#and a lot of other lore about demon culture

[fiftysevenacademics]

I've seen a few posts critical of the plot of Fangs of Fortune, and other comments elsewhere about it being style over substance.

On some other post, I commented that if you're looking for a tightly constructed, linear plot, you'll be disappointed. The plot is fine, but a large part of the story is told through what people too easily dismiss as "style" instead of witty dialogue or whatever.

You can tell a story through different mediums, and in this show, visual storytelling reigns. The music does a lot of heavy lifting, too. We shouldn't shortchange the writing: there is some amazing dialogue that is skillfully deployed to develop characters.

But it's true that plot devices sometimes appear from out of nowhere and there is one thing that, to me, is borderline ridiculous. But by the time it happens I was so emotionally invested, I chose to just roll with it.

But this is the difference between telling a story in straightforward narrative style, and telling a story using the language of dreams or myth. We've all had dreams that affect us profoundly, that convey a message even if they sound nonsensical when we try to explain them. And myths frequently involve characters having sudden knowledge or being sent on a task or quest that doesn't make sense as a way to solve a problem.

The point of both dreams and myths is to make sense of contradictions and dilemmas in our personal lives and in our cultures. This is why dreams have emotional resonance even when they don't make sense, and why myths sometimes resonate over centuries or even millennia.

Fangs of Fortune is based on ancient Chinese lore about mythical creatures, and it would have been a shame to shoehorn them into a narrative limited to human motivations, goals, and abilities. I hate media that tries to rationalize mythical beings, and love Fangs of Fortune because it refuses to do this. It takes the viewer on a gripping emotional journey through the lives of characters whose motivations are partly relatable and human, and partly in the less knowable realm of gods and demons that humans have always used when pondering the great mysteries of life, like the nature of love and sacrifice, and how we should behave in the face of loss and injustice.

A lot of people try to make "dreamlike" shows and movies and few succeed. Fangs of Fortune, for me, sets a new standard in how it can be done.

[blueblend]

I - Uh, I went too hard and can't even attempt coloring, 'cause sleep.

But, none the less - Truth time? I liked his shenanigans, his ending makes me sad, and I just miss him, okay?

I wanna know more about how the whole 'sword spirit,' works, kthx.

Linktober 2023 | Main Calendar | Day 5 | Species/Race

I will be coming back to this. I worked too hard on it.

Idk what this one says about me tho. Don't tell me either. Let me live in bliss.

[assassinhomecreedstuck]

i cant believe ive played world of warcraft for 20 years

[dalishious]

Dragon Age: Origins is still great today, and you should give it a try

I want to preface this post with an important disclaimer: I am not about gatekeeping, and I think that ultimately, you should play or skip whatever Dragon Age games you want. If even after this post you feel like Dragon Age: Origins just isn’t for you, that’s fine! That doesn’t mean you can’t still enjoy the Dragon Age media you do want to consume, and it certainly doesn’t mean you’re any less valid a fan. But I personally adore Dragon Age: Origins to this day, and I would love to see more modern gamers give it a chance, despite it being from 2009.

It’s a great introduction to the world of Thedas

Dragon Age: Origins had the tall order of being the first in a potential franchise, yet it climbed those heights and beyond. It perfectly balances the need to explain the world setting and tell a story within that world at the same time, by organizing the plot into puzzle pieces. You, the protagonist, have to recruit different factions into your cause to save the kingdom of Ferelden, so each piece of the game has a different focus on those factions. It spoon-feeds the player information at an easy to understand and absorb pace.

Dragon Age: Origins also makes good use of codex entries for those of you who are big lore buffs and want even more information. Yet at the same time, it does not overly rely on the codex; all the most crucial parts of the lore that you need to know are included in your interactions with characters and plot.

The player gets to shape the story

The nature of those puzzle pieces also means that you have huge control over the story from start to finish, because the puzzle itself is shaped by you! The outcomes of each piece form the blueprint of the climax. The end of the game is reactive to the choices you make in the story throughout. (Mind you, a lot of those choices have been retconned in later games, but still, within the confines of Dragon Age: Origins itself, it’s still fun to see the outcomes of your decisions.)

The story itself is great

I would consider Dragon Age: Origins to have the most straightforward premise of all the Dragon Age games released thus far, with a strong identity linking the different main quests all together. You are a newly recruited Grey Warden, left to unite Ferelden against the big bad Blight after 99% of the Order within the nation is wiped out in a catastrophic battle. You may get caught up in dwarven politics, ancient curses, demonic possession, and plenty more along the way, but no matter where you find yourself, your motivation always falls back to that ultimate responsibility.

The characters are also great

Almost all the companions you’re able to collect along the way are very easy to love, or at least appreciate them for what they are.

Alistair is also a new grey warden. He is struggling with grief over the loss of his mentor, and the weight of having no control over his identity his whole life.

Morrigan is a witch who grew up isolated in the woods with no one but her abusive mother for company. Now she must learn to interact with others, and dependant on the player, perhaps even make a friend, lover… or enemy.

Leliana is a bard from Orlais, whose faith told her to assist the grey warden plight. But beneath the demure outward appearance, she has a much darker past she’s running away from.

Sten is a Qunari warrior who was taught that outside his culture, everything is backwards and nonsense, but he cannot return home until he has restored his soul by recovering his lost sword. Along the way, he may learn to appreciate or despise Ferelden.

Zevran was enslaved by the Antivan Crows as a child and made into an assassin. If the player can chip away at his nonchalant mask, they will find his past has left a lot more scars on him than he thought it safe to admit.

Wynne is a mage from the Circle who is struggling to deal with the nature of age, death, and life purpose.

Shale is a golem who was once under complete and total control by her former master, now learning what it’s like to be free, and wanting to uncover her forgotten past before losing that freedom.

Oghren is there too, unfortunately.

And the player character really feels like they are of your own creation. The choices you make, little and small, offer a lot to shape whatever kind of protagonist you want. Additionally, the benefit of starting the game with a different origin, and playing out that origin before getting recruited into the grey wardens, offers a lot of prompting to get into the roleplay!

The datedness can be easily upgraded with modding anyway

Do you find the combat clunky? There’s mods for that. Do you find the graphics too bland? There’s mods for that. Do you wish you could kiss Alistair as a man or Morrigan as a woman? There’s mods for that, too. Dragon Age: Origins is very easy to mod; most of them you just drop the files into your override folder and start playing. Otherwise, you use the DA Modder app for DAZIP files, which is also not that complicated.

A lot of people consider Skyrim to be dated without mods, too. I personally don’t think there’s anything wrong with appreciating the ability to mod a game, as a positive point.

If you want to play, make sure you use LAA though!

Large Address Aware is a must-have on PC for Dragon Age: Origins.

For GoG or EA App/Origin users: You can just run LAA like normal!

For Steam users: You need THIS first

[hyuckmov]

haechan - all my demons have your smile

demon!haechan x angel!reader genre: smut, angst, fluff if you're into it wc: 9.6k <3 warnings: dubcon-y & morally gray (reader is a literal angel and doesn't know a lot about anything so it's hard to give informed consent, haechan manipulates her emotions and dreams bc he's a demon), heavy on the corruption kink, wet dreams, masturbating (m), thigh riding / grinding, blowjobs and oral, fingering, haechan thick cock agenda, power dynamics (supernatural edition), sweet aftercare, overstim other warnings: angel demon lore is a mix of representation in pop culture and media and is very NOT based on its religious connotations a/n: happy birthday to me...ngl i wrote 40% of this either tipsy or drunk. this is for all the people who requested being corrupted by haechan….please lmk what you think i hope you guys like this!!! thank u to @saintlyhyuck for giving me the idea for writing demon hyuck <3

haechan thinks your reaction when he calls you angel is like a shot of pure pleasure in his veins. 

"hey, angel." 

you spin around, mouth falling open, flush high on your cheeks. "how could you…?" 

in the dim light of the club, haechan can hardly believe his luck. he raises his eyebrows, leaning in closer to you, delighting in the way you tense. the glow of your skin growing stronger, the feathers of your wings – folded and poorly disguised as a halloween costume, beginning to rustle nervously. 

how could he? more like how couldn't he, what with the way you looked then. the glow of your skin growing stronger, the feathers of your wings – folded and poorly disguised as a halloween costume, beginning to rustle nervously. 

"what do you mean?" he smiles innocently, tilting his head to the side. he has to bite back a laugh at the sound of confusion you make, a small whimper in your throat. "angel is what i call all the pretty girls i see." 

at the stricken look on your face, he lets his mouth fall open deliberately slowly, widening his eyes mockingly. "unless…you're a real angel?" 

you look like a deer in headlights, trembling slightly, unsure of what to say. it was only your first night in the human world. you'd heard there were demons and devils roaming the streets, monsters and spirits hidden in shadowy corners who would hurt you for your wings, worse ones who would strip you of your skin. creatures who were dying to get ahold of an angel and figure out what made you glow, harvest parts of you which were so holy and undamaged. you weren't supposed to let anyone know who you were, least of all strange boys in dark and shadowy places. 

haechan can feel his body burning. it's as if he's hyper-attuned to each breath you take, every single particle of you seeping with untainted innocence, something breathtakingly pure about the way you shake in your flimsy white dress. anticipation claws against his insides – he wants you, wants to learn every part of you, drink in your sweetness and choke on it. 

he's never ruined an angel before. the thought of it sends a heavy pulse through him, right to his gut. 

"relax…" he soothes. he wants to touch your skin, but he knows you might just burst into pure flame out of sheer fright. he softens his gaze as much as possible, tries to dim the desire. a soft smile on his face, he places a hand on his chest, to where his heart should be — if he had one. 

"i'm an angel too." 

you gasp, hands flying up to cover your mouth, relief flooding your system. "really?" 

he nods, lips morphing into a comforting smile. his hand reaches out to touch your upper arm, stroking your skin soothingly. he almost moans with how soft-to-touch it is, your angel's glow tickling his fingers with warmth, spreading through his body and churning inside him. 

"of course," he murmurs. "you're safe with me." 

"if you're an angel…" you lean closer to him, wary of others who may be listening to your conversation. you couldn't believe your luck, finding another angel the first night you got here. breath fanning lightly over his face, you whisper, "where are your wings?"

he can't help it – his breath hitches. he's able to count your every eyelash, feel your chest rise and fall, pretty pink mouth so close to his. there's no suspicion at all in the way your eyes sparkle with innocent curiosity, wide and trusting. 

he can't help it — he wants to see them fill with tears. 

"you want to see my wings?" he murmurs, leaning down. brushing a light hand on your shoulder, he skims the glow of your skin, reaching behind you and letting the tips of his fingers brush the feathers of your wings. 

you still. a strange feeling spreads through you, the room swimming slightly as it makes your head go light, settling deep inside your bones with a dark pulse. this is something you've never felt in heaven – and you're not sure if you want to scream, or run, or guide his hand further on your shoulder blades, letting them linger on places you're sure no angels would ever touch… 

"can you show me?" your voice, achy and soft, is the only sound he can hear. 

and he can't help but wonder, as he guides you towards the back door with a hand on the small of your back, your footsteps barely touching the ground, holy light misting around your body in dizzying waves, – what is an angel like you doing in a place like this?

x

you close your eyes, but open them to find yourself sitting up in an unfamiliar bedroom. 

not the one you had just gone to sleep in - this one had dark silk sheets instead of your white ones, a red glow cast over everything from the lights above. it made you dizzy, and your mouth felt dry as you turned and realised you weren't alone.

the angel you just met was sleeping peacefully next to you, his wings tucked out of sight, skin glowing slightly even under the red light. one of his large hands rests on your thigh, and you suck in a breath at the sight of his veins protruding from his arms and over the back of his hands, long fingers seeming to burn against your skin. 

something stirs in you, a heat you've never felt before that creeps all the way from your navel to the tips of your toes. you didn't know why, but you felt the urge to press your thighs together, letting out a small sigh at the tiny bit of relief it allowed you. you hardly know what you're doing, as if you're being controlled by some higher power or deeper desire, when you guide his hand between your legs with your own trembling ones. 

his fingers twitch, and you freeze. 

his eyes open slowly, nothing innocent about the way his eyes slide over your body and stop at where his hand is nestled between your legs. parting his lips, his eyes flick back to yours, a careful eyebrow raised. 

"angel…what are you doing?"

x

"that's called a dream, sweetheart." 

rubbing your eyes, you steady yourself on the kitchen counter. "so it's not real?" 

"it's not," haechan assures you, kindly. 

"is it…like…my imagination?" 

"some dreams can be pure imagination, but sometimes dreams are our mind's way of letting us know what we want," he explains, purposefully. you sit there, lost in thought, as he brings out dishes from the kitchen and encourages you to eat breakfast. 

while in the human realm, you were bound by the limitations of any human form – needing to sleep, being able to dream, having to eat and drink to sustain your energy. and although there were still aspects of your divinity which spilled over: such as your wings, and the heavenly fire which made you glow, haechan was much more interested in the other ways mortality would change you. 

your propensity to feel lust and desire, primarily. 

"so…" you chew on your lip. "the people in my dream…are they…actually….in there with me?"

haechan smiles to himself. "i don't know what you mean, angel," he fakes a look of genuine confusion when his eyes refocus on you. "who did you dream about last night?" 

"you," you answer, honestly. 

"really? what were we doing?" 

you drop your fork.

haechan laughs lightly when you fumble for it on the ground, smiling serenely back at you when you straighten up, looking at him through your lashes. 

"but, if you don't know…" you tilt your head to the side, slight hopefulness in your voice, "doesn't that mean you weren't actually in my dream last night?" 

"well…" cocking his head to the side to match your own movements, he relishes the way you tense up when he makes eye contact. "we'll only know for sure if you tell me what you were dreaming about." 

your hands fly to your mouth and you shake your head. haechan watches with fascination at the way you mist sparkling light, blush tinting your cheeks with embarrassment. "i don't want to say," you whisper. 

you don't have to say anything. haechan still remembers the way you had looked at him when he opened his eyes, the thrill of feeling you guide his hand to your core. 

dipping into your dreams had been easier than usual, your mind offering up no resistance at all and handing over all reins of control to him. 

"angel?" 

it takes him a second to realize you're referring to him. 

"yes?" 

"i realised i don't know your name." 

he only hesitates for a split second. "it's haechan," he decides. full-sun – a typical angel name. you test it on your tongue, carefully forming the sounds, and he savors it.

he can't wait for nighttime again. 

x

the second time you wake up in a dream, you almost feel at ease in the familiar red-light flooded bedroom, relaxing further when you realise it's empty this time. 

this is just my imagination, you remind yourself.

getting up from the bed, you tiptoe over to the window, looking out at the starry sky. it calms you even further, giving you the courage to turn around and explore your surroundings. aside from a bedside cabinet, and the ridiculously large bed, the room was quite empty.

wondering what lay beyond the bedroom, you make your way to the door of the bedroom, and your hand is just on the doorknob when-

"angel."

if this was just your imagination, then why did it seem so real? 

haechan lay on the bed you woke up in, one hand fisting the black silk sheets while the other traced down his body, writhing with what looked like pain. his eyes were closed, lips parted as he let out small sounds of some emotion you couldn't quite place. 

even as you try to take in what you're seeing, your mind races as you pick up a million other details. you've never seen him in clothes like this before — straps and buckles adorning his chest and pulling in his waist sharply so that you can catch every heaving breath he takes. and when his hand slides lower, ghosting under the waistline of his pants, the soft fabric shifts and you can faintly see the shape of something twitching between his legs. 

"haechan?" crossing over to the bed quickly, you place a hand on his shaking thigh, withdrawing it as if scalded when his back arches and he lets out a moan. "sorry-" you blurt out, "did i hurt you?"

"angel," he whimpers, eyes still closed as he rubs his palm over the front of his pants, his other trailing up under his shirt and teasing over his chest. "fuck-" you suck in a sharp breath at the profanity.

you know there's something wrong about the scene before you. there's nothing holy in the way he tilts his head back to let out a slew of sounds, the line between what was pain and what was pleasure blurring as his lips glisten with saliva, and when he slides that familiar veiny hand underneath his waistband, you could swear he purred. 

and surely, there was something desperately wrong with you too, because the ache between your thighs that you felt the last night was now burning something unbearable, and you felt the urge to reach out and touch him, hear what sounds he would make under your fingertips, beg him to open his eyes so you can see that hungry look again. 

his body stills.

his breathing slowly calms down, his hands slowly releasing himself from under his clothes, falling limply on the sheets. silence fills the room again and static buzzes so loud in your ears you feel like you're about to burst into flames. you don't know what you're doing, as you reach for one of his hands, guiding it towards your mouth as you dart out the tip of your tongue to taste the sticky white substance coating his fingertips. 

and then his eyes open, staring directly at you. 

x

"haechan?" 

"mmhm?" 

"did you dream, yesterday?" you ask him, hesitantly.

"yeah," he answers, easily. 

"what did you dream about?" 

"nothing much. i was in bed, –" a small gasp, and another sound as the mug in your hands slips and falls onto the table with a small thud. he grins, continuing to work on the wards guarding your front door, listening to you clean up behind him. "why? was i in your dream again?" 

a long pause. "kind of." 

when he turns, you're looking at him guiltily, hands clasped tightly in front of you as you twist your fingers this way and that. 

"angel…" he soothes, but the name only makes you shiver. crossing over to you, he pulls you into a comforting hug, your body relaxing under his touch as you lean your head against his chest. you can hear his words through his chest, a low hum filling your ears and making you feel so safe. 

"the dreams…" you admit, softly. "they're so scary…and confusing…i wish i didn't have to dream anymore, i don't think i like it at all…"

"do you want me to stay by your side when you fall asleep again? i can wake you when the dreams make you uncomfortable." 

you nod, eyes shining up at him with adoration and gratitude. 

he just can't wait for nighttime again. 

x

you can't fall asleep. 

haechan holds you against his chest, one of his thighs slotted carelessly between yours. he's resting peacefully, looking angelic under the moonlight, an arm slung protectively around your waist. but if it weren't for your white sheets and your familiar bedroom – adorned with flowers you had picked and shiny trinkets he collected for you, you would have mistaken it for another dream because of the desperate heat that throbbed inside you. 

you didn't know what to do to relieve the pain, body shifting clumsily as you tried to move your hips or rub your thighs against each other, the movement blocked by the way your legs were tangled together. frustrated, you give your hips a rough pulse against his thigh, and freeze when the sensation offers you more than a little relief, an insidious sweetness in your core. 

you move your hips again, grinding gently on his plush thighs, then a little harder as you realise it feels better the more friction there is as you rub against him. and now you're positively humping his leg, breaths coming quick and fast, whines seeping out from behind your closed lips as you try to make the pain go away, chasing pleasure as it comes. 

"angel?"

a rough hand grips your waist, and you gasp. 

haechan's wide eyes meet yours, darker than you've ever seen before, and for some reason when his hand squeezes your side you find yourself shifting even more uncontrollably against him, seeking the friction you craved. 

"i'm sorry!" your voice comes out as a whimper, as you try to back away from him. the room is burning hot, dizzying heat making you gulp. "i don't know what came over me, i just really-" your whole body flooded with shame and guilt, you pull his hand away from where it squeezes your waist.

"hey, hey, it's okay…" in the moonlight, you can see his face morph into an expression of understanding, a sense of authority in the way he helps you sit up and pulls you into his lap. he sweeps you into his arms, and you feel safer than ever before as you straddle him, your body melting with his as you nuzzle your face into his chest, still feeling the aftershocks of embarrassment when you realize he just caught you doing something so unspeakable to his unconscious body. 

you whimper out another apology, letting each stroke of your hair calm you down as he hums, low in his chest, the sound shooting straight to your core in a way that both thrills and frightens you.

"is this what the dreams were about?" 

"yes," you mumble, the sound of your heartbeat still rushing in your ears. timidly, you lift your head to meet his gaze. "i don't know why this is happening, i've never felt this way before…" 

"like this?" his hand slowly snakes down in between your legs, cupping your core with his large hand. the heel of his hand presses against some part of your core, and you keel over into him again, body shuddering as your hips buck into his hand instinctively, as if you were made to react that way. soft whimpers rise from the back of your throat as you nod in response to his question, body moving clumsily as you grind against his fingers. 

haechan swallows, hard. the image of his angel, dressed in that tissue-paper thin white nightgown, humping desperately against his hand like a bitch in heat, was more arousing than he could have ever anticipated. he wants to push you down to the bed and fuck you hard, splitting you apart on his cock and making you beg to cum, he wants to- 

"help me-," you pant in his ear, hips now moving in jagged circles, as if your body can't decide whether to lean into the pleasure or move away from it. "please, i don't know what's happening…"  

"angel, do you trust me?" he murmurs, quietly. 

the answering moan you let out punctures the air. "mmphh…

yes…" you gulp, hands now pawing at his chest as he ghosts his fingers over your clothed core. 

"then trust me when i say that all angels experience this," he advises, calmly. you're enraptured by his every word, and he leans even closer to you as he presses an insistent finger against your clit, smiling to himself as your body shudders.

hopefully, you gasp into his neck. "really?" 

dipping his fingers under your panties, he begins to rub slow circles on your clit, relishing the way you shake under his touch. "of course," he murmurs, voice dropping an octave. 

pressure begins to build up in your core as you submit to the feeling. you close your eyes, feeling him rub and pinch at your clit in a way that makes your hips jerk and your thighs go weak. you push your hips into his lap, not even really sure about what you're doing, being met with something hard that makes you whimper as it ghosts over your clothed cunt. strangely, when your hips meet his, haechan also lets out a pained groan, the hand at your core speeding up, wet sounds filling the room as he dips lower and lower, fingers tracing around your slit as he throws his head back and lets out a moan. 

"am i hurting you?" you ask, panicked, hips stuttering to an unsteady halt as you place both palms flat on his chest, trying to push yourself away from what was threatening to unravel you. "haechan i'm so sorry, i must be really bad at this-" 

he interrupts you with a searing kiss, his mouth moving against yours, tongue stroking into your mouth and claiming all your sounds. pulling you back against his body, his hips drag sinfully upwards, grinding into you with just the smallest hint of desperation. 

feeling you fuck yourself against his clothed cock, mind clouded with desire and not a single idea of what you were doing – knowing he could corrupt you in so many different ways, had his head spinning with all the possibilities.  

"you're perfect, angel." pushing you so you lay flat against the bed, he clambers over your body, all the while sponging kisses on your neck with a sweet tenderness.

"but," you shake your head, trying to get rid of the haze in your mind. "you sound like you're in pain, and-" 

"you wanna make it better, angel?" 

nodding vigorously, you sit up and almost hit your forehead against his. "please!" you beg, hands fumbling beyond your control as you struggle with the the waistband of his pants, trying to tug them down so you can see what he was doing in your last dream, so you could help with where it hurts. "i want to help, i want to make you feel good…" 

his hands sweep your wrists into a tight grip, and your movements freeze. you look up at him, breath caught in your throat. 

"from now on, angel…" he traps your hands above your head, his other dragging your nightgown up your waist with a flat palm, still trying to feel as much soft skin under his hands as possible. "can you be quiet for me? can you do that, sweetheart?" 

you nod, bottom lip snug as you bite down on it. he knows you won't be able to hold it for long. 

"i'm going to make you feel so good, angel," he breathes, hand now tugging your panties down your legs at a sinful pace. he answers your silent question with a smile. "feel how wet you are? do you know what this means, baby?" he taunts, quietly. 

"all of this…" he slides two fingers against your slick core, smiling as your hips thrust up, your body responding to him and completely out of your control. "all of this shows me how much you like me, angel." 

one long finger slides into your core, and he lets out a filthy groan at the way your tight pussy sucks him in, tight and eager. 

"have you ever touched yourself here before?" 

you shake your head. "i didn't know i could," you mumbled, hips still stuttering, fucking yourself on his finger. "haechan…it feels so…" 

he starts to slide his finger out, thrusting it slowly against your walls, this thumb comes out to rub your clit, and your back arches, a gasp wrenched from your throat as you cum, uncontrollably, all over his hand.

pulling his hand out from your core and freeing your wrists, he silences every single one of your gasps with a kiss, tenderly nipping at your lips as his hands roam over your body. he just made his angel cum for the first time. 

"m-more," you pant, hands scratching down his back as you attempt to thrust up against his stomach. "haechan- i don't mean to be greedy, but i want… i want…" 

two fingers slide easily into your core, your moans morphing into a pleasurable sigh as your eyes roll back in your head, drunk on a feeling you've never felt before. a slow heat crawls around your body, wrapping itself around you and suffocating until all you can think about are his veiny hands, the hard length in his pants, and the way you still felt empty even as he pushed a third finger into you. 

"you see how your cunt just sucks my fingers in?" his voice is baby-talk pitched, and you fall even harder under his spell, nodding vigorously as your thighs clamp shut around his hand. "such an insatiable, needy slut… thought you were supposed to be an angel, hmm?" you claw at his body, hips moving in time with the way his fingers were moving in and out of you. 

haechan feels like he's in seventh heaven, the way you're losing your mind over just his hand, obsessive over a feeling you can't even articulate. he crooks his fingers against your walls, a triumphant glow thundering in his chest when he sees you fall apart even more. 

it's when you're on the brink of cumming for a second time, your body glowing like a bonfire, spilling light all over the room, when he suddenly withdraws his hand. leaning back against the headboard, he tugs his pants down and feels his thick cock slap up against his stomach, precum glistening from the angry red tip. 

he's not prepared for the sight of you, on all fours, crawling towards him, eyes wide and begging. as if in a trance, your hand reaches towards his cock, and your palm wraps around it curiously, giving it a hard stroke. his lets out another groan, one of his own hands wrapping around yours and encouraging you to squeeze even harder, focusing your attention on the tip and covering it with your fingers. 

"i know a way that can make both of us feel good." he makes sure there's nothing but sincerity in his eyes as he watches your head shoot up in excitement. 

"how?" 

pulling you into his lap again, and whispering his words sinfully against your lips, he coaxes you with a quick nip to your bottom lip, a swipe of his tongue against yours. "let me fuck your sweet cunt, hm?" he pants. fingers sliding expertly into your cunt, he wraps an arm around your waist as he makes scissoring motions in you, stretching you out. "bet you feel so empty…" he pouts, nodding sympathetically towards you. "i can fill you up so good, angel, you'll realize this is what you were made for…" 

your mind is slipping out of your grasp. you forget everything about being an angel, about how weird it felt to be touched like this, how you never once had another angel touch you between your legs, ideas of purity and innocence and sin blurring in a happy haze. 

"are you…" you gulp, eyeing the girth of his cock, the way it twitched under your palm as you squeezed. "are you sure it'll fit…in me?" you wonder aloud. 

"would you rather have me fuck your throat, angel?" 

"would that work?" and fuck, you're back on your knees, head dangerously close to his cock as your tongue darts out, licking up a shiny bead of precum from his slit. he's frozen in place as he watches you nuzzle your face against it, making a soft whiny sound at the back of your throat as you messily tongue at the base, his cock twitching against the soft skin of your cheek. "i don't…" you lap tentatively at his tip, using a hand to steady yourself on his thigh, the other gripping his cock and gently sucking the tip into your mouth, withdrawing when you feel the stretch against your lips. "i don't think it'll fit…" 

"come here," he croaks, arms coming up to steady you as you rush up to meet him, doe-eyes searching his for answers to this desperate desire he's instilled within you. 

"i need you," you whimper, frustratedly. "haechan please, i'll be good for you, just make this feeling go away…"

his cock teases over your entrance, and your moan rips through the half-finished sentence on your lips. 

"feels good?" he murmurs, kissing you deeply again as he thrusts up gently into you. "sit on it, don't be shy angel…" 

steadying yourself on his shoulders, you sink down on him, stopping every few seconds as you feel a slight stretch. the prep you've done with his fingers and all the teasing allowing your walls to give way to him, snugly sucking him in as you pulse around his member. every time you whimper, wings fluttering where they were folded against your back, he kisses you gently, hands stroking up and down your spine and distracting you from the sensation in your lower half.

"just a bit more, baby…" he bottoms out in you, a satisfied groan rumbling in his chest as he squeezes you into his embrace, your arms wrapped around him, craving his skin against yours as you shudder. he's already ripping your nightgown from your body, the luscious feeling of bare skin making you purr in delight. 

your palms skid over his skin, settling on his shoulders as he gives a rough thrust upwards, and you feel his cock drag heavy against your walls. his hand moves purposefully over to your clit, mimicking a vibrating motion with his fingers so you only clench tighter around him. when you cum again – the inner sides of your thighs now so wet that the filthiest sounds fill the room every time your hips meet, he feels lke he could do this forever. 

slowing down his movements, he gently pushes your hair out of your face to give you a little break. "how do you feel, angel?" he asks, softly.

"g-good…" you hiccup, swivelling your hips this way and that, trying to find a rhythm now that he had stilled within you. 

he hums, still not moving, enjoying the way you squirm in his lap. "something wrong?" 

"it hurts…" you whine, now bouncing on his lap, nails digging into his shoulders. "it hurts when you don't move, haechan, please…" 

"do you believe me when i said you were made for me?" 

"yes," you rasp out, as he starts to fuck into you again, making you feel every ridge and vein on his cock as he grinds up into you, blunt tip insistent against your sweet spot and making you feel that mind-numbing pleasure again. 

"is this all you're good for, angel? sitting in my lap, looking pretty…" he bites down on your neck, and you let out a soft cry. "being fucked open on me…" 

you nod, words leaving you as you melt under his strong grip. 

"making me so happy, angel," he murmurs, and you smile dopily up at him, panting. 

"you like making me happy?' 

you nod, swallowing hard as you work yourself into a frenzy, and he loves it, loves the way you rock your hips into his at an embarasing pace, sensitivity all at once too much for you and never enough. he watches as your eyes roll back into your head, wings bursting open with the sheer force of how hard you cum, walls squeezing him so tight that he can barely move as he lets go too. you gasp when you feel his warmth painting your walls, a new sensation on top of everything you've experienced that night making you let out a distressed whine. 

"be good for me, angel, hmm?" he coaxes, pulling you harder down onto his lap so you can't free yourself from his embrace. "let me fill you up."

dumbly, succumbing to the way he pulls you in for another kiss, you let your eyelids flutter shut, an overwhelming sense of fatigue flooding your entire system. until the room goes blurry at the edges, and the last thing you're aware of is haechan's hands sliding low on your navel, feeling where he was buried deep inside you, hands pressing against the way you bulge out — his pretty little angel stretched out and filled with him.

x

he's never fucked an angel before, so it almost comes as a shock when he catches a glimpse of you on his way out of your bathroom, immobile on your bed, skin drained of all its heavenly glow, a dullness so abrupt he freezes.

if he was to be honest, which he almost never had to be, his original plan had included leaving immediately after he got you in his bed. he had only been drawn to the idea of defiling an angel, filling you up with a need you never felt before, staining the glow of innocence that lit up your skin from beneath. 

he wanted the sight of you on your knees — of tears rolling down your cheeks. but he never prepared for this – 

haechan. 

your voice murmurs in his head, and he can hear how hoarse and fragile it is. he doesn't dare to move as he watches you, so motionless you're barely breathing, your body shielded by your wings and drawing his attention to how your feathers look like they would crumble into ashes. 

your voice creeps into his head again, and it's like some form of sick retribution – first he plays with your dreams, and now he doesn't know if it's really your voice in his mind or if it's some sort of guilt that seeped out of you and into him. 

haechan?

he moves without meaning to, the next thing he knows he's sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands sliding against the sheets towards you. 

"angel?" 

your eyes open to look at him, and through the haze of fatigue and your slow blinking, he can see that you're terrified. 

what's happening to me? 

he touches the tip of your wing. he pitches his voice low, and soothing.

"you're just adjusting from being in the human world," he murmurs. 

what if what we just did was wrong? tears well up in your eyes, and your lips part in a silent cry. haechan, i've never felt like this before…

he shushes you with a soft sound, leaning over to gather up your limbs and hold you against his chest, rocking you back and forth as he murmured praises into your hair. 

"how could it be wrong if it felt so good, angel?" wiping away your tears with a careful finger, he smiles encouragingly at you, pressing a light kiss to your cheek.

you nod, hanging onto his every word, letting it wash over you as your truth.

 "and also…" his voice dips. "didn't you see how happy you made me just now?" he murmurs, lips nipping at your ear. "don't you like making me happy?"

you nod again. 

hesitating, his hand cups your face, stroking over your jaw. he knows what would make you stronger again — something he read about angels surfacing in his mind before, recalling how your power was usually most concentrated in the column of your throat, and why it was extra sensitive. creatures would slit your throat for just a taste of your angel's grace, but if he were just to touch you at your sweet spot, feel your divinity underneath his fingertips and coax it to grow stronger with his own powers…

quietly, so as not to startle you, he slides his hand to your neck, tracing his fingertips over where your pulse point would be. your body begins to stir as he rubs circles closer to the back of your neck,  limbs twitching back to life and falling limp again. 

"how does it feel, angel?" he asks, softly. 

your lips part. "strange…" your voice is raw, a hollow and broken sound. "never felt this before…" 

he reaches the nape of your neck, and suddenly your hand flies up to grab his wrist in a strong hold – halting his movements and causing him to freeze as your nails dig into his skin, threatening to pierce through to his veins. "don't-!"

"i'm not going to hurt you," he murmurs, voice dripping patience and tenderness as he slowly pries each of your fingers off his wrist, interlocking his other hand with yours. "this is going to feel really good, okay?" 

your body continues to squirm against his, finger locking his in a death grip as he ghosts his hand over the nape of your neck, finally locating your most vulnerable spot judging by the way you let out a soft sound in his ear. he applies more pressure, massaging his fingers in soothingly and whispering praises to drown out your whimpering. 

and sure enough, your glow begins to come back – starting from where his hand held yours, a warm golden light which flowed through your veins and under your skin, your body heating up and enveloping him in that blissful glow again. you taste sweet when he presses a careful kiss to your collarbone, and if he listens closely he can almost hear your body hum with power, wings fluttering against your back as their ashy color seems to wash itself off, replaced with the pristine glow he'd taken a liking to. 

"haechan?" 

"yes, angel?" 

"when can we do that again?" you mumble, shyly. 

fuck that – he was beginning to grow obsessed with you. 

x

strolling with you outside, haechan lets the fresh air wash over him and calm him down. you look ethereal next to him, passerby's eyes glazing over when they catch sight of the way you seem to glide rather than walk, peering curiously at the different shop windows and dreamily staring at the stars above. possessively, he wraps an arm around your waist just so anyone who looks at you looks at him too, and realises you're his as much as he was yours. 

"this is so pretty," you whisper to him, tugging him to a display of diamond jewelry up ahead. he's learnt that you like shiny things and the smell of spring-time, that he could make your skin glitter by gently nipping at your bottom lip when he kissed you. looking at you and completely ignoring the jewels behind glass, he takes in the familiar look of love in your eyes and smiles. 

he could have robbed the store for you before you even had the time to blink. a snap of his fingers and the very necklace you were pointing at could have made its way onto your neck. or he could have had some fun with you and convinced you to steal it, coax you into doing one more terrible thing. 

but he pulls you into the store anyway – even as you latch onto his arm nervously, tugging at his sleeve telling him you don't need the pretty jewels. but still he patiently converses with the store attendant, encouraging you to pick out the pieces you liked the most, enjoying the genuine happiness in your eyes as he spoiled you with gifts. 

when the attendant is busying himself in the back room, you peek over at him with barely contained excitement, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 

"i'll make it up to you," you breathe, arms hooked around his neck. 

"how?" 

"i…" you look at him through your lashes, and he can feel your skin heat up. "i can do that thing you talked about last time…" 

"what thing?" he presses, pulling you closer so all of your attention is focused on him. 

you barely notice, caught up in your thoughts. "when i asked…and you told me…" 

"angel," he says, lowly. his voice is more raspy than he thought it would be, rough with need. "i won't know what you mean if you don't say it-" 

"you can fuck my throat," you say, softly. he searches your eyes and sees that you're embarrassed, yes, even a little guilty at the crude words which your lips just formed, but there's no trace of fear at all. you trust him wholly and completely, your breathing tinged with desperation as it picks up, as you brush up closer to him. when he doesn't respond, you hesitate a little, trying to decipher his expression. "if…if you still want to." 

"want to?" he murmurs. 

"i might not be very good at it, but you can teach me-" 

groaning, he swallows the rest of your sentence with a hungry kiss, the kind that lifts you off your feet and makes you feel like you're flying and falling all at once. 

x

he takes you home in an instant, dropping the bags of necklaces and diamonds as he pushes you roughly against the bedroom door. you slide to your knees in between his spread legs, his pretty angel, eyeing him with a maddeningly innocent look of wonder on your face. 

"how…how are you going to…" 

"do you want me to teach you?" 

you nod excitedly, hands now stroking his thighs absentmindedly, and he has to stifle a groan. 

"what if…" he clears his throat. "what if i changed my mind? what if i don't want to teach you anymore?" 

"please-" your eyes widen with fear. "i'll be good for you..." he still looks unconvinced, so more words fall at random from your lips. "and if i'm not good enough, you can punish me-" 

pulling you up, he kisses you harshly. it was almost as if you were rotten through and through, and it was all because of him. 

"i don't think there will be a need for punishments, angel," he assures you, gently pushing you back down on your knees as he shoves his pants down, tongue poking into his cheek and stretching his puffy lips apart as he watches the way you eye his cock almost hungrily. 

you start out by taking just the tip into your mouth, suckling on it lightly and letting go with a gasp when you feel like you can't breathe. he trains you through it, coaxing you to take more and more, holding your head down when you feel like giving up and stroking your face encouragingly every time you smile back at him, lips messy with drool and precum, eager for his approval. 

he finally gets you to sink down on him — feel your hot wet tongue licking over his veins, shoving your way through and choking yourself on his length, nose hitting his navel as your nails dig into his thighs with pain, trying desperately hard to breathe through your nose like he taught you as he fucks his hips up experimentally. 

it's like one of his filthiest fantasies, the way he pulls out to cum all over your face — your mouth lewdly open and trying to lick up as much of him as you could, unaware of how it made you look. 

"i'm sorry, angel," and he swears he almost feels it, as he pushes his fingers deep into you, rewarding you for your good behavior. "next time, i won't make it so messy." 

but you shake your head vigorously, back arching into his chest as your thighs clamp around his hand. "'m always making a mess of you too," you mumble, blush spreading to the tips of your ears as you smile up at him. "i don't mind you making a mess of me." 

drawing away from your body, he keeps his eyes on you the whole time he crawls down to situate himself between your legs. he keeps his eyes on you so he can catch the first look of surprise, confusion, and pure desire that spreads across your face when he sucks your clit into his mouth. 

"sometimes, i wish you could hear the things you say to me the way that i hear them." he laps at your entrance, and you swear you see stars. "you're so filthy, angel."  

and in the darkness of the room, you glow even brighter with pride. 

x

haechan feels a little stupid right now, sitting in his booth, letting some human girl put her hands all over him and hoping you're watching. 

"i'll only be a minute," he had murmured into your ear. "have something to take care of."

and for the past 5 minutes he's played his part well – fingers tilting her chin up so he can whisper words into her ear and brush his lips against her neck. playing with strands of her hair, eyes half-lidded and body slumped against hers, legs carelessly spread. he knows it's making her dizzy simply being around him, his body radiating lust.

it's when she slides into his lap that he finally feels your eyes on him, picking up on the way your breath hitches in a small gasp from all the way across the room. he doesn't bother to hide his smile as he rubs his thumbs on the girl's bare waist in slow, tantalizing circles. begging for you to take the bait. 

all the way across the room, your body tenses, hands trembling slightly as your vision zeroes in on haechan and the girl draped over him. you watch as she guides his eager hands up her thighs, the glint of his smile almost blinding in the dark. something roars inside your chest, clawing at your lungs, an acidic something you've never felt before threatening to melt you from the inside out as you watch her lean in towards him, lips dragging across his jaw where you had kissed him last. 

haechan closes his eyes when he feels her lean in, lips falling open as he mimics the look of someone lost in pleasure, hoping to rile you up even more. her lips barely brush his skin before he feels something searing hot take its place, pure pain rippling up from his palms where he was touching her skin. his eyes shoot open as he sits up with a jolt, but he doesn't have to look long to understand what happened.

the lifeless body of the human girl slumps to the dirty floor of the club. towering above her, wings fully extended, skin glowing so bright he could hardly make out your features, you look down at him with gold flashing in your eyes. 

"when you said you had something to take care of, did you mean her?" 

exhilaration races through him, your jealousy and your anger feeding each pump of blood in his veins. 

"angel-"

he starts to speak, but you cut him off with a tight hand on his wrist. 

"no." 

light briefly darts across his vision, the scene melting like wax as your bedroom materialises soundlessly around the both of you. 

he didn't even know you could do that. 

when you let go of his wrist, your wings are folded again, your skin returned to its normal pale glow. but there's nothing normal about the way you sink onto him on the bed, his body pliant under your touch in a way he isn't even able to control, all semblance of the power he just gained draining from him as you put your hands on his chest. 

"did i do something wrong?" you murmur, your voice lower than he had ever heard it. "is that why you went looking for her?"

his lips part, mouthing soundlessly as your weight shifts on him. he had forgotten how to speak, the way you were looking at him stealing his breath from his lungs and turning his mind to mush.

"why did you let her touch you?" you demanded, a slight growl to your voice he never heard before. "hm?"

"i'm s-sorry," he whispered. 

"do you want her?" your eyes flash dangerously, your skin burning hot to touch now, wings rustling along your shoulder blades. your hair moving unnaturally despite there being no wind in the room, reaching out and curling in lazy tendrils at the base of his neck. "are you thinking of her right now?" 

dazed and drunk on your voice, he shakes his head, eyes never moving from yours. drool glistens on his lips, his body numb under your spell. 

"want me, haechan," you breathe, pressing yourself into him needily, dipping your head so you can feel his labored breathing on your lips, lips brushing his as you beg – when really you have him under your complete control. "tell me you want me, just me." you push your hips against him, and he can feel himself throb with need. 

"i want you," he whimpers. "fuck, angel, i want you so bad, please-"

"show me," you murmur, your nails scratching down his chest and making him moan out breathily as you lift your weight from his. moving so you lie back against the headboard, you watch as he takes a second to catch his breath before scrambling up, eyes wild and movements jerky. 

positioning himself in between your legs, his hands drag your skirt up your thighs haphazardly, breath hitching when he sees you're already bare for him. 

"angel," he says without thinking, "fuck, angel, you're perfect." he dips his tongue into your cunt, moaning loudly and lewdly as your sweet arousal floods his tastebuds. sloppily moving his mouth over your folds, his tongue circles your clit expertly before dipping down to collect your juices. he moves his head this way and that, mindlessly holding you in place with strong arms as he licks his tongue as deep into you as it will go. your thighs clamp tight around his head, and he lets out a muffled sob of approval, his stiffened tongue pushing past your tight entrance and nose bumping your clit with his movements. 

you can feel your climax approaching, your body trained by him to respond to his touches. thrusting your hips into his face, he frees a hand to slip a finger into your tight hole, mumbling with pleasure when he feels you suck him in. 

"want my angel to cum," he begs, desperation dripping from his tone. the pads of his fingers brush your sweet spot, the warmth of your skin spiking again as the feeling makes you glow with pleasure, trapping him in a heat haze between your thighs. "my pretty angel," he hums approvingly, slipping in another finger. your hips twist this way and that but he pins you down firmly with his arm, stretching you out with his fingers as his lips move back to your clit. his mind is flooded with the thought of you and your pleasure, your small whimpers and each tremble of your body making his body buzz with satisfaction. his mind wiped clean of everything but your smell and taste. he spells out your name with his tongue, silken movements on your clit paired with rough drags of his fingertips against your walls finally making you release all over his face. 

he moans as he laps it up, sticking his fingers in his mouth to savor it. dizzy, he blinks up at you, feeling lightheaded as reality rushes towards him in a tidal wave. 

what the fuck did you just do to him? 

"angel." he starts, shaking his head to clear it again, loosening himself from your grip. "what did you…"

"did I hurt you?" you cup his face in your hands in one swift movement, tilting his head up so his eyes remain fixed on yours. "haechan? is everything okay?"

it's the way you say his name that pulls him right under again. gold specks dance in your eyes as your voice lowers, and it's like you slow time, and he can see your every word hang in the air, feel your angel's glow seep from the pads of your fingers into his bones and liquify every particle of him. 

"i-i…" he stammers. "angel…" 

"why did you stop?" his pretty pink mouth falls open when you place a thumb on his lower lip, his eyes glazing over as you let out a needy whine. "haechan…"

wordlessly, because he's forgotten all forms of language, he pulls you into his lap, letting you straddle him as he blinks up at you adoringly. kissing your collarbones, he removes your dress with shaky movements, reduced to nothing more than a human, forgetting to use his powers entirely as he shoves his own clothes away. 

his lips never leave your skin, sucking messy bruises and nuzzling his nose against your warmth. you're misting light in a hypnotic glow, and he's sure it's the reason why he's so hard it hurts, shaky hands now ghosting over your hips as he tries to stop himself from cumming untouched. 

"will you be good for me?"

amidst the fog in his brain, arousal shoots through him when he hears the words rise from your throat, and he bucks his hips up instinctively. his cock slides against your folds, and he lets out a choked sob, gripping onto your hips even tighter as he throws his head back. 

"i'm yours", he whimpers, hips shallowly thrusting up into you. a high pitched moan rips from his throat as he feels you sink down on him, gummy walls clenching onto him like never before. 

"are you mine?" you murmur, neediness still dripping from every syllable even as you have him reacting to your slightest touches like a livewire. you circle your hips, causing his to stutter. 

his arms wrap around your body, worshiping you with his touch. "i'm yours," he trembles, hips thrusting up to pound further into your heat. you clench hard around him, and he loses all control, cumming into you with an embarrassed whimper, his head falling against your chest. he slows to a stop as he feels himself coat your walls, sensitivity making him hiss.

"more," you urge, and his body reacts to the command before he realises what he's doing, thrusting up into you again as his voice cracks and jumps like a broken record. through tears in his eyes, he admires the way you look as you bounce on him, chest heaving and skin flushed, the soft sounds you make. he speeds up even as it hurts, a hand snaking in between your bodies to press at your clit, rubbing it in quick motions. 

"angel," he whimpers, like a prayer, breathing rough and shallow. "angel." you trace a hand on his cheek, and he nuzzles his face into it, bucking up into you with more fervor. he'd do anything to make you feel good, in that moment, no matter what it took. 

he cums when you do, feeling slick ooze out from where he was stuffed into you. he doesn't stop rubbing your clit, forcing your walls to clench in spasms around him. whimpering against your lips, you let him drive you into overstimulation as he fucks his spent cock into you again, dribbling out the last bit of cum he had left. 

when he pulls out of you, letting out a last gasp of pain, your eyelids are already starting to droop. the room is cold and silent without your glow, and he watches dazedly as you drain of all light again, a dullness spreading from in between your wings, faster than the last time. his whole body feels sore and spent, his arms barely able to hold you up as you slump against him. you look fucked out, and ashen, and — 

he pulls you in for a soft kiss. moving his mouth gently over yours, feeling stronger when you sigh into his mouth. his fingers caress the inner edge of your wings gently, moving to stroke comforting circles down your spine, his hand eventually trailing its way to the nape of your neck. 

"haechan…" 

"is this okay?" he murmurs, applying gentle pressure with his fingertips. your noses brush as you blink sleepily up at him, and he watches a little bit of glow flicker to life in your eyes, feeling your skin warm under his touch. you squirm a little in his arms, head nuzzling into his neck and throat letting out a soft whimper. 

"why…" you bite your lip as he applies a bit more pressure, "why is it always you taking care of me?"

the answer comes to him easier than breathing. "because you're my angel." 

"but i-" 

he gently maneuvers you around in his lap, strong arms lifting you so your back faces him instead. brushing your hair aside and gathering it up in one hand with a tenderness you can't even begin to place, his plush lips begin to graze your neck, reverently sponging kisses on the sweet spot he's had burned into his memory. you tilt forward, tingles running down your spine, but his arms encircle you and pull you back until you're almost flush against his chest.

this time, when he presses a soft kiss to your skin, warmth rushes through you like a shot of pure light through storm clouds, your whole body alight. 

"i want to take care of you too," you say, quietly. and then, bolder, "i don't know if i'm just weak because i haven't been here very long, but this never seems to affect you like it affects me…"

"you're not weak, baby," another kiss, a gentle brush of his forefinger. "you're just an angel." 

"but you're an angel too," you insist. 

haechan's chest aches. 

you continue, "and you never seem to grow weak whenever we…whenever we…" 

"that's because you're always so good for me." now burying his face in your neck, he pulls you closer in his arms, closing his eyes so he can breathe you in. "you're too good for me, angel." 

you relax in his hold, and when he next opens his eyes, you're glowing as bright as all the stars in heaven put together. 

x

haechan thinks of the way you reacted when he first called you angel, weeks ago, in this very club. 

now, the air is sticky, and it clings to his skin too uncomfortably. bodies press up against him, eyes seeking his, but he doesn't meet any of them – his mind in a completely different place. 

your skin glows gently even in the dark bedroom. 

you lie on your chest, wings folded against the sheets, your face turned towards the side so that he can see just a hint of your features in the shadows. even as he backs towards the door, he feels the inexplicable urge to wake you from your sleep, if anything to see your eyes open again, drink in the doe-eyed sweetness. the entire time he sweeps through your apartment – carelessly erasing the traces of his presence, picking up his jacket, pocketing shiny trinkets he bought you, — he wishes you would wake up and cling close to him the way you always used to in the mornings. longing to feel the light on his skin again, your touch hesitant and needy all at once. 

lust, envy, wrath, pride – all of these meant nothing to him, but watching the way they drained you, and realizing that by corrupting you he was killing you softly every night…it clawed at him like nothing ever had before. 

looking up from his drink, he's startled to come face to face with a girl he's never seen before. her smile doesn't reach her eyes as she reaches out to touch his hand, fingers drawing practiced circles on his wrist. 

he didn't tamper with your dreams the night he left, but still he wondered if you were dreaming of him.

he takes a deep breath. 

"hey, angel."

taglist: @jenomov, @91qowngus, @sundhaelatte, @jaemboi64, @sassy-author, @matchahyuck, @prdshobi, @smwhrinthehaze, @yesohhsehun, @chimiwimi, @haechaniesunshine, @hyukiebb (can't tag- sorry!)

[cinnamon-galaxies]

𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐲 𝐎𝐓𝐏 - 𝐑𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

I’ve been shipping my OC Mara with Alastor ever since I joined the Hazbin fandom, and over time, their story has grown into a detailed lore.

There are two AUs where I ship them. The first is a Human AU, which covers their full story from life to afterlife. The second is a Hell AU, where they meet for the first time after their deaths. I mostly use the Hell AU for short stories and drabbles that often contradict each other. It's just for fun and doesn’t have lore as developed as the Human AU. Everything I post about this ship or my OC takes place in one of these two AUs.

Mara and Alastor first met while they were alive. Mara was a singer at a local jazz club in New Orleans, which drew the attention of Alastor, the city’s most popular and renowned radio host. Long story short, they fell in love, got "married"*, and after dying some time apart, both were dragged to Hell. They spent a long time searching for each other until they finally reunited. Not only defying the concept of ’Til death do us part’ but also to make their marriage finally officially on paper*, they remarried soon after and since then spend their afterlives together.

Mara and Alastor are both similar and completely different from each other, balancing each other out perfectly. You can imagine the shocked faces when Alastor introduced her to the other hotel residents. The Radio Demon? Married? To such a beautiful and kind woman? What sounds like a bad joke at first soon develops into a surprising dynamic, with Mara keeping Alastor at bay while she supports the Princess of Hell in her ambitious project. At the hotel, she finds a new home where she shares a space not only with her beloved husband (who's been away for seven long years) but also with a group of chaotic sinners who quickly take a special place in her heart.

Mara means a lot to me. She isn’t a self-insert, but she’s a multifaceted character with traits that might surprise you but that also reflect some of my own. May it be hobbies, personality traits, quirks or music taste...

Given how much her and Alastor’s story has evolved, I’m considering creating a long-fic that portrays their love story from life to death.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

*Due to Louisiana’s anti-miscegenation laws, interracial marriages were illegal until 1967, meaning couples faced severe legal and social consequences: criminal charges, fines, imprisonment, or forced annulments. The only way for a non-white person to avoid these discriminatory laws was to "pass as white," which besides having a "white" appearance, also means hiding their background to present a white public image. But I don’t want that for Alastor.

While we know little about his human life or appearance, I don’t want him to "pass as white", as it would erase the significance of his Creole heritage, reducing it to a convenient plot point without truly honoring his cultural identity. I don't want his identity as Creole to feel like an excuse to explain away a privileged existence, while still allowing him to draw on specific cultural ties. Instead, I like to imagine him with dark brown, wavy hair, brown eyes, and naturally tanned skin – especially since nothing is canon yet.

This means that Mara and Alastor, as an interracial couple, either had to marry out of state or informally within Alastor’s Creole community. But since these unions weren't recognized by Louisiana law, I refer to them as "married" rather than legally married. In Hell, they re-enacted their wedding not only to defy the standard of "til death do us part" but to finally make it official on paper. Even if that means exchanging rings a second time.

[nadas-dirthalen]

I Saw Solas's Origin in an Achievement Icon and It Opened My Eyes on 15 Years of Lore

— PART FOUR: if you haven't read previous parts, do it now! —

[ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ] [ 9 ] [ 10 ]

Welcome, friends and travelers! I wanted to get some thoughts recorded before Veilguard's release so I could see if I am right about an absolute BOATLOAD of theories I have.

In short: I saw the achievement list when it was released. I have seen the backstory hints for Solas included in said list. AND MY MIND WAS BLOWN.

You have been warned: THIS COLLECTION OF THEORIES INCLUDES SPOILERS FOR EVERY DRAGON AGE GAME AND ALL PROMOTIONAL MATERIAL UP TO AND INCLUDING OCTOBER 18, 2024.

Come sit down with me. Make a nice cup of tea (and hide it from Solas). We've got a lot of unpacking to do.

(this photo isn't the spoiler, I just like it.)

Today's Discussion: What the Chant of Light Confirms about Solas, Mythal, and the Evanuris at large.

Ohhhh boy. Here's where we're really getting into the, 'If you haven't read the previous parts, you NEED to go do that, otherwise what I'm about to say will make a lot less sense,' portion of this series. So seriously: the previous parts are linked above. Go look at those.

Caught up? Good.

Today, we're going to look at how closely the Chant of Light follows everything I just talked about with Titans, the Fade, spirits-as-thoughts, and Solas-as-lyrium-spirit. For this exercise, I'll mostly be drawing on material that I have access to (both volumes of World of Thedas, plus my knowledge from all three games) but supplementing with what the Dragon Age wiki has compiled, as well.

Rather than go through the Chant from beginning to end (as I simply lack the space here), I'm going to break it down into topics.

Our topics are as follows:

Who—and What—Is the Maker?

The Word "Forgotten" in the Chant

The Maker's First and Second Children

The Jealous First Children: Demons Seeking to Conquer the Earth

Archdemons and Titans

Yes, I Have to Talk About Shartan

Veilguard Predictions Based on the Chant of Light

Who—and What—Is the Maker?

For anyone who hasn't gone through the whole thing and read every verse, let me begin by saying: the Chant of Light is a story writ by many hands over the history of Thedas. Some of it is (allegedly) written or recorded from Andraste herself, but many verses are taken from outside sources—even adapted from other cultures' legends.

But overall, it is a story that the Andrastian faith believes in: one with approved verses that the Chantries teach all their faithful. The Chantry has been a brutal organization throughout Thedas's history, but I still find value in using the Chant to piece together different takes on Thedas's ancient lore. Whether the events happened as described is up for debate, but they are historically significant, and I would argue that they contain kernels of truth no matter if one believes in the prophecies from Andraste or not.

To properly discuss whether the Chant follows my theories, we first have to ask ourselves: what does the Chant suggest that the Maker is? To do this, we have to look closely at its creation story, and from the eyes of the one who supposedly witnessed him: the Canticle of Threnodies, and the Canticle of Andraste.

Right in Threnodies 1, it says this:

(4) From the waters of the Fade you made the world. As the Fade had been fluid, so was the world fixed.

Immediately, we can see that lyrium plays a major role in the Chant's creation story. If that's true, then the possibility exists that the Chant aligns at all with any of my prior theories. If that is the case, then the Chant of Light might aid us in predicting what's to come in Veilguard—especially with characters like Solas, so intertwined with Titan lore and lyrium.

From here, I went looking for additional references to the Maker, namely in Andraste 1.

(8) Lo! My eyes open'd, shining before me Greater than mountains, towering mighty, Hand all outstretch'd, stars glist'ning as jewels From rings 'pon His fingers and crown 'pon His brow.

The Wellspring of All said, "None now remember. Long have they turned to idols and tales Away from My Light, in darkness unbroken The last of My children, shrouded in night."

"World-making Glory," I cried out in sorrow, "How shall your children apology make?

Of course, we cannot forget one of the Chant quotes that Inquisition made famous!

(11) Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls. From these emerald waters doth life begin anew. Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you. In my arms lies Eternity.

Through all of these examples (and more that I simply do not have time or space to cite, with Veilguard so close), I can tentatively conclude: the Chant of Light is likely hinting to us that the Maker is a Titan.

But to test this theory, I wanted to go one step further. I wanted to see if the Chant of Light would suggest that the Maker is one of the Forgotten Ones.

The Word "Forgotten" in the Chant

To accomplish this next piece to the best degree possible, I actually moved the entire known Chant of Light into a google doc. Here's what I found when I looked for applicable mentions of forgot/forgotten.

(4) From the waters of the Fade you made the world. As the Fade had been fluid, so was the world fixed. (8) And so we burned. We raised nations, we waged wars, We dreamed up false gods, great demons Who could cross the Veil into the waking world, Turned our devotion upon them, and forgot you. —Threnodies 4.

We'll get to those "great demons" in a moment, but for now I want to draw attention to: "Turned our devotion upon them, and forgot you." That's one mention of the Maker being forgotten, in the first stanza we know from the Chant.

The Maker appears to Andraste (7) Eyes sorrow-blinded, in darkness unbroken There 'pon the mountain, a voice answered my call. "Heart that is broken, beats still unceasing, An ocean of sorrow does nobody drown. You have forgotten, spear-maid of Alamarr. Within My creation, none are alone." — Andraste 1

This comes from the first stanza of the Canticle of Andraste, and describes the first time the Maker appeared to her. She is describing what she is seeing: "There 'pon the mountain, a voice answered my call." She is evoking mountain imagery here, and even though she doesn't mention an abyss in this verse, it does come up elsewhere in the Chant (as we have seen).

That, and the Maker speaks to her: "You have forgotten, spear-maid of Alamarr. Within My creation, none are alone."

For one, we have a mention of forgotten, again. But perhaps even more crucially, we have this concept of "none are alone" within the Maker's creation. With everything I know now, I'm thinking of the concept of Isatunoll: the hive-mind feeling experienced by Dagna, Valta, and Harding.

(13) "World-making Glory," I cried out in sorrow, "How shall your children apology make? We have forgotten, in ignorance stumbling, Only a Light in this darken'd time breaks. Call to Your children, teach us Your greatness. What has been forgotten has not yet been lost." (14) Long was his silence, 'fore it was broken. "For you, song-weaver, once more I will try. To My children venture, carrying wisdom, If they but listen, I shall return." — Andraste 1

Another mention: Andraste addresses the Maker as "World-making Glory," which references the saying that Titans were the first Shapers of the world. Then, she says: "We have forgotten [...] Call to Your children [...] What has been forgotten has not yet been lost."

Again: references to the Maker as a being that was forgotten. Another reference to lyrium, in asking the Maker to call out to people. This reference is further enhanced with the Maker referring to Andraste as "song-weaver," suggesting that these songs are how she can speak to the Maker.

And to top it all off: "What has been forgotten has not yet been lost" is answered with, "If they but listen, I shall return."

Listen, for so long, made me think of commandments. Listening to the Maker's will. But now? Now I think we're supposed to think of listening to the Maker's song.

(3) I have heard the sound A song in the stillness, The echo of Your voice, Calling creation to wake from its slumber. (4) How can we know You? In the turning of the seasons, in life and death, In the empty space where our hearts Hunger for a forgotten face? — Trials 1

Just like Andraste has heard the song, the echo of the Maker's voice, calling creation to "wake from its slumber." It could not be more deliberate than that!

Another mention, also, of a "forgotten face."

To me, these mentions of forgotten affirm that the Maker is one of the Forgotten Ones, and is definitely a Titan. That tells me that, until I am proven otherwise, I can read the rest of the Chant of Light as though Maker-as-Titan is true, and can see what other developments stem from that initial truth.

Namely: What does the Chant say about spirits and people, in relation to the Titans?

The Maker's First and Second Children

To understand the (possible) creation of the spirits and the elvhen, we are back to the Canticle of Threnodies, stanza 5. The first of the Chant's Canticles, it's an introduction not just to the text, but to the world of Thedas as understood by Andrastians.

Again: it may not be a precise literal description of events, but I maintain that if the Chant of Light truly didn't matter, BioWare wouldn't have made it that long, or paid as much attention to cadence/meter as they did.

The crux of the earlier portion of this Canticle is that the Maker produced two sets of children, and the first eventually grew envious of the second (more on that later). For now, let's examine what is said of the creation of the Maker's first children.

(1) There was no word For heaven or for earth, for sea or sky. All that existed was silence.

I am going to interpret this one very liberally. It is not said that there were no heaven, earth, sea, or sky—but that there was no word for those things. That, I interpret to mean that there was no distinction between heaven and earth. Remember that, throughout codices from ancient elvhenan, "sky" often refers to the Fade, and "earth" often refers to the Titans' domain, the Abyss, or the waking world.

Either way: there was no Veil, and so there was no distinction between the Titans' domain and the Fade.

Then the Voice of the Maker rang out, The first Word, And His Word became all that might be: Dream and idea, hope and fear, Endless possibilities. And from it made his firstborn.

There are two things worth noting here:

the "Voice of the Maker" is something I interpret to mean the song of lyrium: the song of the Titan that the Maker is.

"Dream and idea, hope and fear/Endless possibilities" sounds a lot to me like the Maker is creating his first children with thoughts. Thoughts conveyed through the song of lyrium, maybe?

Originally, these "first children" famously showed no sense of ambition. They were given the Fade, but did not do anything with it. They only reflected what already existed. (Though I do want to note that this city apparently had lyrium for cobblestones.)

He called forth A city with towers of gold, streets with music for cobblestones, And banners which flew without wind. [...] But their songs Were the songs of the cobblestones. They shone with the golden light Reflected from the Maker's throne.

The Maker apparently realizes his mistake: only giving the spirits the Fade.

The realm I have given you Is formless, ever-changing.

But the solution to that mistake?

So the Maker turned from his firstborn And took from the Fade A measure of its living flesh And placed it apart from the Spirits, and spoke to it, saying: Here, I decree Opposition in all things: For earth, sky For winter, summer For darkness, Light. By My Will alone is Balance sundered And the world given new life.

The Maker took living flesh from the Fade. That's not the thoughts existing in the Fade; that's the lyrium from the Fade. To that living, now sentient lyrium, the Maker spoke, and declared opposition in all things.

Now sky and earth are separate things. The Veil is not yet created (we'll get there), but we have this concept of two opposing schools of magic, like earthbending and airbending (to forever keep with the A:tLA examples through this series).

So far, this is lining up with my previous theories. But, what, exactly, are the Maker's second children made of?

(5) And no longer was it formless, ever-changing, But held fast, immutable, With Words for heaven and for earth, sea and sky. At last did the Maker From the living world Make men. Immutable, as the substance of the earth, With souls made of dream and idea, hope and fear, Endless possibilities.

Now, the waking world is immutable, and there is opposition in magic. And from that opposition, the people are created. Not humans, but people. Their bodies are "immutable, as the substance of the earth" (meaning lyrium, I believe), "with souls made of dream and idea, hope and fear/Endless possibilities."

The exact same phrase: the Maker's thoughts are the souls of his second children, just as they were the first children's entire being. This proves that the people of Thedas have spirits for souls, but also that all spirits come from the Maker's thoughts.

When I tell you I almost choked, realizing that.

But I still want to ask the Chant of Light: in all this story, where do we find the Evanuris?

And the Chant has answered in full.

The Jealous First Children: Demons Seeking to Conquer the Earth

When I first read the Chant of Light, I had not pieced together that heaven and earth were synonymous with Fade and Abyss. Now that I have, I see the Evanuris plain as day in Threnodies 5.

(7) Now, with their Father's eye elsewhere, the firstborn At last created something new: Envy. They looked upon the living world and the favored Sons and daughters there, covetous of all they were. Within their hearts grew An intolerable hunger. Until, at last, some of the firstborn said: "Our Father has abandoned us for these lesser things. We have power over heaven. Let us rule over earth as well And become greater gods than our Father."

In the codices of the Trespasser DLC and the Temple of Mythal, there are constant references to the Evanuris wanting to tame or dominate the Titans, the "Void," or the "land." The ancient elves ask Elgar'nan to help them "tame the land." Mythal is praised for "striking down the pillars of the earth." The Evanuris, namely Mythal and Elgar'nan, carried on an endless war with the Forgotten Ones.

The Chant goes on.

(8) The demons appeared to the children of earth in dreams And named themselves gods, demanding fealty.

Remember part 2 of this series? Remember the Mythal lullaby from the Deep Roads portion of Trespasser? (I was lovingly informed about a small mistranslation, which I shall correct here.)

Ir sa tel'nal Mythal las ma theneras Ir san'a emma Him solas evanuris Da'durgen'lin Banal malas elgara Bellanaris, bellanaris. Isatunoll Mythal grants you dreams Lyrium within Becomes Solas evanuris Little stone boy Never granted (connection to many spirits) Forever, forever

Cole says, "He didn't want a body, but she asked him to come. He left a scar when he burned her off his face."

It sounds exactly like the Chant describes: Mythal feeding dreams to Solas, only to bring him into a body he did not want, and apply vallaslin (a geas?) that he did not ask for.

Therefore? The Evanuris are the Maker's first children, as far as the Chant of Light is concerned.

But I've still got questions. Namely: What came next?

Archdemons and Titans

As for the Evanuris's eventual fate—being imprisoned at the same time as the Veil was created? They've employed interesting wording.

And a mighty voice cried out, Shaking the very foundations of heaven: "Ungrateful children! I gave you power To shape heaven itself, And you have made only poison. As you crave the earth, the earth shall be Your domain! Into the darkness I cast you! In tombs of immutable rock Shall you dwell for all time."

I question who this "mighty voice" belonged to. I do not believe Solas is the maker, but I do wonder: was Solas acting in conjunction with his Titan here? During the exact moment of the creation of the Veil, he still would have had access to his non-sundered Titan. Would he still have heard the song/call, and made the Veil at the Titan's behest?

Regardless: this piece of the Chant speaks about the imprisonment of the archdemons in the Abyss, the same domain as the Titans.

It goes on to specify what happened next:

(11) Those who had been cast down, The demons who would be gods, Began to whisper to men from their tombs within the earth. And the men of Tevinter heard and raised altars To the pretender-gods once more, And in return were given, in hushed whispers, The secrets of darkest magic.

This serves to confirm a theory that I'd held for a long time: that the Evanuris whispered to the priests of old Tevinter through their archdemons. Trapped in their fade-jail, they could not act themselves, but may have used their archdemons as puppets in order to convince the Magisters to come open the door to the Golden/Black City, that they might be released.

Overall? It sounds like the Chant of Light exactly confirms every one of my theories on the Titans, the Forgotten Ones, spirits-as-thoughts, the Evanuris, and the Archdemons. I may not have been able to examine the entire Chant here (can you imagine how long this post would be if I did?) but what I have presented so far exactly aligns with my theories from the last instalment.

Now, the question you're all here for...

Yes, I Have to Talk About Shartan

I know, I know. Shartan is one of the most widely debated figures in the Chant. And I'm sorry to say, I'm no more sure than the rest of you.

But I've never quite believed that Solas himself is Shartan. He says he slept for millennia after the creation of the Veil, after all. But I cannot deny all that we know of Shartan: that he freed elven slaves, that he held fast in his convictions, and that he is rumoured to have been Andraste's lover.

It seems damning, doesn't it? Surely someone so invested in freedom must be Solas, especially an ancient elf who looks so much like Solas himself.

But what if Shartan wasn't one person?

(3) My Maker, know my heart: Take from me a life of sorrow. Lift me from a world of pain. Judge me worthy of Your endless pride. — Transfigurations 12

We can guess that the Maker is a Titan. We know Solas came from a Titan. We can guess that Solas was still able to hear his Titan when the Veil was created. We also know that there were many lyrium coffins in the Deep Roads during the Descent DLC. The Maker's first children whispered to many stone-spirits just like Solas.

We also know the Forgotten Ones are named by their qualities, just like spirits and demons.

The Maker instructs Andraste to carry wisdom to the people, that he might return. Who is to say that the Maker is not the ultimate Wisdom/Pride aspect, and we just haven't seen it confirmed yet?

And if there are many wisdoms and prides that are tied to the Maker-Titan, then there is absolutely reason to believe that any of those lyrium-spirits-turned-corporeal elvhen could strongly resemble Solas not just in appearance, but in convictions.

Two elven translations point me to this conclusion, as well:

Ar-melana dirthavaren. Revas vir-anaris: this is Fen'Harel's secret password for the spirits in Trespasser. I believe it loosely translates to, "I now promise knowledge. Freedom for we-Anaris." • This translation GREATLY interests me, because Anaris is the name of one of the Forgotten Ones. "We-Anaris" implies that there are many elvhen that come from Anaris, and these specifically may be the slaves Solas was trying to free.

Shar•tan: I believe, as with all the Evanuris, this name is actually a title. While I could not guess the meaning of the word "Shar," I do know that the word "tan" means "three." • I wonder if Shartan, therefore, is a collection of three people, potentially all from the same Titan as Solas. Anaris, maybe?

Veilguard Predictions Based on the Chant of Light

Whew! I have a lot of Veilguard predictions, but to keep this post from being tumblr-breakingly long, I'll keep this list to the ones that come strictly from the Chant of Light.

I believe we will find out more about the Chant of Light by not only being in Minrathous and knowing Neve, but by seeing the Chant's events referenced by the ancient elves and even in Solas's memories.

I believe we'll get, if not confirmation, at least a hint on whether Solas's Titan is the Maker.

I believe that, since Veilguard is all about prophecies coming true, that we will hear the "Voice of the Maker" ring out to us in Veilguard—likely through a Titan waking. • I'm going to bet that this is in or near Kal'Hirol, the thaig closest to Kirkwall, which is near where the red lyrium idol was found in DA2.

I believe we're going to find out more about the potential link between Andraste and Mythal (there are bajillions of theory posts out there about them; I didn't have time here!)

I believe we'll see an Archdemon's old prison and see how that (potentially) affected Titans and/or their hearts.

I believe we'll see someone who remembers being made out of lyrium—even if that someone is Solas.

---

As ever, if you got this far, thank you!! All your engagements on these continue to make my week.

Also: I am trying my hardest not to consume full-game-review spoilers! As these reviews go live tomorrow (10/28), you may see me not reading my notifications/replies, and appearing here only to continue posting my theories.

But if you feel like sticking around anyway, stay tuned for: The Evanuris Story So Far, As Best As I Can Guess It.

[mammonscheeks]

my obey me mc / oc headcanons ₊⊹

✎a/n: these hcs are all based on how MY OWN mc or oc would be! so don't be mad if the specific ones don't apply to you :) my mc's name is akira (she/her) but imma just write mc for these!

₊⊹ knows a surprising amount of biblical mythology lore since she's middle eastern/levantine. --"mc, how did you already know our sins based on our names?"

₊⊹ did NOT believe that she was actually in hell when she first came to the devildom. it took an exasperating week for all the brothers to convince her they weren't just some weirdos cosplaying demons in someone's sweltering ass basement

₊⊹ she and solomon fuck with demons by claiming false things about humans --"mammon, did you know that humans can speak to each other through telepathy? look, I can tell you what solomon is thinking right now!"

₊⊹ she carries around chocolate gold coins and gives them to mammon whenever he's good. he tries to pawn them off to lesser demons as a "luxury human world treasure"

₊⊹ is not as cautious as she should be. literally walks around the devildom at night, alone, no matter how many times the brothers tell her not to. talks back to lucifer with no fear. stands up for herself when lesser demons threaten her.

₊⊹ diavolo invites her for tea once a week to talk extensively about humans so he can learn more. --"mc, please tell me what 'slay' means... and is it true that your intestines are 20 feet long?"

₊⊹ she goes to barbatos's kitchen once a week to bake with him and luke. the three exchange recipes from their own respective realms. the kitchen has only lit on fire once so far!

₊⊹ whenever she has lots of work or assignments to do, she quietly slips into lucifer's room. the two listen to classical music and silently study together. --"I'm glad that my study habits motivate you to do better, mc."

₊⊹ is always the last to hear about pop culture news/does not keep up with celebrities. leviathan is shocked to hear that he knows more about human celebrities than her. --"mc, you're telling me you haven't heard this album yet? this is literally from YOUR realm!"

₊⊹ immediately feels sleepy/tired whenever mammon or simeon walks into the room. this is because they're her favorites and she feels the safest around them, so she lets her guard down when they're near.

₊⊹ begs simeon to take her to the celestial realm so that she can talk to the angels that she has prayed to since she was little. she has a fascination with angels after growing up immersed in religious mythology. --"mc, I promise I'll take you once this exchange program is over."

₊⊹ makes dark jokes with belphie about what he did to her. she's not petty, it's just her humor. --"what are you going to do, belphegor... kill me again over this sushi?"

gonna link some picrews i've made of my mc!

[leverage-ot3]

okay I’ve seen a lot of posts about sterling just being crowley and. guys. the implications just hear me out 😭😭😭

bending lore slightly here BUT let’s say crowley’s body was once inhabited by a human and crowley is possessing the body (maybe he kills the initial inhabitant bc he doesn’t care)

but he still has the guy’s memories. he doesn’t bother keeping up appearances with his ‘ex wife’ because he is too busy building up his hell empire. BUT for some reason he can’t quite identify, he still feels something towards his ‘daughter’. he lets the divorce happen and doesn’t feel the need (or desire) to fight for custody, but he can never quite forget her, to cast her out of his mind for good

some hijinks ensue with the leverage team. it’s mostly because even a grind culture demon wants some off time every once in a while, and for him the insurance investigator stuff is more of a hobby. interacting with the leverage crew is very low stakes for him, and honestly, quite amusing. they aren’t on his level power-wise, but that ford character gives him the mental exercise he hasn’t experienced in, well, he can’t even remember

he can feel their frustration and anger when they learn he has become employed by interpol and feeds off it. it’s great, and relaxing in a way he is never able to achieve while conducting hell-related business

one year he gets wind that olivia is in a really bad situation associated with his ‘ex wife’s’ new husband. he’s selling vital hardware to terrorists, and while that might actually be the kind of chaos he would normally support or be entertained by as the king of hell, something feels wrong about letting olivia stay anywhere near that man

he calls upon the body’s adversaries. he wouldn’t admit it, even under duress, BUT he feels slightly fond of them. nate for the three dimensional chess they play, sophie for her ability to charm and disguise, parker for her chaos and slightly unsettling nature (it’s the autism swag and being bad with human interaction but he doesn’t know that lol), hardison for his unapologetic intelligence and eliot for his hardened violent past and take-no-shit persona (he’s fun to tease)

they perform exactly as he expected, right into his carefully crafted plan. and then olivia is under his care and things get more complicated. he keeps her FAR, FAR away from anything related to the supernatural (heh). no one can find out about her, ESPECIALLY not those imbecile hunter brothers (if for nothing else than the embarrassment in revealing he has a weak spot)

not sure how to work it into this post but I also want to add that somewhere along the way he develops feelings for nate and sophie. the frame up job is near and dear to my heart and you can’t convince me that isn’t fighting as flirting behavior. his interpol persona is more of a side hustle so to speak, but he finds it fun (relaxing, even) to fill that role. there aren’t any obligations of other demons, bothersome hunters, or anything like that. nate and sophie are low stakes, except, they aren’t, really. they make him feel things he can’t ever really remember feeling. his heart beats fast when sophie sat in his lap and cradled his face, his hands sweat when nate gives him that certain smug look. he’s exasperated by the way they can run circles around him like no one else has ever before. they annoy him and get under his skin in a way no one else can and it’s infuriating. but also not, at the same time. maybe he likes it

and then the long goodbye job happens

hear me out and suspend your belief here for a second, because I can’t remember if crowley supernaturally knows when ppl die/are dead or not.

so nate is in interpol custody and the interviewer is obviously out of her depth. (most people are, when it comes to nathan ford.) he walks in and pours the man a drink, but he’s fuming. somewhere along the way he came to care about the team. hell and suffering is literally in his (official) job description, but he can admit (only to himself) that he admires what they do. it’s not for him, not anything close to where his passions and interests lie, but he respects their drive and purpose. he is also aware enough to acknowledge that they are a family, a group of misfits that never belonged quite anywhere except to each other.

and nate fucking blew it up, ruined it, because his vice is being so obsessed with the end game that he is apparently willing to let his team, his family, the people that anchor him to reality, die because the ends supposedly justify the means.

not this time. not to sterling crowley

he is enraged. he can admit within the confines of his mind that he cares for nate, for sophie, even for the other three (though nate and sophie have somehow made it a hierarchy where they are more important to him. which he will dissect later in private. maybe.)

nate let them die, he let sophie die, and for what? the black book? hell below, crowley would have made things easier somehow, if he knew that this was where nate’s sights had lied. he would have prevented this somehow. he wants to have prevented this. he doesn’t want any of them dead and is too afraid to check and verify because that would make it real. the idea of sophie (or any of them) somehow making it to hell instead of heaven would probably break something in him he might not be able to reapir fully.

he yells at nate- he’s angry. hellfire burning in his heart because everything is ruined. the deaths aside (however hard it is to set them aside in his mind), nate will not recover from this, not ever. this will be the start of the end, he is sure. a miserable, guilt-ridden existence where he drinks himself to death and nothing will save him. it plays out in crowley’s mind in a thousand different ways that are beyond painful to conceptualize, even in theory.

the story starts to unravel and there is a game afoot. a solemn, miserable, infuriating game because the con is still in session because parker is alive and in the building- which sets another fire alight in his chest. ‘parker even know you got hardison killed?’ he rages for her grief when she finds out. he knows it will double when she finds out eliot has perished, too, because he isn’t fucking blind.

but nate is a brilliant man, lest he forget too quickly. they are all alive, and somehow still the entire crew slips through his fingers. he’s not even angry (he never would have been- he doesn’t actually try too hard to catch them. it’s about the game, not the consequences). he lets them keep the black book because he’s fucking exhausted and honestly, they more than earned it.

‘now we’re even. tell sophie to drive carefully’. they will never be even, not really. crowley would never admit or agree that being human is the superior state of being, but that have made him feel human in a way he doesn’t actually mind. they keep him on his toes and match him in a way unique to them, they remind him that there are other things than the realm of hell. not necessarily bigger than hell, but maybe just as important in a different sense.

watching the van drive away, something inside him settles. when he walked into the interrogation room that day he thought this was the beginning of the end. it’s not the end at all, not an end to anything. it’s a continuation of their story. maybe, he thinks, a beginning to a new era in it

[another-lost-mc]

Gonna be completely honest tho. Like yes they are hot in the vampire au but I would be terrified. Like I hate needles and all of that and idk I just feel like I'd be too freaked out for it to be enjoyable? Does that make sense??

A/N: Honestly, same here, anon. lol I think my own MC would find the whole situation exhausting mentally if not physically. There's a lot of valid reasons why any MC might not want to get caught up in this whole mess.

In a lighthearted vampire AU, the characters might feel that vampirism is more of a nuisance than anything else. Ultimately, I think they'd still try to prioritize MC's wishes and comfort over their own needs. It would motivate them to find an alternative solution for blood/feeding (especially if it were a long-term/permanent condition).

This Sucks! | Why They Don't Want to be Vampires Vampire!DEMON BROTHERS x gn!Reader, 0.5k words, SFW Content warnings: references to canon-typical vampire behaviours including biting/blood-drinking. More from the vampire!au

─── LUCIFER

Lucifer doesn’t like depending on anyone for anything. This would be an extra burden for you personally, and the last thing he wants is for life at his side with them to be even more challenging. His brothers would be unbearable if he tried to claim your blood for himself, and he knows in his heart he doesn’t want to share you. (A trivial concern is that his fondness for Demonus, even a blood-infused version of it, might be ruined by vampirism—it’s one of the few luxuries he allows himself to indulge in.)

─── MAMMON

Mammon's too greedy to share you. If you don’t want to donate your blood, that’s even better—that way no one gets to feed from you! He’s also going to be busy figuring out how he can capitalize on blood alternatives if the condition isn’t temporary.

─── LEVIATHAN

Levi's disappointed because vampires in anime are so hot cool, but he’s intimidated by the physical intimacy of it. Oh, and he hates the thought of others wanting to feed from you too. (What if you compare them and you prefer feeding the others more than him?!)

─── SATAN

Human pop culture is so inconsistent with their monster lore. Satan understands that the reality of feeding a vampire (or in this case, seven of them) is daunting and less appealing than the fictional version you've read about or seen in movies. Besides, he has enough anger management issues to deal with—bloodlust would be an extra hassle. He's one of the first to volunteer to find a better a solution for feeding if the vampirism is permanent.

─── ASMODEUS

Asmo doesn’t want to drink anyone’s blood. Wouldn’t it make his breath smell? What if it gets all over his clothes? If he drinks from you in his bed, the stains might ruin his expensive Devilmoth silk sheets! He might seem superficial about it, but his biggest complaint is the possibility that feeding might scar you or hurt you in some way. Leaving his mark on you sounds appealing, but not like that—especially if you're already hesitant about the idea. (He's secretly worried one of the others might try to talk you into something you don't want to do, and he wants to make sure his own judgement isn't clouded so he can help protect you.)

─── BEELZEBUB

Beel has so many issues with hunger and self-control that the thought of being hungry for your blood upsets him a lot. He’s so scared of hurting you, and when he’s out of control with hunger it's difficult to stop him. What if the others can’t subdue him in time? What if—? No, he doesn’t even want to think about it.

─── BELPHEGOR

Belphie assumes that drinking blood would act like a stimulant, so the last thing he wants is to feed from you. Why would he do something that makes him more energized and makes you tired in the process? (He’s not sure he can convince you to only feed him, and the idea of having to share you with the others—except for maybe Beel—is intolerable.)

[writingwithcolor]

Romani character portrayals in fanfiction

Rroma Dick Grayson, batman fanfiction

endoftheworldhere asked:

I wanted to write a fanfiction about what Dick Grayson’s life would have been like if he wasn’t adopted by Batman. It was going to have him dealing with the bad parts of Gotham City and interacting with various criminals and rouges, But I was worried that could come off as stereotypical or racist since he’s been portrayed as at least part Romani and I wanted to include some connections to his heritage as a way he clings his parents after they died so traumatically. Any advice?

The thing about Dick Greyson is that he was retconned into being part Romani, and the writers did so in a very stereotypical way. A lot of Romani people have talked about this, especially on Tumblr, and opinions do vary about how he should be written. Many think it’s best to ignore his “heritage” and just write him as white, while others disagree and think that his heritage is important representation and should be written, but more respectfully.

I honestly don’t know my personal opinion on this, but I will say that there is a huge stereotype about Romani people being criminals. If you do plan to write him as part Romani, make sure to avoid these tropes. Otherwise, I would just nix his Romani heritage.

-Mod Tess

Romani woman, curses and Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Anonymous asked:

I'm struggling a bit with a piece of fan work right now, and I was hoping you could weigh in. In Buffy season two, there's a character named Jenny, who we first meet as a techno-pagan computer science teacher, who helps Buffy and co deal with fighting demons and stuff. Only the thing is, she's Rromani. She's there to make sure a family curse stays on a vampire who killed someone beloved to them a century ago (mostly to protect people from him if Angel/Angelus gets uncursed), which everyone gets mad at her for not telling them when he loses his soul and goes on rampage.  Ordinarily, it's not hard to write her, because until that arc, she's a fun character who happens to be a Rroma woman, and as other characters use magic, that doesn't stand out. But the whole curse thing, and the depiction of her family we're given, (and the way a canon redemption arc for Angelus I can't stand starts with him getting a soul as a punishment for killing a Rroma woman in 1898), and the everyone being mad about deception all just feels like many negative stereotypes.  What would be your thoughts on depicting Jenny, and on what to keep in mind trying to rewrite how she was shown in the show. [Ask redacted for length]

Let me just start out by saying that I am not very familiar with Buffy, so thank you for the context. I think your best bet here would be to drop the curse plot line altogether, as that’s a huge stereotype about Romani people. I think it’s ok to have her do magic, as long as other characters also do, and although I do think the vampire stuff is also a stereotype (a lot of vampire lore is supposedly taken from some Romani folklore, and Romani people are often associated with vampires in pop culture), I think it’s fine given the context of the show.

-Mod Tess

[crunchesmunches]

I feel bad shit insane talking to a wall about dragneel brothers 😭

Anyways silly brother hc that would fit into lore if zeref didn’t have a curse and joined fairy tail and wasn’t actually insane

-Zeref definitely constantly makes sure his out fit is correct and tidy like he doesn’t mean to do it but he just feels more in control of himself that way. And when he sees Natsu’s clothes always messed up and messy he constantly fusses about it after he fights and brushes Natsu off without realizing

-Natsu is zerefs biggest weakness if that weakness was he just doesn’t wanna hurt Natsu emotionally or physically at all like Natsu is his baby. Zeref could never actually hurt Natsu badly sure Zeref is fully aware Natsu can handle anything but if he’s fighting and someone put Natsu infront of that attack he would immediately stop it, Natsu is very important to him and Natsu knows that to. which why he used it to get stuff from Zeref

-I know zeref made lullaby as a whole killing thing but it would be really funny if zeref also created things or other instruments that reminded him of people he liked especially Natsu so there’s a flute out there that’s just for Natsu but will never be found cause it won’t be played unless Natsu finds it. There’s tons of zerefs instruments and creations out there that aren’t for anyone but Natsu

-Natsu likes to draw not well and he draws like a five year old however whenever it does it just makes him incredible happy and carefree (this is totally not based off of that scene in 100 year quest when Natsu wrote in the library books) and he doesn’t tell anyone about it but he likes to draw people sometimes it’s good sometimes it’s not but it just makes Natsu happy and whenever zeref sees Natsu draws he always sits next to him and watches happily

-Natsu’s very short and I mean like 5,3 and it’s cause Natsu has always been small he’s just small and zeref cant get over how funny it is because Natsu convinced half the people he knows he’s taller than he is by just not standing directly next to them it just makes zeref giggle sometimes Natsu literally needs to climb on him for missions but Natsu being small helps them do a lot of things like sneak into vents or something

-zeref is a big hugger and wraps his arms around Natsu head and in a death grip he rubs his face in Natsu hair. Sometimes zeref will lift Natsu up to see things and he always hugs Natsu before lifting him up on his hands

-Natsu and zeref both speak a different language and it’s not a normal language it’s a mix of old language from there town and draconic which makes a weird language no one knows because the whole town was wiped out. I also believe this town had there own customs and beliefs and coexist with dragons just didn’t care for them which is why they knew draconic but so jumbled with some other language Natsu and zerefs culture and language is just incomprehensible to anyone. This town celebrated life and death which is why zeref is named after death and Natsu is the summer it’s like after a volcano erupts new life begins.

-igneel was fond of zeref and wanted zeref to stay with him when he dropped Natsu at his door and zeref still does not know why

-Natsu and zeref hold hands all the time to not lose each other

-zeref has dragon parts like Natsu but more demonic from his curse but he’s rarely seen with his demon/dragon tail

-Natsu and zeref act so similar sometimes there both bubbly in the same way boyishly happy to be around each other

-would elfman Mirajane and lissanna be the opposite of ignia zeref and Natsu I think they have a “who are the better siblings battle

-Natsu and zeref hate ignias “nieces” (the gold dragons ancestors) because they thing there such great siblings when there just the worst versions of them

-Natsu and zeref can never take things seriously there always giggling and confused by the target

-zeref has a cat called misery which is the opposite of happy and is a Scottish fold cat and also purple (ignia also has a cat who’s a lynx or leopard who can’t stand ignias ass)

[aromanticannibal]

Anyways. Headcanons based on whatever progression this is.

I said headcanons and I lied. Over-analyzing time.

First thing I was thinking about: how are Katsuki and Izuku childhood friends when they are very clearly from different cultures slash tribes slash villages. The idea I ended up with is that Katsuki's people move a lot since they have dragons and they temporarily settled near the Midoriya's house at some point.

Very quickly because I made a post about this before : at some point All Might's sword breaks or is broken on purpose by All Might and its two parts are given to Katsuki and Izuku (this is somewhat lore accurate/canon to the fantasy art series). I headcanon that Katsuki and Izuku then personalize their swords more, keeping the blade intact while modifying the hilt and such (see last illustration: Katsuki's sword is more visible that Izuku's but both have blades in a similar shape as the All Might/One For All sword. There's also that Izuku has another sword at his hip and Katsuki's original sword, the curved one, isn't the one that's out).

Shouto and Enji are so fucking weird.

Shouto's demonic situation in the second illustration clearly represents his left side being associated with his father (bad) and his hatred (also bad). I'm gonna say this is a curse passed down from Enji and created from hatred - the more hate you feel, the more the curse consumes you, but you can learn to wield the curse's power if you let go of your hatred. Both Shouto and Enji are fighting the curse in the second illustration (explaining Enji's fuckass costume hiding his flames, probably) and both of them let go of their hatred (Enji for All Might, Shouto for Enji) in the last illustration.

I also assume given their outfits that they're royalty, if not the king and prince, other similarly important guys.

I think heroes are knights, maybe, probably.

All Might is likely some kind of knight or warrior, Iida and Yaoyorozu are knights, Jirou is a knight, Aizawa is kind of a knight, maybe? It's not a fullproof theory I'll be honest, not all pro-heroes or heroes in training are knight coded in the fantasy series.

The ugly ass dragon?

The ugly ass dragon in the second illustration seems to be an ally to Katsuki and Izuku (and therefore the others) but for reasons you'll understand every soon it's fucking dead. I'm assuming it got killed by villains. Whoops.

So the reason I think it's dead is uh. Yo? Katsuki and Izuku's shoulder pads in the last illustration sure are purple and scaly huh? And the ornaments on Katsuki's new sword sure are orange and horn-looking, huh?

Anyways, the dragon got killed and they used its body for armor and weaponry.

the green capes?

The last illustration has Izuku, Shouto, Ochako, Iida and Aizawa wearing the same type of green cape (Ochako's is a little different but it's still the same green). So this is the Dekusquad plus Aizawa, I'm gonna go ahead and say this is Izuku's party, RPG style. Aizawa is probably here to mediate and make sure they don't die. Katsuki isn't there because he likely is leading the other party.

Kirishima glow up? hello?

He looks so fucking cool in the last illustration I don't even have anything to say. He also looks closer to Katsuki's clothing style, so I'm gonna say Kirishima is part of Katsuki's tribe slash village slash whatever the fuck but left to become a knight and then started getting more in touch with his culture when meeting Katsuki.

Stuff I point out without expanding on it:

Hawks' wings are gone, whoops. Interesting that the fake ones are white and not red. Dove much?

Yaomomo baby that armor isn't protecting you. However you are safe anyway because you are clearly some kind of magic user as well as knight and probably have some kind of force field in place.

Ochako's hat updates to have horns. Minachako goodness. /hj

Kaminari is a cute bard! He's such a romantic. Holding a flower and shit

Not visible in the picture I have. Guys I know we all love the I on Katsuki's arm but I'm sorry it's likely the number 1 in roman lettering rather than the letter -i. He's the number one. He's so goofy.

[aroacenezhaanddainsleif]

so i was rewatching the end of lmk s4 with some friends today, and i noticed that in 4x10 peng says smth to nezha like "let the demon child come out and play!" and like. if i knew more about nezha lore thatd probably be quite concerning to me as a lorehead. and you seem knowledgeable. so. any thoughts?

oh boy. (cracks knuckles) it's late and i should be sleeping but I'm also sad so Nezha interest go BRRRRR

i will say for any accurate/culturally referenced info, go check out @ruibaozha - i am simply summing up as much as i can and some stuff is missing/not elaborated on

let me break down the basic elements of the Nezha myths.

Nezha is born his mom and his military dad, Li Jing, and his older brothers Muzha (second) and Jinzha (first). but Nezha is like fucking. superpower baby for some reason? Apparently the heavens decided to bless Li Jing with a powerful son for his military prowess, and Nezha's mom, Lady Yin(?), was pregnant for 3+ years. Then Nezha popped out as a goddamn ball of flesh. His dad attacked him because hey! Flesh ball! But then Nezha's ball split open and he jumped out as an already formed young child (ages often unclear- ppl say he's 7, or 12, and in some cases he died after only 3 days(?) alive.) either way, Taiyi Zhenren swoops in to be Nezha's master, and everything is fine for some time.

at least til Nezha kills Ao Bing. this part of the myth is really what defines Nezha as a "demon child" or not. in Fengsheng Yanyi/Investiture of the Gods, ONE of the older/more well-known written versions of his story, Nezha washes his sash in the East Sea and causes the dragon palace to quake. Ao Guang understandably gets pissed and sends up his general to ask him to stop, who Nezha kills. then Ao Guang's 3rd son, Ao Bing, who Nezha also kills (and rips out his tendon to wear as a belt)! sometimes Nezha also kills a demon, apprentice of Lady Earth Flow, miles away on accident because he randomly fired a bow. yet in another cases, Nezha is the hero- a demon came up to eat children at the shore, and Nezha obviously killed the dude, then Ao Bing, same thing. but in other other versions, Nezha was friends with Bing and accidentally killed him while playing due to being ultra powerful...

and then Ao Guang threatens Nezha's town, because the kid killed his son. (sometimes Nezha goes and strangles Guang before he can talk to the Jade Emperor, so...) Guang demands an apology and/or Nezha's life or he'll flood the whole mountain pass. and Nezha decides to slit his own goddamn throat to apologize to his parents and "return his body to them". Aka: he commits suicide at like, seven(?)

From here on, stuff differs: Li Jing is a shitty dad (like he REALLY really hates Nezha. calls him a curse and beats him), Nezha gets a temple and Jing burns it down, Nezha gets reborn in a lotus body by his master and/or Buddha, goes on a murder rampage against his dad and Muzha (beats up Muzha w/ a golden brick), is forced to submit to his dad through a Golden Pagoda, making Li Jing the Golden Pagoda Bearing Li Jing, sometimes Jinzha gets to flog his brother, and Nezha's basically a bitter fire god (child) put into the literal armies of heaven. he's also got his 6/8-armed and 3-headed war form in the myths...

now, this is a very long yet still EXTREMELY short explanation of the myth(s), and the "message" really boils down to what version you tell- the boy who started stuff by (unintentionally) murdering people, or the hero. but a lot of the main point of nezha's myth was originally about filial piety, and can be told as a story to remind kids that the parents are always superior, but in more modern myths and stories, Nezha has ended up shifting more into a symbol of rebellion. He's the protection deity of children: the outcasts and the demon children, the kids who question things and are loud and outspoken and aren't what people (especially their parents) want them to be. Nezha's story entirely depends on region, context and intent, which makes him a very versatile figure.

Now, put that into LMK?

I have a lot of hcs abt why LMK Nezha is the way he is, but my main one comes down to that "demon child" line. I like to think that Nezha was basically an uncontrolled force of war power and killed Ao Bing (regardless of the situation).

But then he got put into heaven and 1. realized how he acted and had to deal with crushing guilt and self-hatred and 2. got groomed into a (then) child soldier 👍

He was still a general, but learned to channel all that destructive power into being a protector and how to defend instead (ex: his shields, sealing power, etc). He takes his current job very seriously bc he sees it as his only reason to still be worth existing. he also dislikes Wukong bc he sees far too much of a younger him in Wukong; doomed for destructiveness and chaos. this is also why i put parallels to Nezha and MK because. yeah. (and imo, although i know Nezha paid it back w/ his suicide, I'm a bit surprised Mei wasn't taught to hate him, due to how much family matters to dragons...)

so aka, my hc of: "dude was literally always seen as a demon child/symbol of destruction, and therefore after being used as a literal war weapon and then being made to guard a map for ages (probably because he didn't want to harm anyone else), DUDE'S GOT ISSUES!"

[aanthirin]

please infodump about vivayth <3 if you gotta narrow it down, her relation with hircine and/or mehrunes dagon

sits down. right so-

the bases of vivayth's entire worldviews, her developments and delusions, her copes, it can all be led back to her introduction to lycanthropy. she couldn't really reconcile her zealous, century-long faith in the tribunal with the fact that she had become exactly what she was taught to hate, what she was taught stands against everything dunmeri society was: an abomination. she's long since made peace with that and happily embraces the title of 'demon' a lot of people toss her way, but a lot went down for that to happen... (more info below)

she went through a lot of effort to try and figure out exactly why this happened, why the living gods would allow hircine to infect her so, and allow her to remain this way, to be shunned by their servants and soldiers, their hands, their very mouthpieces. when she couldn't turn to her estranged family nor those she loved, she was led down a very dark road by another once-zealous faithful corrupted by the forces of oblivion, so it was only inevitable that she'd crack. after the things she's seen and done, and when she realized exactly who and what she'd become, who wouldn't?

she spent a long time searching for answers, uprooting secrets that would've been better left of alone. many sleepless nights were spent poring through texts that scrambled her mind or destroyed themselves upon being read, or going out of her way to beseech the long-dead for answers. between all the scraps of knowledge that she collected, she came to believe that hircine was a servant of mehrunes dagon, his personal huntsman to test the mettle of his armies (and later on she develops the idea that perhaps hircine himself is a sort of demiprince or daedra lord under dagon's service, or an avatar of dagon himself). this is based on old lore jsyk, like battlespire-era

this mostly happened because she's very morrowind-minded from a metaphysical point of view. even though she's spent a significant portion of her 180 years alive dedicating herself to studies on the metaphysical, mystical and occult after a brush with a renegade wise-woman—which theoretically should not even be remotely bound to something so arbitrarily mortal like culture—she can't help but be very conservative and patriotic in mindset and that warps a lot of her perceptions of reality, creating some very, uh, eccentric interpretations of the most foundational aspects of the aurbis. that is all to say her mind struggled a lot to reconcile an inherently outlander consequence such as lycanthropy with an explicitly dunmeri foundational belief, that being the house of troubles and their role in the theology.

soon enough she started to believe that dagon had a direct hand in the events that cursed her with lycanthropy, and that it's one of two of oblivion's sacred tools to help mortals (more importantly, her specifically) break free from the shackles of limitation imposed by the aedra (the other being vampirism, which she reveres FAR more than the comparative self-loathing she feels toward lycanthropes)

[dreadfutures]

Tevinter Nights: dramatic summaries

Back in March I decided to read a story from Tevinter Nights out loud to the DA FanFic server every Monday night. I figured with the number of stories, we'd hit August right as we finished - hopefully it'll be a big month for us fans!

I just love this anthology so much - there are many gems and entertaining bits among them, and they're criminally underrated. A lot of the DA side content is hit or miss for a lot of people, but seriously, some of these short stories could be published on their own without any knowledge of Thedas and still entertain!!

Here are the summaries I wrote ahead of each reading. :) All of the TN short stories are independent of each other, so take a look and perhaps you will find one you enjoy. I tried to keep them largely spoiler free :)

Also, check out @larkoneironaut 's Tevinter Nights art project! They're enjoyable in their own way :)

Three Trees to Midnight, by Patrick Weekes

After the Qunari take Ventus, prisoners are put to work chopping wood on the outskirts of Arlathan Forest. Myrion, a human mage, and Strife, a city elf who joined the Dalish, are shackled together at the ankle as a work pair. While their relationship starts antagonistic, they are quickly forced to work together to escape. This thrilling adventure is one of our first looks into the mysteries of Arlathan Forest, and the Antaam’s advance south—despite the rifts forming in the Qun’s ranks. Notably, Strife and his companion Irelin appear in another short story, Ruins of Reality, and Dragon Age: The Missing.

Down Among the Dead Men by Sylvia Feketekuty

We finally see Nevarra in this tale, and what better place to start than in the Grand Necropolis itself? Audric Felhausen, our POV character, is a city guard who is tasked with protecting a Mortalitasi mage during an investigation about some restless undead in the bowels of the Necropolis. We see how spirits and demons wander, and get stuck, in the bodies kept there -- and how possessing a body, even a long-dead one, can have significant effects on the spirit. On both a cultural and metaphysical level, this story gives us a TON of lore. And Audric, our hero, is equally curious and unsettled by what he learns. By the end you'll see why so many people are desperate for him to be a companion in DA4!

The Horror of Hormak by John Epler

Do you love Wardens? Do you miss the dark fantasy elements of Origins? Do you like the aesthetic of Dark Souls, with giant stone doors you push open with all your might to reveal a giant boss? That's the vibe that John Epler (DA4 Creative Director!) brings to this story. Wardens Ramesh and Lesha are tracking down a group of missing Wardens in Nevarra--a group, it turns out, that does not want to be found. For better or worse, Ramesh and Lesha plunge into the darkness and discover a horrifying truth with massive implications for the ancient history of Thedas... and the Evil Gods about to wake in DA4!

Callback by Lukas Kristjanson

Follow Sutherland and his crew of honorable adventurers back to where they began: Skyhold. Now defended and empty but for a handful of Chantry chosen caretakers, the fortress that once housed the Inquisition has gone dark, and Sutherland is tapped to investigate. We see Skyhold and by proxy the Inquisition itself from the perspective of one of the little guys, drawn to it because of ideals and encouraged to become their best selves. In doing so, we also see how the events of this world can shape Spirits in unexpected ways, with consequences for a world where the Veil is thin. Callback is full of callbacks and cameos from a surprising group from DAI, and an entertaining and perilous mini adventure in its own right. This is a love letter to Skyhold, to the Inquisition, and a meaningful counterpart to the memories of Skyhold kept in its frescos.

Luck in the Gardens by Sylvia Feketekuty

Hear a tale of glory and daring straight from a Lord of Fortune themself! A genderfluid, disguise-wearing, acrobat-turned-swashbuckler regales us with an adventure from the streets of Minrathous. Spy on secret meetings between Magisters, learn what the Venatori have been doing since Corypheus' defeat, and tremble in the face of things "past the Veil of our world," neither demon nor spirit. Who are the Lords of Fortune from Rivain? What lurks beneath Tevinter's streets? This may be the story that inspired many people's wishlist for the next Archon and the next Black Divine -- some beloved, familiar faces join our hero to face the terror in the gardens!

Content Warning: Body horror, Eldritch horror, mentions of Tevinter slavery

Hunger by Brianne Battye

Tevinter Nights returns to Warden business in Hunger -- or does it? Evka Ivo, a heroic warden, and her junior recruit Antoine, have to decide what counts as Warden business when there's not a Blight ongoing. As they make their way to Weisshaupt to answer their summons, they decide to make a small detour to help a village in need. Evka and Antoine are our beloved dwarf/elf romantics who feature in a DA Day short story - as well as in the DA4 lead-in comic, The Missing! Whether they may be companions or contacts to our protagonist remains to be seen, but surely they'll make an appearance after such tales of heroism and compassion!

Murder by Death Mages by Caitlin Sullivan Kelly

We return again to Nevarra from a different angle this time! An agent of the Inquisition, the multiplayer necromancer Sidony, is sent back to the home country she resents in pursuit of a killer. We learn not only about Sidony's past, but about the political landscape of Nevarra: do the Mortalitasi run the country as shadowy puppet masters? What do the common people, and the nobility, think of the death mages from the Necropolis? How are Mortalitasi trained? And what does necromancy look and feel like to the characters in Thedas? In this tale of alleyway chases and gossip-filled balls, we get another glimpse into a country we may very well visit in DA4!

The Streets of Minrathous by Brianne Battye

We return to Minrathous to learn what's become of the Venatori since Corypheus's defeat. Join Neve Gallus, special investigator (and important cameo in The Missing comic), as she navigates the alleyways of Tevinter's great city in search of a murderer. Through her eyes, we see how less-privileged mages are viewed, and how the law bends to the whims of the rich and magical in Tevinter. Neve is joined by Tevinter Templars in her investigation, and their final battle is certainly eye-opening for anyone interested in fighting mages... What lies beneath the Streets of Minrathous, if not the Cekorax? Well, you're about to find out.

The Wigmaker Job by Courtney Woods

Lucanis Dellamorte, Master Assassin (and rumored heir to the First Talon) of the Antivan Crows, prowls the secret passages and unsuspecting rooftops of Tevinter with his cousin Illario on a contract. The target? A member of the Venatori with a... peculiar hobby. From shady hotel rooms to a grand gala and fashion show, get a look at the best of the Crows doing what Crows do best. This is one of the best stories in Tevinter Nights by far.

Content Warnings: abuse of slaves, body horror, torture, gore, hair eating, lots of pretty gruesome (if cathartic) assasination, and possession

Genitivi Dies In The End by Lucas Kristjanson

The remnants of the Inquisition approach a new group of adventurers and task them with finding the secrets of Fen'Harel. The Antaam - or at least, part of it - give chase. And Genitivi Dies in the End.

Herold Had the Plan by Ryan Cormier

Our Lords of Fortune are on the run as a mission to steal an ancient amulet goes awry. They have the amulet, they have their daring escape (a Lord of Fortune knows no other kind, of course) -- but Herold had the plan for what to do with the damn thing, and Herold is gone. As Starkhaven guards give chase, only one Lord of Fortune will survive the night. But will he make it to the mysterious Squire who hired them in the first place? Join us for an adventure that will break your heart and keep you on the edge of your seat.

An Old Crow's Old Tricks by Arone Le Bray

Tevinter has sent their finest centuri to defend the shores of the Nocen Sea from potential Qunari invaders. They stake their claim on the area and set up camp, enjoying the esteem of being the proud defenders of Tevinter. But it's not the Qunari this group of soldiers should fear.

CW: blatant racism against dalish, off screen massacre of a Dalish clan, many gruesome cathartic assassinations described in some detail, hand trauma

Eight Little Talons by Courtney Woods

Antiva's crown is weak. Antiva has no army. And the Qun is at its doorstep. Antiva's Crows may be the country's only defense, but they must act fast. Caterina Dellamorte, the fearsome leader of the Crows, calls all Eight Talons to meet in secret and solitude to discuss and prepare for the threat at Antiva's borders. But perhaps they should begin by looking for threats at home. All Crows are assassins. But only one is a murderer.

Half Up Front by John Epler

A former altus who chose to be disowned into poverty to be with her elven lover takes the job of a lifetime: steal a precious, powerful, magical artifact from the Archon's Palace itself. It was never going to be easy, but the former Altus Vadis couldn't have predicted that a Minrathous heist would bring her all the way to a port in Rivain, loyal to the Qun. What at first glance seems like a classic cat burgling caper actually might tell us a lot about the forces at play in Thedas—how perhaps the people on the ground may or may not be following orders.

Dread Wolf Take You by Trick Weekes