#also why is playing dragon age the only thing that makes me want to make art outside of work

[lavanderlavellan]

I’m replaying dao so ofc I had to draw my new character rq. His name is Elendil Mahariel and he is a slut and a bitch

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @chaaistheanswer

Hi everyone! I am Clara, but you can also call me chaa! I am a digital artist based in Auckland, New Zealand, with a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production. After graduating from uni, I moved out to pursue my art career and I’ve been a freelance digital artist ever since. I love concept art, especially character design! Creating characters influenced by my love for fantasy is what I live for. Thank you for stopping by, and I hope you enjoyed my art! And thank you, Tumblr, for this opportunity!

Check out our interview with Clara below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I specialized in art in high school and have a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production from Massey University with an animation pathway. For our thesis film, which I worked on with several of my classmates, I took on the role of producer, art director, and concept artist. Our short film was featured in the Wellington Film Festival Terror-Fi in 2020. After graduating, I went on to become a freelance artist, but my goal is to work for the gaming industry as a character concept artist. Ever since I first picked up a pencil, I knew I wanted to become an artist!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

Art block is quite common among artists, and unfortunately, I too have fallen prey to the affliction. I have several ways of overcoming art block: watching movies, playing games, reading, or going out for a drive with my sister. These are just a few things I love to do to help keep my creative juices flowing!

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

I tend to obsessively research about completely unrelated topics while I draw. I find learning new things helps improve my concept designs, especially in creating backgrounds for my characters.

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Video games and anime were my biggest inspirations! Anything with a captivating story that’ll send me to the edge of my seat, and loveable characters. I’m particularly drawn to high and dark fantasy.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

Technology has made a huge impact on us artists over the last few years. I used to draw a lot on paper, but since getting a tablet, I find myself searching for the undo and redo buttons and even trying to zoom constantly while I draw on paper. I used to only draw for myself as well, but after posting my art online, I now have an audience to whom I can share my art. Because of this, I am able to earn a living doing what I love by creating illustrations for clients.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

I am very proud of this recent commission I’ve done for a client! Fortunately, the piece turned out exactly how I wanted it to look, and my client was very happy with the result. I am also in the process of working on a Webtoon, which is going as smoothly as I hoped it would be before its re-release!

What advice would you give to younger you about making art that's personal or truthful to your own experiences?

The best advice I would give my younger self is to never hold back! Try not to think about the negatives of creating and sharing art that you believe in. Embrace vulnerability, and don’t be afraid to dig deep into your own emotions and experiences. Always explore, and don’t limit yourself to your own bubble. And most important of all, stay true to yourself! Stay true to your values and beliefs, and never compromise your own authenticity for the sake of pleasing others. Your art is a reflection of you as a person.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@yuumei-art has been an inspiration to me since my early Deviantart days. I admire how she uses her skills to focus on environmentalism and cyber activism. @nipuni is another inspiration of mine. I found her when I was in the process of recovering from Dragon Age Solavellan hell. I admire how she manages to capture faces well while also sticking to her style. Her paintings are so beautiful and very pleasing to my eyes!

Thanks for stopping by, Clara! If you haven't seen her Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here. For more of Clara's work, follow her Tumblr, @chaaistheanswer!

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

since it's pride month, i want to highlight my favorite underrated/underappreciated queer characters and ships! (part 1/???)

(feel free to add more!)

Lake - Infinity Train (non-canon)

it's not canon but you cannot tell me that Lake isn't an allegory for trans/nb people. her arc is so beautiful and her character resonates with me so much!

i have to admit, i actually kinda hated her in the beginning because of how aggressive and rude she was, but she actually gets good character development and you can also understand why she was the way she was, being a good representation of a minority who is constantly suffering because of the social norms she’s forced into. also i don’t ship her with jesse but i do like the idea of them in a qpr or just being platonic besties.

(i use she/her pronouns for Lake because that's what they use in the series, but also because not all non-binary people use they/them, and it's kinda weird to see people insist on using they/them for Lake just because she's nb-coded. she has never shown an aversion to bring referred to with she/her pronouns.)

Le Chevre x El Topo - Carmen Sandiego (canon)

they are side characters who don't play a huge role in the narrative but they are a really cute couple and have been confirmed to be canon! even without the confirmation, it’s clear that they were written to be a romantic couple.

mild spoiler: after the series ends, they stop being antagonists and instead put up a food truck together! it’s the cutest thing, i swear

Ryan x Min-gi - Infinity Train (non-canon)

my OTP through and through! i say non-canon but the romance is so heavily implied, you cannot ignore it.

they're a good example of childhood friends who had a complicated relationship where both individuals did something wrong, but in the end, they grow as people and manage to mend their relationship together.

Moomin x Snufkin - Moominvalley (canon)

i have only read one of the books and watched a few clips of these two characters but from that alone, it's clear that they were written as lovers (and the author is queer too!)

they are a beautiful portrayal of long-distance relationship where both individuals have different needs in life, but still want to be with each other regardless.

Terrestrius / Terry - The Dragon Prince (canon)

Terry is canonically transmasc and they actually manage to explain this in the series, without making it sound too forced or expository. he's such a sweetheart too, and his relationship with Claudia is actually really sweet, despite the fact that she's one of the villains.

Carmen x Julia - Carmen Sandiego (non-canon)

again, i say non-canon but it is heavily implied that they have feelings for each other, especially in the extra interactive episode, where Carmen leaves a bouquet of red roses for Julia, and Julia is shown to blush when receiving them.

Amaya x Janai - The Dragon Prince (canon)

what’s that? it’s actually possible to write an enemies to lovers romance that is healthy and not extremely abusive?

Amaya and Janai have such a good relationship in S5 (and Amaya is also a great disabled representation!) Janai actually learns sign language to communicate with Amaya, and there are no unnecessary miscommunication plots or drama, they’re just a really loving wlw couple.

Benson x Troy - Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts (canon)

when i say we need more mlm ships in animated media!! i’m so glad us sapphics are getting a lot of representation but it’s time cartoons started including more queer men.

benson and troy are just a really sweet couple with a good relationship that doesn’t have a ton of pining or unnecessary angst. while i love complex and tragic queer relationships, i also think that it’s good to show teenagers just being teenagers sometimes.

this opinion seems to be scarce in the queer community, which really annoys me tbh.

Raine x Eda - The Owl House (canon)

i cannot believe that given the popularity of TOH, Raeda is still such an overlooked ship. this might be an unpopular opinion but Raeda is better written and has more chemistry than Lumity and Huntlow.

just within the span of Raine's introductory episode, they managed to establish a clearly romantic past between these two characters, and also an interesting dynamic. and even though they didn't have much screentime, they still turned out to be the best ship in the series. (again, just my opinion, don't come at me)

i think it's so important to show older queer people in media, just as it is important to show younger queer characters. it helps establish the fact that queerness has always existed and isn't some newfound trend that social media invented. not to mention, raeda is one of the very few canon ships that include a non-binary character.

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

"What will you do once I pass away?" The question came out of the blue, but such strange questions were par for the course at this point. Gamigin was nuzzling to your neck when you spoke, but he wasn't phased.

"I'll revive you. Death won't be permenent in Paradise Lost for as long as I'm around to stop it." You were running a hand through his blue hair, playing with a strand of it.

"But what if you don't revive me? If you can't revive me? What will you do then?" The dragon stopped kissing up your neck and shifted so he would be at eye level with you on the bed. He looked confused and hurt which almost made you ashamed that you asked the question.

"My staff can bring anyone back from the dead."

"Ok, but I age and demons don't what about that? What if I get so old I want to die to end my mysery."

Gamigin looked even more confused by your words. He didn't quite understand why humans aged so fast. He pouted in thought and stared at the ceiling. After a while, with a stern voice he asks "How long do humans usually live for?"

You try to remember your anthropology classes and what the avarage age of death was for your country, but you just can't put your finger on it. "I don't know, 70 or something like that." "70! Only 70 years!?!" He pushed you to the bed and pinned you to it with a shocked expression. His mind was working overtime trying to calculate just how long that timespan felt like.

Finally, he turns to you and holds your hands softly kissing them both. He stares determined in your eyes. "You are going to have the most exciting life ever. I promise you. What do you wish to do before you die?"

You've never seen him so stern, but the question was one that you've many times asked yourself yet never seemed to have an answer to. Gamigin's glare was starting to intimidate you so you gently slap his face.

"Don't look at me like that! You're making me nervous! I don't know what I want to do before I die. I just kind of want to see where life takes me."

Gamigin smiles like he usually does and pins you to the bed with a hug. His staff, which he kept in one hand at all times, jiggled lively as you both collapsed on the cottage bed.

"Well then, I want to cuddle with you and rewatch the 'How to Train Your Dragon' trilogy. And then we can play blackjack and whoever wins has to wash the dishes after dinner!" Gamigin proclaimed before kissing your cheek and nuzzling into it.

"Who tought you blackjack?" It was strange hearing your usually innocent boyfriend putting forth the idea of blackjack of all things.

"My brother Buer. He also thought me the dishes strategy as well. Jokes on him, I won." His giggle was contagious and you two ended up just cuddling and watching movies for the better half of the night.

If your relationship with Gamigin thought you anything, it was that you didn't have to live through bombastic experiences to enjoy life. You were having the time of your life just being close to him.

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY DORIAN PAVUS  *  assorted dialogue from dragon age inquisition, updated version

i don't care what they think about me. i care what they think about us.

i like you. more than i should. more than might be wise.

discretion isn't your thing, is it?

all this dancing, politics, and murder makes me a bit homesick.

i suppose it really depends. how bad do you want to be?

living a lie... it festers inside of you, like poison.

i'm a man of many talents. what can i say?

the moment i saw you, i thought "there's a man who knows quality."

if you don't come through this, i swear i'll kill you.

i'm curious where this goes, you and i. we've had fun. perfectly reasonable to leave it here.

here is my proposal: we dispense with the chitchat and move on to something more primal.

i tease you too much, i know.

i'll have to find something we can do that doesn't involve teasing.

time to drink myself into a stupor. it's been that sort of day.

i see you enjoy playing with fire.

i like playing hard to get.

i'm not suggesting we venture into mutual domesticity.

if it's a trap, we escape and kill everyone. you're good at that.

talk to me. let me hear how mystified you are by my anger.

oh, i'm not arguing. just pointing out the ridiculously obvious.

if you choose to leave your door unlocked like a savage, i may or may not come.

now... what was i talking about? ah, yes. me.

i am apparently an incredible ass at accepting gifts.

i prefer the company of men.

would you prefer me bound and leashed?

sometimes the ones you love are also the ones who disappoint you the most.

you are the man i love, [name]. nothing will truly keep us apart.

the things you ask are just... very personal.

sometimes... love isn't enough.

there will always be an "us." we'll just be... farther apart, for a time.

i had no idea something like you was possible.

i'm imagining what you would look like in a dress.

i've never seen you smile so much!

i have no idea what you're talking about.

you stand there, flexing your muscles, huffing like some beast of burden with no thought save conquest.

you're shaping the world for good or ill. how could i aspire to do any less?

my footsies are freezing, thank you.

don't you ever bathe?

you're not suggesting we're similar.

watch where you're pointing that thing!

i'm not wearing a skirt.

it's significantly more impressive than hitting them with a sharp piece of metal.

i only meant to say i'm very sorry for your loss.

we can continue this dance forever, if you wish.

i'm saying we should be careful what we assume when it comes to such matters.

demons don't appreciate a man with good hair.

what i wouldn't give for some proper wine.

your outfit's entertaining. i'll give you that.

he had to leave early on account of assassination.

it's nice to know you have friends.

i'm here to do what is right.

come on, just answer the question.

they were asking me about you. personal things.

you said we'd be ass-deep in trouble. this is more like knee-high.

so what's your estimation? think we can win?

you can't call me pampered. nobody's peeled a grape for me in weeks.

you startled me. you're always so... nondescript.

you're a special and unique snowflake. live the dream.

i wanted to see you make flowers bloom with your song. just once.

you've done a lot less dancing naked in the moonlight than expected.

i've never seen anyone in this part of the world do it.

i realize there's more to you than that.

have i offended you?

for hating the outdoors, you sure seem to like bad weather.

i can't figure you out, [name].

you don't play their stupid game, they send an assassin or three your way.

i can't believe you're scared of magic.

i'm going to take that as a compliment.

still don't like me, [name]? after all this time?

[name], i owe you an apology.

i suspect people will use any excuse to hate us.

why be ashamed? power should be respected, not swept under the carpet.

maybe you're not a complete moron.

i just need to know you're capable of higher thought. for my own comfort.

it would take work. and soap. lots and lots of soap.

[venvellan]

da2's arishok is a good villain. if you have a fundamental understanding of the qun and listen to his thought process, the things he does makes sense. he uses the qun to justify slaughtering kirkwall's people, which is utterly inexcusable and what makes him a villain, but his character is complex enough to make dealing with him that much more thought provoking. he sends agents to kill petrice because she was killing his people, he doesn't give up the elves because they committed their lives to the qun, no matter how recently they converted, and he refuses to leave without the tome (and isabela) because his idea of justice hasn't been done. his logic makes sense, generally, though it is wrong on more than one occasion. he isn't moral, but he is methodical.

i feel this way about solas, too. i like da2's arishok for the same reasons that initially draw people to solas, i think. when we meet them, i find them interesting and educational to talk to, someone worthy of respect, and someone very honorable in their own way. similarly, many of my issues with solas compare with flaws in the qun/the arishok.

solas asserts that all of his beliefs are correct, and we're never allowed to challenge him on any of it. if he has high enough approval, he'll approach you to go, "yknow, i thought you were all [insert prejudice or stereotype] but YOU showed me that some of you guys are actually okay," which is NOT what it looks like for someone's beliefs to be challenged.

brief aside, i want to be fair in that we don't get this opportunity with many of the companions, and it's not even an inquisition specific issue. the dialogue format is agree, joke, be mean, and it's flawed, but it works in the majority of interactions. we don't really get to engage in nuanced discussions with characters, but there are positives and negatives to the system overall. it is possible to challenge and shape a character within this dialogue system (i.e., garrus vakarian) but in dragon age that really only comes in the form of harden/unharden. it was a little more doable with origins' system, but it really hasn't been a huge part of any dragon age game. most characters' beliefs remain largely unchanged by you regardless of how you play.

solas also possesses a strong sense of duty and purpose, though what duty he has, what his true goals are, he keeps hidden as long as he can. the most damning comparison though, to me, is how willing he is to destroy the world and bring back "his people," while the qunari fight to conquer the world and homogenize society into "their people."

in any case, with both him and the arishok, you can see the wheels turning in their heads. you can see why they do what they do, even if it's wholly immoral. it makes their threat a lot more personal, a lot scarier, psychologically, that a "normal" person, who doesn't want to cause suffering, can hold such specific beliefs and such strong conviction that knowing that they'll hurt people doesn't give them any pause. the root of their motivation is understandable. solas wants to right his wrongs, at his core. the arishok implicitly believes that the qun is safer, better for its people than life outside the qun. we can see that they're taking it too far, but they don't care. it makes them good villains.

"i am not corypheus, i take no joy in this." sure, which is a very similar sentiment, emotionally, to the qunari sense of duty. you can say you don't enjoy it all you want, you're still committing genocide. you can hate the qunari all you want, but you fight with their ferocity, their unshakeable faith in their own cause. their need to "do what's right," no matter who's caught in the wake.

i understand why people like solas, i go back and forth on it myself, but i don't think he's all that different from the arishok in method and motivation. they're each thrust into a world so different from what they believe is "right" that they demand it change around them. if we had to kill the old arishok, then if solas refuses to give up, he will have to die. he doesn't get to do genocide just because he's romanceable. he's a good character, he's a good villain, but he's not a good guy, and unless he stops before he does any real harm (which he will not do), he should share the arishok's fate.

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 3 MATCH 1

Qiu propaganda:

“i love them sooooo much i was completely head over heels for cove but then i found out about qiu lin and ol2 and they took that spot in my brain IMMEDIATELY. that should say enough. also i just really want them to win this time </3”

“They're my beloved :] and also the only OL character not disqualified so I had to hdjdbdj I just wanna see how far they can go now :]”

“Genderfluid ADHD monarch. They enjoy mountain biking and ballet. As a kid, if they're set to Crush, they'll desperately try to find a way to link the MC's favorite color to themselves in an attempt to impress. They're the most popular kid in town and for good reason. Can be sharp as a tack, especially in social situations, but also can be so endearingly stupid.”

“Listen. Listen to me. Here's why Qiu Lin deserves the win (ha)

- They're a trans POC love interest (specifically genderfluid and chinese-american)

- They spend a lot of time in Step 1 (the first part of the game where everyone is a kid) being super nice and trying to accommodate for you

- They specifically try super hard to bring you (and Tamarack) into their already established friendship group

- (It doesn't work out super well initially but they're trying, be nice)

- Qiu's also just. Super sweet when you're set to have a crush on them in Step 1

- Like, their word count almost doubles when they have a crush on your MC

- There's one part of the game where you can bring up your favourite colour

- On a friendship route (or if you're set to neighbours), Qiu will maybe make a short comment about something related to your favourite colour

- On crush? Qiu stretches so far to tie your favourite colour back themself. Your favourite colour is green? That's the colour of their jacket!!! It's black? Like their bike, did they mention their cool bike!!! It's white, [imagine this is in italics] the inside of their house (no, really)!!! [end of imagining this is italics]

- They're also set to have an arc about much they accommodate for others and how they go from over accommodation in Step 1 to no accommodation in Step 2 to finding a balance in Step 3

- Also, like, they do in fact go through gender identity issues. In fact, they spend Step 2 not quite knowing their gender identity fully

Now, vote for Qiu!!!!”

"Genderfluid and uses they/he pronouns.

Their hobbies are mountain biking and ballet.

Most popular kid in town by, like, a mile. And for very good reason.

Immediately devotes themself to making sure their new neighbors (the MC and Tamarack) feel welcome in their new town.

Loooooves teasing their friends.

Is genuinely confused if the MC doesn't immediately consider them friends because. He considered you friends.

Not canonically ADHD (yet. things can change.) but like. The ADHD vibes are strong.

Forgetful and writes stuff down in a notepad to remember it, then proceeds to lose the notes. This happens constantly.

They have a whole arc about going from being overly accommodating and giving too much of themself to others, to closing off and not giving anything, to finding balance and figuring out how to be kind and caring without overexerting themselves.

Also, one of their closest friends is a trans woman. This is relevant simply because I love Renee and had to mention her."

Fenris propaganda:

“Broody hot elf with glowing tattoos and a sultry voice that escaped from his former slaver and joins your ragtag team of misfits that save the city. He is snarky with your companions and always so surprised to be loved and supported. Everytime I play and try to romance someone else I fail because I can't not flirt with him.”

“I've played through DA2 four times now and every time I think I'm gonna date someone other than Fenris and every time I don't do that”

“Please he is my husband. I literally cannot do a playthrough without romancing him regardless of how much I try to give the other chara ters a chance because his romance lines are just so good and he's always so surprised that Hawke is into him.”

[thebibliosphere]

What is the gameplay like on Gotham Knights? I have poor coordination so I have trouble with anything more complex than LOZ: Ocarina of Time. Like, on a scale of Pokémon->Dragon Age->LOZ->Dark Souls?

It's a bit clunky like Dragon Age 2, tbh. Except it doesn't have the excuse of coming out in 2011. The mechanics and camera controls are one of the things that let it down a lot, IMO.

I’m constantly getting stuck on walls and the edge of ledges because the controls feel laggy and the game’s not consistent about which surfaces you can climb and which ones you need to grapple. It's fine if you’re fighting in more open spaces but it turns the timed events into an exercise in frustration. Not to mention the number of times it feels like I’ve taken damage through an obstacle from enemy ranged attacks when my own ranged attacks bounce off invisible walls if I’m not standing in the exact spot the game needs me to be in. This results in me just key smashing melee a lot until every around me stops twitching.

I’m still enjoying it, but it is v. glitchy and I understand why people are leaving angry reviews. Especially if they are deeply committed to the immersive elements and were expecting the same level of polish from the Arkham games, which this studio also made.

I’m just casual enough a gamer that I’m enjoying muttering “parkour” to myself as I accidentally fall off buildings and plumet to my death because my graple hook glitched out and went the exact opposite way I’d been aiming.

I’m really just playing it for the characters. It feels like playing a a game written by people who understand the appeal of found family that went hard on the campier elements of the franchise while still maintaining a decent level of aching sadness for the tragedy they’ve endured.

You can feel the group fracturing under the weight of Bruce’s death with Dick doing everything he can to fill the void and stay positive and “normal” for the sake of everyone around him, including Alfred who is devastated but also trying to keep it together. Barbara, mourning an extra loss, is trying so hard to stay level headed and useful for Dick. Being both Oracle and Batgirl while also acting like a fun big sister to Tim who stands out as really young in this iteration.

Sure he’s a kid genius, but he’s also only 16 with a monumental caffeine addiction (you can’t tell me all the energy drinks on the shopping list pinned to the fridge aren’t for him) and mourning the loss of Bruce while also just wanting to do normal teenage shit, like asking the group for help with his art homework and being annoyed that his role as Robin is keeping him from spending time with his online boyfriend.

Jay is very raw and angry and obviously processing his own trauma on top of everything that just happened but even he steps up, trying to be there for Tim, teaming up with Babs to gently pick on Dick when he’s being particularly Boy Wonder-ish. Seeing him stress cook is also a nice added touch as are the photos of him and Bruce working on stuff. Bonding.

Which is another thing I Love. From what we see of him, Bruce is in his absolute DILF element in flashbacks and in recordings. All sad smiles and a gentle, head-shaking tolerance for the absolute ribbing the kids put him through for being too serious and neglecting himself. Not to mention all the pictures of him with Dick and Tim and Jason. And so many of him and Alfred and Ace. (The one on the fridge of him and Alfred showing them adopting Dick at the courthouse almost killed me. They all looked so young and happy.)

I’m getting serious “Bruce is a good dad with a warped sense of humor who hugs his kids and spends quality time with them, actually, and you’re wrong if you write him otherwise” fanon vibes, and that's honestly my favorite Bruce.

It’s basically appealing to everything I love about the franchise while scratching an itch in my brain the way crackfic taken seriously does.

And that’s enough to make me forgive the bad controls and glitches. But I could see it not being enough for some people, especially if you’ve already got poor hand eye coordination. Which I do. But again, I don’t really care about being good at games. I’m just dicking around and having fun wringing dopamine out of the narrative.

[dragonageconfessions]

Would you guys consider putting a damper on how many confessions that trash baldurs gate 3 you post? Because I've noticed an increase to the point where you have multiple confessions saying basically the same thing back to back and it's starting to feel like it's not constructive criticism but just trying to make people feel bad for enjoying something that isn't "superior" like dragon age.

First its only one person doing the blog. :)

I am trying to limit them as much as I can but I want to be fair as well because I am getting about 20 submissions a week from some very unhappy people.

I've also deleted (and blocked)a few people saying they wish the fans had the same power back during the early days of Inquisition because characters like Vivienne would be "rewritten or diminished" and most of us know what that means. And I'm going to be a bit blunt....it was a bit disturbing to see the word "power" used.

Now I have BG3 but I'm just at the very beginning as my time is limited but my brother has played it all the way through once and he describes his experience as a Love- bitter resentment thing. There were moments he loved it but near the end some things really pissed him off. And he advised me to stay away from the fandom and just play it when I do have more time to focus on it.

There aren't any other confessions in the queue and there won't be for awhile.

And if I continue to get racist posts regarding Vivienne I will continue to delete and block as my brother explained the situation with the Wyll character to me and why it connects to recent uptick in racist posts about Vivienne. I'm getting some seriously horrible confessions about Vivienne and I'm not going to tolerate it.

And thats all I will be saying on the subject. -SMC

[a-998h]

Hello I saw your Neuvillette story and I got an idea from I, what if the reader is the reincarnation of a child that he loved as his own but passed away at an early age due to sickness.

*Warning: this fic contains mentions of child death, child illness, abandonment, and depressing thoughts!*

By clicking "Keep Reading" you have read and understand these warnings

"The merchant quickly plucks the loveliest rose he can find, and is about to pluck more to create a bouquet only to end up," Neuvillette reads before being cut off.

"Why didn't the merchant just ask for the roses?" The child asks.

Neuvillette smiles and pats the child's head. After finishing the story, Neuvillette packs up and takes the child back to their home.

"Excuse me?" Neuvillette asks.

"Yes, your child has Eleazar sir," the doctor said.

Neuvillette kept his composure as best as he could. But it was hard, especially when the doctors figured out the child had such an advanced case that they only had a year left.

One year later in the summer, the child died and Neuvillette was a mess. He cried and mourned for so long. He knew he would lose you to old age eventually but now... you didn't even make it to a double digit age.

Neuvillette was forced to take today off because Furina said so. He placed a bouquet of Rainbow Roses on the child's grave and took a walk through the streets. He then saw you, a dirty little child in an alleway. When he saw you, he frowned.

"Who could do this to such an innocent thing?" Neuvillette asks out loud.

Neuvillette's first thought was to give you to an orphanage, but something made him not want to. He got you some food and he started to notice you had the same hair color as his original child.

After he adopts you it takes two years for him to realize you were the reincarnation of his original child.

"Papa, can you read me La belle et la Bête?" You asked.

He does a spit take with his tea. His first child's favorite story was La belle et la Bête, they would beg for him to always read it.

He starts to notice other things about you, how you have freckles in places where your past life had scales thanks to Eleazar.

Now he introduces you to Furina and is slightly more worried about your health, he also never takes you to Sumeru in fear that you'll catch Eleazar.

As much as he loves his original child, he never wants you to feel overshadowed by them. He cares about you and his dead child. He never mentions reincarnation because he doesn't want to give you a crisis.

"Je t'aime... mon petit dragon," Neuvillette says, as he cradles you in his arms.

He puts you to bed and makes sure you fall asleep. Kissing your forehead, he leaves you to sleep peacefully as your music box plays.

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Dark Moon | Chapter Nine

Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 1,7k

Warnings | +18, Jimin is hatching anger, asshole talk typical of their environment among boys, dirty language, sexual insinuations, Hoseok throws barbs at Jimin, drunk Jimin, noncon kissing, insults and angry talk, triggering content, yandere themes, angst, this is not for minors.

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.

And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.

That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.

He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.

➢ Author's Note | The ninth chapter of Dark Moon has arrived and with it even more darkness, I warn you that from the next chapter on, things will get stronger and more triggering.

Let me know what you think of the chapter ❤️

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie, @seokjins-luigi, @pjmsneverland, @jimincrystal, @ajkwww, @ungodlyjoon, @hecateslittlewitchling, @namjoonsbuspass, @darkuni63, @xicanacorpse

Taglist is open!

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"We caught another one of those sewer rats," said Hoseok with a satisfied light in his eyes, "At this rate they will never try to mess with the Bangtan Boys again."

"The matter is not over yet, Choi Minho played his cards wrong and now he will feel trapped.... and rats become aggressive when they realize they are about to lose their skin," sighed Seokjin, everyone nodded, then Jungkook asked Jimin a question.

"What?" he asked absentmindedly, Jin squared him up making the person concerned roll his eyes.

"What would you like to get out of the whole situation?"

Jimin licked his dry lips, casting a glance at the woman in charge of serving them drinks; she was beautiful, he couldn't deny it, but she lacked something.

No, she lacked nothing, she simply wasn't Y/N.

With a snort he pointed to the glass, ignoring her mischievous glances, "I'd like to get some whiskey in my glass," he clutched the bridge of his nose between two fingers, trying to relax, but how could he when his personal whore was not only giving him trouble but also putting her hands on him?

How had she allowed herself? And why hadn't he reacted? What was that "I'm sorry," anyway?

He should have beaten her until he saw her blood dripping onto the kitchen floor, but he had frozen. The blind rage he had felt was so devastating that his body had automatically refused to release it.

A laugh from Taehyung made the whole group notice the incoherent answer to Jungkook's question.

"Dude, is everything okay at home?" asked Taehyung, encircling the hips of their waitress, who had meanwhile poured whiskey for Jimin, "Do you want me to send you one who knows how to do her duty?"

"Are you implying that I suck at picking my girls, Taehyung?" quipped Seokjin quietly, immediately making the younger man shake his head.

"No way, Jin!" Taehyung clasped his hands together in apology, but he could tell he was joking, even Seokjin smiled deliberately.

"Please, by now Jimin has a whore who faithfully waits for him at home and with whom he has sex every day," mocked Hoseok, "He would even turn against his friends for her," he taunted, remembering perfectly that day in the infirmary, he had not liked Jimin's attitude toward him, the whole room fell silent, confused expressions arose on the faces of the other five, unaware.

"What did you say, Hoseok?"

"You heard me, Jimin... Maybe you don't care about anyone anymore because you have better."

Jimin found himself gritting his teeth at the redhead's insinuations.

His work was his life, his friends were his family, Hoseok himself was like a brother, he would never hurt him for...

Jimin wrinkled his forehead, remembering the discussion in the infirmary more sharply. Had he really threatened Hoseok?

What was that damn bitch doing to him? Because that was all it was about, wasn't it? She was a slut, nothing important, nothing to protect. Just a nice little object fit to fulfill his cravings.

"Stop talking bullshit, I would never reject my family, for anything or anyone in the world, when I like something I get a little jealous and you know it's better not to provoke me when I'm in that state," he tried to get over it, passing off his attitude as something completely harmless and natural, Hoseok shook his head as if to say 'Always the same', but for Jimin it wasn't over there. Now he was really pissed off as hell.

"Come on, come on! Let's not spoil the mood for stupid fights, let's toast to the Bangtan's imminent victory!" exclaimed Namjoon, trying to act as a peacekeeper between the two quarrels, everyone raised their filled glasses, but Jimin remained with his thoughts fixed on Y/N.

He came home drunk, the lights were already all out, but Jimin didn't give a shit.

He was lackluster and very angry, a deadly cocktail for a man of his mold.

He searched for her like a mad bull, "Y/N!" he growled harshly, throwing open her bedroom door, but no sign of her.

He looked around in hopes of finding her, but had to backtrack, retraced his steps into the living room and then into the kitchen, but the only rooms left to check corresponded to Jimin's room and their respective bathrooms. Jimin strongly doubted that she could be in his room.

Despite the legitimate consideration, he staggered to the master room of the house, when he opened the door he found himself squinting. The girl was slumped on the floor, various books were strewn and left open around her, she must have been rummaging through his things out of boredom, beginning to read here and there to get an idea about the man's literal tastes, the latter was not softened by the sight, anyone else would have found the scene of their girlfriend intent on sleeping peacefully all curled up like a wren tender, but he was not anyone and she was not his girlfriend.

He shook her by the shoulder several times, heedless of Y/N's physical frailty, and when the latter opened her eyes, she found herself facing Jimin's grim face.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" hissed the man between his teeth, Y/N blinked quickly in despondency, what had she done this time?

She glanced around the room with its strongly masculine and restrained decor, instantly remembered the moment she had entered Jimin's bedroom out of sheer curiosity, bitterly regretted entering it.

"I-I...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-ah!" she didn't even have time to finish her sentence, Jimin grabbed her by the arm forcing her to fall back uncomfortably on his king-size bed.

"Shut up and save me the trouble of still listening to you," he blurted out, quickly undoing the buttons of his dark shirt, the woman blanched.

Jimin wanted to again... ?

Now that the fog of sleep had cleared from her mind, she could notice the lackluster movements of the man, who had come to open his belt listlessly, the now half-open shirt gave a perfect view of his pecs and a hint of a sculpted abdomen, the mussed hair on his forehead contributed to his distraught look.

"You're drunk," she noted in a huff between trembling lips, Jimin smiled lazily.

"What do you deduce that from?" he kicked off his shoes, which were immediately followed by the tight jeans that contained nimble, muscular legs, everything about Jimin pointed out what a dangerous predator he was.

"Please, Jimin," it was the first time she had ever begged him using his name, "Let's not do this now, not like this-you're not yourself," she whispered softly, the fear already almost impossible to contain.

"And how should we do it?" he asked using the same gentle tone, crawling onto the bed until he completely overpowered her, their noses were only millimeters apart, "More importantly, when should we do it? This sounds like a good tease to me, Y/N," his magnetic eyes descended on the younger woman's lips, glittering with mischief.

The girl tried to calm him by gently taking his shoulders in her hands, imperceptibly pushing him away.

But Jimin grabbed her wrists in a firm grip, lifting them above her head and attached his meaty, experienced mouth to the trembling petals he had been studying with growing desire.

His tongue thrust directly into the girl's throat, she widened her eyes and tried to break free from the lack of air, Jimin was as if possessed, biting and sucking those lips as if his life depended on it, not giving her the slightest time to recover and pursuing her shyer tongue without hinting to surrender.

"I kept you away from all those perverts at the Dark Moon," he descended on her neck to bite the most sensitive flap of skin, "I almost beat up a friend who is like a brother, for you," he squeezed those slender wrists more tightly, releasing a breathless moan in Y/N, "And I scarred that bitch's face in revenge because she dared to hurt you," he said finally, the woman did not understand the last sentence, did he mean that Jimin had punished Ester permanently for her?

She did not have time to reason out that last thought, Jimin was beside himself.

"But you keep pushing me away, being a runaway bitch, you even look at me in disgust, and fuck, you really piss me off!" he exclaimed angrily and in a petulant tone, "I gave you a home, bitch! Something you could have only dreamed of if you had gone about your business and you show not the slightest respect for my efforts!" he continued to verbally rail at her, who was shaking and whimpering in shock.

Jimin had always been scary, and he had always been dangerous, and he had even hurt her on more than one occasion, but she had never seen him like that. He was drunk, he could have done anything to her without the restraint of a conscience anymore, always if he ever had a conscience, she was terrified.

And the more the boy thought of her not as a whore, the more furious he became. Because it had never happened that he liked a woman romantically, it didn't fit into his plans, and it was twisted in his reasoning, but he had sworn to his past that it would never happen, that he would never give in that way.

"Jimin, wait a moment, calm down and let's talk about this tomorrow.... you're right, you're right," she whimpered, "I didn't behave well, but now we can't discuss it, it's really not the time," she tried to appease him, Jimin tilted his head, scrutinizing her face, which was purple and streaked with badly held salty tears, snapped his tongue against his palate, before grabbing the fabric of her shirt with a funny koala printed on it and pulling toward him, causing a gash at the young woman's chest level, forcing her into another sick and shameless kiss.

"Fuck the talk, tonight I'm going to fuck you good and you'll just have to take my cock," he said, leaving her speechless, "Turn around."

No. Not again, not again in that humiliating position.

She quickly shook her head, "No!" she pushed him away with a kick, but the man flinched in time, remembering that first night that changed both their lives.

"I'm not that drunk," he laughed viciously, forcing her to carry out his command.

And there, watching her trembling and with her shapely buttocks hidden by the pajama suit, Jimin had a cruel and angry idea.

[apostaterevolutionary]

Collecting some thoughts on veilguard cause tbh I really don’t know how to feel lmao so. Unstructured ramble time

I’ve watched the trailer and the demo and I feel very. Idk? Still ‘wait and see’ mode for me. It’s been 10 years. Inquisition imo was the weakest of the 3. And while I have kind of moved on from DA there is a part of me that wants this to just blow everything out of the water and be amazing. I’m just not sure if that’s what I think will happen. Right now, I just think it doesn’t feel dragon age-y enough (in terms of what I, personally, consider the defining traits of the series) but I don’t want to jump to conclusions with so little information

The trailer was. Fine. Vibes were a little off but given its Varric narrating, it makes sense (also. Unpopular opinion lmao. I love Varric but I don’t think he should be a companion again. If there’s a carry over companion, it should have been Dorian. And tbh he could still be there, considering they said 7 companions but Varric is not included in that. So did they mean 7 *new* companions and maybe a few others? Advisors again maybe? Idk. Maybe Varric is a temporary companion, but I don’t think he should be there except maybe as a cameo. Scout Harding is an unexpected but fine carry over though). I don’t really have an opinion yet on the companions themselves cause there’s just. Nothing to base an opinion on other than the character designs

Gameplay demo shows that they’re definitely going very Inquisition-y. As in, continuing further down the path it started. Which isn’t unexpected, but is a bit disappointing, though not necessarily a dealbreaker as of yet. It’s probably smart tbh to go more in an action rpg direction than back to the crpg roots given it’s going to be compared to bg3 no matter what they do - better to differentiate as much as possible. Though I don’t think that’s why they did it, probably more a happy accident. I just. Idk, I found inquisitions combat a bit boring and I haven’t been impressed by what I’ve seen yet. But a 20 minute demo is probably not enough to really form an opinion

I feel like you can still see the echoes of this being a live service game at one point too. Healing potions coming from pots found in the environment (I never got over healing spells being cut btw lmao, bring back spirit healers already), the “ability wheel” (unsure about that too, given it sounds like we can’t control companion characters anymore? Kinda really don’t like that :/), stuff like that. I still feel like DA2 combat was the perfect balance between fluidity and strategy but it is what it is. It performed badly, so they’ve disregarded it wholesale rather than consider that some aspects of it may still be worth exploring. It sucks, but that’s capitalism I guess

As for all the other little things, idk, I really am not sure what to think yet lmao. Some sound good. Some less good (why only 2 companions, I don’t like that at all - also weird that the demo shows you won’t have a tank for the initial bit of the game. That’s a weird choice). Nothing to make me go aaaaaa either positively or negatively yet. I don’t even know what to say. My feelings are just so complicated about it, but also kinda empty at the same time. Like. It’s a bit of kombucha girl meme but also muted? I would like to feel just. More about it. But I don’t yet. I’m too unsure. Not quite numb, but almost tbh

At this stage, I feel like I’m gonna wait till it comes out and see what happens. No pre-ordering until I get a better idea. It’s like. With origins, I’ve played it a lot. DA2, even more - countless times lmao. Inquisition though, I played 2.5 times immediately after release and have tried to play it multiple times since but. I only ever get 10-20 hours in before I get bored and can’t make myself continue. I’ve tried many, many times and idk why but I just can’t do it. I never even played any of the DLC, so like. I kinda need to do that first if I’m gonna play veilguard but I have never succeeded before so idk how I will now lmao. But I feel like at least trespasser is necessary and I have genuinely never played it. And I gotta play the rest of the game first to get there and I genuinely don’t know if I can sksksjs

And with that in mind like. If inquisition is that unappealing to me, a game that feels very inquisition-y, potentially leaning even more into the stuff I didn’t like about it, is. Definitely not what I was hoping for. It’s still possible it’s leagues better than inquisition and actually playing it will be a great experience. But right now I just don’t know. I probably won’t be able form any kind of opinion until it comes out and I start getting info from trusted folks that I know have good DA opinions lmao

Idk. I’m not trying to be a wet blanket or a hater, and I genuinely don’t think I am being a hater at all, but I am just. Very tired and nervous. But also cautiously hopeful. I’ve said ‘idk’ a lot lmao but I truly don’t know at this stage. I guess we’ll see. Let’s hope it’s actually amazing and the very thing we need to make the series as a whole feel like it used to for us lapsed DA fans

[endless-ineffabilities]

never tear us apart

Aemond Targaryen x f!Reader

part five of the prūmia va perzys (heart on fire) series

part one: don't you love me? - part two: and what of your love? - part three: the flames that divide - part four: the aftermath

themes/warnings: injury, language, dragonrider!reader (her house is not stated)

word count: 6.1k ▪︎ masterlist

The Blacks make an attempt to lift the curse cast upon the reader. Aemond does everything he can to reach Dragonstone, in hopes of seeing the reader again. A sinister plot forms, threatening to cast everything into further chaos. Or set everything right. Only time will tell.

Alys Rivers is no stranger to pain.

When she was discarded by her mother at the steps of her apparent father’s castle at a tender age of 10, she felt it.

When her father did not completely recognize her as his daughter, relegating her to be one of the workers of his estate, she felt it.

When she had to fend off an attacker, using all of her meagre physical strength, digging her nails into the man who attempted to overcome her and take her girlhood, she felt it.

Pain is no stranger. And it is no friend, either.

But pain was something that she merely accepted, until she found the Lord of Light. Her mother sought her out years after she abandoned her, telling her that it needed to be done. She needed to leave Alys, so that she might be able to devote her days and nights to the one true Lord.

Alys should have been angry. She should have wept upon seeing her mother again, hurled questions and accusations at her as to why she left her only daughter. But strangely enough, she could not find it in herself to do so. She did not feel it was important then. Does that make her emotionless, devoid of even the slightest connection towards her mother? Perhaps, perhaps not.

All she knew was that she understood her mother’s motives. She found a sameness in how her mother was ready to sacrifice everything to Him.

The Lord of Light. The Red god. Alys found him, but already knew of her. He already knew of her pain, and he promised to take it all away. He promised her a saviour carved out of the very same pain, and strength, and sapphire-blue. The one chosen for her as a vessel into the light. Whether to love or to use as a mere tool to spread the Lord of Light’s power, she does not believe it to be in her hands. What matters is, her one-eyed prince would come and her very being would be devoted to him.

What Alys Rivers did not anticipate was that her one-eyed prince’s heart would already be spoken for. The flames did not impart that she would have to fight tooth and nail for it. For him.

She did not know that Aemond Targaryen’s heart would already be yours.

But then again, she is no stranger to pain. She felt it in the way Aemond squeezed her neck, in the way he dug his fingers into her skin until she almost turned a sick shade of sapphire-blue. Its talons buried themselves deep in her heart when her prince beloved Aemond, in all his unbridled rage, promised that he would never truly love her. Not in the way that he loves you.

No matter. He is merely lost, and I can bring him back into the light. Her delicate fingers graze the bruises on her neck, feeling him. She has already set her plan into motion, but nothing is certain. There are ways to bring you back, and she is aware of this. Her best hand is yet to be played, and there are things about to unfold. Things that will bring untether Aemond from you.

He will be mine, once y/n is consumed by the flames. After all, how can he still love you when you are gone?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Aemond has always been perceptive, ambitious, insightful. Eager to overcome any slight that his disability has added on to his existence, real or imagined.

Even before the fateful injury, he has already possessed a similar sense of pride. Self-preservation, borne out of being a Targaryen prince without a dragon, who also stands to inherit nothing. The second son. Everything he wants, he has had to carve out for himself. To take for himself.

As if to pour salt on the wound, it is clear to everyone that he is far more capable and more suited to the throne than his older brother Aegon. But this matters not, at least not whilst Aegon survives, and his sons along with him.

This thirst to prove himself, to make sure that whoever encounters him sees him as worthy, has always stayed with Aemond. He did all he could – ensured himself to be knowledgeable about the histories, philosophies, High Valyrian, battle strategy and combat expertise, the religion of the old gods and the new, and all else. There isn’t one important volume in the castle's Great Library that Aemond has not gotten his hands on, living and breathing the words, memorizing them.

Every bit of knowledge, each newly honed skill, forms into a new facet of his being. Making him better. Making him whole. All Aemond ever wanted was to belong. To be whole.

But he never thought he could achieve this without effort. Without strife to overcome. This invisible yet ever-present need to prove himself became something like a burden he has to carry. He never felt that he could belong, truly, until you.

But you had seen him. Accepted him. Aemond did not need to woo you with any embellishment, he did not need to tell you how he had memorized the histories of the Seven Kingdoms. It mattered not that he might be the most skilled swordsman of his age, having painstakingly trained each day since his tenth nameday. The allure of his status, of the power of his family, was not something that drew you to him. He quickly discovered that he never needed to impress you, he only needed to love you.

Aemond tried to fight it, but that did not last long. After all, is it not useless to deny oneself what calls out to the heart?

The day Aemond Targaryen allowed himself to love you, and be loved in return, was the day that he finally belonged.

And without you, the one-eyed prince would be unanchored.

Aemond remembers the night that you first met as he sits in his chambers, waiting. Years ago, you had rolled your eyes at him, at a prince of the Seven Kingdoms, when he said something out of turn about your friend Rhaena’s lack of a dragon. You were quick to retaliate, sharp and biting with your words. But the morning after, when you came across him sitting all by his lonesome in the library, you apologized.

Granted, you demanded his apology first, but there was something in his violet eyes. A certain awareness, a melancholy. There might be some darkness creeping in Prince Aemond’s heart, but there is an undeniable light there, too. A remnant of lost innocence. You caved in, and curiosity got the better of you. For hours, you spoke to your heart’s desire, each new subject brought up only increasing your interest in the one-eyed prince. And his interest in you was piqued in turn. From then on, countless days and nights were spent together in the comforts of the great library.

His heart swelled, perhaps for the very first time in what felt like forever, when you had fallen asleep on his shoulder one night, as he read to you about the chronicles of Princess Nymeria.

He hasn’t been the same since.

The night that has passed since he has heard of your affliction has been long and torturous, leaving him increasingly restless and stricken with worry. He had wanted to take Vhagar and fly to Dragonstone right away, without any mind to what his arrival in enemy territory would entail for him. He almost relinquished his part to play in the war. This ceaseless game that is being played out for the Iron Throne is what drew the two of you apart in the first place.

Until his mother stopped him, promising a better plan.

And so he waits.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

At the height of the hour of the owl, in one of the royal chambers of the castle in King’s Landing, something is evidently afoot. The room is bathed in warm candlelight, the shadows reflected on each individual’s sombre faces. Their voices are low, in hushed whispers, ensuring the matter at hand to be clandestine.

Alicent is stern when she commands, “You shall help your prince in this matter, Lady Mysaria. You are, after all, in the debt of your King, and by extension, our family. Whatever slights you had to endure by our hand, we implore you to forget them. Have we not made good upon our word to eradicate the fighting pits in Flea Bottom? To ensure the safety of all the children?”

Mysaria studies the Queen, her shrewd eyes taking her in. She knows that she is not being presented with a choice, not truly. Not with this matter. She notices the grey shade of exhaustion right below Aemond's empty, glazed eye, caused by hours upon hours of worrying over you. His stance is taut, like a viper prepared to strike. Eagerly awaiting whatever impediment will stand in his way, so that he might destroy it swiftly. He would do whatever is needed, even the most distasteful of actions, simply so she would assist him in reaching you.

Aemond continues to say nothing. His eye boring straight through Mysaria. She knows right away that he does not give any mind to her. She is merely a tool for him to use, so that he will see you again.

Mysaria says, in her silky, sly tone, “I know you understand our arrangement, my Queen. I come and go as I please. I give you information as I please. You have had much use for the whispers that I provide. If I were to help you now, it will be of my own volition.”

Alicent purses her lips, “Of course. That it not being contested - ”

Aemond interrupts her impatiently, “Know this, White Worm. I am commanding you to do whatever you must so that I can reach Dragonstone, discreetly. Although,” he stalks towards her, “I will see y/n again, with or without your aid. Should you choose to help me, you shall continue to walk free. Otherwise,” he turns his head away, knowing his point has already come across, “hmm.”

“Are you threatening me, Prince Aemond?”

Slowly, Aemond turns to look at her once more. Mysaria was initially resolute in meeting his gaze, showing him that she will not cave easily. But his eye darkens, his expression a quiet type of menacing, but shadowed with a sense of grim that brought a chill to her very bones.

At once, Mysaria realizes that her Prince Aemond is not to be trifled with.

“I can get you to Dragonstone soon,” she starts.

“Today,” Aemond emphasizes, determinedly.

“On the morrow,” Mysaria counters, “there will be the timed arrival of resources by ship on the island. I can arrange to have you on that very ship, accompanied by some of my trusted… whisperers.”

“That’s not soon enough.” Aemond paces away from her, not satisfied with the solution.

“You should know, my prince, that the Blacks have employed the aid of a certain priestess of the Red religion. Someone who might be capable of countering the effect of the curse laid upon your paramour. They will attempt to conduct a healing ritual tonight,” Mysaria says, knowing every word strikes true in Aemond, hope slowly creeping in his expression.

“And this priestess… Can she be trusted?”

“She has not shown any sign of being otherwise. Rest assured that once you land on Dragonstone, I can have the Lady Y/n in some place which can be easily reached by you,” she pauses, careful to add what follows, “That is, if she will awaken.”

“She will.” Aemond’s eye snaps straight to hers, burning through. “She must.”

Mysaria merely nods once, before addressing Alicent, “Queen Regent, I trust that our arrangement is to your satisfaction? Now that you know how your son will be transported to Dragonstone under my care, do you still wish to move forward with this plan?”

Alicent takes a deep breath, knowing that no matter what her decision might be, Aemond’s mind is already set in stone. He will get to you, one way or another. Better to do it in the safety of the shadows, away from the malicious notice of the Blacks.

Alicent did not fully trust Mysaria, but she trusted that this Mistress of Whisperers understood, that should she play a hand in harming Aemond, then she would not hesitate in subjecting this waiflike serpent from Lys to the worst torture imaginable.

“If Aemond wishes it, then it shall happen,” Alicent finally says, looking to her son for confirmation. Aemond straightens, before nodding, “I shall await your counsel regarding this journey. I trust that you will get everything done right, won’t you, White Worm?”

There is a vague threat lacing the end of his words, one that does not go unnoticed.

The corner of Mysaria’s mouth lifts in acknowledgement, and she curtsies slowly, before making her leave, her translucent skirts billowing behind her.

A mere moment passes, before Alicent strides closer to her son, and takes both of his hands in hers. “Aemond, this will no doubt be perilous. There is no way of knowing what the Blacks might do should they discover you. Is this truly your desire?”

Two seconds pass, four, five. It is not the first time that Aemond has been on the receiving end of his mother’s worried pleas, and he knows it will not be the last.

Taking a deep breath, and comfortingly squeezing her hands in turn, he only has you on his mind. “Yes,” he finally says, “it is.”

Alicent need not ask why. She assents, “Alright. I trust that everything will go well, and you will return to us afterward.”

The last sentence, she says mostly to herself, in desperate need of reassurance. In hopes that no harm will come to her favoured son.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The atmosphere in the room is thick with despair and anticipation. A mixture of strange aromas infiltrate the air, making it hard to breathe.

From one side of the room, Daemon Targaryen’s face scrunches in disgust. And a whole lot of impatience. His fists are clenched on his sides, one foot tapping as the bloody witch continues her work on the seemingly vital concoction.

The Lady Cerrah kneels by the side of your bed, a small cauldron fuming by her side. Her voice comes out in deep, hushed whispers, as she performs the bulk of the spell. Her eyes are shut, and for a task of such importance, she does not seem to give off any sense of worry or agitation.

That fucking witch looks so calm. Daemon paces to another corner of the room. How the fuck can she look so calm with y/n’s very life on the line?

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra beckons to her husband, reaching for his hand, “she will be alright.”

“She best be in perfect health after all this sorcery,” he huffs in response, “otherwise, a certain witch won’t be leaving Dragonstone in the same state in which she arrived.”

Still with her eyes closed, Cerrah calls out, “Make no mistake, my prince. My hearing works just fine. We would not want to distract me from my work, lest it lead to any complication. It would not bode well for the poor Lady y/n here.”

“Our apologies.” Rhaenyra replies, also on behalf of her sulking husband, who continues to irately glare at Cerrah as if she possessed two heads.

“The rest of it, if you please, Maester.” Cerrah says, and Maester Gerardys walks forward and places a wide silver platter beside the cauldron.

Cerrah studies the contents, her fingers drifting over them as if feeling for a pulse. She takes a handful of charred wormwood and drops it in the cauldron. Next, she takes the sliver of dragonscale, retrieved from the hide of a slumbering Fyraxes, and it follows suit. The mixture hisses and bubbles as a result, the fumes growing ever stronger and more pungent.

“Āeksiot Ōño, gūrogon ōregon hen zirȳla prūmia.  Āeksiot Ōño, gūrogon ōregon hen zirȳla ñelly.  Āeksiot Ōño, gūrogon ōregon hen zirȳla ��brar.” Cerrah’s chanting increases in intensity, her tone sounding harsher, the words muddling over one another like a single drawn out command.

A cold, biting gust blows inside the chambers, causing the shivers to erupt on the skin of its occupants. The flames of several candles flicker then die out.

Rhaenyra’s hand tightens around Daemon’s, as she senses his distress resurfacing.

Cerrah lifts the chalice of young goat’s blood from the platter, and pours it in the cauldron, which suddenly begins to expel a bright, blue flame. It rises several feet high, the resulting heat so searing that it warms the entirety of the chambers.

Maester Gerardys and his two attendants have to wipe at their foreheads to keep beads of sweat from entering their eyes. But the Targaryens stand still, unperturbed by the blazing heat. The blood of the dragon rings true.  Queen Rhaenyra’s violet eyes mirror the flames in their vibrance, fierce and unblinking.

“Āeksiot Ōño, gūrogon ōregon hen zirȳla prūmia.  Āeksiot Ōño, gūrogon ōregon hen zirȳla ñelly.  Āeksiot Ōño, gūrogon ōregon hen zirȳla ābrar.” The words echo again and again, as Cerrah lowers her fingers into the cauldron, her face struggling to mask the pain it brings. Her fingers come out stained, and she stands, relentless in her chanting. She drags the potion from your hairline to the tip of your nose, painting your skin deep red, the colour of the god R’hllor.

Cerrah’s words wash over you, prayers to her high beloved. “Lord of Light,” she pleads, “take hold of her heart.” The ritual is centered on the healing of your heart, as it had been the target of Alys Rivers. Your heart had to cease, to symbolically be set in stone, so that it will not yearn to be united with its other half. The very one belonging to Prince Aemond.

Love has been the catalyst of all this pain, and only love can bring you back. The Lady Alys never would have set her tainted sights on you, had you not been the keeper of Aemond’s heart.

As you still are. As you will always remain.

“Āeksiot Ōño,” Cerrah rasps, passion punctuating her every word, “gūrogon zirȳla prūmia lenton.”

The flame in the cauldron disappears, as does all the flickering candlelight around the room. Everything is enveloped in shadow, with only the pale moonlight peering through the shutters.

All is silent, save for Cerrah’s hushed whispers.

A long moment passes, until Daemon’s growl breaks the stillness, “Why will she not awaken? This procedure has taken up nearly the entirety of a fucking hour.”

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra chastises, “perhaps you should wait outside.”

Daemon sulks, lowering his head, “No. I want to be here when she awakens.”

Rhaenyra comfortingly strokes his back, almost amused at his disposition, “Very well then.” She understands his qualms over the situation, over the notion of entrusting your wellbeing to this strange priestess. But they were at their wits’ end. They needed you back, hale and healthy.

Cerrah’s chanting stops abruptly. She lays a hand atop your nightgown, just above your heart.

“Is something the matter?” Daemon asks.

“There is… something missing.” Cerrah sighs. “I can feel the Lord calling out to me in return, but he cannot fully take a hold of myself and the Lady Y/n. It does not seem as if he can heed my plea due to a missing piece.”

“What piece, my lady?” Rhaenyra questions, growing nervous.

“A piece of her heart.” Cerrah breathes. “I need a piece of her heart.”

“You’re bloody demented, witch, if you think I will allow you to cut her open like some fucking boar.” Daemon strides forward without much thought, allowing his emotions to overcome him.

“Daemon, don’t - ” Rhaenyra tries but her words fall to deaf ears.

“You said you would bring her back to us,” Daemon grabs Cerrah’s shoulders, gripping tightly, “so, bring her back.”

“I said I would try, Prince Daemon.” Cerrah meets Daemon’s eyes unwaveringly, unperturbed by his anger. “I just need a piece of her heart. Not in the literal sense, mind you. If only you would give me a chance to explain myself first.”

Daemon releases her, stepping back, “You are in no position to reprimand me, my lady.” He adds the title mockingly. “Tell us what you need.”

“I can’t be certain about the object,” Cerrah muses, addressing everyone in the room, “but I need something that she owns, or something that was given to her out of love. A piece of her heart. Something laced with love. True love. Yes… yes, that is what we need.”

“Laced with love,” Rhaenyra whispers, something coming to mind.

Maester Gerardys looks perplexed, unable to come up with an answer. Daemon looks around, his eyes landing on your sword resting on the mantle, “What about her sword? She has fought with it since her youth. Surely it holds a special place in her heart.”

“That may not be enough.” Cerrah shrugs.

“Wait,” Rhaenyra says, before walking over to the round desk in the middle of your chambers. On top of it rests the boxes sent many days prior, the ones containing gillyflower from your own secret field. A thin layer of dust is displaced as Rhaenyra lifts the lid of one, revealing the remnants of wilting gillyflower inside.

She takes them gently, careful not to crumble the fragile flowers in her palm.                                                                                                   

“Laced with love,” she declares, meeting Cerrah’s eyes across the room. The priestess only nods in understanding. She does ask any questions. She can feel it, feel that the dull flowers in the Queen’s palm hold something more vivid that anything else in the room.

It is, in essence, a piece of a heart. From your Aemond, for you.

“It will not work.” Daemon grumbles, gripping Rhaenyra’s wrist as she approaches Cerrah, “Look at y/n. How can that one-eyed idiot claim to love her after having caused this.”

“We have no other choice, Daemon.” Rhaenyra shakes out of Daemon’s hold, and extends her palm to Cerrah, surrendering the gillyflower.

In one swift motion, Cerrah lowers the gillyflower in the cauldron. She resumes her chanting, her confidence renewed, “Gūrogon bisa jiōragon.  Iā piece hen zirȳla prūmia.  Iā object hen drēje jorrāelagon. Dovaogēdy, mijegon sȳndror, vok.”  Take this offering. A piece of her heart. An object of true love. Unsullied. Without the strain of darkness. Pure.

She dips her fingers once more in the deep red mixture, and flits them over your lips. With your mouth now stained crimson, the flame reignites in the cauldron.

From the shadows, your spirit awakens. You faintly hear an unfamiliar voice, a woman calling out to you from the void. You sense a light, glowing in the periphery.

“Ivestragī jorrāelagon jemagon se ñuhoso.” Let love lead the way, you hear the voice again.

You gather your strength, aching to find home in your body once more. Struggling against the haze that confines you to weightlessness, disconnecting you from reality, you will yourself to return.

For the final time, the flame dies in the cauldron. The room is neither warm, nor cold. Everything becomes still. Quiet.

All at once, your crimson-stained lips part, panting for air. Your fingers curl at your nightgown, seeking to feel something again, anything.

Nobody can attempt to conceal their amazement.

“Gods be good,” Maester Gerardys gasps in awe.

“God,” Cerrah haughtily corrects, all the more feeling that she has a right to, as she gazes upon the result of her work.

“Silence.” Daemon commands, as he walks over to your bedside, “Y/n?”

At the height of the hour of the owl, nearly a fortnight after being cast in the shadows by Alys Rivers, the Lady Y/n finds her way back to the light. To the living world filled with suffering and bliss. Of hatred and desire.

Ultimately aided by Aemond Targaryen’s love, you had been coaxed out of the darkness.

In the caves underneath the castle in Dragonstone, one particular dragon shakes back into consciousness.  A deep, resounding growl builds in Fyraxes’ chest, threatening to escape.

When it does, it reaches even the farthest corner of the island.

Finally, you open your eyes.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Your muscles ache as you reorient yourself with movement, leaning against the windowsill. The cool morning air is nothing but a welcome sensation, and you cannot resist taking deep breaths of it, the smell of the sea creeping up your nostrils. Rolling out your neck, you let out a faint groan.

“You should rest, y/n. The maester has advised you from engaging in strenuous activity of any kind.” Rhaenyra suggests. She and Daemon have steadily kept you company since you had awoken, themselves forsaking the comforts of slumber.

“I’d wager that the maester prefers me to not make any movement at all,” you jest, walking over to the table, and sitting down slowly. You take another plum from the plate brought over by your lady-in-waiting, and devour it eagerly, juices flowing down to your chin.

“Easy there, y/n,” Daemon chuckles, “or you might just exhaust Dragonstone’s supply of fruit.”

The doors open, and in enters Jacaerys, a relieved expression on his face.

“Y/n,” he rushes over to you, and squeezes you with both arms, “don’t you ever do that to us again.”

“Alright,” you smile, “I’ll try not to be put under some inexplicable curse. What a burden it turned out to be.”

“Right,” Jace nearly punches your shoulder in jest, but catches himself at the last second, “I am glad you are finally awake.”

“Jacaerys,” Daemon says, “why don’t you arrange for Fyraxes to be taken at the eastern coast, somewhere close to the docks, so that y/n might reunite with her dragon as well as enjoy the morning sunlight.”

Your face lights up at the thought, “She is okay? I would love to see her again.”

“Of course,” Jace nods in agreement, before quickly planting a kiss on your cheek, “leave it to me. Y/n here could benefit from a bit of fresh air. Besides,” he winks at you, “you kind of reek of stale sheets and sweat. The outdoors should do you a world of good.”

A hearty laugh escapes your lips, the first one after a very long while.

“You arse,” you call out to Jace’s retreating back.

“You mean, royal arse.” He counters lightly, humour lacing his tone. He politely nods to his sires, before leaving the chambers.

It is not long after his departure before Rhaenyra decides to address the low hanging question, “Perhaps we should talk about this… curse that you were dealt. A grievous harm had befallen you, and by extension, us. Rest assured that the one behind this assault will be put to justice.”

“I trust that you have some inkling as to who possesses the ability and the motivation to harm you, y/n.” Daemon adds, looking out the window in thought.

Rhaenyra says, “We have determined that it had been the work of a priestess - ”

“A demented witch.” Daemon interjects, sneering.

Rhaenyra takes a deep breath, before continuing, “It was a priestess of R’hllor who did this to you. The consensus seems to be that it may have been Alys Rivers, Aemond’s apparent consort. Well, at least she was. Word has reached us that the wedding has been called off, by none other than Aemond himself.”

So, he has followed through on his word. You straighten, letting the news settle over you. They are not to be wed, but what does this entail? He did mention something about keeping her in his employ.

“And if it is that wretch who placed a curse upon you, then it must have been at the behest of her master.” Daemon determinedly says, not a trace of doubt in his mind.

You feel empty. In the literal sense, as you had not been able to consume anything for too long, before this morning. Your head feels light and floaty, like you are a newborn babe finding her bearings.

But it is another matter entirely, the way that possibility makes you feel hollow inside. That Aemond may have been behind this ploy. That he had tricked you, and is not to be trusted.

“He couldn’t.” your voice comes out weak, tinged with doubt, “He would never do this to me.”

“I must admit that I feel inclined to agree with you, as it was the gillyflower sent by him that rendered the ritual effective. We needed something given out of love, and it worked.” Rhaenyra reaches for your hand, “However, it might be best if you do not see him. Even if he did not play a hand in the curse, as you believe, he could still lead Alys to you.”

You shut your eyes, leaning back against your seat. Nodding your head once, you attempt a smile at Rhaenyra, but it does not reach your eyes, “I wish to see Fyraxes.”

“Of course,” Rhaenyra stands, “I shall fetch someone to escort you.”

“No need,” Daemon says, “you’ll find Ser Erryk waiting outside. I had anticipated your desire to see your dragon, y/n, and I have already alerted the knight to keep a close eye on you.”

Rhaenyra pauses, this knowledge not having been shared with her, but she lets it pass. After all, Daemon truly cares about you, and would only be attending to your needs, especially in your fragile state.

“Thank you, Daemon.” You take his arm as he escorts you out of the room at a sluggish pace, your body still lacking its former vigour.

You hope that seeing Fyraxes might keep any thought of Aemond at bay, even though you already know that it will be for naught. Sooner rather than later, he will find his way back to your mind. To your heart.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The waves have been harsh and unrelenting, the wind threatening to make Aemond’s hood fall to his shoulders. He kept a tight grip on his cloak, as he sat in the quarterdeck of the hunkering supply ship. His royal garb has been exchanged for commoner’s clothing. All measures had to be taken to conceal his true identity.

The White Worm’s supposed whisperers were a pair of fishermen, regular workers on the ship, responsible for gathering the greater part of their freshwater fish reserves. They had stood to the side, always a few feet from the Prince, should any trouble come up.

But fortunately, it did not. The long journey from King’s Landing to Dragonstone remained uneventful. 

The ship had docked nearly half an hour ago, and the two fishermen led Aemond further onto the island. The small group had only been walking for a quarter of a mile, before one of the men turns to address Aemond, “Continue down this path,” he gestures forward, “for just a good few minutes, my prince. Then you will find what you came for.”

Aemond looks to where the man is pointing, seeing nothing but the same jagged rocks. There is no path. This might as well be a fucking ambush.

The taller of the men notices the prince’s hesitation. “Head down this way, Prince Aemond. It is understandable if you think that your trust is misplaced in us, but know that the White Worm does not turn back on her word.”

Aemond turns away in contemplation, watching as the waves slam against the eastern edge of Dragonstone.

“Hmm.” What other choice does he have, if he wishes to reach you?

Mindfully keeping his hand on the dagger by his belt, he marches forward, tilting his head in acknowledgement to both men as he passes them by.

Aemond is only partially giving mind to any potential threat, his focus unconsciously straying back to you. He is not even certain of what he will find as he walks further, but he wants only one thing.

To see you again. He holds on to the hope that whatever ritual conducted has been successful, and that you are free from the clutches of  Alys’ spell.

That is the one thing that can set things right. The very thing keeping his sanity intact.

You are the final strand of light keeping Aemond from completely yielding himself into darkness. 

Not too far away, Fyraxes stretches on a clearing amongst the rocks. Your hands glide over her scales, the feeling of her immediately making you at ease. She groans in satisfaction, mirroring your relief.

Your brow furrows as you notice her tense abruptly, craning her long neck to the side, seemingly sensing a new arrival.

“Skoros iksis pirta?” What’s wrong?

Leaning against her, you can’t help but brace yourself against danger. Dragonstone might be a steadfast fort, easily defensible against explicit attacks, but you now know better than to underestimate the reach of dark magic.

Fryaxes groans, not one of displeasure or alarm, but rather, recognition. Familiarity. A call you knew all too well. Whomever she sees coming is far from an enemy. Could it be Daemon? Rhaenyra? Surely it cannot be Ser Erryk, who has just taken leave to allow you some time alone with Fyraxes.

You take a few steps toward the direction she watches in anticipation, the faint sound of rapid footfall reaching your ears. You think to call out to ask who goes there, but the words never leave you. You see him.

Aemond comes into view, and your knees almost buckle from underneath you, your body seemingly remembering how delicate it has become.

His familiar shapely lips are parted in amazement, taking you in. Reaching up, he lowers his cloak, his silver hair a stark contrast to the dark cloth.

“Aemond,” is all you can say. And that was all it took. Aemond’s legs move on their volition, drawn to the sound of your voice. He pauses right in front of you, his hand reaching to caress your face, and you cannot find the strength to protest. You are not certain that you even want to. Whatever peril he might pose, your skin still yearns for his touch.

His hands gently hold either side of your face. He notices how you appear slightly gaunt, frailer, and it torments him. Immediately, he is compelled to punish the woman who caused you to be this way.

But for now, he relishes in the elation that only you can bring him. 

“Y/n,” he whispers, his voice breaking. Carefully, as if fearing that you might break against him, he presses his forehead to yours. 

“Aemond,” you say, stronger this time. A hundred questions threaten to spill from your lips, but you reel them in, save for just one. “What are you doing here?”

He laughs in disbelief, shaking his head. “What am I doing here?” He repeats, making it sound like the answer is supposed to be the most obvious thing in all the realm.

“What am I doing here?” he scoffs, repeating the question yet again, and right away, you know. 

“Avy jorrāelan,” Aemond says, quelling whatever worry remains in you, “That is why.”

I love you. Of course. It truly is the most obvious thing in all the realm.

Your lips meet, finding home in each other once more.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

In another part of the sprawling castle, a clandestine meeting takes place. At the bottom of a turnpike stair, at the end of the long and narrow hallway, there lies a room cloaked in shadow.

Three individuals stand inside, only able to speak freely to one another in this very room. At least, when it concerns Aemond Targaryen… and you.

“Has he reached the island?” The mastermind speaks. Who else can it be but the Rogue Prince himself?

Mysaria replies, “Indeed he has. He is convening with Lady Y/n as we speak. Everything is unfolding according to your plan, my prince.”

Daemon sneers, “Very good.” He turns to the other person in the room, “And you made certain that the Queen remains unaware of what transpires?”

“Queen Rhaenyra does not know that Prince Aemond is on Dragonstone, my prince.” Ser Erryk affirms. “I swore fealty to the Queen, and as you said, this plan is solely carried out in her best interest. I will not turn my back on this.”

Daemon’s pride swells. Soon enough, his beloved nephew will atone for his crimes.

And the rest of the Greens shall fall.

So who suspected that Daemon may be up to his usual serving of chaos? Alys Rivers will still play her role, but the more realistic threat to yours and Aemond's romance will be our very own uncle-daddy. You guys seriously didn't think that he would just everything slide, did you?

Wow did this take so long to post!?!?! I still don't think that long of a wait was worth it, and I'll try my hardest to get the next part done sooner :)

Thank you thank you to all of you who follow this series, routinely flooding my inbox with requests for the next part when I take too long. 🖤 Hehe yous are aces.

Apologies if I missed anyone on the taglist - it has gotten all too long (which is a good thing, after all) but I suck at organizing it, so I hope this post finds you well if I failed to tag you. 🤍

Series taglist: @crazylokonugget @xinyourdreamsx @raging-panda @zelzablues @whitejuliana1204 @caught-in-the-afterglow @a-demon-daughter @meilikki @carlottalhn @aemondswh0re @afro-hispwriter @xcinnamonmalfoyx @ietss @writer-lee5 @solacestyles @noneedtosearch @umavvitch @abcdefghi-lmnopqrstuvwxyz @inpraizeof @evye47 @kellzlib @janelongxox @daydreamerblues @hearmeout-inc @marrianena @poisonedsultana @lithebunnyq @nushy @foras @thesheelfsworld @abcrosia @anangelwhodidntfall @kyrieshoka @katefullerrr @gxthicwxrm @bluscryn @lwqfhp @vampxra @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @justsumtuffstuff @verycollectivecreator @chiyausu @mistalli @buttercupstrand @cullenswife @blacpiink @darylandbethfanforever9 @pockcock @alexayoonlee (continued in comments)

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

Rant on Kestrel and Kestrel Apologists:

TW: Child abuse, Abuse Apologism, and angry controversial ranting.

Kestrel is one of the most easily hateable characters and is a IRREDEEMABLE dragon.

She is literally a CHILD ABUSER. She physically and verbally ABUSED the DoD. She also let and even used her strong>weak favoritism, racism, and ableism from her strong>weak mindset towards Sunny affect the way she abused the DoD.

She also literally abused the DoD since they were TODDLERS, which is revealed within the book Dragonslayer, since Sky, who was around 1 year old - who’s currently eight years old - saw Kestrel HIT the DOD because they were playing, like any child would do, with Glory showing signs that Kestrel was abusing her the most - who are currently now 7. This means that she started to abuse the DOD where they LESS THAN 1 years old - just as, or even younger than the currently age of CLIFF, who’s nine months old!

🔥There is literal PROOF that Kestrel physically and verbally abused the DoD on the wiki AND within the books.🔥

I also want to remind people that in the prologue of The Dragonet Prophecy, when the Skywing egg died, instead of suggesting to give the remaining eggs to dragons within the Talons of Peace that actually want to be parents and/or raise the dragonets themselves - she literally wanted SMASH the DoD eggs - KILLING them instead!!

And within the prologue of TDP as well, she stated that she literally didn’t care how she affected the dragonets, as long as she raised them to be within the prophecy.

Kestrel NEVER cared for the DoD. She CHOSE to abuse them. The only reason why she tried to save them from Scarlet and appeared to Morrowseer in the epilogue was because it was her JOB. Nothing else, especially since she stated HERSELF somewhere within a main part of the first book that she literally didn’t care about them.

So when I see the majority of the fandom - or at the very least, the fandom on Youtube and some parts of the WoF wiki - is sympathizing over hating Kestrel, I honestly don’t get or like it at all, what-so-ever.

And when I hear some people say things about Kestrel that are somewhat similar to THIS:

“Yes, she abused those kids, but it was because she was grieving the death of her own kids!”

“She did abuse them, but she was just doing so because of the death of her children.”

or even

“She wasn’t abusing them, it was a form of tough love!”

It makes my literal blood BOIL.

Because while defending a fictional character’s abusive actions is much, MUCH different than defending abusive actions of a person in real life - let alone child abuse -

Defending actions like these is still indirectly connected, regardless whether it is fictional or not, due to the fact that child abuse is a literal thing happens to people in Real. Fucking. Life. Like - to this very damn day. Especially since these excuses towards child abuse like this are even used to excuse real people literally being or was abused as kids as well.

Grief is NOT an excuse to abuse literal children. NOTHING IS!!! Abuse is a CHOICE - regardless of how people were raised, or even by how mentally impaired they are. It explains it, but does NOT excuse it. EVER.

There are literal dragons within Wings of Fire - and literal people IRL even - who suffered through MORE grief and/or trauma in the past than Kestrel, that, despite it, we’re still better dragons in the end. Like GILL, for example, who lost not one, not two, but TWELVE of his daughters. And despite this, he was STILL a good dragon who cared a LOT about his subjects and sons, and tried his best to stop the literal war that happening within pyrrhia - in order for ALL dragons to live in peace - and even created a protest within Scarlet’s arena in order for EVERYONE to NOT be forced to battle each other to death for a horrible and iconic villain for her own joy and amusement.

*Sigh* I am SO sorry for making this angry, probably hateful, and VERY long rant. This was something that was bothering me for MONTHS on end, and wanted to let it out so people can know my view about Kestrel and the way she’s treated within the fandom, although this is probably a improper and bad way to do it.

I am NOT saying people shouldn’t like Kestrel as a character, or even as a dragon, for how awful she is. I’m also NOT saying people shouldn’t feel bad for what happened her either, because what did happen to her, was, indeed, downright AWFUL. Feeling things like this about her is ok!

However, it’s one thing to like a character for how awful they are and feeling bad for what happened them-

than literally EXCUSING and even JUSTIFYING her literal abuse towards literal dragon CHILDREN because of how bad you feel about and/or how intensely you sympathize her.

So yeah - In conclusion: Kestrel one of the most easily hateable characters and is an irredeemable child abuser, who physically and verbally abused the DoD since they were the age of toddlers. She also never cared for them, and only attempted to save them because it was her job. People also shouldn’t justify or excuse Kestrel’s behavior as well, since it unintentionally and/or indirectly defends the same type of abuse that is currently affecting people IRL. And while yes, you can like her character and feel bad for her, you should NOT justify her actions towards the DOD at all. WHAT-SO-EVER.

Anon also left some evidence. I put some of it below:

Abuse Against Glory

Abuse against Clay

Abuse Against Starflight

Abuse Against Everyone

[fangmich]

Also the comment about "People who want romance in rpgs are annoying" made me again realise how people who say that just don't get it.

I think I made a post about this years ago about how it's not just romance, it's part of it but the main thing I think people need in rpgs are better relationships between the people in the game. We need different kind of companionships because how else could you include your character into the world.

I felt like this in Original Sin 2. Sure my character was present but she will never be as cool as the written characters Larian created. She was like part of the world but also not important to anyone. Which is I guess ok to use as a narrative method but it feels more like a joke and a bit empty at the end.

Since I finished Pathfinder WotR I guess I also can include it as a good example why relationships are important for the roleplaying part. Not all of them were good but some actual gave me the freedom to establish my characters personality.

I think in that Awoved interview they said the game will be like Outer Worlds or it will have the same scope. Well I for example can't remember if I even had any kind of companionship with my companions in that game besides Parvati who you can create some kind of bond by relating to her or helping her in a very personal quest. I can't remember a single thing about the other companions besides the banter they had between each other. Why can't we be space buddies?? (I have more memories about being buddies with Alistair from Dragon Age and that game is centuries old!)

The other thing from that interview is this part:

The companions in Avowed will be tied more tightly to the story than in previous games, apparently, and the team wants to make sure they hit their story beats without confusing the issue with relationships. "We wanted to make sure that we were paying that off and we didn't feel ready to do romances as well," Patel says. "Especially because it gets kind of awkward if you're trying to save the world together and then you've broken up but this person is still travelling with you."

First thing it sounds like they are doing the Larian thing where they wrote cool OCs and you are their sidekick who leads them to becoming a god or something. Which is ok but do I really want to play a husk of a character?

The other thing is they did relationships in Deadfire before and I get it's a lot of work but again with the acquisition you would think we could expect more but alas. I think it would be more genuine to say no one wanted to make romances so we didn't.

The other other thing is why is it established that we need to romance companions? We spend most time with them but when they are in the way then some cool side characters who are outside of the main story but have their own thing going on are fine too?! Since when did games start to make only companion relationships/romances🤔

Like I said before I trust Obsidian to write a good story and the game will be fun just wish they wouldn't need to paddle back with the expectations which were created.

I also honestly wish people would stop and think a bit more why rpg players want deeper bonds with characters instead of calling them annoying and being happy they aren't part of the fandom. Less people who enjoy your games the less likely you will get games.

[anneapocalypse]

On the actual significance of the "Grand Game"

In the three Dragon Age games thus far we have seen Orlesians from three perspectives. In Origins we get the Fereldan view, Orlesians Are Evil, this from a nation occupied and oppressed by the empire and not yet over it. In DA2 we get the Marcher view, or you could call it specifically the Tethras view, Orlesians Are Stupid, a view no doubt cultivated by the fact that the only Orlesians you meet in Kirkwall are rich expats wealthy enough to have a second home in the Free Marches but not important enough to actually need to be in Orlais. And in Inquisition we get I think the closest thing to the Orlesian view of Orlais, which is: we're very powerful and you should want to have us on your side; please ignore all the chaos and civil war and how expendable we consider the lower classes.

Throughout all of this I think it is worth noting that the only people who think Orlesians are so subtle and clever are Orlesians, and mostly it's just the nobles and their hangers-on who think that about themselves. We're introduced to the concept of the Grand Game through Leliana, who romanticizes the whole thing due to her life as a bard. Varric by contrast has very little in the way of romantic notions about Orlesian nobles and mostly portrays them as comical buffoons, from Emile de Launcet to Duke Prosper de Montfort; not one of Varric's Orlesian characters is ever meant to be taken seriously by the audience. In Inquisition, a lot of hay is made about the Game and the need for favor and so forth but it pretty much all boils down to "Nobles have money and troops. We need those. Make them like you."

To me, the interesting thing about the Game is not that it's actually deeply complex or intricate, but how central it is to Orlesian identity. Of course there are intricacies to court politics, but most of it comes down to knowing whose interests and connections lie where, and how those interests may be successfully manipulated. That's not "Orlesian politics," that's just politics, and it's not meaningfully different from politics elsewhere. What sets the Orlesian aristocracy apart from Ferelden, when you look past the cultural trappings and the aesthetics, is mainly that Orlais has much stronger barriers to upward mobility in place (freeholds, or land owned by commoners, are practically unheard of in Orlais, whereas the freehold is the backbone of Fereldan culture).

But where I think the cultural significance of the Game truly matters to Orlesians is in the way it's meant to set them apart as the Good Empire. The empire that is cultured, sophisticated, civilized--you know, not like that other, bad empire up north, the one with the blood magic and the legal slavery. Please pay no attention to the blood-soaked floors of the servants' quarters (or the illegal slave trade that flourished in occupied Ferelden and behind closed doors of remote estates). We negotiate power with subtle words and gestures, and definitely don't sustain it with the blood of the powerless just like the magisters do, but without the magic. It's the magic part that makes blood magic bad, not the murder part. (This is a big part of why I love The Masked Empire, so much, as it really has so much to say about the nature of power and empire and who truly suffers for the games the nobles play, but it's also why what we see in the servants' quarters in "Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts" is so important.)

And this all ties into Orlais as the seat of the southern Chantry as well, sitting in opposition to Tevinter politically, culturally, religiously, all of which are inexorably intertwined.