's also the real one. Given his history, his relationship with Dorian and Mae could've been fun to explore, particularly depending on how you left him in DA2. That said, the challenge always does come down to 'quantum' - if a character could be dead, you can't make them load bearing, so they end up relegated to a cameo."

Q: "Is there a canon reason (maybe in some supplemental stories) that explains what happened to Fen'Harel's agents? Are some of the Dalish clans still working for Solas? What are the Arishok and the rest of the Qunari doing while the Antaam are conquering parts of Thedas? Does their absence in veilguard imply that they secretly approve of their actions or are planning on using them to their benefit? The faction of crows we interact with is very heroic and often puts aside their role as assassins in order to protect Treviso's citizens. Does their altruism create fiction between them and the other factions, who might see them as weaker or idealistic? What are some of the other factions like?"

John: "Solas' experience leading the rebellion against the Evanuris turned him against the idea of being a leader. You see it in the memories - the entire experience of being in charge ate at him and, ultimately, convinced him he needed to do this on his own. And his own motivations were very different from the motivations of those who wanted to follow him - he had no real regard for their lives or their goals. So at some point between Trespasser and DATV, he severed that connection with his 'followers' and went back to being a lone wolf. There are Dalish clans who are sympathetic to his goals, but even there, there's an understanding that he's too dangerous to have a more formal connection with, and that he will, ultimately, sacrifice them to his own ends if necessary. The Antaam no longer recognize the authority of the Arishok. Part of why they've split into warring factions of warlords is that they felt his adherence to the Qun (which he still adheres to, even now) was holding them back, so they organized what I'd describe as less of a coup and more of a 'choosing to ignore his orders' and launched their own attack on the mainland. Absolutely. I don't recall if this exchange made it into the final game, so apologies if not, but it's very clear that the faction of Crows you interact with is the 'idealists' of the bunch. The rest of the Crows, on the other hand, are far more pragmatic and willing to work with whoever emerges on top of the pile. Illario's far more representative of the average Antivan Crow than either Teia or Viago, and it's only Caterina that kept him in check this long."

Q: "What led to the player Quanari appearance compared to the Antaam, who look like Quanari from the previous game. Was it an armor modeling issue or just a design choice?"

Corinne: "To be honest, it's both. First let me say that when you have a character creator with the breadth of sliders and options for both head and body, that does create some constraints that you need to work within. We felt this was ultimately a good trade-off for the player, to ensure they could get the full range of face and body sliders that the other lineages were afforded. Also, we viewed the player-created Qunari as a continuation of the style of player-created Qunari in Dragon Age: Inquisition, which in both games, differ from some of the other forms of Qunari we've seen."

Q: "Having reviewed some of the game files, I'm curious about what the "dreamer" mechanics would've looked like? Would there have been dreamers on every map? Would it have just been a dialogue or would we have been able to see/experience the memories/dreams the dreamers are stuck in?"

Corinne: "We explored the idea of Dreamers at several points in developement. I believe the instance you're referring to was a mechanic in which you could encouter a Dreamer in the world, and then also encounter their corresponding consiousness in the Crossroads. We would have used this as a way to encourage a "back-and-forth" set of optional quests and mysteries to encourage exploration and discovery. Ultimately we abandoned the concept because mechanically the Crossroads Gates and corresponding Champions were providing a similar experience in driving the player from the Crossroads, out into the world, and then back to the Crossroads again."

Q: "The hair physics in the game are incredible. When did the studio commit to improving the hair options/physics, and was there any conversation/debate over that? Bad hair has been a staple of the franchise, so this was a delightful change to see."

Corinne: "Thank you so much! We heard the fans loud and clear, when it comes to character customization, that we needed to step up our hair game. This tech was something our engineers, character artists, and technical animators were all deeply passionate about (as you can tell!). So all of that combined it was a relatively early decision to invest in."

Q: "Some of the companions’ questlines left me craving more lore! For example, how did Valta end up as the Oracle and how does her gift differ from Harding’s? How did Zara manage to get Lucanis possessed as a rogue? Are there any other Forgotten Ones like Anaris actively trying to make their way back to the world? In short, might these questions be answered in the next Dragon Age game or additional media, or are they purposefully left open?"

Corinne: "I'm so glad these stories have their hooks in you! We have to leave some threads to tug on for future stories. ;-)"

Q: "(Spoilery question) Do elves or dwarves exist beyond Thedas?"

John: "That's a great question - and it's actually one that Bellara herself asks. I think 'what lies beyond the sea' is one of the most interesting spaces to explore in Dragon Age and whether the same people exist there is something that... well, I have some ideas, but I don't want to get into spoilers."

Q: "What happened to red lyrium? It feels like it was all but forgotten after DAI, even though it is blighted lyrium, and it felt like it would have made perfect sense to dig into its lore and workings a bit more since Ghilan'nain is the mother of the blight, and now knowing what the ancient elves did to the titans for lyrium.Red lyrium caused a lot of grief over the games that feels is just up in the air now, I'm curious if it was written out for the sake of a different narrative. Sortof connected to my previous question, if red lyrium is now not so significant in the lore/missing from it, why did the two gods need a specifically red lyrium dagger after losing Solas' purified red lyrium idol one? How does one purify something/someone of the blight itself?"

John: "Red lyrium is still present in DATV - it's how Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan are able to craft their dagger, after all, and it ties directly into Harding's personal quest - but at a certain point it felt like it wasn't serving much of a purpose 'out in the world', so to speak, that the Blight wasn't already serving. It made a lot more sense in DAI, where you had the Red Templars who were directly using it to gain power, but without them in the picture, we chose to lighten the emphasis on it for DATV. Particularly in a game where the connection and threat of the Blight is so much more immediate, with the gods out in the world."

Q: "How did you get the hair physics to do all that?"

John: "A lot of tremendous work from character art, programming, tech art and tech animation. I'm sure I'm missing some groups but, yeah, the hair really is incredible. I've been on DA since DAO and I recall the (fair) critiques we got of our hair post-DAI. It was incredible to see it come together."

Q: "Where does Emmrich sleep? He’s the only one without a bed in his room lol"

John: "He sleeps standing up, like a horse."

Q: "which of the three/four endings do you find the most thematically satisfying? in regard to solas and/or rook (because i’m not sure the answer is the same for both!) & why isn’t rook invited to the book club?? sorry this is my villain origin story, why is my beloved emmrich enabling this social ostracism. does rook canonically hate to read?"

Corinne: "As a Solavellan, I personally love the Redeem ending with the Inquisitor/Solas romance variant. I cried my eyes out at the end of Trespasser, and now that they can finally be together to know the joys of their love makes me so happy."

John: "I'm a big fan of Outsmart, largely because I think there's something deeply satisfying in outsmarting someone who is very confident about their cleverness and spends a lot of the game reminding you of it. That said, I will admit that the Solavellan ending is deeply moving, even for someone who, at one point, wanted to fight Solas like a Yakuza boss. As for why Rook's not invited - it's entirely an attempt to avoid forcing roleplay on a character that may not fit your idea of Rook. Some people's Rooks may not have the connection to the team that would let the book club make complete sense. That said, I totally get why people wish their Rook could be involved."

Q: "TLDR: ll some classes be buffed? Iirc in an interview corinne (i think? I dont remember where or who), said shield toss got nerfed cuz it was waaaay too strong. Having playing the game now with pretty much all classes, will there be some balancing changes? I definetely dont want shield toss to be nerfed again, i love it soooo much, but its definetely waaaaaay above everything else i managed to build so far."

Corinne: "We're definitely monitoring class balance, and have generally taken the stance of "buff not nerf". That said, we're finding pretty good viability for all of the specializations, with the right supporting skills, gear, and companion builds. So in terms of priority that's lead us to largely focus on addressing properties on skills and gear that were not functioning as intended. I don't want to dismiss your feedback here though - I'll take a moment to dig deeper into our Veil Ranger data and see how those builds are comparing specifically. Glad you're enjoying the shield toss builds. That playstyle was definitely one that we were very excited about supporting!"

Q: "Why did Assan have to die with Davrin in the Ghilan'nain choice?"

Corinne: "Turlum is a powerful bond. There was simply no way Assan would have given up on Davrin so easily. Hope is a powerful force when it comes to the people you love, and sometimes we risk everything for it."

Q: "Something that has me confused. When Bellara/Neve are blighted but help use the blight to stop Elgarnan and at the end when all the blight in the area died and they were cured of the blight. How did they get cured? Is the blight itself now curable? Also, how did Solas manage to cure the red lyrium idol of the blight so he could have it back to it being the normal lyroum dagger?"

John: "When Solas bound himself (or, depending on your ending, was forcibly bound) to the Veil, it severed the connection that the Blight had to the waking world. The reality is that the Veil has been leaking ever since the Magisters first entered the Black City, and the dreams of the Titans gave it its terrible and awesome power. Now that the Veil is fully repaired, the Blight lacks that motive force, and being so close to the epicenter of that change has stripped the Blight in Minrathous of its vitality. It's calcified now - dead - and Bellara/Neve no longer suffer its effects. If they'd been anywhere else, further from that epicenter, it would've likely been different and they still would be looking for a cure. But without that power behind it, it's less dangerous and deadly than it's ever been before. So while it isn't generally 'curable', it's less of a short-term death sentence than it has been previously. As for how Solas cleansed the idol - another ritual. This one was much smaller scale, but a lot more dangerous."

Q: "What lead you to the decision to step away from active conversations with the companions as in previous Bioware games, where you can initiate them at any moment and ask exhaustive questions?"

John: "For us, because of tech limitations, it became a choice between exhaustive investigate conversations, or letting the companions move more freely around the Lighthouse. With the kind of experience we were going for, one where seeing the team grow around you is paramount, we felt that seeing them interact in common spaces (and in each other's rooms) made more sense."

Q: "I have just one very important question: what are your thoughts on Solas and Rook as a pairing? Their chemistry and interactions were a highlight in the game for me personally and I need to be able to sass and then kiss that egghead."

Corinne: "Oh gosh, you and me both! I'm not sure any of us could have anticipated how notable that chemistry turned out. And what excites me is how this relationship is something that could be developed even further."

Q: "I was wondering if it would be possible to see Cassandra in Nevarra interacting with Emmerich or Zevran in Antiva interacting with Lucanis? I understand that there a danger of turning any game into a cameo fest that would only appeal to old school fans but I did miss them. Especially as we had Isabella and Dorian in Rivain and Tevinter. To make the question a little more general what are the chances of seeing pre veilguard companions in any future iteration of dragonage?"

John: "I think the joy of the kind of 'fresh start' that the end of The Veilguard gives us is that, if we do make another game, we're no longer spending so much of the early game not only onboarding players into a new story, but also onboarding some of them (namely, those who didn't play DAI or don't remember it) into the story that leads up to this story. And part of what that allows you is more opportunity for returning characters who are meaningful, because their past is less likely to be narratively load bearing to the story. People who recognize them will have a moment of recollection, and people who don't won't be any more confused by the experience."

Q: "How did Jowin achieve the rank of First Warden? Was he ever deserving of the kind of respect Davrin seemed to have for him?"

John: "By the time you meet Jowin in DATV, he's become a political creature more than anything else. Which makes sense - after what happened to the Order in Origins, I think there was an internal realization that they had to spend more time making nice with the leaders of the various countries so no one would ever do to them again what Loghain did back then. But he didn't get that position entirely due to his connections. He was a fearsome warrior and a brave Warden in his own right, saving people and winning against impossible odds time and time again. He's older, though, and is still fighting the last war in his mind. Internally, we always described him as the general who was a brilliant tactician back in his time, but war has changed so dramatically and he refuses to keep up. I think he was deserving of that respect, though - and if you choose to talk him down (which very few of you seem to have done) you'll get a glimpse of the man he used to be."

Q: "If Solas ritual succeeded, what would have happened to the elves? And to the human? The art book make it look like they just drop dead but solas dialogs don't seems to go in that direction"

John: "I think the reality is that even Solas couldn't properly answer that question. In his mind, there would be some pain and suffering, for sure, as everyone adjusted to the raw magic now pouring into the world and the demons everywhere, but eventually everyone would live surrounded by magic and possibility. Immortality would be possible as well, and you can't make a world saving omelette without breaking a few eggs. I also think Solas is a gifted liar to everyone, including himself. Deep down he knew that the ritual was going to result in large scale casualties, but he saw it as an acceptable price to pay to fix what he saw as his mistake."

Q: "Unlike the last game, there were 2 fewer Companions, a rouge, and a warrior less, if it was up to you what sort of characters would fill up those two spots? and also if you could have a character from earlier games temporarily join you for a single quest who would you choose? with the exception of Bioware games which RPG game is your favorite"

Corinne: "Oh gosh, well I'll answer some of questions 1 & 2 together... I would have loved to bring back Fenris, either as a cameo or to fill that Warrior slot. As for the Rogue role, I do think something akin to the Saboteur Specialization would have been an interesting style for a Companion. Favorite RPG outside of BioWare games, well I'll give you three in order: Baldur's Gate 3, then Xenogears, followed by FFXII."

Q: "What happens to the lighthouse and the crossroads after the end of the game? Do the Veiljumpers claim it?"

Corinne: "Good question! I actually daydream about this one a lot! Does Rook, assuming they survived, continue to reside there given what they'd been through with Solas? Is stewardship returned to the Elven people? One thing has always been true for me: The Lighthouse existing as it does is intrinsically linked to the Caretaker, and I doubt we've seen the last of them."

Q: "My questions are mainly centered around the game's lore. Dragon Age Veilguard seems to have established a very elf centric past for the world as well as the races populating the world. Current state of the Titans, the Blight, the Old Gods, and some other things I may be forgetting, they all have links and origins to the Evanuris and the rest of the elves. In future installments, can we hope for other races to get more attention with respect to this? Because right now, it feels that most of the biggest mysteries of the universe as well as circumstances leading to the present state of the world, are a result of the elves... T o me, the magic system in Veilguard felt very different from the other games in the series. When Bellara mentioned stuff like 'recalibrate the matrices', 'readjusting energy flow', etc., it felt more scifi than fantasy. None of the past Dragon Age games had this kind of talk and it felt too big a leap for going from Southern Thedas to the North, especially considering none of the Northern characters in past Dragon Age games spoke like this either. This was one of the few instances in the game that felt immersion breaking to me. Can you guys help reconcile Veilguard's magic system with the magic of the past games?"

John: "I do agree that the elves have had their place in the sun at this point. We're never going to stop telling stories about the elves, but I think there are plenty of interesting stories to tell in Thedas where the Evanuris are tertiary characters at most. I think that's a fair reaction, but I'll answer the question in two parts. First - Bellara assumes she knows everything about magic. She probably knows more about the way ELVEN magic works better than anyone else in the world who isn't an Evanuris - but that doesn't mean she actually knows how magic itself works. The thing about the Evanuris is that, ultimately, they were able to take a very specific type of magic and shape it into doing what they wanted. But even their understanding of magic was only skin deep. Bellara and Emmrich get into this a little bit in their banter, but so much of the rest of the world - the magic of death that the Mourn Watch wield, for example, or the magic of the deep Fade that Bellara feels when she does some of her experiments in the lighthouse - is not the same as Elven magic. Even the magic that Tevinter wields, the magic of the Southern mages, is different from what the Evanuris used. The magic of the Evanuris is powerful but it's sterile, and it's constrained. So while the Evanuris have made magic work in a way that's more predictable and understandable, it's not the only kind of magic out there, and even then, I'd say they understood it at a very surface level. People were confidently describing how the natural world worked back in the 16th century. Very few of them were right."

Q: "I need to know about companion approval! I understand how companion bond rank works as it is well explained and visible in-game, but I cannot seem to find a good explanation for approval. Are the two linked? What effect does approval/disapproval have in the game? Is there something I'm missing in-game where current approval level is visible and I just haven't found it yet? PS: Spellblade Supremacy"

Corinne: "Yes! They are linked! Approval does contribute a small-to-moderate amount of progress towards your Bond. Disapproval is a small negative, but it's important to note that your Bond cannot de-level. Overall however, the surest way to advance your Bond is by helping the Companions with their personal quests. Also, really glad you enjoyed Spellblade as much as we did! The gameplay team really outdid themselves with that Specialization."

Q: "I'm mostly wondering if/how the griffons can be saved as a species since there's only one surviving clutch. It seems like a lack of genetic diversity would doom them to re-extinction, but I'm hoping there's a lore-friendly way to overcome that."

John: "It's funny you say that because I keep thinking the exact same thing. I can't remember exactly how much genetic diversity you need to have to make a species viable but I am sure it's more than just the clutch of eggs you saved from the Gloom Howler. But in a setting with as much magic and mystery as Dragon Age, I think that's probably the least of the problems the Griffons are going to face going forward."

Q: "With the ending showing a cured Neve/Bellara is that implying that the Blight outside of the Fade has been cured? If so, do Wardens no longer hear the calling, and what does that mean for the Kal-Sharok dwarves? Especially curious about this since DA:I implied the HoF was searching for a cure to the calling. In the concept art book it seemed like there were plans to show us more of Minrathous/Tevinter than just Dock Town. Curious to know what changed and if we will ever have an opportunity to return to other areas of the city?"

John: "The Blight is forever changed. It's less perilous and less virulent than it was before, and whatever motive force was coming through the Veil to empower it at the end of the game has been severed. That said, it still exists in some form, and not everyone is going to be cured in the same way. Beyond that - the Wardens no longer hear the whisper of the Calling, but right at the edges of perception, they're hearing something. What is it? Great question. With how long this game's been in development, there are things that have come and gone over time as we shift the project's scope and direction from one type of game to another. Originally we did have more of Minrathous built out for the player, but we chose to focus on making Dock Town feel meaningfully full of content instead of creating more areas just to put nothing in them. I will say that, for me, I want to revisit Minrathous in the future. I don't think we gave it enough time and there are multiple other stories that can be told both in it and with it. Particularly with the way the game ends, its importance in the world has only gone up, as it's become the diplomatic hub of Thedas, and thus a place of even greater importance in the world."

Q: "Maybe someone else can answer this question but why does Mythal’s essence relieve Solas of his guilt in the romanced Inquisitor ending when in his memories, she’s objecting to what he’s doing? Since winged dragons are female, does that mean the Archdemons/Old Gods are female? I noticed they’re labeled as male on the wiki and was unsure if it’s not updated or Old God followers assumed or were told they were male. I understand if this might pose as a logistical nightmare but would the devs consider polyamorous and/or open relationships instead of monogamy if they haven’t already? Given how diverse sexuality is in Thedas, I’m surprised there aren’t more instances of poly/open relationships. I miss going to brothels too"

John: "People grow and change over time. Mythal's essence - and in particular, the fragment of her spirit that Morrigan carries, that she got from Flemeth - is not the same Mythal who he knew millennia ago. Centuries of living in this world and being around the kinds of people Flemeth found herself around - the Hero of Ferelden, Hawke, the Inquisitor - changed her views, and made her realize her own culpability in turning Solas into the kind of person he is now. Correct, all Archdemons are female. Elgar'nan, of course, doesn't really care what reality is, only what HIS reality is, and so he's quite happy to see Lusacan as simply being an extension of himself and, thus, male. Something about Elgar'nan that we only really show in the ending is that he is, in truth, just as scarred and blighted as Ghilan'nain, but he uses a portion of his magic to always look handsome and regal, because his ego really is that big. Polyamory is something we've talked about doing before, and it's something that I know the writing team was into, but rather than simply turning it into a 'you can have multiple romances' toggle we wanted to be sure we did it respectfully and properly."

Q: "Does Solas know about the Executors and will he ever appear again in future games (similar to Morrigan)? Was there ever a point that the Inquisitor was considered as the main or secondary protagonist for this game? It was interesting to have a person with no knowledge about Solas–a cunning, ancient elven god–try to track him down especially when that anonymity did not work in their favor anyway (Solas knew about Rook for a year prior to meeting). Was 'rook' initially an alias for the Inquisitor, which they'd utilize to stay under the radar in the north, away from Solas' agents eyes and able to track him down because they knew him well (ex-companion/friend/lover)? Like was this idea ever discussed at the table or suggested by writers but trunked for xyz reasons? Idon't know if Trick Weekes will see this but I just wanted to tell them thank you for writing Solas-- in a HEA ending, what do you think they're upto in the prison? (besides the obvious)"

John: "Solas knows more about the Executors than he's let on - in fact, he knows more about the Executors than any other living being, including the other Evanuris (though I suppose they're not technically living beings anymore). But even he isn't entirely sure what they're up to or who they actually are. Their paths have crossed before, though - beyond the Tevinter Nights story that they briefly show up in. As to whether he appears again - I think it's fair to say Solas' story is done, at least for now. Even back in early development, the protagonist for this game was always going to be someone other than the Inquisitor. I don't recall if, in those early days, we ever discussed the possibility of bringing them back - the struggle with having the same protagonist game after game is that you really do paint yourself into a corner. Either it becomes prohibitively expensive to account for branching, or you ultimately underserve the very people you're bringing them back for. Rook was always the protagonist, though in very early days Rook had a number of other potential monikers including Shrike and a number of other bird names that I do not remember."

Q: "Why aren’t the Tranquil ever mentioned or depicted in the game? Correct me if I’m wrong but I’m pretty sure the word tranquil isn’t used even once. Have they been retconned? During development was there ever a conversation about potentially including a Solas wins ending? Where he succeeds in tearing down the Veil either because you let him or because you fail to stop him? I know I’d be curious to see what Thedas would look like afterward."

John: "Tranquility still exists. While not unheard of in Tevinter, the reality is that it's a far more common punishment in Southern Thedas than it ever was in Tevinter. In Tevinter, in particular, it's used more of a tool of political vengeance - but generally, only against a mage who is utterly without allies or political power. All the Tevinter mages you encounter in DATV, including Maevaris, still have some clout and subjecting them to the rite would be a huge expenditure of political capital for very little gain. Better to leave them alive and stripped of their formal authority. We had a few conversations about some non-standard game over endings, actually - anywhere from 'player takes too long in the Prologue' to an out-and-out 'yeah you know what I think I'll help Solas' conversation choice early on. What we released in the game I'm happy with though, as there are already multiple different endings you can get depending on your choices in the game."

Q: "Any chance we're going to get any behind-the-scenes content? I CRAVE a high-quality video clip of Zach doing mocap for Assan."

Corinne: "You never know! We do enjoy sharing new content from the game on our social channels so follow along in case something pops up."

Q: "What was your favourite region/area to work on (whether that be writing quests, level design, or any aspect)?"

Corinne: "For me, it was definitely Arlathan Forest. The team had so much fun with the exploration, the environmental storytelling, and the strange magic manifesting in the area. In particular I remember the first time I saw people that had been twisted into trees showing up in the area, I was taken back by the inventiveness of the team in capturing that beauty in horror. I must say, I also found the sightlines in the area absolutely gorgeous. It was really fun to watch it develop."

Q: "What are these called? [link]"

John: "Tadpoles is the name we use internally."

Q: "are telemetry surprising you in any regard?"

Corinne: "The biggest surprise for me in the telemetry is that the Save Minrathous/Treviso choice is basically split 50/50. We were all anticipating that saving Treviso would be the clear winner, but I'm happy to see it's not so cut and dry."

Q: "Did you ever thought that players would be addicted to having Rook barrel through crates and chests? There should be an Achievement for non stop barrel rolls lol."

Corinne: "Oh 100% yes! In fact, originally wide-spread destructibles weren't really planned for as a part of the game. We found with our particular take on combat that it just felt reaaaally good to smash the few destructibles that we did have. I think I spent the better part of a year putting in constant requests to make more and more things smash and break apart - not to mention the ability to roll through them! I'm glad to see I'm not alone in my obsession. Let's go break things!!"

Q: "1) Was there any plan with Radonis during concept period? 2) What more about Neve's family can you share? 3) Is there a parallel in the way Solas sacrificed the world to restore the elven world and Celene burned Halamshiral to save Orlais from a civil war? (Trick Weekes p l e a s e)"

Corinne: "At one point we did toy with having Radonis make an actual appearance in the game. In fact, if Minrathous falls to the Venatori, we had discussed having his execution on display, but we ultimately chose not to pursue this."

John: "For Neve, I'll have to ask Neve's writer, as I don't recall off the top of my head. For the question about Solas - I think it's less a direct parallel and more that Dragon Age is a series where major players sometimes have to make incredibly difficult decisions that may NOT necessarily be the best decision, but it's the best for them at the time - true for both Solas and Celene."

Q: "I just want to know... do the other companions also think Davrin's a hunk? Do you think there are companions who were rooting for a Rook x Companion romance as it was happening?"

John: "I think the different companions have different relationships with Davrin. Bellara, for example, sees him as almost a big brother - someone who she has a unique connection that she doesn't share with the other companions. Neve sees him as a fellow professional, who hunts monsters in much the same way as she does, just that his monsters are a lot more literal. As for who's rooting for a romance - I think Bellara is just excited whenever people get together. She's a huge romantic and a believer in happy ever after, so she's going to fully support whoever of her friends get together."

Q: "Please humor my newfound Nevarran cuisine obsession - it seems, based on the menu at the Lords of Fortune bar, that Nevarra is majority vegetarian ("want it Nevarran-style? Ask to leave off the meat!" or something like that), and we know Emmrich is a vegetarian. But Emmrich also reveals his father was a poor butcher. So, my questions - Who is eating the meat produced by Nevarran butchers if Nevarra is vegetarian enough that other countries equate Nevarran = veggie? Do butchers largely cater to non-Nevarran immigrants or visitors? Are the Mortalitasi/Mourn Watch entirely vegetarian (would make sense, just because of being put off by being around corpses all day, and their reverence for said corpses)"

John: "While Nevarra is a primarily vegetarian country, that doesn't mean everyone who lives there is a vegetarian. Nevarra attracts plenty of students and scholars from around the world, given its unique connection to the Necropolis and the specific magic tutelage that the Mourn Watch offers. With that in mind, its cuisine is going to be pretty broad across a number of different cultures and regions - and for some of those cuisines, meat is absolutely a very big part of it."

Q: "My biggest question is this: if Solas had been released by Mythal before Inquisition started, would he have let go of his plan? Was service to her all that was motivating him? Or would he have decided to continue with his plan until the inquisition showed him that the modern world mattered?"

John: "The latter, I think. It took the confluence of everything that's happened to him in the time since he woke back up to get him to where he needed to be for the Redeem ending. Guilt and regret motivate Solas."

Q: "When I’m writing, I tend to listen to music that goes along with it. Did any of the Devs have songs they listened to that they felt tied into the game or the characters?"

John: "I can't speak to the other writers necessarily, but for Bellara I listened to a LOT of Aphex Twin. There's something about the ambient weirdness that really worked for me as I was writing her character (to the point that one of their songs is my most listened song in 2024)."

Q: "Are rivalry paths abandoned for Bioware games? What made you design approval/bond in a way that only goes up?"

Corinne: "Oh definitely not! Rivalry will continue to have a role when the story calls for it. In the case of Veilguard, we conceived of this threat being so large, that your companions would commit no matter the cost. This afforded us some unique opportunities, like being able to tie the progression of the Companions to your relationship with them."

Q: "What are you as a team most proud of and are there any plans for a NG+ Update ?"

Corinne: "Gosh, there are so many ways I could answer this. And I think the answer would differ depending on who on the team you were to ask. So let me just say this: The creation of any game of this scope, with a team this large, is kind of miraculous when you consider all the knowledge, coordination, discussion, and expertise required. So broadly speaking, what I'm most proud of is the way the team came together to pivot and be true to BioWare's roots of creating great single-player party-based RPGs, and delivered such quality and stablity. I'm also quite proud of how player-first the effort was; Everything from being Steam native, to no Denuvo, to no micro transactions. We mustn't take for granted what monumental task it was to make this happen. There are individual features and experiences that I know we are all proud of as well. The character creator, for example, was a really big one for us. We've long sought to put the control over player-characters in the hands of the fans, and this is the game where the team believes we've best done that. In fact, it was central to one of our creative pillars "Be who you want to be". As for NG+, that's something we discussed, but at this point we don't have any plans to support it."

Q: "Can you go into more detail of Spite’s role in Rook and Lucanis’s romance? Did you expect everyone to want to romance Vorgoth?"

John: "Spite gives Lucanis and Rook privacy whenever they're being intimate. This was, I'm sure you'll be surprised to hear, a consistent topic of discussion as we planned out some of our romance scenes - is Spite watching? But no, he wanders off and reads a book (or whatever demons do for fun). At this point I am not surprised about anyone y'all want to romance. Sentient fog bank? Sure"

Q: "Looking further, what parts of Thedas you personally want to explore more (regardless if that will or will not be implemented in the future games)? Maybe specific time periods?"

John: "I don't think it's any secret that I find the idea of 'what lies across the sea' to be fascinating. It shows up a lot in Bellara's content - what happened in the parts of the world that weren't Thedas? But Kal-Sharok is another place I'd love to spend more time in. It has a very unique relationship to dwarven culture, and particularly in a post-DATV world, it feels like it'd be super interesting to get more time with them."

Q: "What made you decide to remove greatswords as an option? It's one of The fantasy weapons. Why did you choose to have a "convergent" design, gameplay wise, of classes? What i mean is that all classes have a melee option, a "parry" of sorts, amd a ranged option, with warriors throwing a nonexistent shield when 2h. Usually, in an rpg, different classes have different capabilities and limits, to make them feel more diverse. What made you choose otherwise?"

Corinne: "Originally when we concieved the 2-handed weapon stance for Warrior we did want to include Greatswords. We moved away from it largely because the movement set when swinging a large blade diverges quite a bit from what you'd see with an axe or a hammer. Ultimately we felt, given the number of bespoke animations and transitions it would take, that the time is better invested in other areas of the experience. Regarding the classes, we opted for a unified control scheme and baseline set of actions each could take (e.g. every class having a ranged attack for example) for several reasons: 1. In knowing that each class has a similar core set of actions, it allowed to better design the encounters, levels, and missions with a greater level of variety. If Warrior, for example, had no ranged attack, a large number of the missions would have much more egregious constraints on what we expect the player to do. 2. It allowed us significantly more space to play with the types of builds and breath of the skill tree. We're all very proud of how this played out in practice, and in our view created a high degree of divergence. 3. Given the real-time nature of the gameplay, it's a benefit to lean into the muscle memory the players have already established on prior playthroughs"

Q: "Hi I'm non-binary and the ability to be non-binary in this game was really special and made me feel seen in a way no game has before. In addition---TAASH! "NUFF SAID. Love em! My question is: how did you get so much past censors in 2024? How did you deal with localization? Was EA supportive of the push for more representation? Do you think we can see more diverse companions like Taash and our own player character in the future in Bioware games? I am a little worried about the backlash to Taash and the player character, especially right now. It is scary to think about going backwards after you've just achieved this amazing thing for video games. Thank you so much for making me feel so loved playing a video game, this game gives me so much hope and joy for being a trans gamer and nerd and person. I know there's a lot of hate but for me it means the world."

Corinne: "I'm so glad Taash meant so much to you, and so many others! There are two mantras we often refer to within the team: 1. We believe stories are better when they reflect a large variety of relatable experiences. 2. Games can be a reflection of the teams that make them. Taash's journey and support we had in bringing it to life, was something everyone on the team wanted to do and was invested in. It was a story and experience we wanted to tell that made sense in this time and place. I wont lie, it wasn't easy. This is a delicate subject, deserving of respect, that is deeply personal to so many. We didn't want to mess it up, especially for those it would mean the most to. We were fortunate to have a lot of support through internal and external partners to ensure we were handling this story with care, and of course the talented writing and experience of Trick Weekes. It lead to a lot of edits, localization challenges, and some rewrites. But as the old adage goes, nothing worth having comes easy."

Q: "If Solas is bald because the ancient elves just go bald during their immortal lifespans, then why does Elgar’nan have hair?"

John: "I think maybe it's more accurate to say that Solas lost hair because of stress. Elgar'nan, on the other hand, doesn't feel stress - he makes other people feel stress. And, honestly, Elgar'nan is incredibly vain. Something that doesn't show up until the end game is that he's also very vain. The reason he doesn't look blighted and corrupted throughout the game is he uses a portion of his magic to remain looking the way he does."

Q: "In the DAI trespasser DLC elves saw the crossroads different from the other races. Why was that not the case in this game?"

John: "The Caretaker gets into it a little bit, but while the Crossroads in Trespasser were 'peaceful', the Crossroads in DATV are under assault by the gods."

Q: "If you could start DAI or DATV again, what would you change/add/remove? Could you share with us the most emotionally difficult moment to achieve in DATV? And the easiest? Favorite moment?"

Corinne: "One of the most difficult moments to land was actually the prologue. It sets up a lot of context for the player, and evokes a lot of big feelings. We did many revisions on it before we found the right balance of pacing, information, and tension. In my experience, prologues always are among your most reworked content"

John: "Absolutely the Varric twist. There's always a balance of trying to leave hints for the players while not having them guess the ultimate end game of it, and it's INCREDIBLY hard to make that judgment yourself, because you KNOW what's coming, and all you can see is 'how could anyone NOT get that this is coming?' But I'm happy with how it was received and how it landed. The actual conversation with Varric at the end, though - that one was a gut punch."

Q: "So… does Bianca know?"

John: "Yeah. Harding would have gotten word to her."

Q: "I'm curious to know two things, both Solas related: -What happened to his followers? Presumably they weren't /just/ following him and were on board with the revolution that he represented. -What was his plan past making a new prison and transferring the two Evanuris? It sounds like still an eventual tearing down of the Veil but how was he actually mitigating the risks across Thedas? (Presumably with that network of followers)"

John: "Essentially that. Keep the Evanuris imprisoned, tear down the Veil, and then Solas was CERTAIN everything would get better, even if some people had to, tragically, die. One of Solas' defining characteristics, of course, is that he overestimates how successful his plans are going to be (if you listen carefully to the argument between Solas and Varric in the prologue, Varric makes this exact point - everything Solas has tried ended in disaster, so why wouldn't this as well?) As to mitigating the risks - he had a few things going on, but as to how effective they would've been, I think it's safe to say that it wouldn't have worked as well as he'd hoped."

Conclusion: "We've answered everything we can for now, thank you all so much for your questions and the love for Dragon Age!"

[source]

[foxtrology]

thank fuck you're not complete done with that harry castillo universe because I've barely finished the last chapter and I already miss them 🥹 could you write prompt 31, pretty please? 🥺

dad! harry castillo

prompt 31: harry takes adella to the bookstore and ends up reading four picture books aloud on the floor. two people recognize him. he doesn’t care.

prompt list

⸻

The plan had been simple.

In and out.

One quick stop at the bookstore for the new release Adella’s preschool teacher had mentioned—the one about a grumpy squirrel and a weather balloon or something equally ridiculous—and then back home before lunch.

That had been the plan.

But Harry Castillo had long since learned that plans—especially ones involving six-year-olds with untamable curls and big, curious eyes—meant absolutely nothing.

It was drizzling when they left the house, the kind of late spring rain that didn’t quite warrant umbrellas but still managed to soak through clothes if you stayed outside too long.

Adella had insisted on wearing her yellow rain boots even though the bookstore was only a few blocks away, and Harry—who had once made men cry in negotiation rooms—simply nodded and grabbed the matching coat from the peg by the door.

She splashed in every puddle along the sidewalk.

He didn’t rush her.

The bell above the bookstore door chimed softly as they stepped inside. It was warm and dry, the kind of cozy space that smelled like cinnamon and paper and the faintest trace of whatever candle the owner kept burning on the front counter. The lights were low and golden, and the jazz playing through the speakers was gentle enough to feel like background breathing.

Adella gasped.

Not dramatically—just that quiet, delighted sound she always made when entering places she loved. Her mitten-sized hand tightened around his, and Harry looked down just in time to see her eyes go wide at the sight of the children’s section.

“Can we stay a little bit?” she asked, already tugging at his arm.

He didn’t hesitate.

“Of course.”

She led him there like she’d been born in that bookstore. Past the poetry wall, through the shelves of new fiction, around a table stacked with cookbooks where she paused to point at a pie and whisper, “You should make that for mommy.” Harry grunted in agreement, mentally adding lemon meringue to the next grocery list.

By the time they reached the children’s nook, her raincoat had been unzipped and her curls had started to frizz from the weather. She didn’t care. She had spotted the beanbag chairs. And the bookshelf shaped like a tree.

Harry didn’t bother with the adult-sized reading bench. He was on the floor in seconds, long legs folding awkwardly beneath him, back pressed against the soft cushion of a floor pillow that clearly hadn’t been designed with six-foot men in mind.

Adella dropped to his side with the dramatic flair of a child in her own kingdom.

“Okay,” she said, breathless with excitement. “Pick four.”

“Four?”

“Four books, daddy.” She grinned, one front tooth missing, the other slightly wiggly. “That’s how many we can read before snack.”

He gave a mock sigh. “Only four?”

“For now.”

He let her choose.

Of course he did.

The first one was about a cow who wanted to be a ballerina.

Harry read every word. In a very bad French accent.

Adella giggled so hard she snorted, and he grinned so wide it made the edges of his eyes crinkle.

The second was about a brave girl pirate with a pink eyepatch and a sidekick parrot who only spoke in riddles. Adella leaned against him the whole time, warm and heavy, her head on his shoulder, legs kicked up like she didn’t have a care in the world.

By the third, a quiet story about a raccoon who built a treehouse for all his friends, she had started mouthing some of the words along with him.

And by the fourth—a ridiculous tale about a dragon who was afraid of the dark—Harry had stopped noticing the faint ache in his back or the way his foot had fallen asleep.

He was fully in it. All of it.

Reading in the corner of a bookstore with his daughter in his lap, surrounded by pillows and the soft rustle of pages and the occasional squeal of a toddler from the other aisle.

People stared.

Of course they did.

Two women near the café section exchanged hushed whispers behind travel mugs. One of them snapped a quick photo with her phone, trying to be subtle. Another man, standing by the nonfiction shelf, did a double-take.

Harry Castillo. That Harry Castillo. On the floor of a bookstore with his knees poking out awkwardly from a child-sized nook, his voice animated, his tone ridiculous, his daughter giggling so hard she nearly fell over.

Harry didn’t notice.

Or maybe he did.

And he just didn’t give a damn.

Because this—this was what mattered now.

Not the company he’d once obsessed over. Not the Forbes headlines or the nameplate on the door of an office he hadn’t stepped inside in almost three years. Not the whispers about his age or the commentary about becoming a father so late in life.

He was late. Sure.

But he wasn’t too late.

And she—his daughter, his firecracker, his reason—was worth every second of that delay.

At one point, Adella looked up at him, curls slightly sweaty from leaning against his chest, eyes heavy with the kind of soft, satisfied glow only good mornings bring.

“Mommy would like this one,” she whispered, pointing to the ballerina cow book again.

“She would,” Harry agreed, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“We should bring it home.”

He nodded. “Done.”

“And we should tell her about the dragon.”

“We’ll act it out at dinner.”

“And maybe next time—”

“There will be a next time,” he interrupted gently, squeezing her hand. “There’s always a next time with you.”

She beamed.

Eventually, they did head home.

With five books in a paper bag—Adella had added one last-minute “for Frances”—and two hot chocolates from the corner café that Harry said were overpriced but bought anyway.

By the time they walked back through the front door, her boots were soaked, and her cheeks were flushed pink, and Harry’s shirt had a faint smear of whipped cream down the front where she’d hugged him too quickly with sticky fingers.

His wife was in the kitchen, apron dusted with flour, humming to a song playing low from her phone speaker.

She looked up as they entered, eyes warm.

“Good time?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

Harry nodded.

“She made me read four books on the floor,” he said, setting the bag down with a mock groan.

Adella grinned. “He did voices.”

She laughed, crossing the room to kiss his cheek. “Of course he did.”

Later, after lunch and a bath and a half-hour of chasing Frances out of the pantry, Adella was curled up in bed for her nap, and Harry stood at the foot of her mattress, just… watching.

Not hovering.

Just being.

“She’s getting so big,” he murmured.

His wife came up beside him, slipping an arm around his waist. “She’s still your little girl.”

He didn’t say anything.

Just nodded.

And when he slipped his hand into his back pocket later that night, emptying the day’s contents onto his dresser, he found one of the bookstore receipts folded neatly around a crayon drawing Adella had made while sipping her hot chocolate.

It was a picture of them. Him on the floor, book in hand. Her curled up in his lap. Frances, inexplicably wearing a crown.

He tucked it into the drawer next to the watch he rarely wore anymore.

And smiled.

Because even in his sixties, even after everything, Harry Castillo had never been happier to be recognized as just a dad.

And he knew, deep in his bones, he’d read her another book tomorrow.

And the next day.

And the next.

Forever, if she’d let him.

[chow0w]

(Re)Designing a winglet! - part 1/7

Hello my beautiful blog readers, happy Wednesday!

While going through my procreate files, I found a jumpscare of an old drawing I made from a winglet I created in 2020. Looking at your old artwork is never fun, but it did give a good idea: redesigning all of these characters! Now that I've improved a lot, it will be cool to see how I can upgrade these designs and characters. I don't remember much about them, so I'm going in as blind as you!

For any artists following my work, these weekday posts are going to be a great time for me to explore my process as a designer/writer + the tricks I use to transform characters!

I REALLY do not want to hear a word about this old art. I can't believe I'm posting it. yes in hindsight it's not that bad but like omg. Sorry about the image quality throughout this post - a lot of these are cropped photos so they're very blurry.

To start off, here's the old character I want to redesign first!

I literally only have his name to go off, but based on first impression this guy seems annoying. He's giving me the energy of someone with high ego and low grades, and his name (Ficus) references Figs. The first thing we should do is fix his headshot, and try to emulate the qualities we know about already!

Identifying key features is important: his frills, eyebrows, smile and horns stood out to me the most because they seem to be what show his personality.

This is so much better! I amplified the key features we just found, and used my knowledge of shape to create consistency in his design. Ficus' expression also got an upgrade, and he looks much more natural in this mid-conversation pose. He reminds me a lot of that cocky snake from the Sahara (If anyone watched that as a kid).

Reading into the name, figs can often symbolize new growth or development - which gives me a lot of ideas about this character! Maybe Ficus is a dragon who starts the story as cocky/self-righteous, but unlearns his bad habits and becomes a more enjoyable person. Maybe he doesn't. Maybe he just gets worse as the story goes along - he's proven right one time and turns into an even more insufferable classmate.

It's important to think about group dynamics when creating a character, especially if they operate in a group setting. Does Ficus get along with his classmates? Do they like him? Do they know how to cooperate, and how does that impact their performance in times of crisis? I would argue that group dynamics can be one of the most influential aspects of a story: they don't just dictate the plot, but the tone of your story and how your audience reacts.

Here's my complete sketchpage for Ficus! I added a full body doodle so we could get a better reference of how he looks, as well as a small sketch of him lounging in a hammock and talking about how great he is. I'm going to leave this uncolored for now, but I might come back to it later!

--

Thank you so much my returning readers + all of you who made it this far! I love talking about art and WoF so this really is a win-win for me. To anyone wondering about the redesigns, those are still happening! I plan on releasing them over the weekend as larger batches, so these conversation posts are just here to fill my blog during the work week. I always love hearing what you guys think of my designs, so don't hesitate to let me know! As always, my askbox is open to redesign requests + general questions or comments!

( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

[lizzyiii]

just wondering 👉🏼👈🏼 when the next update of his lady love will be? i’m just so excited for the next chapter im OBSESSED with the story 👻

I'm so sorry I took this long, I've been having a mental block with this

His Lady Love (9)

pairing | aemond targaryen x vampire!mikaelson!reader

taglist | to be added to the taglist just add your username to this DOC

word count | 3,8k words

summary | finally you make your return back to king's landing and reunite with aemond

tags | hurt/comfort,

note | I'm so sorry I took so long

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

The storm had raged for a week, battering the old farmstead with rain and howling winds. Inside, the small prince had finally begun to show signs of recovery. Jaehaerys, once pale and on the verge of death, now had the flush of life back in his cheeks, thanks to the small doses of your ancient vampire blood. His eyes, once glazed and distant, now held a quiet strength. Despite his reserved nature, the boy had grown fond of you in his own way, calling you “munās”

The crumbling farm had served its purpose. Though it was no Red Keep, the rations you had scavenged from Tym’s meager cupboards had been enough to sustain the both of you. Tym, the unfortunate soul whose blood had been your own sustenance, now lay rotting in a closet—his death no more significant than a footnote in a much larger story. The smell of his decaying body was thick in the air, but it hardly bothered you. In your long life, you had smelled far worse.

Outside, the rain had finally ceased. The journey back to King’s Landing would be dangerous, but necessary. You could already envision the uproar awaiting your and Jaehaerys’ return. Let them fret; it was no concern of yours.

You gathered what little provisions were left and tucked them into a satchel, slinging it over your shoulder. The food wasn’t for you, of course, but for the prince. He would need his strength if he was to survive the coming days. As you approached Jaehaerys, he looked up at you with a small, fleeting smile—a gesture that melted your dead heart. Without a word, you draped a thick cloak over his shoulders, pulling the hood low to hide his silver Targaryen hair. The last thing you needed was to draw unwanted attention on the road.

The air was damp and heavy as you stepped outside, the smell of wet earth mingling with the distant scent of the ocean. You hoisted the boy onto your horse, his small frame easily fitting in front of you. The skies were still dark, but the rain had stopped for now. With a flick of the reins, the horse began its slow trot down the muddy path.

As you approached the towering walls of King’s Landing, the familiar stench of sweat and desperation thickened in the air. Your grip on Jaehaerys tightened, pulling him closer to you as your sharp senses took in the chaotic scene ahead. The streets swarmed with restless peasants, their voices a cacophony of rage and despair, echoing through the narrow alleyways that led to the Red Keep.

You focused, your hearing tuning into the mob’s cries. They were angry, starved. "Food! Bread!" they screamed, their desperation palpable. The realization struck you almost immediately—Rhaenyra must have sealed off the city. No traders, no merchants, no supplies flowing in. It was a power play, of course. She sought to starve out the opposition within her rightful walls, but it was the smallfolk who suffered most. Typical.

But it was what you saw next that made even your blood freeze.

Through the throngs of people, a procession of white cloaks—Kingsguard—marched proudly through the streets, their armor gleaming in the dimming light of dusk. In their hands, they bore a horrifying trophy: the severed head of a red dragon. Melys, you thought, the Red Queen, her crimson scales dulling in death.

The thought of Daemon’s dragon, Caraxes, crossed your mind briefly, but you dismissed it just as quickly. Daemon was not so easily felled. He was a force of chaos, relentless and unyielding. But Rhaenys... She had fought valiantly for her kin. It had to be her. Aegon had slain her and had the audacity to parade her dragon’s head as if it were some twisted victory.

The crowd grew louder, their protests turning to angry shouts as they watched the grotesque display. You could feel the fear rising among them, but it was overshadowed by the hunger—both for food and for rebellion. The city was on the brink, and Aegon was playing with fire.

Jaehaerys stirred slightly in your arms, oblivious to the grim spectacle unfolding before you. He was innocent in all this, yet he would soon be thrust into the heart of this brutal war. With a final glance at the dragon’s severed head, you urged your horse forward, pulling the hood of Jaehaerys’ cloak lower to shield his Targaryen features. The mob surged around you, but you moved through it like a shadow, unseen and unstoppable.

As you slipped through the shadowed alleys and hidden paths of King’s Landing, the weight of Jaehaerys in your arms was a reminder of just how fragile human life could be. The streets were filled with chaos, but to you, it was nothing. In six hundred years, you had perfected the art of moving unseen, a phantom in the night.

It wasn’t hard to imagine how those men, Daemon had sent, had managed to infiltrate these halls. It was almost laughably easy for you to slip past the guards. They were easily distracted, and you had no trouble avoiding detection.

Your thoughts kept drifting to Aemond, his sharp, striking features, the single violet eye that gleamed with intelligence and ruthlessness. You yearned for him in a way that surprised even you. In all your centuries of existence, through the rise and fall of empires, you had never felt this way about anyone. Aemond had a way of stirring something deep within you—a hunger, not for blood, but for him.

It was strange to admit, even to yourself, but you loved him. In your immortal life, you had seen love twisted and turned into something vile, something manipulative and fleeting. But with Aemond, it was different. His ambition, his fire, even his darkness—those were things you understood, things you were drawn to.

Still, love would have to wait. For now, your priority was Jaehaerys, the boy asleep in your arms, his silver hair tucked away beneath the hood you had wrapped around him. You glided through the hidden corridors of the Red Keep with ease, your steps silent, your presence undetected.

Helaena’s chambers were quiet when you arrived, the door slightly ajar as if awaiting your return. You pushed it open gently, stepping inside to the dimly lit room. Helaena was sitting by the window, her eyes distant and unfocused, lost in her thoughts.

You frowned noticing the dark circles beneath her eyes as the frown that tugged on her lips. “Helaena,” you whispered softly, moving toward her.

Her gaze shifted slowly, her violet eyes blinking as if pulling her from a dream. When she saw Jaehaerys in your arms, her expression changed—a flicker of recognition, of hope. Her lips parted, a gasp escaping her as she stood from her chair.

Helaena breathed out your name softly, her voice fragile, as if uttering it too loudly might cause you to vanish. She rose from her chair, her steps tentative, as if unsure whether you were real or some apparition conjured by her grief. Her eyes glistened with tears, her hands trembling as she reached for you.

You gently placed Jaehaerys in her arms, watching as she clung to him with a desperation that broke your heart. Her tears flowed freely as she kissed his sleeping face, her maternal love rekindled in the boy’s presence. For a moment, the weight of the world lifted from her, her sorrow held at bay by the soft rise and fall of her son’s breathing.

"I knew you weren't dead," she whispered, her voice hoarse but filled with conviction.

A frown creased your brow, confusion settling over you like a fog. "Why would you think that, Helaena?" you asked softly, your concern growing as you saw the pain etched into her delicate features.

Helaena’s gaze dropped to Jaehaerys as she gently rocked him in her arms, her sorrow palpable in the silence that followed. "Three dead Kingsguard, your carriage burnt to ash... what were we to think?" Her voice cracked as she spoke, the words heavy with the weight of grief she had been carrying.

The shock hit you like a dagger to the chest. Your eyes widened in disbelief. "My carriage... burnt?" The last time you had seen it, it had been intact. And worse, Aemond—he must have thought you perished in the flames.

You could feel the fear rising in you, not for yourself, but for him. What had Aemond been thinking all this time? The very thought of him mourning you sent a pang of sadness through your heart.

You swallowed the rising tide of emotion, forcing a smile to reassure Helaena, though it felt strained and unnatural. Your hand rested gently atop hers, offering comfort the way you always had, with a tender touch and a steady heart. "I am fine, my Queen," you said, your voice soft but firm, hoping your words could ease some of the burden that weighed on her. "Jaehaerys is fine. We are both safe, and that is all that matters now."

Helaena looked up at you, her eyes swimming with unshed tears, and for a moment, she seemed to believe you. But you could see the remnants of her anguish still clinging to her, a shadow she could not shake.

Seeing Helaena in such a state—it wounded you, though you could never let it show. You had centuries of practice hiding your own grief, your own longing. But now, with Aemond believing you dead, you felt the familiar weight of sorrow creeping back in.

You had to find him. He needed to know you were alive.

"I have to find Aemond," you murmured, the urgency in your voice betraying the calm you had tried to maintain.

Helaena’s eyes snapped to you, her sorrow deepening as she spoke softly, "He’s changed."

Your brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Helaena hesitated for a moment, as if weighing her words. "The battle at Rook’s Rest," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "He brought down both Rhaenys and Aegon."

You flinched, a ripple of shock running through you. "He killed Aegon?" Your voice trembled slightly as you spoke. Despite Aegon’s many flaws, despite his cruelty, he was still Aemond's brother. How could Aemond have done such a thing?

Helaena shook her head, her expression mournful, weighed down by grief. "No. He didn’t kill him, but he might as well have. Aegon is burnt beyond recognition... A shadow of himself now."

The words hung heavy in the air, and you struggled to grasp them. "Why?" you whispered, more to yourself than to Helaena. How could Aemond, the man you loved, have let things go so far?

Helaena’s gaze softened, and she pressed another kiss to Jaehaerys' forehead, her voice filled with a melancholy acceptance. "Aegon’s taunts… his cruel words… Perhaps he had enough of being belittled, of being treated as lesser, when in truth, he has always been the stronger of the two."

You could see the weariness in Helaena’s eyes, the understanding of how deep the rift had grown between her brothers. But what you couldn’t understand was how much Aemond had changed in just a week. The man you knew, the one you loved, was fierce and proud, yes, but he had always been measured, calculating. To hear that he had snapped so violently, even against his own kin—it worried you.

But you had to see him. You couldn’t wait any longer.

Without another word, you turned toward the door, your mind already racing with thoughts of Aemond—of the man he had been, and the man he might be now.

Aemond was riding a dangerous high, the taste of victory bitter on his tongue. He had dealt with Aegon—though not as thoroughly as he would have preferred. Aegon still lived, if one could call it living. Burnt beyond recognition, a husk of his former self, barely clinging to life. But it didn’t matter. Aegon was no longer a threat to him, and now, Aemond stood as Prince Regent. His mother’s protests were of no consequence to him anymore. She had forsaken him, after all. Turned her back on him, chosen Aegon despite everything. Well, now he would forsake her.

He clenched his fists tightly as he forced his thoughts away from her disappointment, her judgment. It wasn’t Alicent's rebuke that tormented him now. No, when he allowed his mind to drift, when the battlefield fell quiet and the bloodlust faded, his thoughts always, always came back to you.

And that was a pain he could not bear. The sharp sting in his chest that came whenever he remembered your face, your voice, the way your eyes looked at him with a softness no one else could offer. That softness had been his anchor in a world of chaos, and now it was gone. You were gone. Aemond clenched his jaw, forcing the memories back down, but they refused to be silenced.

You haunted him.

So he clung to the one thing that had never failed him: anger. The rage burned hotter and clearer than any sorrow ever could. Vengeance had always been his closest companion, and now it was the only thing he had left to keep him standing. It was easier to drown in that fire, to let the heat scorch away the grief, than to face the aching emptiness your death had left behind.

Because to truly feel the weight of his heartache—to allow himself to grieve—would be a descent into madness. It would be a slow, deliberate suicide. And Aemond Targaryen would not be destroyed by sorrow. He had survived too much for that.

His face was a mask of cold determination, but inside, the wound you left was bleeding still. Anger was a salve, not a cure, but it was the only thing keeping him alive.

As long as he was angry, he couldn’t be sad. And as long as he avoided sadness, he wouldn’t have to confront the truth: that without you, something in him had already died.

Aemond made his way to his chambers, eager to escape the oppressive weight of the castle and the relentless thoughts swirling in his mind. His steps were heavy, and though he had embraced the cold edge of his anger, exhaustion tugged at the edges of his resolve. He needed a moment, just a fleeting break from the burdens of regency and family strife.

But as he pushed open the door, his breath caught in his throat. Standing in the center of his room, with their back turned, was a figure he knew too well. His entire body froze, heart pounding so violently it hurt. His mind, sharp and disciplined, rebelled against the sight before him. It couldn't be real. It shouldn't be real.

Aemond's throat tightened, and he rubbed his eye, the patch over the other itching against his skin as if willing this cruel vision away. His breaths became shallow, harsh gasps escaping him as the figure turned.

And there you were.

The eyes he had dreamt of, that he had mourned for, were looking back at him, alive with warmth and familiarity. "Aemond," you murmured softly, your voice like a balm to his tormented soul.

He stumbled back, his chest heaving with the effort to contain the surge of emotion ripping through him. You moved toward him, your hands reaching out as if to soothe, but he flinched. The pain in your eyes mirrored his own, though he couldn't understand why. He had believed you dead, and now you stood before him. But his mind, ever cautious, doubted the reality before him.

"You're not real," he choked out, the words leaving his lips like a prayer, desperate and broken.

You faltered for a moment, your face contorting with an expression of pain. But it wasn’t for you—it was for him. "I am real, Aemond," you said firmly, your voice unwavering even as his trembled. Then, softer, you added, "As real as the sun and stars, my love."

Tentatively, he reached out, his hand shaking as he brushed your cheek. The soft warmth of your skin against his palm sent a shock through him. His lone eye stung with tears as he leaned closer, feeling the truth of your presence in the softness of your flesh. And when you leaned into his touch, his entire world seemed to shift.

The sob broke from his chest, raw and aching, as he pulled you into his arms with a fierce desperation. He crushed you against his chest, his face buried in your hair, inhaling the scent he had feared he would never experience again. It was real. You were real. His hands trembled as they tightened around you, holding you as if you might slip away once more.

"You're real," he whispered, the words tumbling from his lips in a reverent chant, as if saying it enough times would make it an undeniable truth. "You're alive."

Tears streamed freely down his face as he clung to you, the walls he had built around his heart crumbling in your presence. You had returned to him, and in this moment, the weight of the world, the rage, the grief—it all faded away in the warmth of your embrace. He whispered your name like a prayer, his chest shaking with the sobs he could no longer control.

The two of you had eventually found your way onto Aemond's bed, his arms wrapped tightly around you, as if afraid you might vanish if he loosened his grip. The moonlight spilled softly through the window, casting a gentle glow over the room, but all that mattered in this moment was the warmth of his body beneath yours. You lay on top of him, your noses touching, your breaths mingling in the quiet stillness of the night.

And yet, he only stared at you, his eye searching your face as if trying to memorize every inch, every detail. It felt like an eternity before he finally spoke.

"I don’t understand how," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, the confusion and longing in his eye clear as he tried to reconcile your presence with the grief he had been drowning in.

You lifted your head slightly, his gaze following your every movement. Gently, you brought a finger to trail down his scar, your touch soft and comforting. His eye fluttered shut at the sensation, as if the weight of the world lifted momentarily under your fingertips.

"Helaena told me what was believed," you began, your voice steady as you prepared to weave the lie once more. "But the truth is, our carriage was ambushed. The Kingsguard were killed." You paused, then continued with conviction, "I escaped with Jaehaerys. My intent was to return."

His eye opened slowly, a flicker of something vulnerable passing through his gaze as he asked in a voice that was unusually soft, "Why did it take so long?"

"The prince fell ill on the journey. My only priority was his health, not how quickly we could return," you explained, your lips pressing together in a thin line. "I'm sorry it took so long," you added, guilt weighing your words, though the truth of your ordeal remained hidden beneath layers of carefully constructed deception.

Aemond's expression softened as you rested your head back against him, in the crook of his neck where you could hear his heartbeat, steady and strong. "You're here now," he whispered, his voice filled with relief. It seemed as if that was all that mattered to him in this moment.

The silence between you lingered, a peaceful reprieve from the chaos that awaited outside these walls. But after a while, he spoke again, his voice barely breaking the quiet. "I'm Prince Regent now."

You already knew, of course. Helaena had told you, but you wanted to hear it from him. "Helaena told me what happened to Aegon," you said slowly, choosing your words carefully. You had to know the truth, not from Helaena’s recounting but from Aemond himself. You needed to understand what had happened, why he had done what he did.

There was a pause, a silence that stretched on too long before he finally spoke. "He was not supposed to be there. At Rook’s Rest," he said, his voice low and distant, as if recounting a memory he wanted to forget.

Your hand rested on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding you. "What happened, Aemond?" you asked, your tone soft but insistent, though part of you dreaded hearing the answer.

Aemond’s face hardened, his eye staring up at the ceiling, his jaw clenched. "Aegon got what he deserved," he said flatly, his tone almost indifferent. "He was unfit to rule. Unworthy to sit the throne."

His words hit you like a stone sinking into a well, and though you had expected them, it still hurt. Aegon was not a good man. He was cruel, selfish, and unfit to lead, but knowing that Aemond had taken such drastic action—it was a bitter pill to swallow. The world was better without Aegon’s reign, and yet the weight of Aemond’s decision loomed over you.

You studied his face, searching for any hint of remorse, of conflict. "Was it worth it?" you asked quietly, though you weren’t sure you wanted the answer.

Aemond didn’t respond. He simply stared at the ceiling, his silence speaking louder than any words could. And you didn’t push him. You knew Aemond better than anyone; his guilt, his anger, and his desire for power all warred within him.

So you lay there, your hand on his chest, letting the silence stretch on, knowing that in time, perhaps, the answers would come. But for now, you were content to simply be there with him.

@esposadomd @sara-grimes-yess @littybeech @gyneve @https-kokomi @yariany02 @baby-w3-ar3-infinite @baby-i-can-see-your-reylo @niktwazny303 @missyviolet123 @caribbeangal @ggukiespace @levimaids @lokisgoddesofpower @anakilusmos @spacexdrago @strawberymilktea @snowtargaryen @fiction-fanfic-reader

Names that are in bold are ones that couldn't be added :(

@feelingfaye @sxlsvv @crystal-siren @no-one0804 @tojisprincess @meraxesruin @supernaturalstilinski @emerald-error20 @athanasia-day @mynameisbaby9 @moonstruksandco @mysticalfridge @pugalore @inkandarsenic @ninihrtss @kaitieskidmore97 @boywivlove @motheroffae @cluelessteam @whiteoakoak

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[the-ancient-dragons]

Observe the final Overcomplicated Pyrrhian tribe, the NightWings!!

As always, Joy and Tui already did an amazing job, I'm just adding my own flair.

Details and explanation below.

Next week I have something special... See you then!

More overcomplicated dragons.

The NightWing took me forever. First with school, and then because I picked the most annoying references. It was perfect, at least I thought it was, until I had to draw scales over the entire thing. THE ENTIRE THING. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

First, I modelled the main anatomy after the komodo dragon. A really uninspired choice but I saw how Morrowseer tracked that albatross in book 4 and said hold my 2 mL of beer. I recently did a few alterations because I felt I was following the komodo anatomy too much. I think I've got a nice balance now, but I might change it later when I do the full body.

Next is the elephant in the room, that fact that there are way too many small scales, especially over the areas that look like large scales. That comes from the caiman lizard. In the references I had their body scales had folded in the EXACT pattern of NightWing scales. As soon as I saw it I knew I needed to use them. You can also find their influences around the mouth with those large "lips" and the silver scales along the neck.

Lastly I used european starlings for the glossy scales. Not every NightWing would have blue and green and purple on them, but it would be a possibility, and I wanted it on this one to show that. Depending on the angle you look at them you would see a different colour. Some starlings also have lots of white spots on their underbelly, which I thought would look perfect for the underbelly of a NightWing. Again, not every dragon would have this, but it would make sense. If the underside of their wings are star-spangled then their necks, stomachs, and tails might as well be, no?

I really had a lot of fun with this. I mentioned something special next week and I think it's something you'll really like (if you liked this series so much). No spoilers though! Until next time >:)

[leighsartworks216]

Dragon's Treasure

dragon!Sylus x blind!oracle!Reader

Series Masterlist - Chapter One - Prev Chapter - Next Chapter

I have been SO SO SO excited for this chapter. I've had it written for so long and I've just been so excited to see y'all's reactions to it

Warnings: choking, fear, crying, blood, swearing, near death experience

Word Count: 1,697

Main Masterlist

AO3

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Jewel provided what few soft things he had to be added to your “hoard”. It didn’t amount to much, but a couple pillows already made for a massive improvement compared to the hard stone.

Dissatisfied with how small your hoard is, he said he would go find you more. “Feel free to explore,” he’d said. “If you find something you like, it’s yours.”

So with him gone and you with nothing to do, you decide to take him up on his offer.

You feel around from one pile to the next, trying to make sense of his organization system. It’s rather chaotic. The piles melt and blend into each other, with no proper barriers separating one from the next. Coins seem to wind their way through every stack. You almost feel bad for how clumsy you must be, bumbling about, displacing the treasure, but surely he already thought about that. If he hadn’t… well, that’s on him.

You pause with interest as your hands come across something delicate. Fine chains linked together with small dangling teardrops. The teardrops feel different from the metal of the chain. Smoother, somehow softer. From the rest of your time exploring, you figure they must be some sort of gem. You wonder what kind they are.

Beside it is another delicate treasure, and another and another. It seems you found the jewelry. You feel along the chain of the first. It doesn’t seem wide enough to slip on over your head, but- aha! A clasp! You carefully unhook the ends from one another and wrap it around your neck. It takes a few tries, and your arms ache from holding them up so long, but you finally manage to get it on. The teardrop gems rest on your collarbones and chest, tickling your skin with the strange sensation. You’d never worn anything like it before, but it’s so lightweight it doesn’t bother you at all. You run your fingers along it, trying to picture what it looks like. You wonder what Jewel would think of it.

Spurred on by sheer delight, you dig back into the pile. You find more necklaces, bracelets, rings - even things you don’t know the purpose of. You slip some of them on, giggling to yourself at the way they twirl and dance on your skin with your movements.

Suddenly, you feel something more solid. It’s got more surface area than the necklaces and bracelets you’ve found so far, and it’s much larger than any of the rings, though it’s shaped like one. The top edge has protrusions stemming from it. The inside is plain, with little variation, but the outside is set with gems galore.

You place it experimentally on your head. It’s not as light as the necklace, but it’s not heavy enough to weigh you down too much. It feels… powerful.

You’re about to move on to the next pile when you hear footsteps. But they’re different - they scrape along the floor, move too uncertainly, too quickly. This isn’t Jewel.

What are you supposed to do in a situation like this? Logically, you should be running to meet them, begging them to get you out of here. But you don’t. Besides, even if they did get you out, where would they take you? You can’t go back to the city. You don’t want to go back to the city.

Torn with indecision, you’ve only just stepped away from the pile of treasure when the footsteps echo around the cavern.

“Wha- Are you the dragon?” The voice is masculine, but lighter than Jewel’s. Despite that, it doesn’t sound too young.

You shake your head. Your heart is racing. “No, I’m not. I’m-”

The man gasps. “The oracle!”

Fuck, this guy must be from the city if he can recognize you so easily.

“Wearing… the dragon’s treasure.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

You hold your hands out placatingly. “Sir, please, allow me a chance to explain.”

“Explain?! You- You fucking traitor! No wonder you predicted doomsday, you’re working with the fucking dragon to bring it about!” His footsteps stomp roughly on the stone floor, approaching you quickly. Each thud sends a pang of fear straight to your heart. He kicks away treasure in his path, goblets and coins that clink against each other and thunk against the ground. You back away as fast as you can.

“I’m not a traitor! Astra predicted it!” You stumble on something. You don’t try to guess what, you just keep going. You can hear the man’s angry breaths, huffing out of him like a bellows. He’s much closer now. “Please, I didn’t do anything! I’m just a messenger!”

Large hands grab you by the shoulders and shove you to the ground. The air is forced from your lungs as your back collides with solid rock. Your head spins as it hits next, less than a second after. The crown on your head clinks as it bounces off, rolling away before it tips and rolls on its edge, over and over again in a rapidly increasing crescendo. Legs cage you in. Hands grip you hard enough to bruise. They jostle and shove you against the floor.

“You want us to die! You fucking monster! You- You want to kill us all!”

You gasp for air. Your lungs fight against it. You try shoving at the man’s chest. Try squirming and kicking him off. Try clawing at his hands to let you go. “I don’t-”

The echo of a smack reverberates in the large hall. Your head is tossed to the side with the impact. Pain ripples through your jaw. You think you bit your tongue for all the blood pooling in your mouth. “Shut up!”

You think you’re crying. You can’t tell. All you do know is the all-consuming fear rising in your chest, burning you from the inside out, choking you. You want to scream, but who would hear you? All you can do is try fighting back again, but your hits are sloppy and too weak to get the brute off of you. And all it earns you is another punch.

“Where’s your partner in crime, huh?!” he screams in your face. Spit splatters over your cheeks. You recoil in disgust. “Where’s the dragon, huh?!”

“He’s not here!” you scream. The words grate at your throat. You don’t think to worry about how awful it sounds, as the hands lift from your shoulders to grab your neck. They squeeze tightly. You thrash even more as you take one last gasp of air, cut off as your windpipe closes.

He jostles you, shakes you, digs his nails into your skin. You try shoving at his face, but he just shakes you off each time. “We trusted you! All of us! You were supposed to keep us safe! Tell us how to prosper! And all you did was predict death and ruin! Well, no longer! I won’t let you speak your cursed prophecies into existence anymore!”

You can’t breathe. You can’t fucking breathe. Your mouth gapes open like a fish, but you can’t- Nothing is coming in. You can’t get anything out either. No cries, no pleas, no last prayers to Astra.

Your lungs ache. They scream. They burn in your chest alongside your fear.

Tears pour from your eyes with no resistance. Stream down your cheeks to the ground below. Drip onto loose coins. Gather on the man’s fingers as his thumbs dig into your pulse.

Your heart rampages against your ribcage. Pounds in your ears. Each beat sends a jolt of pain through your lungs as it begs for them to provide it oxygen.

Your head is fuzzy. Mind spinning. Sense becomes distant, blurring at the edges. Thinking becomes impossible. Only two words repeat themselves over and over as consciousness begins to falter:

Jewel…

Help…

Your hands fall limply to the ground. You can’t fight anymore. You can’t… can’t………

…

………

You see… a man. He’s dressed unusually. You can’t make out the surroundings, but you feel how warm and safe this place is. He looks like the fiend in your last prophecy. His hair is stark white. Eyes a bloody crimson. But he looks human.

Could it be…?

Air shocks back into your lungs. It hurts. You gasp desperately for oxygen, but you can’t get it inside of you quick enough. Can’t get enough in your lungs to satisfy your body’s needs. You choke on copper and spit. Something touches your shoulder, rolls you onto your side.

“Easy,” a familiar baritone soothes. You can make out the sharp ridges of a clawed hand holding your bicep. “You’re alright now.”

Splatters of blood and spit hit the floor as you cough. Your whole body shakes with the effort of breathing. Even once you manage to breathe normally once more, your throat hurts like hell and your head still spins.

“He-” You wince sharply. That one word alone was akin to scraping burning coals over the back of your throat, all the way down your esophagus and into your chest.

“Don’t speak,” Jewel says. Though, with the danger tinging his words, it sounds more like a command. “He’s dead. He won’t hurt you again.”

You reach out toward his voice. He helps you sit up. The world feels as though it’s tilting in an odd pattern on an ever-shifting axis. You grab onto him. You feel like your whole body is spinning, prone to falling into an abyss at any moment.

Jewel doesn’t complain, doesn’t pull back. Instead, he wraps a rough arm around your back to pull you against his chest. He’s firm and solid and here. His chest moves with steady breaths. Heart beats a rhythm like a war drum. It’s all you can focus on as your lungs relax, heart stablizes. All you care to think about as the pain in your neck persists, the ghosting weight of hands still threatening to press down and tighten once more.

Blood dribbles down your chin. Even more down your neck to your collarbones where the man’s nails dug in. It tickles. It stains the gold and gems you wear.

“That fool should know better than to touch a dragon’s treasure.”

---

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[ashwhowrites]

Dungeons and Revenge

Plot- Eddie finds out the new guy in Hellfire is dating his ex girlfriend

Eddie watched intensely as he rolled his dice, along with Hellfire. The dice dinged against the table, all the boys standing up from their seats as they waited for it to land.

"THAT'S A HIT!" Eddie declared

The boys cheered as they defeated the dragon, ending the campaign for the night.

"HELL YES!" Mike cheered, high-fiving Dustin.

"Good game, boys. Until next time." Eddie said. The boys began packing up, and Eddie walked over to his newest member, Justin.

"J-man, amazing play," Eddie said, patting him on the shoulder. Justin smiled and stood up.

"Thanks, Eddie. Great campaign. It was sick to see all the dragons break apart and force us to save ourselves yet help each other."

Justin had been a member for a little over a month and Eddie hated to admit he was damn good. Not as good as Eddie though, no one ever was.

Eddie was always skeptical of letting new people join, but Justin earned his place and Eddie was starting to like him. He was a senior, a bit taller and more muscular than Eddie. Much shorter hair but just as dark, and a lighter shade of brown eyes.

The group all walked out into the parking lot, still talking about the amazing ending of the night. The conversation faded into the background when Eddie spotted a similar car in the parking lot.

"I was positive I was going to die once the monster spotted me," Dustin said, Mike added on but Eddie was still lost in staring at the parked car. He knew that car, it was hers. Y/N, his ex-girlfriend, is the girl he was still helplessly in love with.

Their relationship ended over five months ago and he still thought about her. He thought about their stupid fight, her wet eyes, and the loud bang as she slammed the door. He has barely seen her since, she did everything to avoid him. He looked for her everywhere, wanting to beg on his knees for another chance.

"Yo, Eddie you good?" Justin asked, taking Eddie out of his thoughts.

Eddie coughed and tore his eyes away, looking at the group of boys who stopped talking and were looking at him.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good. Who needs a ride?" Eddie asked, his eyes already looking back at her car.

"Not me, my girlfriend is picking me up," Justin said with a smile. That love-sick puppy looks in his eyes. A look Eddie was familiar with, the one he always had for Y/N.

"Dude! Do you have a girlfriend? Is she hot?" Gareth asked

"We are fairly new, been seeing her for about two weeks. Made it official last night." Justin said with a smile. "And she's the prettiest girl I've ever laid my eyes on."

"What's her name?" Dustin called after him, Justin already walking into the parking lot.

"Y/N," Justin called back.

Eddie felt his blood run cold, and air stopped entering his lungs. He felt like he was suffocating. All the boys knew Y/N was a touchy subject, and they feared for Eddie's reaction.

They all watched as he walked to the familiar car. A car Eddie spent many times in, so many memories flashed through his head; their first kiss through her window, their first time having sex in the backseat, and where he admitted he loved her.

Eddie tried to fight back tears and failed. A few tears ran down his face as Justin was in the passenger seat. Eddie was thankful he couldn't see her because that would have hurt more. He watched as they drove off, no one knowing what to say.

~

Eddie slammed the trailer door behind him as he raced to his room, storming past a worried Wayne as he locked his bedroom door. He threw his bag on the ground and collapsed on his bed. He screamed into his pillow, and then the screams turned into sobs.

He ignored as Wayne knocked on his door. He couldn't believe she moved on already. He wanted her to be in the same boat as him, he wanted to be the only boy on her mind. But the cold truth showed him he was nowhere in her mind.

He wanted to call, his fingers ghosting over the phone. But then he got a better idea, make her come to him. He wiped his face with his shirt and then grabbed his backpack. He tore it open and grabbed his dnd notebook.

~~~

Eddie was a wreck but tried his best to not show it. He hated that now whenever he saw Justin it hurt, and made him think about her. But he had a plan to get his revenge, to release his anger towards Justin for going after what was his.

The boys were nervous about playing now that they knew Justin was dating Eddie's ex-girlfriend. No one told Justin and he was oblivious to the target on his back. Dustin gulped when he saw the smirk and glint in Eddie's eyes.

~

"Yikes, Justin. Looks like you got hit by Lich again!" Eddie crackled, loving the way the boy groaned.

"Let me get in the room and see if I can help," Mike said.

Justin sighed in relief, hoping the rest of the group could join him as they took turns. But his hope was lost when Lich seemed to only target him. Justin thought hard about what he should do, he raised his shield and began to battle.

The boys watched as Eddie and Justin were going head to head. Justin rolled and was successful, able to use his shield as he struck at Lich.

"Remind me your AC?" Eddie asked, a happy smile on his face as he shook the dice.

"I feel like you would remember since this is the 5th hit in 2 rounds... but it's a 17." Justin sighed, starting to get annoyed that Eddie seemed to only target his player during the whole session.

Eddie nodded, enjoying the way he got Justin riled up. He was acting out of jealousy but so what. Justin is winning in life so Eddie might as well win in the game. Eddie rolled his dice onto the table, standing up to see over his books.

"Good! I rolled an 18." He wasn't afraid to show how smug he was, sitting back down with a cocky smirk.

~

The boys were less excited as they walked out of the session, almost no one spoke. Justin was slightly fuming at Eddie but he'd never challenge the master. But that's what Eddie wanted, he wanted Justin to get in his face. Just anything to give Eddie a reason to sucker punch him right in the nose.

Eddie stayed back, knowing he couldn't stand to see Justin going to her again.

Justin sighed as he got in the car, leaning over to softly peck Y/N's lips.

"How did it go?" Y/N asked, peeling out of the parking lot.

"Ass. I could barely fight back, Eddie kept hitting me from left and right. It almost felt like he was personally attacking me." Justin ranted. He had no idea what he did to piss him off.

Y/N rolled her eyes at Eddie's actions, and a bit of anxiety settled in her stomach as she knew why.

"I don't know what I did to him," Justin added

Y/N offered a small smile and moved her hand to softly rub his thigh as she kept her eyes on the road.

"Eddie used to be a good friend of mine, let me talk to him."

~

Eddie was watching the TV, with the volume on low to not disturb Wayne, when there were a few knocks on the door.

He groaned as he stood up, walking towards the door. He slightly cracked it, and his heart sped up when he saw her.

"Y/N?"

"We need to talk," she said, her arms crossed. Eddie opened the door and she walked past him. He closed the door and followed into his bedroom.

She sat on his bed as he walked in. He wanted to take a mental image of how she looked on his bed again. He walked towards her, softly reaching out to cup her face.

She pushed his hand away, and he gulped. He could already feel himself getting emotional as he continued to look at her.

"It's been so long," he said quietly, "I've missed seeing you."

She shook her head and stood up. Walking to the other side of the room to create more space.

"Why are you being a dick to Justin? He loved being part of Hellfire! And he was really upset tonight."

Eddie rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"He's whining about a game? Oh, come on, baby. It's a fucking game!" Eddie argued

"No, he's upset that you put a target on him and he has no idea why. But me? I've got a good idea why you are acting like a jackass," she fought back. Her eyes were hard but Eddie just loved having her eyes on him again.

"Why's that, sweetheart?" She wanted to smack the smirk off his face. She hated herself for how attracted she still was to him.

Ignoring the way the nicknames made her body heat up, she replied, "You found out about us and you got jealous. Which I'd like to remind you that you have no right to be jealous."

"No right?" Eddie laughed as he scoffed. "I'm fucking in love with you. Still, head over my feet for you, and you're dating some other guy!" His voice started to rise but he wasn't yelling.

"You broke up with me! Did you forget that? Did you remember that when you decided to have your pity party and take it out on a guy who seems to actually like me?" Y/N argued, she wasn't surprised by his behavior but she was surprised she'd still be dealing with it.

"I didn't BREAK UP WITH YOU!" He argued, his voice rising and rising.

"WELL YOU NEVER WENT AFTER ME!" She yelled back, throughout all the fighting they didn't notice how close they became. Their bodies were inches away, chest to chest.

"YOU TOLD ME NOT TO! I DIDN'T WANT TO KEEP SCREWING UP"

"YOU'RE ALWAYS SUPPOSED TO GO AFTER ME. BEG ME AND TELL ME YOU CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT ME!" her voice cracked as her yelling turned into soft sobs, "but yo-ou let me leave, I waited in my car and you never came" she whimpered.

Eddie gulped as he watched the tears fall down her face. He stepped forward, closing any space they had between them. His hands cupped her wet cheeks and he bent slightly down so his eyes were level with hers.

"I wanted to follow you so badly. I wanted to walk up to you anytime I got just a second of you. I've failed many times at not listening to you and I thought I was doing what you wanted. Baby, if I knew all I had to do was run after you I would have run in a heartbeat." He said

She sniffled and tried not to melt into his hands. His touch on her skin and his body inches from hers, it's all she craved those long five months.

"You had five months, Eddie. Why now? Why now when I just started to move on?"

"I'm selfish and can't watch another person make you happy. Not when I know I can. If you want to move on, I can't stop you. But if I can offer exactly what he can, I will do it a thousand times better." He said, and before she could blink his lips pressed against hers.

She melted as his warm lips moved against hers. The similarity of the kiss made her heart flutter. She tried to fight it, her hands on his chest to push. But then his hands moved down to her waist and he pulled away, but just barely.

A broken whisper or whimper, she couldn't tell, fell from his lips and landed on hers,

"Please"

She shoved every thought away that told her it was a bad idea. And listened to the way her heart raced like it only did with him. Her actions were fast, her hands cupping his face as she kissed him as hard as she could.

They moved in perfect synchrony, their lips fit together. They clung to each other desperately, making sure the other couldn't go too far away.

They kissed until their lungs burned, begging for air. She pulled away but kept her touch on him.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. If you give me another chance, I promise, I will always run after you. I'll pick you up kicking and screaming and bring you home." He pleaded.

This was the first time Y/N believed she ever saw Eddie break down and beg. He was always so damn stubborn, but now he cried and pleaded.

"What if you promise not to make me want to run away?" She joked, a tiny laugh leaving her lips. Eddie softly chuckled, sniffling.

"Anything you want and need," he said, softly kissing her lips again.

"What the hell do I tell Justin?" She asked

"I'll write it into the camping," Eddie joked, loving when she swatted at his chest.

Forgiveness is a long road and he was ready to walk it all.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[asumofwords]

Watercress - Chapter 3

Warnings: She/her pronouns. Slow burn, mentions of injury, threats, sickness. Tags will be added as the fic goes along.

Pairings: Aemond x Healer

Summary: Raised in the Riverlands, near the shadow of Harrenhal, her life was one of endless toil and quiet resilience. Every day was the same—scraping together food, tending to the ill, and surviving the harsh realities of a land marked by struggle. But when war came, it brought horrors beyond anything she could have imagined. The skies blazed with fury, the waters of the Gods Eye churned with the echoes of battle, and then—just as suddenly as it began—the world grew eerily quiet. She believed the worst was over. That was, until a fateful discovery in the woods shattered her fragile peace and set her on a path she never could have foreseen.

Notes: Hello angels! I hope you enjoyed chapter 2 and now enjoy this. I've been writing these on my commutes to work which has been super fun. I'm going to try and get a chapter out every week if i can! Enjoy <3

For days, Aemond floated in and out of consciousness. Each time his eye flickered open, only to roll shut again, the healer took it as a sign that he would survive. She had seen men fade into death before. How their bodies went still, how their breathing grew shallow and thin until it simply stopped.

But Aemond was not one of those men. He lingered, clung to life like a beast caught in a trap, refusing to die despite the ruin of his body.

At first, he barely stirred. She forced water between his cracked lips, tipping it carefully so he would not choke. She fed him broth, the rich scent of marrow and herbs filling the cottage as she coaxed him to swallow. At one point, she had feared he would slip into a sleep he would never wake from, lost to his wounds and the fever that burned at his skin. But as the days passed, his fingers twitched. His lashes fluttered.

And then finally his eye opened.

Outside, the air had turned sharp and biting, winter creeping closer with every shortened day. The fire in her hearth struggled against the chill that bled up from the earth, and the furs wrapped around her shoulders did little to keep it out.

Soon, the snow would come.

And snow meant death for those who could not prepare for it.

Food was already scarce. Crops had withered in the wake of war, and what little remained was taken by the desperate or the cruel. She had coin, but even coin could not conjure wheat from barren fields or meat from hollowed-out forests. She often thought of selling the long sword she had taken from him, knowing it would fetch more than enough to keep her through the winter. For many winters to come. But carrying a sword like that, his sword, was as dangerous as wielding a traitor’s banner.

Lords and commoners alike who had supported the Green cause had been rounded up and slaughtered. If she was caught with the weapon of a kinslayer, she would be met with the same fate.

And yet… she had kept him alive.

She did not know why. She only knew that she had to.

Would he repay her kindness with a blade to her throat once he could stand again?

Would he lead men to her door, reveal that a woman in the woods had nursed the enemy back to health?

Would he seek vengeance?

She did not want to think about it.

Unease seemed to follow her however, ever since she found the young Prince. It was if the air itself had shifted when Rhaenyra had been slain.

When the war had ended.

It could be, she reasoned with herself, the unsettling feeling after a war. The sudden silence and stillness that clung to people after such uproar. It could also be that the dragons that once flew in great numbers above had greatly dwindled after the war, their shadows and roars missing from the sky. The thought left something heavy in her chest.

It did not bode well when the symbols of gods died.

A low groan pulled her from her thoughts.

She did not rush to his side. She had learned in the first few days that his body remembered the war even if his mind did not. He twitched in his sleep, breath hitching, murmuring half-formed words to ghosts that did not answer. But she knew this sound, this was different.

He was waking.

She dampened a cloth and pressed it to his forehead, watching as his eye fluttered open, violet, sharp despite the dazed, fevered haze clinging to him.

For a moment, he simply stared at her.

Then, suddenly, he tried to sit up.

A harsh cry of pain tore from his lips, and he collapsed back against the bed, his breath ragged, chest jerking in uneven gasps. His fingers twisted into the furs, knuckles white with strain, but his body refused to obey him. He clenched his jaw, breathing heavily through his nose, and tried again. This time, his injured leg jerked upward, and the pain hit him like a tidal wave.

A snarl ripped from his throat, his fingers curling into claws against the mattress, all those fine furs she had bought having their hairs town from their pelts. His eye was squeezed shut, his body taut with the unbearable humiliation of weakness and pain.

She looked down upon him, cloth still held aloft and hoped that this wouldn’t inspire a desperate instinct to attack her. She was certain he would likely not react well, waking up to the unfamiliar scent of her hut, his body aching, and his mind clouded.

A Prince waking in a cottage in the woods and not the chambers of the palace was certain to turn someone of his standings head. Especially since his last memory would have been the war at its peak.

If she woke up one day in a room in the Red Keep, injured and alone, she was sure she would be just as alarmed, if not more so. 

Aemond's lips were chapped, face having grown pale, and breathed a ragged breath, his violet eye flicking around the room as rapidly as his weakness would permit, searching for immediate signs of danger.

When he finally stilled, his breathing shallow but controlled, she let her gaze drift lower. His movement had shifted the furs on the bed so she now had a clear view of the wrappings on his chest. She looked over them searching for any sign of split stitches and found them.

Blood had begun to seep from beneath the rags she had replaced from the fish skin, and without even looking up she turned around to gather her supplies.

Behind her, his voice was hoarse, raw with pain and something darker.

"Where am I?"

She did not answer immediately. She was already assessing the damage, her fingers steady as they lifted the bloodied wrappings from his skin.

"Riverlands." She said flatly.

The silence stretched.

"Where?" His tone sharpened, demanding now.

She did not look at him. "Near Harrenhal."

The shift was immediate.

His breath hitched, his fingers twitched, but the worst of it was in his eye. The moment the word left her lips, his expression twisted into something dangerous. Hatred, rage, loathing, all bleeding into one as his nostrils flared, as the muscle in his jaw clenched tight enough to shatter his own teeth.

She braced herself, already anticipating the bite of his fury.

"Are you a Maester?" The question was sharp, calculated. Even now, flat on his back, broken, helpless, he was still testing her.

She did not fear the question, nor the weight of his stare. Instead, she did something unexpected, she laughed. A quiet, breathy sound that barely reached the space between them.

It was not amusement, not quite. But there was something in it; a warning, perhaps.

He hated it.

"As a follower of the Seven, you should know women cannot swear such an oath."

Slowly, deliberately, she lifted her gaze to meet his.

The hatred was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but now it was joined by something else. Something assessing.

He was measuring her.

Calculating.

She could almost see the thoughts turning behind his eye, the realisation sinking in. He was in a stranger’s home, far from his kin, with wounds he could not fight past, and a body that refused to obey him.

And worst of all; he was at her mercy.

The firelight flickered, casting long shadows across his face, making the bruises look darker, the scar across his cheekbone deeper, and him gaunter. He looked like something feral, something barely restrained by the thin thread of his own will.

She wondered, briefly, if she had saved a dying man or a dying beast.

The answer did not matter.

She would soon find out.

“Who tends to me?” His voice was distrustful, thick with uncertainty. Sharp.

Commanding.

She gave him her name and only her name.

“Who is your sworn lord?” Voice thick with impatience.

She smirked as she lifted the bandages from his chest, watching his fingers twitch, wary as if he might lurch forward and grab her.

She hummed, unfazed. “Sworn lord? I’ve sworn no oaths.”

His eye burned into her, “Who holds Harrenhal?”

She had to hold back a laugh.

Men often made demands when they were injured. Often promised vengeance for the shame of their own vulnerability. When she had first taken her mother’s place, it had made her cautious, fearful. But time had taught her something else. Empty words and empty threats were more deserving of mirth than worry.

But this man… this man was different. His reputation alone would have been enough to put her on edge. And yet, more than that, it was the feel of him. The way the air thickened around him, charged with something unspoken.

A warning.

Even still, she answered as she would any other.

“The ghosts that haunt its walls.”

Her fingers pinched his torn skin together, assessing what to do next.

He did not whimper this time.

Aemond gave her a scathing look, the scar over his eye crinkling. “The war...Has it been won?”

She hummed in amusement.

His face dissolved into fury.

He was a prince, and had clearly never spoken to in such a way, least of all by someone lowborn like herseld. But within these four walls, titles held no power.

All men bled.

All men died.

Birth and rank meant naught to the gods.

“There is no winning in a war.”

"Who?" His voice, a blade’s edge, barely restrained.

She held his gaze, unflinching, and it irked him. “The son of the dead Queen. Her blood will rule. The Gods do not favour kinslayers and usurpers.”

Violence flared in his eye, “It is treason to speak her name with victory.”

Aemond tried once again to sit up too quickly, succeeding and she sighed as she watched two new stitches burst, blood pooling to the surface. The Prince tried valiantly to ignore the pain, teeth gritted as his body betrayed him, but she could see that it made his consciousness swim.

He swayed and fell back onto on elbow, wheezing at the agonised angle, one arm coming to clutch his broken ribs. But even in the immense pain he seemed to be suffering, his stubbornness won out, and even she had to admit that he had faired better than men who had suffered less.

"You lie."

If he weren’t so pathetic in that moment, she might have humoured him like a petulant child. She didn’t dignify it with a response. Just inhaled deeply, eyes sweeping the rest of his injuries. She lingered on his leg.

Horror flickered in his violet eye.

He knew.

The loss of an eye had been something to overcome. A wound to be turned into a weapon. A show of his strength. Something to reveal to strike fear amongst his enemies.

But this…

A leg was different. A leg made a warrior. And without it, without the strength to stand, to fight, what was he?

"Answer me." His voice wavered this time.

She wished he would pass out so she could work in silence.

"The false king was slain by his own men," She said coolly, "All your kin are dead."

Silence.

His eye searched hers, desperate for deception, for any trace of a lie.

There was none.

Something in his face shifted. Darkened.

Gone.

All of them.

His mother. His brothers. His grandfather Otto.

Perhaps Criston Cole, too. The man who had been a father in all but name and blood.

But most of all;

Helaena.

Had she been slain with the rest?

His sister.

His gentle sister.

A harsh, bitter breath left him. His lips curled into something between a sneer and a grimace. Aemond was not a man who wept. His grief hardened into fury.

And she had been prepared for it.

"Then I should have died."

She lifted a brow, lazy, “Aye. If the Gods had willed it.”

The sneer returned, but his strength waned, and he collapsed back onto the bed, glaring at her.

"You willed it."

"I do as the Gods command me."

She reached for him and he recoiled.

"I am not some wounded beast for you to keep." Aemond snarled, pink blooming across his cheeks where they had once been colourless.

Amused she replied, "No. You snarl and snap like one. But a true beast still has its claws."

He swatted at her as she reached for his side, shifting away. But she was persistent, stronger than he expected, and he sank, reluctant, into compliance.

At a loss.

At a loss of who he was.

He had lost everything. The war. His kin. His title.

His purpose.

And for the first time, he felt it. The emptiness. The hollow absence where Vhagar had been.

The ache of the bond was silent. And he just knew to his bones she was gone.

The one being who understood him.

Gone.

And now, after all he had done, after Lucerys, after Sharp Point, after every drop of blood spilled in his name, his half-sister’s son sat the throne.

And when they found him?

It would be public. Very public. A trial. A spectacle.

A kinslayer’s fate.

"How long have I been here?" His voice was quieter now, loss leaking in at the edges.

She knew what he was thinking.

Could he still fight? Could he still win?

Would there be any left who would fight for him?

Unlikely.

She met his eye. “Several days. You’ve been asleep for most.”

His teeth clenched. “Days…”

Frustration sparked in his voice, and she readied herself for cruelty.

"Why did you save me?" He sneered, and she ignored his question, "I suppose you expect me to be grateful. What do you want, coin? Gold? A jewel to buy your way out of this hovel?"

There it was.

She ignored him again. Dipped a rag into boiling water, wrung it out, and reached for his wound. She met his eye briefly before pressing the cloth to his skin.

His stomach clenched beneath her hands.

"You lie." He hissed again.

"I don’t have time for lies."

"Say it again."

She flicked her eyes up to his, unimpressed, "Have you gone deaf, m’lord?" She mocked his now lack of title.

His voice was low, dangerous, “You will say it again.”

Coolly, she obliged, "You have lost. Your family is dead. The war is over. The Blacks sit the throne. And you… you are alone."

His jaw tightened as he inhaled sharply.

"And I am expected to take the word of some common healer in some nameless hut?" His eye flicked around the cottage in distaste, “Who’s to say my brother hasn’t won and you are a sympathiser to the whore Queen?”

Now she smiled, and despite the hatred he felt for her, he noted that it was a pretty smile.

"My word means nothing, Aemond."

His eye narrowed at the sound of his name on her tongue.

But she continued, for the first time speaking longer than he had expected, "I could tell you many things. Promise you more. But it wouldn’t change my station or yours."

She leaned in, voice calm.

"And if I were the sympathiser you accuse me of being," Her voice dipped almost to a whisper, almost sultrily, "I would have slit your throat where you lay."

Aemond laughed, humourless, "You think I will stay here? That I will rot in this hut?"

Her eyes flicked to his leg, then to the door, "You’re free to leave, kinslayer."

His breath caught.

He went utterly still.

"Say that again."

She raised her brows, "How many times are you going to ask me to repeat myself? I'm not a parrot from High Garden, m'lord. You don’t like the truth I speak?"

With her hands, she pinched his wound together and readied her needle, not asking if he was ready. She could feel his heated glare atop her skull.

The healer could admit that she had stitched the first stitch more roughly than she could have, knowing it would have pained him. She felt his stomach clench beneath her as she worked, the heat from his skin almost scolding her hands like the water in the basin.

Lips curling, seething, he hissed lowly in threat, "Watch your tongue, woman."

A large hand snapped out and wrapped around the wrist holding the needle and squeezed painfully.

We have finally reached the threats, she mused to herself dryly and hummed an amused laugh.

Aemond moved to sit up again and she managed to move a well placed, albeit cruel, hand against one of his broken ribs and pressed, which made the prince gasp in pain and stiffen against the bed stilling.

"If you’re going to undo my work," She said smoothly, "I should’ve left you to die as your men did."

She paused for a moment.

She knew his distrust of her would prove to be an issue with him now being conscious. He would fight her at every turn and spit vitriol her way. She no doubted that he would test her patience and she would consider dosing his food with a sleeping draught. Perhaps even some milk of the poppy.

She would have offered it to him sooner if he had not been so aggressive in his questioning. 

"You knew who I was."

Her lips twitched into a smile.

His eye narrowed, "Why?"

Why did she save him?

Why did she tend to him?

What was her motive?

The mystery surrounding her set his hair on end.

She tilted her head slightly, studying him. He was not sure he liked it, the way she looked at him. As though he was a question to be answered, a thing to be fixed. Rather than a man to be feared.

“Would you have preferred to die?"

Aemond did not answer.

He should say no.

Should say he still has vengeance to take, a name to reclaim, a war to fight. A throne to win. But the truth sat thickly in his throat.

There was nothing left.

“You want me to trust your word?” Aemond scoffed, the colour in his cheeks fading again.

With a sigh she worked his wound, stitching it back together methodically, "You may recall I never asked for your trust. I couldn’t care for your thoughts of me." Her tone cool and emotionless, "Feel free to die now if you wish, it would save me the trouble and herbs.” She tied shut the final stitch.

There was a brief moment of silence between them, only the sound of the cracking fire.

He was left to stew in his shattered pride and frustration, the knowledge that he would never be the same, and the added humiliation that he now depended upon a woman such as her. 

His voice was a blade at her throat. "I have killed men for less."

A smirk played at her lips. "And yet here I stand," She straightened, looking down at his broken body to prove her point. He could not stand, not without help.

Not without her.

"And there you lay."

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Taglist: Please ask if you would like to be added to the taglist

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[intimidating-fettuccine]

Creep Minecraft World

I've mentioned before how they have a Minecraft world they all play on, and I wanted to actually just randomly talk about it :p

At least several times a month, they all get together to play on their Minecraft world together. Sometimes a few people might be missing or absent, but they try to have as many people playing at a time as they can. Things I've already established, BEN is the one who builds cool houses for everyone (I'm adding on that they're all set up like a villager village, so they're all connected by paths and near each other like a housing development), Jeff helps people the most with mining, and Toby and Sally are both working together to make a zoo for all of the animals they come across with nice surroundings so they can all be happy in there. Now, back to my expanding on it.

I think that they all probably split into groups on who does what, and some people will just tag in whenever they want to. BEN, Liu, Helen, and Brian are the designated builders of the world. They're really good at building and have an eye for making pretty designs, so generally, that's what they spend their time doing. Jeff, Natalie, Kate, and Tim are the designated miners in the world. They had built like a whole mining system and are constantly expanding it to collect more and more materials together. Both groups work together to help each other out, and the rest of the creeps are free to join a team if they'd like to so that they can help out more, but they usually just follow the instructions of the established team members. Toby and Sally as I said earlier are committed to building a zoo, and they name every single animal that they put in there. Sometimes others will help with building or getting animals in there (they have also been allowed to use creative mode to get animals or build something if they need to), and it's situated near the housing area so that everyone can just walk over and look at the progress when they want to. Generally, they all work really well together in their teams, but sometimes they do have disagreements.

Speaking of disagreements, one of the world rules is that keep inventory has to be on, mostly because there was a point when they kept going around killing each other and then they'd get mad because they'd lose their stuff, and fights would happen, so keep inventory has to be on so that now if they die or kill each other, nobody can be upset. (That started because Jeff and Tim would push each other into lava whenever they were in the mines and disagreed on something). They haven't even gotten very far into the Nether yet because they all keep dying or killing each other. Also, nobody is allowed to alter or destroy anything that someone else has made (even if they think it looks really bad and they want to change it to make it look better, cough cough, Helen, cough cough) so that everyone can have their own little area that they build in and they don't have to worry about the safety of the work. I think they also all have an "open chest" policy where they each have one chest with a sign above it that says open, so that if someone is missing or really needs certain supplies they can take from someone else's open chest that has extra stuff they don't really need in it. I'd like to think they also go on like planned attack expeditions, like if they find an area that has a warden they'll all team up to try to fight the warden together (they rarely succeed because everyone is just screaming and yelling and running and laughing), or they'll all fight the ender dragon together, or a wither. Also??? So many mods. BEN has added so many mods to the world and he and everyone else get so much enjoyment out of it. It can be chaotic sometimes, but the Minecraft world is one of the few things everyone can actually usually get along with about, so it's a good bonding experience for them.

[madonnamadeofasphalt]

EA & Bioware honestly did an incredible job at killing any enthusiasm I had for a new Dragon Age. Fucking hell, man, I've played the first two games so much I could probably go through them with closed eyes and still pick all the right dialogue options to get My Exact Personally Canonized Plot. And the only reason I didn't do the same thing with DA:I is because it was made after EA completely gave up on optimizing their shit so the fucking thing takes up like a billion terabytes of disc space and takes 10 hours to download and install. I honestly think it's the best-written cRPG franchise to ever have a budget that doesn't involve a list of Kickstarter backers or getting an eccentric Estonian billionaire fixated on the project. And the gameplay is also there, I don't really care about that part.

Then they proceeded to fire all the talent that made me love those first three games, and scratch and restart the production twice, and be suspiciously cagey with any details or gameplay footage for a fucking decade, so my hype consistently went down and down. And yet I still managed to hold out some hope that somehow, by some miracle, it wouldn't fucking suck.

I kept that hope until the trailer dropped. You know the one. The one where we see a bearded Varric. This, I think, was the exact moment when I lost any desire to play fucking Veilguard.

Like, first of all, Varric being there at all is already an issue. Leave the man alone. His presence was already kinda forced in DA:I. And after DA:I and Tresspasser, his story couldn't be more finished if he got killed, eaten, shitted out, condemned to hell, redeemed by divine sacrifice, bathed for eternity in the everlasting light. There is no point to Varric anymore. Whatever arc they've given him in Veilguard, and I don't even give a shit enough to read the spoilers before writing this post, it has no business existing. Fuck you. The only reason he's there is because he's a recognizable IP, and when you're a certain kind of soulless corporate moron, you think there's nothing more important than putting a recognizable IP in whatever new bullshit you're trying to peddle. Maybe if you didn't fire every decent writer in your trash fucking company, you'd have someone to tell you about the importance of Ending The Fucking Story When The Story Fucking Ends.

But that's not even the core of the problem. Beard? they gave Varric a Beard? Varric I fucking hate everything that's even tangentially connected to dwarven culture with a passion which is why I've made a point to shave my beard all my life to spite anyone who gives a fuck about it Tethras? beard? you gave him a beard? He changed so much offscreen in the goddamn timeskip between these two games that he got a motherfucking berd? fucshhfdbeard? feadsgfsvarricafgfdh BEARD? yyousftoiuslyhhabevarricasgsfucningbeardandthivkimgosabedineditit?beard????

PS. (edit after finding out spoilers) I've gone to TV Tropes to read up on Varric's role in DATV after writing this (just in case I'm wrong and dumb, and there's actually a deeply compelling narrative reason for his presence), and, well, this shit is cheaper than I thought. And more importantly, just as I thought, there appears to be no justification for the beard beyond "adding a beard is a cliche way to show that a bunch of time has passed, and we didn't care enough to think this shit through". I'm fucking tired, man.

PPS. (edit after reading the rest of big spoilers) This is so much worse than I could even begin to suspect. This is worse than the final season of Game of Thrones. This is the final season of Game of Thrones if they straight-up fired GRRM, burned his notes and hired a showrunner who's only read a one-page summary of the first six seasons. This is fucking depressing, man. I'm genuinely fucking sad. So many subplots that were started over the course of these three games, that were clearly going somewhere, scrapped in favour of a simplistic good vs. evil story that would get rejected by fucking CD-Projekt in 2007 for being too basic. All because the artists who poured their hearts and souls into this bullshit franchise got thrown out like trash by its "owners". Morrigan's kid, the Well of Sorrows, all the implied complexities of Tevinter politics, the Crows, the Old Gods, Andraste. All went to shit. Death to capitalism.

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

DUST AND FEATHERS

[In fairytales, villains have a henchmen or animal companion. Comedic relief, or typical quiet background worker. But when the Prince of Philos meets a Onychinus Employee. Lives intertwine, can fairytales really happen this way?]

-

"Aughhghg-" You groan, bored out of your depth as Luke and Kieran grumble as well.

"I am... SO Done with this mission."

"Same."

"Agreed."

...

You all groan once more.

"Maybe Boss didn't need to worry, things are going pretty smoothly." Luke mumbles, you tilt your mask towards him. "Damn it Luke."

"Wha-?"

An explosion cuts him off as all three of you stand. Racing over to the scene. Mephisto caws to all three of you, urging to follow.

"On it Bird-Buddy!" Weapon in hand, you happily jump to the next roof as the Twins laid behind you. "I told you~!" You childishly yell back as Luke scoffed.

"CAW!"

"Okay okay! Jeez Mestphios, can't a girl just-"

You take note of the sound of a Wanderer, glancing down at the chaotic scene.

Who would of thought a Wanderer would appear at one the clubs Sylus frequented for meetings?

"Well I hope the deal was struck before that thing showed up."

You search for your Boss down below the scattering crowd leaving the outdoor area.

Weapon in hand, you let out a laugh as Mestphios worriedly squawks out to you as you jump down. Landing on a fire escape that one of the buildings had.

"Sorry Mestph! I've been bored all night and need to let off some steam!!"

You jump down and race to the creature, eagerness in your eyes as you squeal. Happily attacking it as it shrieks.

"What are you doing!?" Kieran yells through your com-link.

"Looking for Boss!"

"Boss is already safe! Fall back!"

You roll your eyes. "But if we get it's Protocore before the Hunters do-!"

"So what! Boss can just buy one! Fall back (Y/N), it's not-!"

A newcomer joins into the fight, their weapon peirce through the Wanderer. You move back, taking a good look at the fighter.

Your breath hitching as you gulp down the flock of birds in your tummy.

"Hey, Boss!" Being the eldest of the group you, Luke and Kieran, created between each other. You were often tasked with leading the three of you for whatever mission Sylus had assigned.

Infiltrate a house for a gang leader that took a powerful weapon from in Onychinus.

The weapon was located in a underground bunker of the assailant study. Hidden by a shelves of book, one of them being the key to the underground passage way.

The Twins throw a few books around, as you picked one up that caught your interest.

After finding the weapon and getting rid of few guards. You take your leave, pocketing it for later.

When arriving back to base, you let Luke give the report as you head back to your room. Opening the book, you read over the story. A quiet prince who's beauty was out of this world. His side-kicks and knight accompany him on his journey to find his one true love.

Who he assumed, was being kept in a dragons castle.

They defeat the dragon, then, finding out the princess he was searching for was his knight all along!

You swooned! Not realizing these girlish emotions swirling inside you, soon turning into anger and envy. So, with the healthy way to cope with this you... You took more mission.

Soon after, the Twins started gifting you more fairytales.

The Twins had fearfully recalled your last mission to Sylus, he could only sigh and tell the two boys that you would be fine.

The male Hunter, was dressed in pure white like a dove that princess would sing too. Hair a platinum blonde like straw that could shine into gold.

Eyes bright and blue as the stars, lips as pink ad a rose.-

A female voice calls out, catching your attention.

...Ah.

She was his partner.

Anger spilling out from you, a snarl-like smile at crosses your lips. You take note of the Hunter more focused on the Wanderer. He must really want that Protocore too..

You ignore the Hunters as you use your raise your weapon and charge up to the creature.

You strike down the Wanderer, grinning at is its pained cries as it seemed to struggle once you got it down. Shoving your hand towards its arm, ripping it from their body until it finally becomes a rather big Protocore.

Grinning like a crow finding a shiny trinket, you grab it-

Shing-!

A sword is placed at your neck. A clear warning as the male Hunter eyes you carefully.

You could taste his Evol leaking out from his stance.

"..." He doesn't say a word, eyes trained on any movement from you as a action of defiance.

His female companion watches the stand-off, hand placed on her sword, but not un-sheathing.

With a quiet laugh from you, he slightly lowers the blade in confusion.

Who knew seasoned Hunters make rookie mistakes?

Within a second, you move away and find your escape behind the Hunter.

Dashing forward, the sword slices through your mask as you bite down a yell. Tackling the male Hunter as his weapon escapes his grip at the sudden tackle.

He struggles to remove you, hands wrapped around his shoulders, not tightly... But as a warning.

He ceases his movements, he stops for one second to see your (e/c) eye poking out from the cracks of your mask. Your lips smiling brightly as if finding him amusing.

MC shouts behind you as she grabs her weapon and races over.

You get up with minimal effort, foot digging into his stomach as you stand.

Soon racing off once more as MC called out to Xaiver as he groaned. Pain blooming onto his skin as the female Hunter helps him up. Calling more Hunters for damage control.

He closes his eyes as he tries to breath through the pain. But every time he did, he saw your mask gazing back at him.

-

"Hmph!" You pout, slamming Sylus office door shut. You were on "break" after the stunt you pulled. Not allowed to be on missions for a ENTIRE MONTH!

"That's what you get for acting reckless." Kieran teases as Luke agreed.

"You didn't even bring back the Protocore."

You freeze, face becoming warm as the Twins get closer.

"Boss showed us the feed from Mestphios." "That's right, I bet you were just showing off to those lame Hunters."

"You hesitated-! Augh! Hey!" Snatching the mask from Luke. Kieran laughs before he too, had his taken.

"Try and catch me jerks! Blegh!" You stick your tounge at them as they holler after you. Running down the estate stairs as you flee to the kitchen. The two hot on your trail as the Twins yell.

"Boss! (Y/N) took our masks!"

Sylus, who fixing up Mestphios wing, sighs. A tired smile on his face as the mechanical crow shuffles his feathers.

Opening the door, Sylus gesture with a small flick of the wrist as Mestphios flies out of the room. Knowing that his Master had ordered him to watch over the trio as he finishes paperwork.

-

Finding the Protocore hidden in his jacket. He crushes it his palm. After receiving medical care, he walks back into work.

A simple question lingers in his mind as he goes through files. Finding the correct one, he pulls it out. Tracing over the written words.

Onychinus.

-

[Okay so, What if-Xaiver vs Sylus Guard Reader?? It's a idea I had and wanted to test it out, I can make a small two parter if anyone is really interested. But this was basically a romantic-comedy type story so- I dunno! Comments, reblogs, hearts, art, or qna are super appreciated! Thanks see yall later!]

[jesncin]

I love your DC stuff, especially the superman and superboy stuff! Can I ask, what was it like when Conner and Clark first met? How did Clark react when he learned Conner was his kid? How does their relationship change overtime, and how does Conner get along with the other members of the super family (Mainly Kara and Jon) Also, out of curiosity, are there any other superfamily members you plan to include?

Thank you! I get variations of this question a lot, but I like answering them because I get to update y'all with how my bigger mapped out plans for Superfam are developing :D

Clark and Conner's first interaction is going to be a bad one! When they first meet, they're at odds in a lot of ways because they don't have the full picture of each others' deal. But they'll make up, I've drawn that narrative beat already here.

So here's a behind-the-scenes look into my dastardly superfam schemes:

The Kon El Superboy story comes in 3 major arcs:

Don't Call Me Superboy: Conner's origin story. Superboy on the run across America to find out who he is. It's a big story about generational legacy and what a new superman profiled through racism deals with.

(title undecided) Superboy in High School: Grounding Superboy into a stable home setting in National City with a unique cast system (we meet Roxy, Taonui, Simon, Lori and many more friends). Conner gets into love triangle shenanigans as he figures out How To Teenager. Also there is a Martian girl in school. Conner's major foe for this arc is Livewire. It'll be a modern re-imagining of the celebrity aspects of his original run, evolved into themes about the multiple identities modern youth have through their relationship with media.

(title undecided) Superboy vs Supergirl: Now that Conner's grounded himself in his new life, he has to deal with the biggest challenge of all; how he fits into Superfam, and what Krypton means to him. Kara has returned to National City, and -as the one member of the family who lived long enough on Krypton to remember it- she doesn't know how to feel about Conner. Family drama between Kara, Conner and Clark ensue. Conner meets the Steels too, and this expands his feelings about making something good out of being a Black Self Made Man Of Steel. As Conner's romantic relationship with Taonui develops here, we get combined themes of separation from source culture, in other words that sweet diaspora ANGST. Even the Martian girl misses Mars. Wow, so much homesickness.

So narratively, Conner exists as the heart of Superfam in my au, that's why I'm prioritizing his story and fleshing it out in comic form. Consider it reparations for DC canonically centering Jon Kent as THEE Superman legacy character, and relegating the rest of the family to the side.

For Kara, I do have a prologue of her origin story in mind that doesn't tie to Conner at all. The core ideas are in place for it, but it's the kind of thing that I need to do more supplemental Supergirl research/readings to get the details in place.

Jon Kent and the broader Superfam characters like Mon El, Cir-El, Power Girl, Kong Kenan, the Super-twins and the like are still in "stretch goals" territory in my mind. Some of these characters, I'm still debating on including at all, but that's for future me to decide.

My main goal for Jon Kent is to free him from the thematic Nepo Baby Pride Ad shackles of corporate canon. The basic premise behind his character is "this Superman legacy character looks like a foreigner (he is Indonesian passing like his mom), how does that affect how he navigates his heroism and dual cultures". Conner has some experience with this, and so they connect on that. If Jay Nakamura's there, he's going to be a real Gaysian and not a stupid Fantasy Vaguesian. Because if this au started with Lois Liando and Taonui Mun representing real history, making a fantasy Asian character is a cop-out. I'm not here for that Raya and the Last Dragon Kumandra representation.