#Love in the Time of Gloom Spawn

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: After years spent investigating the mysterious shrines and statues of East Necula, Dr. Calip has joined the Zonai Survey Team’s efforts to study the Ring Ruins that fell on Kakariko Village. The ancient structures are fascinating, but what has captured Calip’s attention is the chasm in the forest on the hill. Odd things emerge from the darkness of its gaping mouth… one of which just might be the uncanny apparition that calls itself Princess Zelda. Thankfully, Calip is not alone in his attempts to understand the mysteries of Hyrule. While Calip has been gazing into the abyss, the leader of the Zonai Survey Team has been gazing at him.

Author: @pocketseizure

Note from submitter: this ship does not get enough love istg

[sheikfangirl]

Gloom nightmares...

Link is totally sleep-deprived on his Tears of the Kingdom quest.

He NEVER rests. But despite all his efforts, it is inevitable: Link collapses and sleep wins over him... and when that happens, Link has the most vile and repulsive nightmares!! Puppet Zelda and her cruelty is always there, ready to mock and torture him.

PS. Nintendo could've gone waaaaaaaay worse with Puppet Zelda if you ask me

PS 2 If you are wondering, yeah, this is a shameless homage to that iconic Evil Dead 2 scene. Groovy! 😊

[leighsartworks216]

Designated Lockpicker

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Inspired by this post

Saw this and I HAD to write something about it. It only took me until 11:45 to finish it but it's okay I'll suffer the consequences

Warnings: one swear word, reference to Astarion's past abuse, mention of a terrible texture, innuendos

Word Count: 1,219

Masterlist

AO3

You poke your head into the room. Dust motes float through the air, which reeks with musk and mold. You'd probably cover your nose and seek fresh air if this wasn't the millionth time you’d smelled it.

Your eyes scan along the walls, floor and shelves, searching for anything interesting. Food would be nice - Gale wouldn’t stop pestering you for ingredients to cook with. Bandages wouldn��t hurt either if it would ease Shadowheart’s workload every time you got into a minor scrape.

The room was rather sparse, but it looked like it may have been a study at some point. Books were scattered everywhere, chairs were tipped on their sides or had broken legs, a desk was angled oddly for its placement. Whoever lived here before, they must have left in a hurry. Which was excellent news. Maybe they left something behind.

From the other rooms of the building, you can hear your companions’ muffled voices. You can only make out one or two words as they speak. Karlach seemed to be talking to Astarion; Wyll and Gale were going back and forth further away. You couldn’t hear Shadowheart or Lae’zel, but this didn’t surprise you.

The floorboards creak and groan as you step into the study. Stray beams of light keep the gloom away, for the most part. You can almost imagine how lovely it once was.

You go to take a book off the shelf, but immediately draw your hand back when the binding squishes at the slightest pressure. You scowl in disgust and wipe your hand on your pants to remove the gross sensation. Unfortunately, your more learned companions would not be getting any new reading materials today.

Against the far wall, stationed behind the desk, was a dresser with a glass case on top. All the case had was scrolls, damp and turning green. Any information they may have held was gone.

You grab the handles of each drawer in turn, sliding open the dresser to reveal its contents. A vial of ink here, another useless scroll there - nothing exciting. Until you open the bottom drawer.

Poorly hidden under some loose paper was a chest. It appeared to be made of metal, hardly rusted despite its surroundings. For its size, you were shocked how heavy it was when you lifted it out and set it on the desk just behind you. The lock didn’t look too complicated. You had some spare lockpicks in your pack, you could easily grab one and get it open. You could.

Instead, you leave the chest where it is and step into the hall. You try to listen for your friends, again, but they seem to have done deeper within the establishment. So you do the next best thing: “Astarion?”

The shout travels down the building, and from one of the rooms pops out the vampire spawn. He seemed confused why you’d be calling him of all people. But the confusion is quickly masked with suave confidence as he sauntered down the hall to you. “Yes, dear?”

You smile sweetly at him. “I found a locked chest. Could you help me open it? Please?”

He smirks and taps a finger under your chin, getting you to tilt your head upward with just one motion. “Since you asked so nicely.”

He follows you back into the room. His nose scrunches with the smell of rotting books, but the look is gone as soon as he sees the chest. You round the desk and turn it around toward him. He can’t stop his smile as you rest your arms and chin on top, still fixing him with that darling look.

This had become a habit, to his mind, anyway. For you, this was an enrichment of sorts to provide Astarion with a sense of purpose. Late night talks had made it abundantly clear just how much he loved feeling useful. For two centuries he was used, his autonomy stolen from him for the sake of his master. But little tasks like this did not feel like an imbalance in power. He would open whatever lock you wished for the praise you showered on him alone, but you also ensured he got his pick of whatever was inside. He was being rewarded for his services, something that never happened before - nothing good, anyway - and you loved giving him his moment to shine.

He just assumed you couldn’t pick a lot to save your damn life.

“I’m beginning to think you just like watching me,” he teased. He produced a pick from his pocket and began working away at the lock. “Trying to learn my trade secrets, are we?"

You hummed, looking down at his hands as they moved together fluidly. He could do this in his sleep. “Never. I just love watching you work, that’s all.”

He chuckled. “Really now?” He lifts his attention from the lock to look at you, hands pausing in their ministrations. “And what is it about my work that you enjoy so much?”

You meet his gaze. He can only describe the look you give him as fond. Love seems to rest in your irises, gleaming back at him, on display for the whole world to see. “Your hands,” you answer, and while it was supposed to be part of your playful banter, you say it so genuinely. “You’re always so precise, like you just know exactly what needs to be done before you even start. It reminds me of your embroidery.”

“And here I thought it was for more depraved reasons.” It’s a deflection. He still isn’t used to being seen like this. Seen by you. He still thinks of the way you describe how his hair curls around his ears, and how his face wrinkles when he laughs. “I’m always happy to give you a hands-on lesson, my sweet. Just say the word.”

“And if I ask for you to teach me how to embroider?”

His devious smirk relaxed into a soft grin. He nods. “It would be my honor.”

Silence takes over as he returns to his work. It’s warm and welcoming, despite your surroundings. Basking in the quiet felt easy around him. He could be reading a book, and you’d slot yourself right next to him, and never was there an expectation for him to stop to entertain you. You just wanted to be around him. It meant more to him than you could ever know.

With a final turn of the pick, a faint click comes from the chest. He seems to puff up with the success, like an all-too-proud bird. He slips the pick back in his pocket and steps back as you round the desk. Instead of going straight for the chest, you cup his cheek in one hand and press a kiss to the other. His cheeks would be positively flushed if he had the blood for it.

“Thank you, Astarion,” you whisper against his skin, pressing another kiss to his cheek right after. He leans into the heat of your hand.

“It was my pleasure, darling.”

You pull away with a grin that could put the sun to shame. You turn to open the chest, eager to know what hides behind those metal walls, and he cannot stop admiring how perfectly a stray beam of light hits your skin.

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Not Man, Nor Monster

Masterlist Word count: 1.5 k Halsin x Reader x Astarion (but he isn't really in it. just the dynamic) Read on AO3

Summary: You tried so hard, but in the end you couldn't stop Astarion's ascension. It weighs on you harder than you had imagined. Halsin helps you get through it.

Normally, camp is a place to unwind. A place where the outside world doesn't exist, except for those nights where the outside world infiltrates camp. Luckily, those nights are few and far between.   Tonight is a different situation. There are two empty tents. One is permanently empty, the other temporarily abandoned to find peace in nature. The one belongs to Astarion, the other to Tav. The rest of the group thought about going after either of them to try and talk this through, but Jaheira made the wise decision to let everything cool down before starting a conversation.  There's a blanket of tension and gloom thrown over the camp as everyone tries to dance around the subject at hand. Jaheira, Halsin, and Gale sit around the campfire, all three hopelessly lost while looking for something to talk about while a bottle of mermaid whiskey gets passed around in circles that seem to go a little too fast. Scratch and Honey, the owlbear Tav jokingly named after Halsin's favourite snack, scatter around but aren't playing as they usually do. It seems even the two of them can feel the tension. Scratch had to be called back multiple times while trying to go after Tav.  Gale finally breaks the silence: 'So what do we do now?' Jaheira shows a pained smile as the mermaid whiskey is passed to her. The bottle is almost empty by now.  'We drink and we wait,' she speaks. Halsin shivers. Quite the sight to see someone that big shiver.  'This doesn't feel right.' As if on que, a bloodcurdling scream is heard from the forest. It is loaded with regret, pain, and heartbreak. The scream goes through bone and marrow, sending a cold shiver down the spines of everyone at camp. Shadowheart comes running towards the campfire, panic in her eyes.  'I think someone should check up on them,' she hastily says, almost getting ready to run into the woods but Halsin gets up and nods to her. She looks defeated and maybe a little annoyed. Jaheira pats the spot on the ground where Halsin was sitting as he walks calmy towards the forest. 'But I-'  'It's better if he goes,' Jaheira interrupts, 'those two are inseparable.' Shadowheart knows it to be true but still looks hesitant as she sits down. Jaheira passes her the mermaid whiskey. She toys with the bottle for a second before finishing it off. 

'Tav, are you here?' Halsin doesn't have to ask, he is one with the forest and knows every creature there. He simply does it to be polite, to give Tav a chance to tell him to piss off if they so please. He finds them curled up and sobbing, laying in the middle of a small clearing. They look up at Halsin with big, red eyes. He hates the sight and would kill Astarion for doing this to Tav but they are more important than his murderous rage right now.  He sits down next to them and they lay their head in his lap. Halsin gently brushes his fingers through their hair, allowing them to let it all go, let everything slip out.  'He told me he'd make me his spawn, after everything we've been through. He tried to do to me what has been done to him. I should've never helped him with the ritual. I am so stupid.'  'No darling, you couldn't predict this. You see the good in everyone, that's what makes you so incredibly special. It is one of many reasons why I love you.'  'You know, that's the worst part. He told me he loved me before proposing to make me his spawn. How can someone be so incredibly cruel? He was healing and this just changed everything.'  'It pains me to see you like this. No one deserves that kind of treatment.'  'But I do. I am far too naïve to fight this fight. I shouldn't be leading a group of people into battle. I'm not strong enough. I make too many stupid decisions.' Halsin can feel as the pain and sadness Tav feels turns into rage and self-hatred. It's something he's never seen of them before. They're normally the sunshine smile at camp, the motivator, the helper. He must've been blind to forget they're a person with fears and insecurities too. Blinded in the light of their smile as to not see the shadows behind it.  'My heart, if not you then who? You are the only one in this camp without a clouded opinion. The only one who weighs every option evenly and thinks ahead. Sometimes I feel like you can see into the future.'  'Even so, I let someone with such a black heart cloud my judgement for so long. I can only be grateful that you saw through all of it. Not everyone at camp is as forgiving as you are.'  'My love, I am not forgiving in the slightest. I hold grudges until the end of time but you always see reason.'  'Halsin, please. I know you're trying to make it better, but I just want to wallow in my feelings until I can't feel anything anymore.'  'Are you sure?'  'No, but your words usually soothe me. Now they only piss me off. I don't want to hate you.' Their breath hitches in their throat as the sobs come up again. Halsin lays himself down in the grass and pats his chest. Tav takes the invitation and lays their head on his chest, curled into his body with his arm around them, holding them tight. It feels like a safety blanket, like a cloud numbing the feelings of before. The big feelings weighing on their chest seem to lose their weight as a spell of tiredness lifts over them. Surely, Halsin has something to do with it, as well as the protective spell they feel encasing them in their spot, but they don't mind. And slowly night becomes day. 

'They're not back yet,' Shadowheart asks Jaheira while they're both suiting up.  'No, and I doubt we'll head out today.' Jaheira can tell that, while she's trying to be respectful and loving, it annoys Shadowheart that Tav can't shove their feelings to the side in favour of the greater good. 'They'll be fine soon. They're strong but you have to realize that they've been playing the part of listening ear for weeks now. Maybe even months. They've listened to everyone's troubles and tried to fix them. Astarion was a real piece of work but even I could see he was starting to regain self-worth and love for life. Besides, they were together for some time. They did everything they could to make Astarion as comfortable and happy as possible and he still stabbed them in the back. That's not something you come back from easily.'  'What do you mean?'  'You did not hear what he proposed to her last night?'  'No, it is not my business.'  'You should make it your business,' Jaheira grumbles, 'he told them he loved them and he'd make them his spawn to love forever.'  'I see. It makes more sense now.' 

Morning light wakes Tav with a comforting thumping under their head. They open their eyes to see Halsin still peacefully sleeping. The protective spell he covered them with has long worn off and so has the sleeping spell he put on them. A smile spreads on their lips as they push themselves up to press the sweetest of kisses on his lips. They did not want his help yesterday but are more than glad he put them to sleep. Nothing they thought or said was rational yesterday.  'You are going to give me toothaches if you keep kissing me that sweetly.'  'I thought you liked sweet.'  'I never said I do not.' A content feeling flushes over Tav as they lose themselves in this moment. There is still good in the world.  'I've been dreaming,' Tav tells halsin, 'I dreamt about a world overgrown with lush greenery and people living in peace with each other and everything around them. There was no Astarion, no elder brain, no tadpoles. Just you and me sitting on the porch of a tiny house we built looking out onto a lake. Sometimes we would go out and roam, uncover the forests around us and finding new spots each and every time. And you told me you loved me every day and I said it back every time.' Halsin smiles and tightens his arm around Tav.  'That sounds like heaven.'  'I wish it were possible.'  'Maybe it is. Maybe we'll find a way after all of this is over.' They stay quiet for a while.  'I think we'll need to kill Astarion after all of this is over. I fear he might be worse than Cazador.'  'As much as I wish it were different, I think you are right, but we'll get there when we get there.'  'Deal.'  'Are you ready to return to camp?'  'Not yet. Let's just stay a little longer.' 

[m00nlight-ramblings]

Waiting Room

You see Astarion again, years after the final battle of the Elder Brain.

Pairings: Ascended Astarion x GN! Reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, sad girl hours, discussions and allusions to sex but no smut, NOT a happy ending. MINORS DNI 18+

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Based on "Waiting Room" by Phoebe Bridgers. Get ready to cry because I love hurting my own feelings. Graphic made by me, I do not consent to my work (graphic or writing) to be shared without my permission

The first time you had fallen in love with Astarion was the first time you laid eyes on him.

Sure, the handsome, charismatic vampire had threatened a knife to your throat at first meeting, but that was only because he was scared – unsure if you and the other companions were trustworthy. Though there were ups and downs throughout your journey, eventually you had all fallen into a found family dynamic – looking out for one another as if you had all grown up together, though you were all as different as the next.

It only took a few days for the magnetic connection to take hold between you and Astarion. Once the initial shock of the parasites wore off, you often found yourselves near each other. In battle, tents next to teach other, nights around the fire…where one of you was, usually the other was as well.

The romance started the night of the camp party with the Teiflings. You were sure Astarion was only looking for sex – which, to be fair, was the most incredible sex you had ever had in your life – and that was how he acted.

For a bit.

Late night sneaking into your tent turned into talking until the sun rose, or secret walks alongside creeks, or stolen kisses when the companions weren’t looking. The secretive nature of your love was exciting – a bright light in between the doom and gloom of the Ilithid, and battle, and blood. When Astarion finally started to open up, and the reality of his traumatic past set in, you were there for him in more ways than one.

Soon, the others in camp started to notice. There was no denying how you stole glances at him, or how Astarion looked at you, totally enraptured as you spoke. His smile when you entered the room, or the gleam in your eye as he teased others.

“You two have been in love since the moment you met,” Karlach had mentioned one night, smiling, “We’ve all seen it. There’s no denying it. It’s a beautiful thing to witness throughout this whole thing…in a way, it’s giving us all hope.”

Heavy breathing, gentle touching, hair pulling, and names muttered like prayers. Silent laughter while the rest of camp slept, promises of finding a ring so Astarion could walk freely in the sun, admitting to fantasies of your future together. A renewed hope in both of you, finding solace in each other’s hearts and bodies. Trusting each other with stories of your dark pasts, pacts to never lie, promises to love each other for ever. And ever. And ever. And ever.

Your love. Your light…your life.

“I will love you for my lifetime,” Astarion had promised one night, his voice barely above a whisper. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear gently, “You have brought me a happiness I had never thought possible. My whole life I have lived in fear…only after meeting you have I finally begun to know joy.”

Eventually, you had made your way to Cazador’s palace – the plan in place to stop the ritual, kill him, and set free the rest of the spawn. Astarion came face to face with his past, and confronted his actions and decisions head on, ready to settle the score and start anew. It was unlike anything you had ever seen before – Astarion stabbing Cazador so many times it seemed like there wasn’t any blood left. His body covered, as his heaving sobs wracked his body so hard he shook, his cries echoing through the dark hall. Tears in all of your eyes – Karlach and Gale holding you back to give Astarion his time to mourn the past 200 years. All he needed to do was free the spawn, to give them another chance at life, and you could leave, Astarion leaving behind the trauma and hurt.

But something happened. Something went wrong.

Before you knew it, the ritual was completed. The cries from the bodies of the dying spawn had infiltrated your ears before you could figure out what was happening – Astarion had finished the ritual, ascending. Never to fear again, only to be feared. Tears fell openly from your eyes, screams from your throat, fear in your heart. Why Astarion did it, you would never know.

All you knew was that the future that both of you had longed for was gone, never to be seen again.

You tried your hardest to stay with Astarion, to be by his side like you promised. But when you tried to discuss his newfound love of evil, he turned on you – he didn’t want a partner, he wanted a slave. A pet in a way…someone to follow exactly what he wanted to do, and say. His offer of turning you into his spawn made you sick – the words he spat at you when you told him “no” forever ingrained in you forever.

“I can’t believe I thought you were worthy of a life with me,” He said, his dark eyes shining, “When this little journey to finish the Elder Brain is done, so are we. I never want to see you again – the very sight of you makes me sick.”

Your whole life turned to tragedy in the blink of an eye, and you were so depressed, you didn’t even truly feel there. In fact, you and Astarion never spoke another word to another the rest of the time around each other, which only worsened the blow of your depression.

Numb the rest of the journey, you tearfully finished your task, saving Baldur’s Gate and more. The months you had travelled together, you had envisioned a giant sendoff together when you were done – food, drinks, dancing, music…to celebrate your victory and time together. One last party before you parted ways.

Instead, you silently slipped off into the night, never saying goodbye to any of your companions. Thinking it would be the easiest move for your shattered heart, you decided to push that time in your life aside, even though it was the most important time in your life.

A shell of your former self, constantly thinking about Astarion. About the Astarion that once was. Life returned back to “normal” – back to working in Baldur’s Gate, pubs with friends, research on magic in your library. Trying to enjoy the life you had desperately wanted to return back to when you were first infected, only to miss the life you had cultivated while in the midst of battle.

Trying to return back to him.

Even though he no longer existed.

The moon shone high in the night, a starless sky. You were leaving the inn; a party for a friend’s birthday. You were the last one to leave, helping them close down the bar. Even though you didn’t have much to drink, you tried to stay around for as long as possible, desperate to not be home alone.

The pub was in an off street of the main road, and its location combined with the late time of night made for a quiet walk home. You’d be back in a half hour or so…you tried to enjoy the warm evening air, reminding yourself of the beauty surrounding you.

The moon is beautiful, You thought, trying to look for happiness in the small things, The air smells nice. The warmth feels good.

Your footsteps echoed in the night, your arms wrapped around yourself like protection. You tried to not think too hard about feelings often – even after two years, your thoughts would always wander back to Astarion, given the chance. As if you had no choice in the matter.

Suddenly, a rustling. You stopped walking, trying to get a better idea of the sound. You narrowed your eyes, your heart immediately racing. You didn’t dare move, but instead swiveled your head so you could stay put.

Nothing. Silence.

You had just began walking when you heard the voice.

“I never thought I would see you again.” He said.

You stopped in your tracks, your body turning to ice. Slowly, you turned towards the voice, your heart racing so hard you could feel the blood pumping in your head. Your fingertips buzzed with adrenaline, and your throat immediately became dry. You instantly met his gaze.

Astarion.

Standing in the shadows of the back alleyway you were walking down, he took a step forward. In an outfit adorned in shining black metal, intricate weavings fit for a king. His trademark smirk was nowhere to be found, only his dark, ruby eyes.

He looked absolutely breathtaking.

“You said you didn’t want to.” You finally were able to manage, your voice more of a whimper. Your worst fear coming true – you knew that Astarion had resided in the same city as you, but you didn’t think you would ever come face to face with him again. The city was big, he was a vampire lord…so many variables.

He chuckled – one quick sound. “I can’t believe you remember what I said.” He took a step forward, causing a shiver to run down your spine. You could feel the frown on your lips.

“I’ll never forget it.”

Astarion paused to look at you, his expression unreadable. Finally, he took another step closer to you and spoke again, “I smelled you…a bit ago. At first, I thought I was going crazy – I thought it couldn’t be. But I decided to investigate and…here you are. After all this time.”

You were not afraid. You knew he would do nothing to you – your fear of seeing him again was not rooted in fear of your life. It was rooted in fear of your heart – how long would it take you to numb yourself again, now that he was standing in front of you again? Weeks…months…years? You had barely begun to feel normal again.

“I hope you are faring well after our adventure,” He spoke again, his voice far away. He was close to you now, a foot or so away. “I’m assuming you are living here now.” He spoke as if we were old colleagues, not former lovers. Not as two people who thought they were destined for one another.

You nodded, “I’ve came back home. After we were done.”

“You didn’t say goodbye.”

“I couldn’t.” Your voice began to catch in your throat. Astarion noticed, nodding. Giving you space to feel for a moment. After a minute or so, it seemed he was done – he turned to walk away.

Just like that.

“Do you regret it?” You called after him, causing him to stop. He didn’t turn around, but merely stared straight ahead. Your tears threatened to fall as you spoke, “Ascending. Do you regret turning into this?”

Astarion stayed so still you had thought time stood still. Crickets chirped around you, and you could hear the blood pulsing in your body the silence was so heavy. Eventually he turned slowly, taking a few quick steps to you, a smirk on his lips.

“Regret it? Regret it! Regret being one of the most powerful vampires, of never living in fear? Of having every desire, every want, every need met?” His eyes darted between yours, “Of having any body I want, whenever I want?” A blow to your heart – Astarion had added it to hurt you, of that you were sure. “No, darling, I don’t regret it at all. I savor it.”

You nodded, unable to say anything. His smile was a slap in your face – the Astarion you had once loved was completely gone, washed away with everything you had known about him. Instead, standing in front of you was someone you didn’t even know. In that moment, you realized something: ever since he had ascended, you were grieving the death of him. And grief, you knew, never went away, which is why it was so hard for you to think about. The death of who Astarion used to be never left you.

“I loved you,” You said. You shook your head slowly and smiled, embarrassed you were even discussing it. “I loved you more than I had loved anyone ever in my entire life. I will never love someone the way I loved you. I loved you so wholly and completely and fiercely, I-” Your voice broke, the tears steadily streaming down your face now, “I wasn’t sure of anything – if we would survive the journey. If we would defeat the Elder Brain. I wasn’t even sure of who I was half of the time…but there was one thing I was sure of: I was sure that if you were by my side, I would always have the courage to try. I’d have the courage to keep going.” You had to stop yourself, the tears turning into sobs. Your voice trailed off as you wiped the wetness from your face.

Astarion’s face was a snarl, almost disgusted with what you said. He took a small step back, as if he was unable to deal with your emotion.

“Why did you do it?” You asked through your sobs, your voice almost a scream, “How could you finish that ritual? How could you ascend? After everything we talked about, everything we promised each other…you became the very person you hated!”

“You have no idea!” Astarion shouted, his face suddenly centimeters from your face. You felt his hot breath on your cheeks, his voice causing you to jump, “You have no idea what I had been through in my life. That ritual? The ascension gave me freedom! I have become exactly who I was destined to be,” He laughed, extending his arms, “I am exactly who I want to be. I was not meant for a soft life – for a life of love or domesticity, or stillness. I was meant for more.” He started to pace, seemingly overwhelmed, his voice never lowering below a shout, “And you could have lived that life with me! You could’ve had everything you ever wanted…a castle. Jewels. Servants. The finest garments…we could have made love every night until the sun rose. I would have had you screaming my name so regularly, it would become commonplace.” He stopped his pacing and was close to your face again. He was red with anger, his voice finally lowering to a murmur, “But you were weak. You were…pathetic. Saying no was the biggest mistake of your life.” He was breathing hard, his shoulders moving up and down so harshly they seemed to move on strings.

The silence between you was so loud that your ears rang. You took a deep breath in, trying to steady yourself. “That isn’t love, Astarion. I wanted nothing but you. I didn’t need a castle, or servants…I just wanted you. The you that was before.” You took a step back, overwhelmed. You were so overcome with emotion that you felt like you were going to faint. Finally, you decided you needed to leave. Taking one last look into his eyes, you spoke again, “I’m sorry you felt you weren’t worthy of a life of love.”

Without waiting for a response, and hoping you would never see him again, you turned to walk away. You had only made it a few steps before Astarion spoke again.

“You were a gift, you know,” He said, so softly, that if you weren’t listening, you wouldn’t had heard him. You stopped, but didn’t turn. “You are someone who deserves a life so full of love, that every day you are reminded of how much. I…” He sighed. “I am not a someone who could have given that to you.”

Stifling a sob, you finally turned. You looked at Astarion, and for a moment, you saw a flash of the old Astarion, before the ascension. He looked at you, and for the first time in gods knows how long, he looked unsure of himself. His expression reminded you of the first time he had told you that he loved you.

“I’ve never done this before, but…” Nervously, Astarion took your hands, looking into your eyes, “But I love you. At least…I think I do. I’m not quite sure that I know what love is, really, but darling what you make me feel? Is unlike anyone has ever made me feel…and it’s a good feeling. And incredible, perfect feeling, actually. And I promise every day to try and make you feel the same…to remind you how much I love you.”

You smiled softly, sadly, unable to do much else. Fully facing him, you stood tall. “Astarion…I hope the life you chose fulfills you…I hope it’s worth it.”

Astarion looked at you for a minute more, and for a moment, you thought he would smile. That he would smile, and rush to you, and kiss you – that somehow this was all a spell that needed to be broken. That this could’ve been the beginning of the rest of your lives together…the life that you both had spent nights fantasizing together.

But he nodded curtly, and left, his footsteps silent in the night.

The feeling of sadness crushed you, sending you to your knees. You let your sobs echo into the night, releasing everything you had left. You could only hope that this could act as some sort of closure, that the grief you’d feel wouldn’t ruin you.

That it was a way to move forward, not backwards.

No, it’s for the better,

I know it’s for the better.

---

As always, comments, reblogs, likes mean a lot (especially comments and reblogs!) brb gonna go cry now bye.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Lovelies, y'all voted which of my OC Links you wanted to hug most, and Shadow won, so guess what, Shadow gets a nice writing snippet :)

(Oh boy guys, I had such a good time writing this, partly because of the soundtrack I listened to. It was "Descent into Gloom's Lair" for the first half and then "Phase 5 Construct Factory")

This had to be it. He could sense the warmth of the magic, could hear the sword’s humming voice, could almost understand its whispers.

Link crept further into the canyon crevice, hands almost burning as they brushed against gloom. That never used to hurt. It was always cold.

He felt nearly giddy at the sensation. He reached his hand forward to grab it, one final piece, one last sliver of hope to add to his prayers and efforts. His finger snagged the sharp end, making it bleed, but the steel glowed blue regardless.

Sacred blue from a sacred sword. Link knew nothing of this blade, only that it contained light magic. Just as the dagger he’d used all that time ago had.

Please be enough. Please be enough.

Link felt his entire body trembling in anticipation and anxiety. If he tried this and it failed, it would give his entire plan away. But he’d never felt so certain, had never heard the sword’s magic so clearly. He’d scoured the entirety of the Depths, and this was the last shred of light he could find.

The pieces all fit together. The only thing that was missing was the base of the sword and its hilt. How such a blade could be so long—it was practically a claymore, but it held such little weight to it. Yet it held so much power. It felt… it felt familiar, it felt comforting.

He saw it sometimes, in his dreams. A blade shattered under Ganondorf’s power, only to be built anew in golden light. But there was no golden light here. Only the cool steely blue. Yet it was warmer than the sun, and he felt it seep into his skin, into his muscles and bone, snipping away at the cold tendrils that dug into him like needles.

Slowly, Link pulled off the bandages around his forehead.

This was it. This was his last prayer, his final attempt. He closed his eyes, feeling the icy cold vice grip Ganondorf had on him, centered in the malicious mark on his forehead. The sacred blade hummed in anticipation, nearly a growl, baring its metaphorical teeth. Its pieces slid together as he placed them on the floor, making him gasp a little. Thin, purple light, nearly like sacred thread, held the pieces together as they reverberated in unison.

He felt pain twinge in his forehead, and he sensed Ganondorf’s dark magic nearby. He’d been out of the demon king’s sight for too long. He could tell the man was growing nervous, worried. He was running out of time.

Fear pulled at him all of a sudden, sharp and horrifying and paralyzing. What if it wasn’t enough? What if it wasn’t enough?

Link took a trembling breath, pulling out a katana Ganondorf had gifted him. Then he pulled out a war hammer that he’d been gifted by one of the fallen soldiers.

It was now or never.

He brought the hammer down fiercely, channeling all his fear into it, turning it to something productive. With each clang he felt his heart rate grow ever faster. Holding the katana steady took all of his determination, and each blow reverberated up his shoulder. It felt like two different parts of him at war, one side ferociously fighting to be released while the other clung to its prison, petrified.

What if this isn’t enough? He’ll never let me go after this; he’ll use his power to control me forever!

But what if it was enough? If he hesitated, he’d never get this chance again, and the end result would be the same.

But we have a status quo. This is working.

But it wouldn’t last!

Clang!

The katana shook under his grip.

Clang!

The gloom spawn was getting closer.

I just want him back. I just want him back!

He was never getting the Ganondorf he knew back.

Clang!

He was sweating now. Tears mixed with the sweat, a sweet and salty flavor in his mouth.

Clang!

Clang!

The katana snapped, its blade giving way, its hilt remaining intact. He stared at it a moment, his breath caught in his chest, his body frozen. The sacred blade hummed louder. He could hear the shrill, shuddering sounds of the gloom spawn nearby.

Slowly, Link knelt on the ground, reaching for the blade. As he drew it closer to the hilt of the katana, the same strange, effervescent purple thread seemed to lock it into place with the hilt. Link stared at it a moment in wonder and awe, and it bolstered his resolve and hope.

This… this might actually work.

It would. It had to.

His forehead was beginning to hurt more and more. Icy cold darkness pulled at it. The blade’s sounds pulsed closer together, seeming nearly frantic.

Link turned the blade towards himself, hesitating a moment, breathing shakily, feeling the world around him stop.

If this was his last moment… then so be it.

He thrust it quickly, sharply, with every ounce of strength he had, aiming for his forehead.

His world exploded into agony. Time seemed to slow as he screamed, as white-hot energy ripped through his entire being, unraveling him. Images ran through his mind, memories scrambling around as if he were living his last moments.

Ganondorf’s face, stricken with horror as he laid in his arms dying. His own pain, heart breaking, body screaming from the wound.

Hemisi’s smile as they danced at a party in the castlte. His body retching as he tossed her ashes into the flames.

Coldness claiming him in eternal slumber as he fell down the stairs. Coldness dragging him back as Ganondorf ripped him from its embrace.

Nabooru holding him and Hemisi when they went to war. Nabooru’s scream as he was tossed down the stairs after stabbing Ganondorf.

Goddess, make it stop! It wasn’t as if he hadn’t experienced death before, why was this so utterly painful?!

He registered that his screaming had stopped, that he was suddenly laying on his side, that the world was spinning but most certainly in the present once more. Warm liquid lazily slipped down his forehead, pooling at his temple. He gasped, sitting upright as adrenaline slammed into him, as he heard the gloom spawn, as he saw it rapidly approaching.

Run, RUN!

Link’s body came to life, and he ran as hard and fast as possibly could. He didn’t dare look back, dead set on finding someplace that the spawn couldn’t reach. He knew this region fairly well by now, looking to his right and leaping on to the cliffside, hastily pulling himself upward. The gloom hands reached, but their claws could barely ghost against his ankles, leaving him breathless but somewhat relieved. He climbed higher and higher, feeling his body tremble and ache and protest considering everything that had just happened, but he finally made it to the top.

Collapsing, Link panted for air, completely and utterly drained. He felt like he’d been carrying a heavy load for his entire life and it had finally been lifted. He didn’t even know how to describe how he felt. The sacred blade was warm beside him, tucked into his belt, and he settled his hand on it like a lifeline.

It had worked. It had worked!

He laughed. He laughed until he was breathless, he cried.

But he knew he couldn’t stay here long. Ganondorf knew where he was now, and he knew he couldn’t control him.

It was a hunt now.

Link took a few more seconds to catch his breath before sitting up once more. He couldn’t see the bottom of the cliff with as dark as it was, but he could still catch wisps of dark magic, could hear the gloom spawn hissing in protest, remaining in its place so Ganondorf could track it.

He spat off the edge of the cliff, a sneer pulling at his lips, and made his way farther uphill. He knew there was an abandoned mine up ahead, and he knew there were Yiga there. But the Yiga were essentially harmless to him; he’d beaten up enough of them prior to escaping Ganondorf’s shackles to know that much.

Rushing ahead, Link noticed there were brighter splotches in new areas. More lightroots, probably. He blinked against it, trying to adjust to the change, when something caught his eye and made him stop dead in his tracks.

Was that… was that a…

Link stared.

That was a dragon.

A dragon floated in front of him, glowing beautifully blue, a chill steadily spreading through the air as it growled, its rumbling voice vibrating through Link’s chest.

How—he’d never—what—

It was beautiful.

But—but—

What was a dragon even doing down here?! They didn’t dwell in the Depths, they—

It had to have gotten here somehow.

Hope burned in his chest, along with excitement and indescribable joy. He knew how to get out of here.

Link charged ahead, leaping off the cliff, and landed directly on the mythical creature.

His hands and feet screamed at the icy contact, entire body immediately racking with shivers, but he clung to the crystalline spines on its blessed back regardless, laughing as he his teeth chattered. His muscles were so exhausted from everything that he nearly stopped shivering after a few minutes, watching his fingers and toes turn purplish blue.

He didn’t care.

The Depths looked so different from up here. He could make out the plant life, see scattered ruins. It almost looked like how it used to, when it had been far more alive and protected by lightroots.

Link gasped a little as his entire body shook with a shudder in response to the cold, and he nearly lost his grip on the creature’s spine. He couldn’t feel his feet anymore.

Come on, sacred sister… please… get me out of here.

The icy creature roared again, her entire body reverberating the sound. Her back started to arch, and Link nearly lost his footing as his world tipped. He reached for any kind of purchase, hanging off the dragon’s spiny icelike crystals, praying he could still hold on.

But she was tipping upward. That had to mean—that had to mean—

They were getting out of here. She was getting him out of here.

Link climbed as best he could to stand atop the scale, nearly falling before catching himself. And he saw light. He saw the sky.

Link’s face, freezing as it was, thawed a moment as tears spilled over his cheeks. Snowflakes suddenly appeared, getting caught in his hair and his lashes, and a sharp wind tore through him as sunlight blasted through, reflecting off snow covered fields. There were trees everywhere, decorated in the sparkling splendor of winter’s kiss, and Link gasped as the dragon started to straighten out. He could no longer feel his hands, couldn’t grip anything, and he fell.

He fell, the air screaming all around him, crashing through layer after layer of freedom as the chasm grew ever closer.

It felt like a nightmare, like the chasm was the maw of a demonic dragon, like Ganondorf was reaching up from hell just to drag him back down.

Link felt panic squeeze him as if a gloom hand had already gotten a hold of him, but he flipped his body around to try and redirect the wind and his course so he could at least land in the snow. He’d rather die than go back down there.

He was probably going to die either way once he hit the ground. But at least this way he’d die on the surface, buried in snow, never to be found by that man again.

He couldn’t… Ganondorf couldn’t bring him back again, could he?

There was no way he’d gotten this far just to—

Something sounded in the air, strange, different from the wind, whistling but in a sharp, repeated pattern. Link looked around wildly, in a panic, wondering if somehow the demon king had caught up to him, when something slammed into him.

“Hold on to me!” he heard, and his heart nearly stopped from the absolute shock of it. He turned as best he could, trying to see who in the world this even was, wrapping his arms around the person as the air below them suddenly pushed them upward sharply. It slowed his momentum instantly, but far too much for his tired and frozen arms to handle, and he quickly slipped out from under the person. He gasped, too tired to fight it or move, and he saw the figure above him let go of whatever parasailing device they had, diving towards him and grabbing him, twisting both of them so he was on top of the other when they hit the snow.

The impact was still hard, but not nearly as horrible as it could have been without that significant slowing. Link gasped for air nonetheless, stretched far beyond what his body could handle, numb and so cold it froze his bones.

He vaguely felt the person underneath him moving, and he opened his eyes as best he could, glancing down. Blue eyes looked back at him, framed in a somehow strangely familiar face.

“I’ve never seen anyone else ride a dragon,” the young man commented, expression perplexed. “Who—”

The man cut himself off, recognition shining in his eyes, in the way his brow shot upward, in the way his mouth opened even more with a small gasp.

And then it hit Link.

This… this was Rauru’s knight.

[o-craven-canto]

  Evolution Langdon Smith (1858-1908)

When you were a tadpole and I was a fish   In the Paleozoic time, And side by side on the ebbing tide   We sprawled through the ooze and slime, Or skittered with many a caudal flip   Through the depths of the Cambrian fen, My heart was rife with the joy of life,   For I loved you even then. Mindless we lived and mindless we loved   And mindless at last we died; And deep in the rift of the Caradoc drift   We slumbered side by side. The world turned on in the lathe of time,   The hot lands heaved amain, Till we caught our breath from the womb of death   And crept into life again. We were amphibians, scaled and tailed,   And drab as a dead man's hand; We coiled at ease 'neath the dripping trees   Or trailed through the mud and sand. Croaking and blind, with our three-clawed feet   Writing a language dumb, With never a spark in the empty dark   To hint at a life to come. Yet happy we lived and happy we loved,   And happy we died once more; Our forms were rolled in the clinging mold   Of a Neocomian shore. The eons came and the eons fled   And the sleep that wrapped us fast Was riven away in a newer day   And the night of death was passed. Then light and swift through the jungle trees   We swung in our airy flights, Or breathed in the balms of the fronded palms   In the hush of the moonless nights; And oh! what beautiful years were there   When our hearts clung each to each; When life was filled and our senses thrilled   In the first faint dawn of speech. Thus life by life and love by love   We passed through the cycles strange, And breath by breath and death by death   We followed the chain of change. Till there came a time in the law of life   When over the nursing sod The shadows broke and the soul awoke   In a strange, dim dream of God. I was thewed like an Auroch bull   And tusked like the great cave bear; And you, my sweet, from head to feet   Were gowned in your glorious hair. Deep in the gloom of a fireless cave,   When the night fell o'er the plain And the moon hung red o'er the river bed   We mumbled the bones of the slain. I flaked a flint to a cutting edge   And shaped it with brutish craft; I broke a shank from the woodland lank   And fitted it, head and haft; Than I hid me close to the reedy tarn,   Where the mammoth came to drink; Through the brawn and bone I drove the stone   And slew him upon the brink. Loud I howled through the moonlit wastes,   Loud answered our kith and kin; From west to east to the crimson feast   The clan came tramping in. O'er joint and gristle and padded hoof   We fought and clawed and tore, And cheek by jowl with many a growl   We talked the marvel o'er. I carved that fight on a reindeer bone   With rude and hairy hand; I pictured his fall on the cavern wall   That men might understand. For we lived by blood and the right of might   Ere human laws were drawn, And the age of sin did not begin   Til our brutal tusks were gone. And that was a million years ago   In a time that no man knows; Yet here tonight in the mellow light   We sit at Delmonico's. Your eyes are deep as the Devon springs,   Your hair is dark as jet, Your years are few, your life is new,   Your soul untried, and yet -- Our trail is on the Kimmeridge clay   And the scarp of the Purbeck flags; We have left our bones in the Bagshot stones   And deep in the Coralline crags; Our love is old, our lives are old,   And death shall come amain; Should it come today, what man may say   We shall not live again? God wrought our souls from the Tremadoc beds   And furnish’d them wings to fly; He sowed our spawn in the world's dim dawn,   And I know that it shall not die, Though cities have sprung above the graves   Where the crook-bone men made war And the ox-wain creaks o'er the buried caves   Where the mummied mammoths are. Then as we linger at luncheon here   O'er many a dainty dish, Let us drink anew to the time when you   Were a tadpole and I was a fish.

[elemit]

A Gift, A Curse

A story in which we discover just how damned an ascended vampire can be, and just how far you will go to save the spawn you loved.

Read in full on AO3

dead dove/not beta read

fic warnings: Abuse, Angst, Biting, Blood and Gore, Blood Drinking, Bondage, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Food Restriction, Hate Sex, Horror, Mental Coercion, Mind Control, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sexual Coercion, Torture, Total Power Exchange, Trauma, Vampire Bites

Chapter 25: Shadows

You have become a shadow in your own home.

You exist. For now, that has to be enough. You know that the days are slipping by from the passing glow and fade of sun around the edges of the heavy red curtains on the windows. When wine doesn’t offer enough escape, you find yourself turning to the endless shelves of books in the house. You used to be the type who favoured blades over books, but now the pages that you lose yourself in are worth more to you than any weapon. They are a shield against the darkness that surrounds you, and gods know you could use the protection.

You still hate being alone. Astarion is gone more days than he is here. You can’t help but wonder how much the incident with the Fist has disrupted his plans for the council. If he’s worried, he never shows it. And if the stacks of correspondences that arrive for him daily are anything to go by, there are still plenty of people out there who want to remain in his good books.

 Even when Astarion is around, he sometimes tires of your constant company, commanding you to wait in mindless silence in your bedchamber until he wishes to see you again. To avoid this fate, you begin to follow him less, although it pains you to do so.

You know you should stay away from the west wing, that den of Flaming Fist and New Watch, lest the sunlight burns you, or some other Fist discovers your secret, but you find yourself drawn to it like a moth to a flame. The bustling noises, and the energetic buzz of people hard at work, are proof of a world that is still thriving beyond the stone walls of your living tomb.

So you have taken to venturing into this hive of activity, keeping to the places that the sun cannot reach even with the curtains thrown back and the windows flung open. You haunt the alcoves and the inner corridors, stepping lightly from one shaded spot to the next. You only go directly after you have drunk, so you need not fear your hunger getting the better of you. When you find a place in the half-gloom, obscured from the view of the flurry of living beings around you, you sit, read, and absorb the tumult with a feeling close to joy.

You never try to speak to anyone. You do not crave communication. Besides, it would be useless, tongue-bound as you are. You only wish to know that you are not entirely alone.

You are sat like this, in a dark alcove, reading, lost in an imaginary world, when a voice interrupts you.

“A good one, is it?”

The voice is so painfully cheerful it makes you wince. You look up into the youthful face of a human man - a boy, really - wearing the uniform of a Flaming Fist. He grins at you.

“The book, I mean. It’s a good one?”

You stare at him, frozen. When was the last time someone spoke to you with good will? Someone new? Someone free?

“Never been much one for reading, me,” he continues. “My sister loves it, though. Reckon she’s read more books in t’ past year than most read in a lifetime.”

He seems to have finally noticed your utter lack of response. His grin stays in place, but his brow furrows slightly as if he’s just remembered himself.

“I’m Lucas, by the way. What’s your name?”

You purse your lips in something that isn’t quite a smile and give a small shrug.

“Cat got your tongue, eh? Ah, well. Worse parts of you to lose. I should know.” He reaches down, beaming, and knocks on his left shin, which emits a hollow clunk. You raise your eyebrows at his enthusiasm. He seems to take it as encouragement.

“Great, ent it? I told everyone at the Mermaid that I lost it in t’ Battle of Baldur’s Gate and now I get free drinks all the time.” Then he continues in a lower voice, “Don’t tell anyone, but I actually lost it on the journey here. Horse bloody fell on me. Total nightmare. Still, got to look on the bright side, don’t you?”

You blink incredulously. Somehow, he is still talking.

“Anyway, best get back, supposed to be on duty. Get lost in this bloody house all the damn time. Good to meet you, o’ silent lady of the books.”

He crumples into an inelegant bow, then lopes off down the corridor. You are left entirely too bewildered to get back into your book.

[robertfripp]

"In August, after finishing work on Earthbound, Fripp returned to the producer's chair last time [in 1972] to work with Matching Mole at CBS' London studios in Whitfield Street."

"Brian Eno, then still in Roxy Music was invited by [Matching Mole bassist] MacCormick to add VCS3 synthesiser. "We'd played a gig with Roxy in Liverpool where they'd supported us so I had met Brian Eno and we got on, and so I thought it might be interesting to see what Brian might come up with. I told him what we were looking for, he came into Studio 2, did a few things which Fripp loved and it seemed to work.""

"Importantly, the album spawned a significant new friendship between Fripp and Eno. Although they had previously met at the EG offices, the album put them together in a working context for the first time. Just ten days after Eno completed his overdubs on Gloria Gloom, Fripp entered the living room of Eno's Maida Vale flat and plugged his Les Paul into Eno's Revox tape machine to record layers of inspired rhapsodic guitar that would later become the first side of Fripp and Eno's groundbreaking No Pussyfooting."

~ From In the Court of King Crimson by Sid Smith

[dreadfutures]

Fics for Blue

I’ve been honored to receive so many gift works since joining the Dragon Age fandom. Some are from Exchanges (more about Dragon Age Fanwork Exchanges), some are from discord community server events, some have just spawned out of shared headcanons gone wild, like the Mirrorverse.

In general, feel free to make fanart, podfics, and derivative works of my fics, art, and characters, as long as a heads-up & credit is given. I always appreciate the creativity of this community. See my full use statement here.

Banner credit.

In addition to reading the fics I've been gifted, please check out the rest of the writers' works - they are all so talented!

General Gifts

Dawn in Antiva - [delawana | @the-rebel-archivist]. Oneshot.

Rating: T. (Andarateia Cantori/Viago de Riva) | In the wake of the Qunari occupation of Treviso, Viago de Riva is disgruntled that Antiva carried on with its festivals. Andarateia Cantori gives him a new perspective on another way to fight their enemies.

I love the descriptions of the setting, how it perfectly fit the vibes of the moodboard that inspired it, and the push and pull of Viago's inner gloom and the light that Teia brings.

A Snowflake Distinct Among Snowflakes - [Missjlh]. Multichap. Complete.

Rating: T. (Solas & Dorian Pavus) | Solas is a mystery to Dorian and he finds himself looking for the man's approval. In a bid to get to know him better, Dorian offers to share his research notes, but in the end, it's Solas' advice regarding how to free the slaves of Tevinter that leaves its mark, even years later, after the truth of who Solas is has come to light.

I love, love, love the progression of Dorian and Solas' interactions. A gift from @arlathanxchange 2024 that tracks Solas & Dorian from the Inquisition to what happens after.

Strawberries and Lace - [@enigmalae]

Rating: T. (Solas/Lace Harding) | A chance encounter in skyhold leads to the start of something more.

Dancing, flirting, and a first kiss. A gift from @arlathanxchange 2024.

Provenance - [@kiastirling-fanfic]

Rating: G. (Solas & Dorian Pavus) | “Do you always throw misbehaving tomes on the heads of unassuming passerby?” Dorian's disregard for the Inquisition's questionable literature leads to a discussion with the resident apostate.

A gift from @arlathanxchange 2024. When I see "magical academia" my heart sings - and the bickering truly lives up to it.

Impeccable Timing - [@RosellaWrites]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: G. (Solas/Josephine Montilyet) | Josephine Montilyet intimately understands the Game, even under such circumstances found at the Winter Palace. What surprises her, however, is that an elven mage navigates it just as surely as she.

I love the inside peek into Josie's mind, the hints at being a little too attentive to Solas while remaining unflappable just as she always is. A gift from @arlathanxchange 2024.

Power lies with thos who grasp it - [Toshi_Nama]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: M. (Briala & Skinner)

From my prompt: maybe Skinner is secretly one of Briala’s own agents, even while she is a member of Bull’s Chargers. Or maybe Skinner thinks Briala’s a poser. Maybe both. I think there’s interesting potential for conflict, contrast, or highlighting–Skinner could be a way to push Briala to change in certain ways, or to prove herself, or encourage her to continue on as she has. Maybe they have some secret history. A gift from @arlathanxchange 2023.

the world would crmble to dust before you ran out of ills to fight - [@RosellaWrites]. _Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: G. (Solas/Lace Harding) | Scout Lace Harding retraces Solas's footsteps alongside Varric in a race to stop him… or change his mind. Lace remembers her time with the so-called apostate along the way.

A gift from @arlathanxchange 2023.

The Firefall - [Dragon_Sage]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: M. (Solas/F!Lavellan). Post-Trespasser. | Solas is camped in the ruins of Mythal's most cherished palace, plagued by Regret and guilt around the circumstances of her murder. He would leave, but he desperately requires what he suspects his old friend may have hidden there. Unfortunately, the final obstacle in his path is a door that only one person in Thedas can open: Ellana Lavellan.

This is a beautiful and cinematic adventure fic with a bittersweet twist! Just my kind of gift. I would love for everyone to read it and join me in imagining this beautiful, mysterious palace that Dragon Sage created as a backdrop!

Shadows in the Glass - [@silvanils | KnightDawn] Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: T. (Marquis of Serault & Marquise of Serault) | “The eyes were all wrong. I should know. I see the right ones every morning.”Something strange is happening in Serault. What else is new?

A mirrorverse of sorts for the Marquis(e) of Serault! Several heroes from different universes reach out to each other in dreamlike, beautiful quality.

Comrades in Arms, Brothers in Broken Chains - [@rosella-writes]. PODFIC.

Rosella BEAUTIFULLY read a piece I wrote out loud as a podfic!

The Seven Halla - [Ciella]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: T. (Solas/F!Lavellan) | A Dragon Age version of the German fairy tale, The Six Swans.

A perfect gift from the @solavellanhellexchange

Homecoming - [@queenaeducan-writes]. Two chapters. Complete.

Rating: T. (Genfic) | Charter and Harding know that Fen'Harel seeks something in the vaults of a Tevinter Magister. It's a race to gain access to this mysterious artifact, and to keep it out of enemy hands. Until it isn't.

This fic--an adventure, an intrigue, a world-building exploration, an action piece, and so much more--grabbed me by the heart and didn't let go. Gift from the @arlathanxchange

Bright Days of Halcyon - [@darethshirl]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: G. (Solas & Keeper Hawen) | Solas joins Hawen’s clan for a slice of life and celebration. He finds traces of the familiar, fragments of the past, and welcome.

This fic actually drove me to tears, it was nostalgic, poignant, and touching. It is both full of joy and full of tragedy. Gift from the @arlathanxchange.

oily marks appear on walls (where pleasure moments hung before) - [@rosella-writes] Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: M. (Solas/Felassan) | As an Evanuris, Solas has no vallaslin. He would lay claim to no one. Not even the man he loves.

Just an absolutely gorgeous piece highlighting a tension between Solas and Felassan, yet another problem entirely of Solas's own making. Gift from the @arlathanxchange.

What Pride Had Wrought - [@rosella-writes ]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: G. (Solas & Mythal) | Mythal through the ages, with Pride at her side.

Gift fic from the Beyond The Veil Discord Server’s Masked Satinalia holiday exchange!

Pride’s Hope - [@rosella-writes]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: G. (Solas/Felassan) | Solas may have always been Pride, but Felassan was not always Felassan. Once he chafed under the mantle of another name.

Rosella wrote a deliciously angsty Solas (Pride)/Felassan (Hope) fic <3

grab hold of the earth’s four corners - [@rosella-writes]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: E. (Female Lavellan/Krem) | The Chargers survived their Venatori encounter at the Storm Coast. Virelan and Krem celebrate together behind the Herald's Rest.

Gift from Rosella furthering the Lavellan/Krem agenda!

Gifts about Ixchel Lavellan

Lead Her Through the Darkness - [BECandCall | @warpedlegacy]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: T. (Solo: Female Lavellan) | This is THE story of how Ixchel found her name. BECandCall aka DuchessofSwoll wrote this gift for me during the Dragon Age Fanfiction discord server’s OC swap month.

The Day the Dread Wolf Wed the Brave Guide - [exalted_dawn | @exalted-dawn-drabbles] Ongoing.

Rating: T. (Female Lavellan/Solas, Female Lavellan & Dalish OCs) | My beautiful friend and dear Beta, Ed, decided to write how her Dalish OC Talenna convinced and orchestrated Ixchel to do a bonding ceremony with Solas, at the Arlathvhen, after Corypheus’s defeat. It’s beautiful and I adore it.

Finding Hope in Ruins - [BlueWren]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: G. (Female Lavellan/Solas) | A gift from the 2022 April OC Swap for the DAFF Discord Server, where Solas and Ixchel talk about hope together.

The Inexorable Tide - [kittynomsdeplume]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: T. (Dirthame/Female Lavellan) | Ixchel appeared in Elvhenan in an explosion that leveled Falon’Din’s temple. Dirthamen takes her in, for she wears his vallaslin, and slowly teaches her the Elvhen language…and they fall in love.

A BEAUTIFUL GIFT from the 2021 Beyond The Veil Discord Server Satinalia Exchange

Champion- [Fenrevas | @rakshadow]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: G. (Female Lavellan & Female Hawke) | Rak wrote this lovely interaction for a Discord server event <3 A Boxing Club au where Ash Hawke meets Ixchel Lavellan, her new boxing instructor.

Alas’nira - [thebrain_urchin | @dalishkadan]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: E (Female Lavellan/Solas) The Dalish warn their children to watch out, lest the Dread Wolf catch them. They never speak on what it would be like for the Dread Wolf to be caught instead.

Fade-Touched - [ @rosella-writes]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: M. (Dirthamen/Female Lavellan) | Dirthamen learns from his Champion to set aside study. Dirthamen (yes that one) and Ixchel bang in a magical orchard with aphrodisiac peaches.

A gift from 2022's Beyond the Veil Discord server's Masked Satinalia.

Gifts about my other OCs.

to be seen feeling - [@inquisimer] Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: T. (Mahariel/Morrigan, Mahariel, Others. Genfic!) | Duty pulls Halevune from his fragile family and the home they’ve carved in the Crossroads. In which Mahariel navigates his relationship with Morrigan, fatherhood, and the politics of the Wardens and being an elven Teryn.

The Stories We Tell - [@about2dance]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: G. (Female Lavellan & Dalish Male OC). Terinelan Lavellan, the First of the Lavellan Clan, explores a ruin that the Inquisitor discovered. She has worried that she's not Dalish enough, so he tells her the story of how the Clan came to accept her.

A gift from the Dragon Age FanFic server's 2024 OC Swap.

Mari Enasal - [@RosellaWrites]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: G. (Kieran & Male Mahariel, Male Mahariel & Merrill). Halevune shares a spooky Dalish tale with his son. Kieran has heard this one so many times that it's no longer scary.

A gift from the Dragon Age FanFic server's 2023 holiday exchange.

The Mirrorverse.

The Dragon Age Fanfic Writers Discord Server anniversary (Aug 2021) generated a bunch of crossover-type gift fis and introduced the idea of a multiverse connected by eluvians. Thus, the Mirrorverse was born.

The Bar at the End of the Multiverse - [CrackingLamb]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: T | Multiple Inquisitor Lavellans wander through mysterious eluvians and find themselves at a bar for some bonding time.

The one that started it all!

i want to share your mouthful - [RosellaWrites]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: E. (Female Lavellan/Female Lavellan, past Female Lavellan/Solas) | Virelan Lavellan post-Trespasser struggles to let go of the weight of her responsibilities as Inquisitor and mother. Ixchel helps with sparring, bathing, and some sex.

to call for hands of above (to lean on) - [RosellaWrites]. Ongoing.

Rating: G. (Female Lavellan/Solas) | Virelan Lavellan and Solas have reunited, and now their son Tulin is coming of age. Tulin wants to take the vallaslin, knowing what it represents--but he wants Solas and Virelan to help in the ritual. Virelan doesn’t know how to ask Solas such a favor, and turns to Ixchel for some hope.

tell me if i drown - [Lalaen]. Oneshot.Complete.

Rating: M. (Male Lavellan & Female Lavellan) | Gethrael Lavellan, reeling after a horrific experience in Wicked Eyes, Wicked Hearts, goes to the Bar at the End of the Multiverse and runs into Ixchel.

The Brave Guide’s Friend - [@ExaltedDawn].

Rating: M. (Female Lavellan & Female Dalish OC) | When the Eluvian had appeared before her, Ixchel could have never suspected that it would lead to the loss of a friend. But when Talenna stumbled through the glass, bloodied and afraid and clutching two young children, Ixchel is forced to come to terms with the fact that she will yet again have to say goodbye to someone she loves. And in doing so, will finally repay a favor long owed.

to all who feel rain - [@inquisimer]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: G. (Female Lavellan/Female Lavellan). Neria and Ixchel share a warm drink and a moment of peace.

a butchered tongue still singing - [@RosellaWrites]. Oneshot. Complete.

Rating: T. (Male Mahariel/Morrigan, Female Mahariel/Zevran, Female Mahariel & Male Mahariel) | An eluvian connects Rhiannon Mahariel to the life of another like herself, who was also tainted by a cursed mirror.

[sheikfangirl]

Since you're the Queen of Puppet Zelda, what are your thoughts on these possible explanations for her level of autonomy?

Is Puppet Zelda merely made of Gloom and acts as a physical extension of Gannondorf himself so he has a set of eyes, ears, and hands that can travel and exert influence outside of his perch in the Depths, but as a higher quality puppet/projection (and therefore more taxing on his power to maintain) than the Gloom Hands and Phantom Gannons? Or is she a separate being entirely, created by him, but given her own agency, mind, and will to make her own decisions, in so far as she's still a slave to doing Gannondorf's bidding? She doesn't need constant effort on his part to control or exist, but would have probably cost him a chunk of his power upfront to create.

Could she be something else?

First, let's rectify one thing: I am NOT the Queen of Puppet Zelda. Puppet Zelda IS MY QUEEN. (But thanks for the compliment, I am blushing over here 🤭)

Secondly, thank you so much for your interest in my HC. I will happily share my thoughts on this criminally underused character that has drama written all over. This is an overview okay because I feel I could write a freakin thesis paper on Puppet Zelda 

Quick note: I am not pretending to be right or to have the absolute truth. This is my headcanon, the backstory in the back of my mind when I draw my Puppet Zelda art.

All headcanons are valid, games are interactive media, and the relationship and connections one has with a game are personal.

As you might know, English is not my first language and  visual support helps me explain things... so I made a graphic. I hope this will help understand my take of this character and why I love her so much🤣🤷‍♀️

In a nutshell:

I think Puppet Zelda is an independent minion created by Ganondorf using his magic powers. He created a shell in Zelda's image from 10 000 years ago to do his bidding and re-used her 10 000 years later to distract Link to buy himself the time to regenerate to full power.

Exhibit A: Ganondorf's Magic

If Ganondorf can spawn a whole list of monsters and gloom hands, he created Puppet Zelda too. The monsters are not continually controlled by Ganondorf, right? They do his bidding, they do what they were "programmed & designed" for, we might even say. I think it's the same for Puppet Zelda. But she is definitely a more defined and complex creation.

Exhibit B: The Hot henchwoman trope

I am not gonna lie: This is one of my very favorite tropes.... EVER! I always fall for the hot henchwomen. Ganon's quote from the glorious Sanctum scene during  the "Crisis at Hyrule Castle" scene makes me absolutely think she is indeed autonomous. "Did my puppet distract you?" Ganondorf asks Link in that chilling and subtext filled scene.

Puppet Zelda had one objective: To distract Link.

Ganon was busy regenerating. Having to control or act through someone would've been too power consuming. I don't buy it's a manifestation of him. AT ALL. so...yeah. hot henchwoman trope. Also, I'm a lesbian and I have no interest whatsoever in Ganondorf.

...HOT HENCHWOMAN TROPE SUPREMACY!! Yep. Fanservice for me.

Exhibit C: Real Zelda's Angst

This is where it's getting twistingly FUN.

This is an HC I assimilated like a borg from my ZHS buddy @kazraza  Her theory is so ***** angsty and delicious and I love it! 

At the time of King Rauru and Queen Sonia, Ganondorf created a pawn with Zelda's appearance so that it could get close to them and attack.

Then, in order to distract Link 10 000 years later, Ganondorf had to "refine" his weapon. He needed "data and real Zelda knowledge" uploaded into Puppet Zelda to ensure her credibility and the success of her mission. He wanted to make sure she could distract Link and trick him. 

And where did all this personal knowledge of Real Zelda's innermost intimate thoughts and insecurities come from, you may ask?

Well from the real Zelda herself of course!!

But when and where was this data collected?

We believe all of Zelda's Angst was leached directly from her during her 100 years mystic battle containing Calamity Ganon in this Malice Cocoon in Breath of the Wild. *GASP* Puppet Zelda was there all along in Breath of the Wild....absorbing all of Zelda's angst!!!

This is why everyone was confused and tricked by Puppet Zelda in TotK. This is why Puppet Zelda asks Link if he remembers their time at Hyrule Castle: she has Zelda's pre-calamity memories and this why Link is so tortured in my art! She can REALLY mess with him big time. I really like to think there is a part of real Zelda inside Puppet Zelda. Her dark side: Her anger, her cockiness, her jealousy, her selfishness... her desire. 

She is also kind of Zelda's answer to Dark Link.

Alright I wrote enough for tonight. To whoever took precious minutes of their lives to read this well...thank you! I am now moving on with my life too 🤣

For more HC about Puppet Zelda, her powers and influences, this should be all covered in future art

(i hope)

Cheers!! And glory to Puppet Zelda ✋

[bird-wells214]

idk if this has been noticed and i'm just slow but i noticed this lil detail i really love

the iconic backwards voices that plays during ganon's theme don't make their first appearance during the memories until ganon murders sonia, and only then they show up specifically for the monsters he spawns, not him himself -- they dont even play when he's on screen

the first time the voices are directly intertwined with ganondorf's theme is during rauru's entrapment of him. following that, the voices then have small cameos during each dungeon boss theme, INCLUDING ganondorf's boss himself

the most intense presence that the backwards voices have are during the intro, the descent to gloom's lair, during an encounter with the gloom hands, and when ganon is sealed away

final theory: the backwards voices aren't apart of ganondorf's theme. they're a leitmotif for the gloom.

[rawliverandgoronspice]

Okay, I just wanna say that Ganondorf in ToTK, despite not having Wind Waker’s pathos, is easily the best Ganondorf we’ve had (which is surprising considering some parts of the story). He’s terrifying whenever he shows his mug, he’s active and damn near omnipresent though Puppet Zelda and the Phantom Ganons/gloom spawns, and he’s easily the most unhinged take on the character we’ve ever seen. As for his motives, it’s as simple as turning hyrule into a chaotic hellish landscape where the only rule is that the strong thrive and the weak die, which isn’t really unique, but the landscape and monsters in the game kinda cements how bad that would be.

I get we were kinda expecting another Wind Waker situation, but what we got is great too because Ganondorf was great in Ocarina of Time and he too wasnt anything beyond pure near omnipresent evil.

I mean... I think it's as good as any a time to bring up a really important distinction to the way I critique stuff in general, which is that there's a part of interacting with art that is kind of is... true at a fundamental level? That fundamental level being the emotional response. Nobody can ever be more right or wrong for their emotional response, it's kind of non-debatable.

So I'm really glad TotK Ganondorf did it for you! I genuinely am. I actually loved some things about his incarnation; the musical motifs and the way they are integrated within the story (!!! so good), the concept of Fake Zelda, the actual final fight which I 100% agree is the best one we ever had (still love the TP one, but, the horseback part is a little eeeh and the swordfight could have been harder), his various designs, Gloom Hand and Phantom Ganon which are probably among my favorite parts of the game...

But yeah, I suppose I'm the kind of annoying player who needs a solid thematic framework to relax and accept the scenario proposed (the kind that is driven by mimicry and meaning, which is, I have to admit, especially hard and ungrateful to design for --and so is, often, completely ignored *sobs*). So I would have been completely fine with a Ganondorf without pathos, but one that did fit better within its own environment and countered the themes of the game and developed an ideological philosophy that you could solidly oppose, and not just treating him as an excuse to usher the gameplay forward (I mean, he did betray the gerudos which stranded him while you get to receive everyone's help, but he is not alone in practice! Every monster stands by his side! He may even have a more devoted and stronger support system than you depending on how you play the game). But that goes beyond Ganondorf: I had much trouble seeing past the self-referential and actually enjoy what Tears of the Kingdom had to offer in terms of emotional texture.

But yeah. Could not get behind the writing and a lot of choices in terms of... I don't know, the timing of his maniacal laughter, for example? I feel like a good maniacal laughter needs to be earned, and there's so many times where it just felt completely cheap to me? Even OoT Ganondorf, who had his share of cheap laughter moments, kind of had them work by the simple fact that they were here to directly mock us, the player, and our actions (if I remember well he only has two in the entire game: one after getting his way within the Sacred Realm, and one right before the final battle). We're not going over the extraordinary WW laughter, which is everything to me, but I also really enjoyed the kind-of-unhinged-but-sober take on TP Ganondorf, where he laughs only once and because he knows that he is close to losing probably. I think that was a great characterization, and I'm kind of sad they got rid of it to replace it with [insert maniacal laughter here] sort of approach that isn't specific to the character built over the years (except for the moment where he turns into a dragon, which was the one I liked the most --but it was greatly overused in my opinion).

So I really think his absence of specificy and the fact that his plans are pretty much nonsensical when you examine them for more than a minute, and the fact that he was all over the place and actually sparring with you and building direct grief with you in previous titles, where here I really wasn't sold on why I was supposed to invest myself in the situation besides a vague sense of duty and "that's what the game expects of me" really... didn't sell me the intimidation or the presence. There are a couple of iconic moments that I genuinely loved to see (the whole fist in the throat was GREAT, and perhaaaaps the "come at me" tho even THAT is self-referential grumble grumble sorry to be like this I'm genuinely sorry, the thought wouldn't even have crossed my mind if everything else about him wasn't a strange patchwork, but, it does pile up), but, I needed the framework to stand on its own to genuinely love him in this game.

But I'm really glad if he scratched the itch for you! Most people seem to agree too, which is great. I just... I mean, I am obviously invested in this not becoming the standard of quality. I think we could keep a lot of what worked here and add a scoop of better writing and thematic consistency, and I'd be on board way more already.

[wifeglor]

21 for BIG MELKOR if there’s anything we are yet to know…

love you for this one for real. OK, since you said you meant the DVD commentary question, here are some additional thoughts (bite thy wings and let thee crawl, Melkor/Maglor)

First, I really just want to share all the passages from Lay of Leithian that I'd copied into my notes doc (beyond the bit I included and took the title from), because. Big Melkor canon...

Then Morgoth came. For the last time     in those great wars he dared to climb      from subterranean throne profound,      the rumour of his feet a sound      of rumbling earthquake underground.     (25) Black-armoured, towering, iron-crowned      he issued forth; his mighty shield      a vast unblazoned sable field      with shadow like a thundercloud;      and o'er the gleaming king it bowed

and

Heard ye not then of that pretty fay, of Lúthien? Her body is fair, very light and fair. (210) Morgoth would possess her in his lair. Boldog he sent, but Boldog was slain: strange ye were not in Bolgod's train.

Fierce is your chief, his frown is grim. Little Lúthien… what troubles him? (215) Why laughs he not to think of his lord crushing a maiden in his hoard, that foul should be what once was clean, that dark should be where light has been?

Whom do ye serve, Light or Mirk? (220) Who is the maker of mightiest work? Who is the king of earthly kings, the greatest giver of gold and rings? Who is the master of the wide earth? Who despoiled them of their mirth, (225) the vain Valar? Repeat your vows, Orcs of Bauglir! Do not bend your brows. Death to light, to law, to love; cursed be moon and stars above; may darkness everlasting old (230) that waits outside in surges cold drown Manwë, Varda and the sun; may all is hatred be begun and all in evil ended be in the moaning of the endless Sea!' (235)

and

Into the vast and echoing gloom more dread than many-tunnelled tomb in labyrinthine pyramid where everlasting death is hid, down awful corridors that wind (5) down to a menace dark enshrined; down to the mountain's roots profound, devoured, tormented, bored and ground by seething vermin spawned of stone; down to the depths they went alone. (10)

and

Slow-wheeling o'er his iron crown, reluctantly, shivering and small, (95) Beren there saw the shadow fall, and droop before the hideous throne, a weak and trembling thing, alone. And as thereon great Morgoth bent his darkling gaze, he shuddering went, (100) belly to earth, the cold sweat dank upon his fell, and crawling shrank beneath the darkness of that seat, beneath the shadow of those feet.

and

Yet welcome, welcome to my hall! I have a use for every thrall.

and

A pretty toy for idle hour. In slothful gardens many a flower (190) like thee the amorous gods are used honey-sweet to kiss, and cast then bruised, their fragrance loosing, under feet. But here we seldom find such sweet amid our labours long and hard, (195) from godlike idleness debarred. And who would not taste the honey-sweet lying to lips, or crush with feet the soft cool tissue of pale flowers, easing like gods the dragging hours?

and

Then flaring suddenly they fell, down, down upon the floors of hell. The dark and mighty head was bowed; (275) like mountain-top beneath a cloud the shoulders foundered, the vast form crashed, as in overwhelming storm huge cliffs in ruin slide and fall; and prone lay Morgoth in his hall. (280) His crown there rolled upon the ground, a wheel of thunder; then all sound died, and a silence grew as deep as were the heart of Earth asleep.

Like did I even have to write this fic?? Tolkien wrote it first...

This is most of what I have to say that I haven't said before, aside from that I love to see people in the tags of @aquaregiaart's beautiful art losing their minds in the exact same way I did when I first saw an earlier version of it and felt possessed by a demon with the urge to tell some more of that story!! 😌

One other thing on my mind when writing beyond horny was Melkor's voice, I guess. I really wanted his lines to "sound" resonant as though they came from a position of power, and "read aloud" well, and I tried to pay attention to that when I was editing, taking out some of the hedging and other words I had in there as options at first (at least one "I think" got cut at that stage... Just picture me like staring at 2 very similar options like it's the dress meme, muttering to myself "Would Melkor say this? I don't fucking know..."). I haven't spend a ton of time thinking of Melkor as a character (I've only written him a little bit before, in the backdrop of Finrod/Sauron AU) and I really wanted him to come across as scary and brutal/unflinching but also keep some sort of undertone suggesting that At One Point, he was or could be a seducer figure as well. Also, revisiting these Lay of Leithian portions with him was inspiring in terms of writing & keeping in some of his dialogue in the fic, because he DOES have a villainous glee in Lay of Leithian, a bitter, proud sort of "positioning" against the Valar, and he likes to hear himself talk. After reading that, I felt a lot more empowered to write him talking some more!! Thank you so much for your Big Melkor support all through working on this, it makes my heart grow to Big Melkor sizes ❤️❤️❤️

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Oh no the reason the Gloom Spawn is terrifying isn't because they pop out of nowhere (tho that's part of it) it's because 90% of the time the first encounter is when your just walking along the path and suddenly red goop starts spreading from the ground and the sky turns red and that FREAKY ASS MUSIC plays and your first reaction is to run already, increased by the fact you have a bunch of hands chasing you, and the shots are so freaking fast that the second you run out of stamina they catch you and they start draining your life with gloom damage and most people at that point only have like... 4 hearts and low stamina. My own first interaction with them was climbing Mount Lanayru at 5 hearts and 2 stamina upgrades because I remembered how much I freaking loved the Corrupted Naydra fight and wanted to see if there was something up there as a callback.

I literally jumped off a cliff the moment the sky turned red and shit

LOL that’s fair, if I’d run into them when I just started it would’ve been different. Somehow the gloom hands saw me and were like “she’s weird, let’s stay away from her” until I had a couple sages and lots of light weapons. Phantom Ganon absolutely wrecked me the first time I picked a fight though, I had no idea that was a thing.

[marshmallowloves]

HELLO CICI MY BELOVED PLEASE ANSWER 📆Calendar and 🕯️Candle for Koci my beloved 🥺

~ @princess-hope-selfships 💖

Doing this for BOTW/TOTK Koci (rather than ALBW/PH Koci) cause I think I've fleshed her out the most asjfhsjg (and...also I think that's the version you meant anyway fjdhfj) Also hi yes hello my lovely friend I'm sorry this is late and also long af but you unlocked the BOOK OF KOCI so ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

🕯️Candle: Do you/your self-insert have a secret? If so, what is it and why do they keep it to themselves? Is it dark and mysterious or something small, yet impactful?

Koci's a pretty open book about most things... Her only true secret is one that even she doesn't fully understand. Ever since Link pulled the Master Sword and she started travelling with him, an infrequent but recurring nightmare began to ail her.

It started as a very simple premise - she would find herself in a dark stone and dirt corridor somewhere underground, locked behind bars in some sort of prison cell. She would hear the anguished screams and cries of other people further away, but couldn't see who or where they came from.

As time passed and the calamity drew near - and especially when she and the champions camped nearer to places infected with malice - the nightmares became more frequent and detailed. She would see someone who looked very similar to herself in the cell across from her. Faceless Hylian soldiers began to patrol the corridor and would sometimes drag that person away and out of sight. Eventually the soldiers would taunt Koci through the bars and take her away, though she always woke up before she could see where - and often did so gasping for air or crying out in her native Kokiri language.

Though it was obvious that she was having these nightmares, Koci was always too afraid to tell anyone what they were about - especially on the rare occasion that the faces of the soldiers would become those of her friends. Rina was the only one who knew for quite some time, but even she couldn't say much about why it was happening. Koci had always suspected that it was either a vision of the past or an omen of the future, but it wasn't until Link and Zelda first explored beneath Hyrule Castle that Koci realized there actually was a connection - the screams that only she could hear down there were the same ones from her dreams. Even then, she still never told anyone - even when the nightmares became less frequent before the Upheaval, or when they started coming back the closer they stayed near Gloom that had spawned after.

It would only be after Zelda's return following the defeat of the Demon Dragon that Koci would feel safe in revealing exactly what her nightmares were about. With Link and Zelda promising to keep her safe, they would explore below the castle a second time so that Koci might finally put those suspicions to rest...

📆Calendar: What was the most special day to date for yourself/self-insert? It could be anything!

Because of how long she's lived already, Koci has a lot of moments and memories that are particularly special to her, and it's hard for her to pick a favorite.

There was of course the day she was paired with her guardian and closest friend in the world, Rina. By Kokiri standards, Koci had really only just been born, knowing next to nothing about the world around her, but Rina was there to answer every question and curiosity she had. It seemed like she knew everything about...everything, from how things were made to history and customs across different cultures and anything in between. Koci never questioned how Rina knew so much, and to this day she has no idea that her guardian fairy is much, much more than meets the eye... but they're inseparable all the same.

There was also the day she learned that Link returned her feelings, even though their individual duties meant they had to wait a while. Over several years since meeting him, she got to see more of what he was really like beyond his role as a knight and grew to adore it quite a lot, but she worried that his job would keep him from ever seeing her as more than a travelling companion. So naturally she was overjoyed when he proved her wrong and told her that he actually felt pretty similar - he also wondered if she really wanted to be as close to him as it seemed, or if that was just because she was sworn to the blade he carried. And even before that, she seemed sort of intimidated by the fact that his role was so important, so it came as a pleasant surprise to both of them that they actually had feelings for each other.

Then there were moments, as the calamity inched closer, where she and Zelda would act more as friends. Initially, Koci was intimidated by the Princess' role and status, similar to how she first felt about Link. And in the beginning, she didn't understand why Zelda seemed to hold such disdain for her. But when she later learned that it was for the same reason the Princess initially felt contempt for Link - because he was able to fulfill his role when she couldn't - Koci and Zelda began to understand one another more. Koci also didn't feel very confident about her role - it was given to her as something she just had to do, and made her feel like more of an accessory than a person among her companions. The moments when Zelda would come around and the two would share stories and laugh with each other helped Koci feel more welcome in the place she was supposed to be.

Then there came the point when she and Link decided to settle in his home in Hateno Village after Ganon's defeat. It was the first time after they'd admitted their feelings for each other that they could finally rest and spend true quality time together. It wasn't something either of them ever expected to want when they were younger, but after everything they went through over the previous years, it was special to each of them.

But the most important day (or days, rather) for Koci, whether she realized it at the time or not, was when Link came to claim the Master Sword - both the first and second time. For a few years prior to the first, she had been preparing for the moment the hero would appear to claim the blade she had guarded all this time, but she had no idea just how much of her life it would change. Getting to know Link both as a knight and as a person, going from a sheltered and simple life in the forest to experiencing the vast and unfamiliar kingdom of Hyrule, doing so alongside the Champions and getting involved with the royal family, making new friends in all of them... All of these things not only opened her eyes to a world outside the one she grew up in, but also allowed her to live and mature within it - something that, from what little she knew of her own race's history, no Kokiri had ever been able to do before.