#but her acknowledging that made the game less fun because then the others had to think sbout slavery

[tellthemhowihopetheyshouted]

creds: jakeperalta

one thing about taylor swift is she will have you going "god these lyrics 😭🥺🙌😪" and "god these lyrics 😬🤨🫣" in the same song

[ronearoundblindly]

a kiss out of envy + ari 🤭

As promised, love, I give you...

frat boy!Ari Levinson x reader, one of my Valentine's Fics of 2024 (yes, you read that correctly, and no, I don't want to talk about it. 🥲 It's been a rough year lol.)

Summary: You and Ari want each other for all the wrong reasons.

Warnings (regarding both parts of the story) for drinking and partying, language, shitty behavior from...yeah everyone is a bit of a mess in this ngl (it's college), vaguely taboo mutual pining, and not-really cheating/implied cheating (applies to multiple people). This is an angsty weird fluffy sorta romance with an ambiguous ending because no one can communicate to save their f**king lives...BUT HEY! KISSES. MINORS DNI. There's plenty for younger readers on my Light Masterlist, but not here! WC 3.9k

A/N: This is the first half from Reader's perspective.

College is…predictable.

You spent the first weeks of your freshman year faking self-assurance you didn’t actually feel because confidence is sexy—or whatever the saying is,—and if you had to start from scratch, you might as well start from a place you’re proud of.

You made friends. You went out with your roommate. You stayed out late with lots of people you don’t know, and you smiled. Holy shit, did you smile…

The attempt to ‘get out there’ brought constant stress; you wanted to define your social life right off the bat, but good people are hard to find.

You officially decided you were looking in the wrong place for any good people while at the Lawn Party three-quarters of the way through your first semester.

Finally, you’d tried. You pulled out all the stops. You wore the nicer, trendier clothes that you splurged on for events just like this. You put on extra makeup, brought some with you in your little purse to touch it up, and when you smiled in the mirror seconds before running out of the dorm with your roomie, you really were self-assured. You felt sexy.

Though the party was outdoors, you stuck with just the one layer of a light-colored, flowy top, something whimsical and fun, something less useful and more useless, but that’s the idea of fashion, you suppose.

When the breeze caught the fabric, you imagined you were in a movie, one of those scenes where the heroine is about to get noticed by the man of her dreams.

That is exactly the opposite of what happened.

You’d been there all of half an hour, your roommate off to get drinks (after you whined and waited and stalled, hoping to strike up some conversation without partaking in the shared, bad decisions of the swath of 18-22 year olds meandering across a grass field behind the sports complex), when you heard a really loud, shrill laugh behind you and turned.

A red Solo cup crumpled against your boob and beer exploded across your chest, drenching your shirt and dripping grossly down your stomach.

“Wooooah,” the big guy still gripping shredded plastic drawled, eyes glued to your see-through blouse as it clung to your front. “Sorry.”

The girl who laughed with him put her hand up to her mouth. “Oh. My god.” Yet she just laughed more.

That was it. That was the sum total acknowledgment of your destroyed outfit and evaporated dignity.

“Ari,” someone called, startling your assailant to look away with his unresponsive, blown pupils.

You noticed a few drops of beer on his letterman jacket, so, sure, in comparison to your entire front half being soaked, that seemed a fair-and-equal trade for your embarrassment.

Then he was gone, the laughing girl following the asshole, Ari, and his idiot friends as they recapped the football game from…whenever.

You left the party once the waistband of your jeans felt soggy.

You spent longer washing your beer-sponge bra in the dorm sink than you did on the lawn.

Now you know college is a fucking joke. That party became a defining moment in your social life. You realized men—no, boys—like Ari will never care about you as you really are, and finally, you’ve accepted that you don’t want them to.

They don’t deserve to know you.

Sophomore year. Women’s Studies. Of all the fucking classes…

On day one Ari plopped down in the desk next to you.

He plopped because his whole left leg was strapped into a thick brace that kept it straight and jutted out, unable to fit in the tiny seat. He’s so tall his thonged foot tapped at yours beneath your own chair.

In your utter frustration and irritation (since the professor had already started talking), you automatically muttered an apology—to Ari, like some pushover—and moved your legs.

“Not your fault,” the footballer softly chuckled, taking another long moment to settle his crutches on the floor.

Were there no other seats?

You sighed and knew, you just knew down in your bones, that this would be a long damn semester. You also had every faith, however, that this fuck-boy classmate would do just about anything to stay in the course dedicated to his favorite pastime: women.

Though that was an assumption, Ari proved you right, and it sucked.

It took all your innate kindness and compassion not to spit on him. Honestly, the guy is just…dumb. When your eyes wandered every so often, you always found him looking confused, but he wouldn’t ask questions. Several times you caught him sneaking peeks at your notes. You just couldn’t take it.

He fell asleep in one class!

With the course final mere weeks away, the OCD part of your brain kicked in and shoved several sheets of important points you’d written down into his lap before he fully woke up.

His brace was off by then, but Ari still moved slowly.

Again, he looked so confused.

“I expect them back on Wednesday,” you said with a tight jaw, barely restraining the choice names you’d wanted to call him.

You’d been conditioned so heavily to be nice that you smiled at him. A small smile, yeah, but you smiled at the coddled asshole who did not deserve to pass the class. You should have let him fail. You should have let him lean harder on that damn scholarship.

Football held his dead-weight up this long; what’s a few more years?

Nearly the end of your Senior year. Off-campus. You’ve tried.

Socializing is a hit-and-miss game, and you’re learning that sometimes the miss happens slowly, without failed plays, with all the effort you could muster.

“Look, if we’re not doing anything here, then I’m going to the party. You coming? The house is two blocks away.”

Your boyfriend, Billy, stands with his apartment door open and his roommates calling to him from down the hall. He’s frustrated, you know that, but his frustration doesn’t negate the uneasy twist in your gut you get whenever he tries to take things further than making out.

Billy is perfect on paper. He studies hard, has a job already lined up for summer, is driven to achieve…and desperately wants to get laid.

He’s cute, totally adequate in that department, yet still, you can’t force yourself to let him touch you any more than absolutely necessary. You two have excellent conversations, multiple shared interests, and you have no words to describe your lack of…want. It eats you up right along with that twisting aversion to fuck him—because it is specific to him.

You don’t lack for interest in men, even if these are still boys around you. You’re attracted. Kinda. You thought attraction could grow from affection, too, but it hasn’t in months with Billy. It doesn’t make you think he lacks in some way; you feel lacking.

Maybe you lack sympathy. Maybe you lack understanding. Maybe you are just as superficial as those slutty girls you hate, the ones sure to be at this party. Maybe Billy thinks those girls will rub off on you if you’re surrounded.

There’s no one thing, no quantifiable logic; he just doesn’t do it for you. That won’t change.

Your relationship has an expiration date, and you feel it approaching.

Unsurprisingly, you can’t bring yourself to be mean and tell him an outright ‘no.’ It’s rude to say ‘I’m not attracted to you,’ right? You’re a nice person, and it’s not nice to hurt someone who hasn’t done anything wrong.

The heavy pain in your belly grows dense, but still, nothing changes.

The compulsion to be kind and quiet continues as you follow him out, tucking your hands under your arms so Billy won’t try to touch you, but it doesn’t matter. He walks a few feet ahead to keep up with his friends on the walk down the road to the Kappa house.

The two-story, plantation-style home is packed to the gills, making it hard to maneuver past the front door, and of course, the first person you recognize is a brother of the fraternity living there.

Ari Levinson stands halfway up the staircase overlooking the crowd like a king surveying his domain, hair grown long and a beard worthy of his fifth-year undergrad status. He’s wearing a button-up linen shirt as if he just walked in from the beach, perpetually sun-kissed skin glowing, the carefree blue fabric matching his eyes.

Asshole.

He probably showed up to his own damn house, cocked his head, and smirked.

“Y’all having a party?” he probably asked, chill as fuck.

Idiot…probably. You don’t know what happened to him after Women’s Studies, but you can’t imagine he got better. Nothing changes.

His queen-for-the-day leans into his ear, her chest covered only by a red bandana and not much below that hidden by a miniskirt.

What sluts. Both of them. They deserve each other.

He’s so sexy though.

His smile is bright while he doesn’t spill the contents of his red Solo cup on anyone beneath him on the stairs. Seems his drunk coordination has improved at the very least.

“Babe,” you hear yelled close to your ear, “take it!”

Billy shoves one of two cups he’s carrying into your hands and shouts to follow him. He wants to play beer pong in one of back rooms downstairs, a room with no space to stand and watch. There are no chairs, but Billy asks if want to play with him. In no reality would he think you’d answer ‘yes’ in this chaos, but then again, he hasn’t noticed you won’t take a sip of the drink you didn’t see poured either. That’s not even a trusting him problem; for all you someone else made the drinks for Billy, and then you absolutely don’t trust it.

If he can’t manage to notice your reticence, why should Billy care if you’re comfortable?

You yell back that you’re going to find a seat somewhere. Billy gets whisked away for the next partnered game, and relief washes over you.

The only open spot that isn’t a squeeze beside couples going at it in public is a bench underneath the cutout of the staircase. You take a detour to dump your cup in the crowded kitchen’s sink and sit alone for a while, people-watching, wondering vaguely about the king and queen above you on the steps.

Parties…are not all that fun when you don’t feel safe, welcome, or seen. College is predictable this way.

You’re not sure how much time passes before a light blue linen shirt invades your view.

Looking to your right, you don’t see anyone paying attention, and looking to your left you see a sloped wall.

He’s looking directly at you.

“Thirsty?” Ari asks casually, offering the only cup he carries.

You wave it off with a polite ‘no, thank you,’ even though that should be sketchier than your boyfriend getting you a drink.

Ari takes a huge gulp and shuffles his broad body onto the too-short edge of the bench beside you. He seems careful not to touch you or invade your space, the barest graze of a short-sleeve cuff brushing the skin of your upper arm.

Again, Ari tilts the cup toward you. “Jack and Coke,” he shrugs, lifting his eyebrows, “mostly Coke though. I’ve been here a while. You’re basically late.”

You can’t help but blurt, “you live here.”

“That is an astute observation, smartie pants,” he adds with a proud smile. Those, you imagine, might be the biggest words the guy knows.

You also imagine he wouldn’t drug himself with anything,, and worst case, Ari’s already much drunker than you.

You pluck the half-full Solo from his hand, your pinky running the length of his forefinger in the process, knuckles hard beneath callused skin, and take a small sip. He’s right about one thing; you can’t smell or taste any alcohol.

His smile softens. Your pinky tingles even after you return his drink.

“Where’s whats-his-face?” Ari scans the hall. “Probably getting you something better, huh?”

You can’t help but frown and sigh as he takes another swig of soda, pink lips nearly hidden beneath the hair of his beard, but you remember they are quite plump. He only had stubble in class two years ago. You shouldn’t be thinking about what those lips might feel like. Hell, you shouldn’t be sharing a drink with anyone because that’s more intimate than anything you’ve enjoyed doing with Billy recently.

Billy is pushy and inexperienced. Every time he goes to touch you, it reminds you that he’s desperate for it, but…not in a flattering way. It’s difficult to describe.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” you throw out loudly, keeping your guess silent. Perhaps hugging the toilet bowl?

Though a simple question, Ari looks somewhere between giddy and chided while contemplating his answer. He’s so dumb, poor thing. “Flying with the pigs,” he settles on.

“What?”

He repeats himself, and then, seeing your confusion, he leans closer to clarify, “she doesn’t exist. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Ow, rough gig bandana girl. That’s a little harsh: being fobbed off mid-party. Although, you aren’t exactly replacing her. Ari is just talking to you. It doesn’t mean anything. He’s sitting beside you, only a little closer than Women’s Studies, sharing a sip of soda. That’s all.

“So, genius—”Ari elbows you gently, taking advantage to stay arm-to-arm this time “—how you been?”

You notice you’ve been shrinking against the wall and straighten as best you can without looking as if you’re pushing your boobs out.

“Fine. Just…busy with school work.”

Internally, you groan, hating to sound so boring and feeding into this idea you are nothing but a bookworm.

Ari swallows the last of his drink, and you watch as his adam’s apple bobs lewdly—at least, it should be considered lewd with how the motion leads your eye down to the matching dark chest hair peeking behind the shirt collar. He scrunches his nose when the bubbles hit the back of his palate.

“Good. You always seemed happy. Bet you’re top of our class.” He emphasizes the year because he should have graduated already. Originally, he was a year ahead, but then he took a red-shirt year while injured. Ari doesn’t appear to mind that’s something else you share.

You bite your lip and wonder if he’s baiting you. If there’s one thing you’ve heard consistently in your whole young adult life, it’s that you ‘look angry’ and could ‘benefit’ from smiling more.

“I’m…somewhere up there, yeah,” you allow.

He points over his other shoulder and shimmies the empty cup in front of him. “You want one? What’s your favorite?”

For the first time all night, what you want has been considered. Not only if you want a drink, but which one do you want. Such a small thing, and yet the twist in your stomach unfurls a little. The drink itself doesn’t matter; the thought does. That, and being comfortable near him.

“Whatever you’re having.”

Ari flashes that megawatt smile of his and says he’ll be back in a jiffy.

The true value of a beautiful idiot is you don’t have to be on edge. Your basic knowledge of any subject (save sports) would read as genius to a guy like him…which is also why it feels so unbelievable Ari’s choosing to hang in this corner with you. He’s friends with everyone. He could get anything from anybody here. It’s nice to be wanted, not needed.

He returns with two cups, one with a couple shots worth of Jack Daniels, the other full of CocaCola. He looks at you for approval, hesitating in case you want just plain soda, and then makes a huge show of his ‘mixing’ skills.

Absolute moron did not consider the carbonation exploding with every pour back and forth.

It’s a horrible mess of foam and splashing liquid. Both his hands are dripping and sticky, but you laugh freely by the end. You never thought you’d see the day Ari Levinson spilling a drink wouldn’t be triggering.

Not even a fleeting image of that ruined blouse crosses your mind while you weakly clinkthe plastic cups together. It’s the epitome of the college experience in your eyes. For once, you aren’t upset by that fact.

You keep smiling, wrinkling your nose at the fizz bursting on the back of your tongue. You can’t help it.

Ari is a happy drunk, and he starts talking, joking with you, tucked away in your own little bubble.

It’s the most you’ve ever heard him speak.

He’s self-deprecating about the same, drunken party behavior that you have watched him participate in for years, and yet you dismiss that as nothing, normal even, and unconsciously nudge closer to Ari, your side flush with his as you bend to see the person he’s bad-mouthing now.

He seems to like the irony in that and chuckles as he says someone over there is getting sloppy, lifting his Solo to his mouth with a dainty pinky raised in defiance. He’s a goofball. You haven’t been so relaxed with someone in…months.

Both drinks are finished quickly, and Ari offers to grab more.

The warm buzz humming beneath your skin tells you ‘yes,’ but your higher brain function steadfastly puts a foot down.

“I shouldn’t,” you mutter, sounding undecided.

He shrugs. For whatever reason, you appreciate that Ari isn’t pushing for anything from you, but that’s exactly what makes you want more from him. He stacks the empty cups and mentions walking you home. He could use some fresh air, he says.

“I should find Billy…”

Ari rolls his shoulders and thinks, his eyes follow suit, scraping his peripheral vision for an alternative that never presents. He stands up, arms akimbo, dramatically squinting to ‘think’ harder.

“He was wearing that red ball cap, right?”

“What?” You’ve never seen your boyfriend don a hat once but suddenly remember the pong partner who pulled him over. “No, that’s Leo,” you scream over the noise now that Ari is standing a few paces away. “Billy’s in, like, a neutral t-shirt.”

Ari smirks, scanning. “One beige Billy, coming up!”

Off he darts into the crowd, much faster than you’ve ever seen a drunk man move, and you skitter behind, realizing Ari stops at the kitchen only when you slam into his back.

He throws the empty cups into the trash and turns to the sink, washing his hands with dish soap, drying them on his shirt, leaving darker streaks of blue.

“Okay, not sticky,” Ari beams, “so now we go.”

Easily, naturally, his hand scoops up yours, and Ari leads you deftly through the throng.

He’s holding your hand. It’s damp and rough and cool and warm all at once. And you grasp it. You’re holding his hand back.

Though tall enough to see over most heads, Ari takes a good long while to notice everyone because they keep moving about. 

Pointing with your still-joined hands, you shout to check the beer pong room, but no Billy.

You two amble through the entire lower floor, stopped several times by people greeting Ari, and he introduces you automatically. You hope none of these other drunk frat boys remembers seeing you hold his hand while asking where your damn boyfriend is.

Without fail, each friend asks if you two are together, and to his credit, Ari quickly changes to “have you seen a guy…” and describes Billy.

“Dunno, man. Check upstairs?”

Ari thanks them and glances at you, a look of defeat creasing his forehead.

He drums his free fingers on the banister. He hesitates.

“Wait here?” he offers but drops your hand and doesn’t pause for your reply.

Using a football drill tactic, Ari bolts expertly up the stairs while you get waylaid by some girls holding up a selfie-stick to make a video. They bitch at the angle, ignoring you, and have to reshoot. You can’t get past.

Yelling.

Suddenly, there’s lots of yelling coming from the packed second floor and a door slams. Half the people in the stairway and hall look up.

More crashing and thudding noises ring out.

With everyone frozen, you shove your way through.

“What the fuck,” you hear just as some guy backs away, almost knocking you down. “Who the hell do you think you are, man?”

Your legs take you inside though your heart lodges in your throat.

Ari’s got Billy pinned over a wrecked desk on the other side of the room while the girl with the bandana top stands by a bed, pulling down her mini skirt. She snaps for Ari to mind his own business, and Ari immediately shoots a glare at her over his shoulder, keeping Billy pinned beneath him.

“Beks, for fuck’s sake,” Ari starts, but quickly, the guy who pushed you in the hall cusses her out louder than anyone else.

“Serves you right for getting back with Erin,” Bandana Girl snaps.

“Eat shit, Rebekah. You don’t actually care!”

What…is going on? These people are nuts.

At least four more bodies squeeze through the door, all looking blazing-mad while you get pushed farther into the suffocating room. You’re bewildered and overwhelmed.

Blocker Guy lunges forward and shoves Ari off of Billy.

Your hands are up, claiming space to breathe, but there’s way too much going on. No one—not even you—can hear your voice crying to be let out.

Funny thing is, you aren’t crying for Billy to help you. Only after you yell for Ari does your brain process that your boyfriend’s fly is down, his jeans unbuttoned, too.

A large, rough hand grabs your wrist and yanks you to the door, barreling you both through the crowd to another room down the hall. It’s surreal to see the group descend on the fight like moths to a flame, drawn to watch what horrible thing these students will do next.

Ari man-handles you inside without hitting a light switch. It’s pitch black, but the closed door at your back muffles only a fraction of the commotion.

From the other side, you hear Billy calling your name, but Ari’s soft, panting breath steals your focus as it gusts across your neck.

His lips shift close to your ear.

“Don’t do it, smartie,” he whispers. “Leave him.”

The stale smell of beer wafts forward when you lean farther into that letterman jacket Ari keeps prominently hung. You feel the ribs of the cuffs against your bare arms until, suddenly, it’s the ridges of Ari’s rough fingers ghosting over your skin.

If Billy’s still screaming, you can’t tell. Your heart thunders in your chest as the hot breath rolling over you moves up your neck and over your jaw.

He’s right there.

He’s right there. He’s drunk. He’s stupid. He doesn’t matter. You don’t matter to him. It’ll never work and it doesn’t have to. This could be so simple.

You envy how easy this is for him, always another girl around the corner, in the next room, who will want him, but you can’t bring yourself to feel bad about wanting to use him. He’s right there, willingly, single or not, sober or not, and so you grip the soft linen of his shirt collar and tug him straight to you.

It doesn’t matter how sloppy you are, how shy or how forceful you get, because you live like him in this moment.

Ari doesn’t care about anything. Self-assured. Confident. Sexy. Popular. He doesn’t have to care.

Now, neither do you.

[Next Part]

⬅️ Steve Rogers and a kiss where it hurts

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[cheemscakecat]

Scout unspoken character development.

So you remember how Scout was absolutely struggling to work out how to ask Pauling on a date, and didn’t have the confidence he needed to do it properly? In Expiration Date?

*loud silence*

It makes sense that he’d struggle, because dating requires you to be more vulnerable emotionally and that’s like the last thing he ever wanted to do growing up. His brothers saw being emotional as a weakness, and he still thinks like that because those were his role models.

That’s why he didn’t help Spy with the last wishes. He’s still got that mentality that he’ll be seen as weak if he admits that dying in three days bothers him. But if he makes fun of Spy in front of the boys, Spy’ll be the one seen as weak, not him.

To date somebody, you have to admit that you’re attracted to them, if not in love. He can’t admit that part, which is why he tries to be causal about asking Pauling out.

Like, even when he can tell that he made Spy furious, the awkwardness of that emotional situation makes him try to laugh it off and stay casual, not give him pause.

How much you wanna bet that “I’m sorry”, usually said sarcastically or with fake sincerity is the best he’d get from any of his brothers growing up? No discussion beyond that about what the brother should be sorry for, just “I’m sorry” because Ma is making me apologize.

That’s why he just moved on with his request for help, instead of going into a deeper apology and acknowledging why Spy is upset. He doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know that you’re actually supposed to, and he’s not a weakling for feeling that way.

He can’t accept the weakness of being bad with women, even though that’s why he’s in the smoking room asking for advice. That’s why he lies about the ratchet girl at the chicken place, who probably never existed.

What’s interesting is that the only thing he retained from his dad’s training was the dancing, which is an expression of emotions. He started out doing a casual, cheery boomer dance that doesn’t require a partner, with no risk of hurting somebody else if you mess up. But the dance Spy taught him requires you to be careful and move with another person, and is a lot more romantic.

But we know that music is something he loves, to the point that he hopes his favorite musician is secretly his dad.

But that’s not the only important development he makes in this short.

Scout doesn’t know how to respond to that, because if he ever tried to bring up what one of his siblings did to make him upset, they’d just laugh at him or say “I said sorry, what else do you want?”. But he cares about this woman and how she feels, so when she brings up what he did to make him say more than sorry, he can’t just move past it like he normally does.

He got so close to spitting it out! But what we did get is good progress, because he had to be more honest than usual. If she was paying even the slightest bit of attention to him, she’d be able to see what he’s trying to say.

He’s trying so hard, she doesn’t even know. I hope that someday he finds a girl that does like him, because she sure as heck doesn’t.

What’s interesting is that we have voicelines that imply he’s getting less uncomfortable flirting, even if it’s in his usual Scout way.

He didn’t act ready to take his shirt off around her in Expiration Date. That’s Scout getting more comfortable around her. So is him playing her dorky board game that his brother’s would clown him for looking at.

You have to remember, Scout is the youngest and considered the runt of the litter by his stupid siblings. He acts like he likes the way his arms look in Meet the Scout and talking to Spy in the smoking room, but he’s always comparing himself to other guys. He wouldn’t take that shirt off around most people, is what I’m saying.

I hope someday Scout goes through the character development he needs to find a real girlfriend that likes him. [And also not rely on physique as a tool for flirting].

[flowerandblood]

Don't make me laugh (Oneshot)

Brother, Lover, Son Alternative Universe

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • fem!reader ]

[ description: Aemond doesn't consider Borros Baratheon's eldest son or youngest daughter to be his friends, much less his adoptive siblings, yet somehow, whenever something happens, they torment him first. As if they couldn't leave him alone. Comedy and short scenes from Aemond's quiet life in Storm's End with Royce and Lady Baratheon. ]

[ warnings: none, maybe some angst + just cringe and giggling + Aemond being horny for his girl, I put reaction gifs with captions for each of the characters between the scenes just for your fun ]

This oneshot is an alternate reality from The Impossible Choice Series where, according to Aemond’s words in Chapter 49, he is sent to Storm’s End by his father when he is still just a child. It shows what would happen and how it would affect Aemond and Lady Baratheon, what his relationship with Borros, Royce and her other sisters would be like. This chapter stands apart from the main story and is a big, long “what if”. 

Brother, Lover, Son AU Masterlist

My other works: Main Masterlist

____

"Let's see how well you know me, little sister." Royce muttered, his younger sister shifting next to him in her chair, curious. Royce loved card games. Usually when Aemond was bored and just didn't feel like reading he would join them.

They would meet in Royce's commons, because it was the safest space where no one disturbed them.

Usually he didn't have to take part in the games themselves, he could just be an observer and commentator. This suited him because he didn't risk humiliation and didn't feel he was socialising with them.

Royce split the cards half between himself and his youngest sister and explained that they would be answering each other's questions written on the pieces of paper which were to test their knowledge of each other.

Aemond was nominated as the person to write down the results on the sheet and he accepted this role without much objection.

Royce pulled out the first card and grunted, leaning comfortably against the back of his chair, his sister plucked one grape and put it quickly in her mouth, their figures illuminated by the warm light of the fire burning beside them in the fireplace.

They agreed that whoever answered correctly first six questions would win.

"What's my favourite colour?" He asked, and she made big eyes and swallowed loudly what she had just eaten.

"…do you have a favourite colour? You don't even know it yourself!" She said frustrated seeing his confusion, he scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"You don't have a favourite colour." She said with confidence, taking another grape into her mouth with a loud crunch.

Royce nodded at him that, in fact, that was probably the real answer, so he drew a single line next to her name.

This time it was she who took the card in her hand and swallowed loudly before beginning to read.

"What do I like to do most in my free time?" She read raising an eyebrow, looking at him with amusement.

"To annoy me. Next. You can write down a point for me." Said Royce pointing with his chin to his card. He smirked and drew a line next to his name.

"What, no, stop it, it's not fair!" She squealed heartbroken, lowering her hands in disapproval, he and Royce tried not to laugh.

"Be quiet. What time do I get up?" He asked lowly, and she snarled.

"Much too late. Next." She said with a smile of satisfaction, reaching for another card, Aemond nodded his head acknowledging that she was right and drew a line next to her name.

"Cross it out, it's not true! You two are hopeless. Well, never mind." He waved his hand acknowledging that he didn't have the strength to argue seeing their faces full of mockery.

"My favourite word or phrase." She read out loud and he mused, scratching his chin.

"Don't tell my father." He said and they both burst into laughter, looking at each other with amusement, she pressed her lips together and furrowed her brow, sighing heavily.

"You two are awful." She mumbled, offended.

"Yes, yes, very awful. Next. Are you writing this down or not?" He scolded him, and he reminded himself that he was supposed to be writing down the results, too involved in their exchange of words.

Royce sighed heavily, looking at the next card.

"What do I dislike most?"

His sister looked at him uncertainly and pressed her lips together, clearly having no idea herself what the answer to that question might be.

"Difficult words." She finally said with a mischievous grin on her face and giggled. Royce looked at him, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Did you hear that? She's insolent. Have you ever met such an ill-mannered young lady?" He asked with a sneer, Aemond shook his head, sighing, expressing his disapproval.

"No. I'm shocked to discover it myself."

______

Royce:

Lady Baratheon:

Aemond:

_____

Knock knock.

He opened his eyes wondering what was going on and if he had misheard, night all around him. He figured it was just a dream, but flinched when someone knocked on his chamber door again.

"Brother. It's me. Please open." He heard her whisper and sighed heavily, thinking about what she wanted from him at this hour. He stood up and put his trousers on quickly, tucking his chemise into them and opened the door, looking at her with displeasure.

"Couldn't it have waited until morning?" He said lowly, impatiently, pretending he felt nothing at the sight of her in just her nightgown.

"It's about Royce. Quickly!"

They both stood in front of her brother, lying on the floor in the middle of the circular throne-like hall, babbling to himself, completely drunk, Aemond had never seen him like this before.

"What happened to him?" He asked quietly, crouching beside him, grabbing his arm, but he pulled away, mumbling something, curling up, apparently wanting to fall asleep in this place and position.

"He babbled something to the effect that he had just left for a while to go into town and someone must have added something to his wine. He woke up in the middle of a forest road with no money and so it's a miracle he somehow made it back." She whispered terrified and heartbroken. He sighed heavily, running his hand over his face.

"We have to get him out of here, father can't find out. I can't carry him alone!"

So they both made an attempt to drag his numb body up the stone stairs, putting his arms around their necks and embracing him, but his body seemed terribly heavy, his sudden, loud mumbling echoing throughout the fortress.

"Shut the fuck up! Imbecile." He growled low and she pressed her lips together, terrified, looking around and apparently praying in spirit that no one would hear them.

Somehow they managed to drag him into his chamber and throw him onto his bed, both of them panting loudly, all hot and sweaty.

Royce flopped onto his stomach and mumbled "I'm about to throw up" before flooding the entirety of his bedding with the contents of his stomach.

____

Royce:

Lady Baratheon:

Aemond:

_____

"I am organising another hunt in two days' time. It's supposed to be beautiful weather, but it won't last long, a maximum of three days, beautiful stags have been seen near our forests recently, I'm told." Said Lord Borros between one bite of roast and the other, he, his youngest daughter and Royce only nodded, accepting his words with calmness, knowing that, as always, he would want to take them with him.

"I want to go too, Father!" Floris called out, he and Royce exchanging knowing, apprehensive glances between them.

"Then so do I." Said Cassandra, and he sighed heavily, taking a sip of wine from his cup, already knowing that he would be dying on this trip.

Since Cassandra and Floris were going to travel, Maris and Ellyn couldn't be worse, so they rode in the large carriages behind their horses, not yet knowing what awaited them.

"I feel sorry for you. You're not likely to get any rest." Said Royce, and he only threw him a cold, discouraged look that said it all.

"My prince, I think my necklace has unfastened. Would you please take a look at it?" Floris asked walking up to him as he sat with Royce under one of the trees, drinking wine from the clusters. She crouched with her back to him, exposing her neck.

He looked away from her, staring ahead and took a deep sip again, weary.

"No."

Floris threw him a hurt, discouraged look and stood up, walking away with a quick step, offended.

"You don't have the soul of a romantic, brother." Royce sighed disapprovingly, taking another sip of wine.

"You don't say." He growled, glancing at the entire group of women standing by the carriages, waiting for the tents to be set up. "This is a fucking nightmare."

Their youngest sister ran up to them, already changed into her hunting attire, crouching beside them.

"What are you talking about?" She asked lightly, and Royce patted him on the shoulder looking into her eyes.

"Our brother is going to die today. Or he's going to kill someone. He hasn't decided yet."

_____

Royce:

Lady Baratheon:

Aemond:

_____

"I said already, no."

"Please, I beg you, just this once!" She mumbled, looking up at him with those big eyes, and he looked down at her impassively.

"No."

"Please, I'll pay you, I'll be your servant, please!" She whimpered running after him as he moved ahead down the corridor again, unwilling to let him alone, insisting he say something in Old Valryia's language.

He stopped, hearing her suggestion.

"You will bring me breakfast for a week, bowing and titling me properly." He said with a glint in his eye, and she pressed her lips together and swallowed loudly at her humiliation.

"Very well." She said softly and he furrowed his brow.

"Very well, what?" He asked impatiently, and she squirmed under her breath, unhappy, not liking to address him like that, driving him mad, calling him her brother all the time.

"Very well, my prince." She mumbled, and he smirked, looking at her with superiority.

"Ossēninna ao mēre tubis lo gaomā keligon jenigon nyke daor. (I will kill you one day if you don't stop annoying me)." He said lowly, and she blinked, tightening her lips, a blush of embarrassment on her cheeks.

"You just insulted me, didn't you?"

____

Lady Baratheon:

Aemond:

_____

"Where did you learn to shoot a bow so well, my lady?" Asked Erryk Selmy, the younger son of Lord Selmy, a vassal of the Baratheon family, who had travel with him to Storm's End so that his father and Lord Borros could come to an agreement over some woodland to which another lord was also claiming.

Royce and Aemond noticed that Erric had found a great liking for their younger sister and was constantly following her, and by the fact that she followed them everywhere, they were condemned to his presence.

"My father taught me." She replied lightly, not seeing his solicitations and efforts as an attempt at flirtation, thinking he was just curious. "And you, do you only practice hand-to-hand combat or do you also shoot with a bow?"

She asked, looking back at him, the young Lord Selmy straightened up, clearly wanting to grow in her eyes, and grunted quietly.

"I shoot a bow, but not as well as you, my lady." He said warmly, and she blushed in embarrassment, not expecting such words, lowering her gaze.

Aemond rolled his eyes, turning back, unable to look at it.

"I'm gonna throw up." He grunted to Royce, and he chuckled low, scratching his chin.

"The boy's in love. What can you do. It must be those big eyes of hers." He said amused. He pressed his lips together impatiently and snorted.

"Lord Erric, wouldn't you like to face me? It's a shame to waste such an opportunity." He said with a smile that did not reach his eye as he walked over to the table on which all sorts of weapons were lined.

He reached for his favourite sword, light and handy, and turned it easily several times in his hand, glancing at the boy's terrified face.

He was shorter and certainly more inexperienced, looking at him with big eyes.

The youngest daughter of Lord Borros looked at him, frowning her eyebrows, her lips uttered silently the words he understood perfectly.

'Don't you dare.'

He grinned even wider, stepping closer to them.

"Come, do not be afraid. I won't hurt you." He said with amusement, a wide grin on his lips.

Lord Selmy approached the table with an uncertain step, swallowing loudly, not knowing what to do, Lady Baratheon looked at him furiously, gestured with her finger to the ground, her lips conveyed another message to him.

'Stop it.'

He smiled sweetly at her, leaning on the hilt of his sword as if it was the happiest day of his life.

He watched her lips form words again, her hands clenched into fists.

'I will kill you.'

_____

Royce:

Lady Baratheon:

Aemond:

_____

"I understand that since I'm here, we're going to walk into town at night to have some good beer." Said Royce, patting him on the shoulder, on the exact same evening he, his betrothed and their family arrived in King's Landing to be with them at their upcoming nuptials.

"What?" He asked in disbelief, his betrothed hopping up in her chair, grabbing his arm with her hand.

"Yes, please! Do you remember the time we slipped out of Storm's End and got lost in the woods?" She asked amused, Royce laughed out loud at her memory, and he pressed his lips together.

"Unfortunately yes." He muttered lowly, turning his head away impatiently. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

Royce sighed heavily and rolled his eyes.

"Gods, why do you always have to whine so much? After all, if the three of us go out, at night, disguised, what's going to happen to us? I mean, surely we're not going out to do anything wrong? Yes or no?" He asked reaching out his hand in front of him, he felt his future wife's hand tighten on his.

"Please. Please, let's go as a threesome, there's no telling if we'll ever have this opportunity again." She said pleadingly, lifting his hand and placing a warm kiss on it.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and swallowed hard, struggling with himself not to throw himself at her not caring anymore that Royce was with them, he hadn't seen her in a week and was dying of desire.

He sighed heavily, tightening his lips.

"So be it."

He instructed them where to wait for him and they met at night in one of the underground passages he had found as a child, all three of them wearing long cloaks with hoods on their heads. He grasped his betrothed's hand and instructed her not to let him go for a moment, which she did eagerly, entwining their fingers.

He felt butterflies in his stomach and wondered if they left Royce for a while so he could fuck her in some dark side street would anything bad happen.

However, he decided that he couldn't be so irresponsible, after all, someone might see them.

They circled around the town simply looking around, with crowds of people all around them and lit bonfires, theatrical performances as well as food and drink stalls. Royce drank his longed-for beer, but said it wasn't as tasty as he had hoped and preferred wine.

At this point, Aemond was already starting to become slowly concerned that someone would notice their disappearance after all, and insisted that they had already returned to the keep, feeling that he was now responsible for them.

On their way back, Royce almost fell over some man lying on the ground who, at his kick, flopped to the side, his hood falling off his head, revealing his white hair.

"Oh fuck. Isn't that your brother?" Royce asked simultaneously horrified and amused, his betrothed looking at him concerned.

"Shall we help him?" She asked quietly, stroking the skin of his hand with her thumb.

"No." He muttered, turning away, dragging her behind him. "Let him lie there."

______

Royce:

Lady Baratheon:

Aemond:

_____

Okay, I had a blast writing this and I love that I was able to curate all the gifs for them from Michael Scott from The Office!! It was hilarious!!! I hope it will make you smile at least a little bit, we need it in the fandom, and I encourage you to read this series, because I love it and it's probably one of my favorites that I've written. 💐💐💐

____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy

[aidenlydia]

I have seen that you are very open about supporting trans people and that your pronouns are they/them. How were you able to understand that you were trans? (If you are.) I've honestly felt so confused lately and don't have anyone I can ask about this. I love your ftm ghost art. I think it is amazing. I just don't know what to do or how I'll ever be able to figure out myself. Totally not your job but was curious if you had advice.

Not sure how helpful this will be, because my trans experience is deeply interlinked with my Dissociative Identity Disorder and Autism, so I'm sorry if this is a bit confusing.

What is Dissociative Identity Disorder

Dissociative Identity Disorder - Terms and Definitions

Autism and Gender

The reason why I go by they/them is because we're literally multiple people. Our two Hosts Aiden and Lydia (aka the alters interacting most with the world outside of our own head) are a man and a woman. We spend all our time together, sharing a body and the control over it.

We used to go by he/she, but people would only view us as a girl because of our body, so we switched to they/them. It makes more sense and feels better to be acknowledged together instead of Aiden being left out all the damn time.

Now bear with me here.

Though Lydia is a cis women, she grew up never belonging anywhere because we're autistic, so she feels like an imposter and a fraud when trying to connect to her feminity. Most days we barely feel human at all because we've been othered all our life. But she still views herself as a woman - motherhood in particular is a big important part of her.

Aiden is a trans man, but he doesn't mind our feminine body and doesn't plan on getting surgery ever. Testosterone maybe, but even that isn't super important to him at the moment. To him knowing he's a man is enough, passing isn't a priority at all. And because all of our Littles are girls he's rather protective of their body - any kind of medical procedure would cause a lot of fear in them.

He realized he's trans because he preferred a male name for himself, short hair and male clothing. It happened very quickly because exploring gender has never been an issue for us, it's fun and simply felt comfortable.

We do have two Agender Alters, but they don't come out in our regular daily life. They don't feel like anything really, they're deeply connected to nature and just want to exist as genderless beings, so they prefer not taking control of our body. It feels peaceful not being put into a box or defined by gender expectations and whatever other bullshit the world comes up with.

In the past we used to have another trans male Host, but he was suffering deeply from gender dysphoria. He couldn't stand the sight of our body or existing in it and became very self destructive about it. Until one day he just stopped coming out and hasn't been back since.

Before I even realized I had DID, gender wasn't really a concept to me. Same with names, it just didn't make sense to me why someone couldn't just change their name if they didn't like the one their parents gave them for whatever reason. I think of people as people, not boys and girls. Sure there are physical differences, but the meanings/genderroles we attributed to them are completely made up.

Folks love nagging me about how I draw my Ghost, but the truth is he can walk around looking like a cis girl and still be a man, I truly dgaf. So what if he's smaller and more delicate looking next to that big bear of a captain, that doesn't make him any less of a man.

The best advice I can give is you don't need to label yourself if you don't want to. You can experiment and just see what feels good. Maybe you'll find a label or make a plan along the way, but don't feel pressured to.

Common things people do is try out a different name, change their pronouns, create and play as video game characters of the opposite gender/sex (or gender non-conforming in general), listen to trans playlists/musicians, shop clothes/stuff in the other section (including underwear or things like jewelry ect), read books or watch movies about different kinds of trans characters, watch video essays about trans topics, create OCs or sonas, look at trans art and watch/read about other people's trans journeys.

Of course there are "what's my gender identity" tests you can take too, idk how helpful those are but I guess they can give you a bit more insight and maybe make you ask questions that you haven't asked yourself before.

Lastly here's a list of gender identities and definitions that might be beneficial to have a look at, as well as my trans resource list I put together last month about what can be done to change your gender in various ways

[yuikomorii]

Let's judge fairly. Yui had her development too. It's not like she didn't have any development.

// I wouldn’t necessarily call it development, I would rather say the story itself advanced and she grew accustomed to the circumstances. Over the course of the games, she got better at managing the Diaboys since you get to know someone after spending a lot of time with them and well… she also started acting more cheeky and bolder with them, for the reason that they started dating. She didn't know Karlheinz well in HDB and MB, so she didn't have any opinion about him, but in DF and CL, she called him out after Karl revealed how much of a jerk he is. It's not like she wouldn't have done that earlier if she had known the truth about him from the beginning—she called out Cordelia in the first game, after all.

However, I do think there are two particular scenes where they tried to highlight some major (?) development.

One is from Ayato's MB route, when she acknowledged acting in a selfish manner and concentrating solely on her feeling rather than on Ayato too, who was also having difficulties. She came to the realization that Ayato isn't perfect, despite being cute and giving her pleasure, and learned to accept him for all of his good and bad traits.

The other one is from Laito’s LE route, in which Reiji tries to make her understand that not believing in your lover can be very painful and that it’s not okay talking like that behind his back.

The message itself was good but this is the type of forced character development I have mixed feelings about. They didn’t have to make Yui act like that because it only portrays her as the bad one here. Yui is the first person Laito has ever opened up to and she was well aware that Laito hates Karlheinz, so getting his powers would undoubtedly damage him, yet she kept failing to understand that, despite the fact that they’ve been dating for some months and should have known better. The scene in which she says that Laito knows everything about her, yet she knows nothing about him only makes her appear so foolish in order to generate conflict. Like… come on, how can the heroine claim such a thing after dating a guy for SIX games?? Plus, the reasons of Laito’s actions were OBVIOUS that not even Reiji could entirely put the blame on him based on his situation.

As for Ayato’s MB route, I can’t entirely put the blame on her; I mean… Ayato is super good-looking and could probably pull anyone, but I can’t comprehend how she failed to realize that he has negative traits too?? It should be crystal clear that nobody is perfect and that everyone has their own issues, so you can’t beg someone to consider you special if they don’t feel like it.

It would have been 10 times better if Rejet actually tried to overcome her weaknesses, instead of adding new flaws. No, writing the heroine to suddenly have a shallow or selfish mindset only to make her “become a better person after realizing her mistakes” was not needed at all. And it’s also not fun making a character learn the same lesson in more games.

Credit to: dialovers-translations on Tumblr

The best scene, in which they could have genuinely made her evolve as a person, was in Carla’s LE route, when she admitted wanting to help him and the ghouls. It would have been nice seeing Carla putting faith in her and giving her an important yet hard task. Seeing Yui try her best to do it right, even if she was struggling at first, would have been such a cute moment. But nope, they decided to push her aside instead.

Other than that, idk if becoming a masochist and less sane as in the beginning count as development, lol, but if it does then it works like that too.

I get that it’s an otome game and most people play it for the guys but I feel like the heroine deserves to have her own storyline where she discovers herself and improves. DL feels more like the Diaboys' journey than her own, which is ironic because she’s the HEROINE, and in her most recent appearance, Rejet literally described her as “Ayato’s lover” without even using her name. I don’t really think the developers care that much about her, otherwise I doubt they’d be ok with all her character inconsistencies.

Yui is my favorite heroine because I find her really cute and likeable, plus I relate to her, but I’m aware of the fact that a likeable character does not equal a good one. She’s your average early 2010s heroine, who could have been indeed better written but serves her purpose, which is still good.

[glittervame]

Lord and Savior

🌟-I got you babes, (For the rest of you send me requests!)

Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Low-key Reader being a Dick rider, Use of the Dark Lords name, Them both being little shits tbh, Smut (You're welcome), Brief editing (Really just skimming through), Angst for fun

I low-key want to try out pink fronting- (If you know you know, give me a request if that's something you want), A little fun fact about myself I hate Harry Potter as a person.

The Room of Requirement, a place where one could find anything they needed, had never been so unyielding. Its doors, once so accommodating, now refused to budge despite Harry and Y/n's every attempt. Trapped within its confines, the two enemies found themselves in a most unusual situation. They hated each other with a loathing passion; their rivalry spanning back years, fueled by jealousy and resentment, mostly because Harry found out that she was Draco Malfoys' cousin and that she was a death eater.

First, they kept themselves on opposite sides of the room not acknowledging each other's presence. Y/n had found herself perched on a throne of books she had made in the first three hours they were there, a vain attempt at feeling important and in control. Harry, on the other hand, had been pacing the room, running his fingers through his untidy hair over and over, coursing all of his decisions that led him up to right now.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they both spoke at the same time. "Do you want to play a game?" Y/n asked, her voice cold and emotionless. She knew she was better at games, it was one of the only things she was better at than him. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. "Alright, let's play twenty questions."

They both thought about it for a moment. Twenty questions was a game they had both played before, a game where one person thought of something and the other person had to guess what it was by asking a total of twenty questions. It was a simple game, but they both knew it could get complicated, especially when they were both as good at it as they were.

"Fine," Harry said, his voice slightly less strained than before. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "Alright, I'll go first. Is it a person, place, or thing?"

Y/n smiled slightly, feeling a small thrill of anticipation. "It's a person." She answered, trying to keep her expression neutral.

Harry nodded, already forming a question in his mind. "Right, and are they living or dead?"

Y/n considered her answer for a moment before deciding. "Living."

Harry thought for a moment longer, his mind racing through a list of potential people they knew. "Is this person famous?"

Y/n hesitated. "Yes, they are quite famous."

Harry thought some more, narrowing down the list of possibilities in his mind. "Are they an actor or actress?"

Y/n smiled, feeling slightly triumphant. "No, they're not in the entertainment industry."

Harry's brow furrowed in concentration. "Are they a politician?"

Y/n's smile faded slightly. "Yes, they are."

Harry thought for a moment longer, trying to place the name. "Is this person from Britain, or from another country?"

Y/n thought about it for a moment. "They're from Britain."

Harry's eyes widened slightly as he finally figured it out. "Is it…is it Dumbledore?" he asked, almost afraid to say the name aloud.

Y/n's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "No, it isn't Dumbledore," she replied, her voice slightly sharper than she intended. "It's Voldemort." There was a pregnant pause as the words hung in the air between them. Harry looked at her, surprised by her answer. He hadn't expected her to say that. "But… why did you choose Voldemort?" he asked, unable to hide the confusion in his voice.

"He's our Lord and savior" She muses adjusting her sleeve to her green robes, Harry shot her a withering glare. "He is the one that will make the world great again" She continued, Harry snorted at that remark. "He's done so much for us, he's given us purpose, a reason to live, to fight, to be better than everyone else." She paused, taking a deep breath, her voice softening. "Filthy Mudbloods"

Harry rolled his eyes, finding her defense of Voldemort to be ironic, to say the least. "And all those people he's killed? The ones that were innocent?" He asked, anger and disgust seething beneath his calm exterior.

Y/n shrugged. "They were just casualties of war," she replied, her voice cold. "And they died for a greater cause. They died so that we could have a world free of muggles, free of those who Think they deserve a place in our world" She paused, her expression softening slightly. "Don't you see? Voldemort isn't just our leader, he's our hero. He's the one that's going to make the world a better place."

Harry felt a surge of anger course through him at her words. "You're deluded, you know that?" He spat. "He's a monster, and if you can't see that, then maybe you're just as bad as he is."

Y/n's face flushed with anger, her green eyes narrowing. "And what about you, Harry?" She hissed. "You're just a pathetic little tool. Defeated him once and think you're a big shot? You're nothing but a waste of space." She leaned in closer, her voice dripping with venom. "You're just like everyone else. Afraid of change, afraid of the future. Well, I'm not. I believe in Voldemort, and I'm willing to fight for what's right."

Harry felt a mixture of anger and pity for her. "You're just blind, Y/n," he said, his voice gentle despite the harsh words. "You don't know what he's really like. You don't know what he's capable of. You don't know the things he's done."

"Oh, and you do?" she snorted derisively. "You think you're so much better than him? You've done nothing but run away your whole life. You're just as much of a coward as everyone says you are."

Harry felt a flash of pain at her words, but he refused to let it show. "At least I've never killed innocent people," he retorted. "And I'll keep running away until I find a way to stop him."

Y/n laughed, the sound cold and mocking. "You'll never stop him," she said. "You'll never beat him. You're nothing but a pathetic loser, just like Dumbledore." She turned her back on him, walking away with her head held high. "Let everyone else deal with the issue so you don't have to," she added, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Harry felt a mixture of anger and hurt as he watched her leave. He knew she was wrong, but her words still stung. He knew he couldn't change her mind, not about Voldemort, not about anything. He sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He knew he had to keep fighting, had to find a way to stop Voldemort before it was too late.

For the next hour Y/n had occupied herself by carving things with her knife, she was quite good at it, she'd had plenty of practice. She had always been good with her hands, something she had in common with Voldemort. The dark lord appreciated that about her. She didn't know what it was about the other Death Eaters, but she had always felt like she was different. Maybe it was because she had been raised by pure bloods, maybe it was because she had been trained by Voldemort himself. Whatever the reason, she knew she was special.

She paused for a moment, glancing over at Harry, who was still sitting on the ground, looking defeated. She sighed softly. He really was pathetic. He was weak, and he would never understand the power and the glory of Voldemort. It was a shame, really. If only he could see the truth, maybe he wouldn't be such a burden on the rest of them.

But she knew better. Harry Potter would always be a thorn in their side, a constant reminder of the world they were fighting to create. And so, she continued carving her knife, sharpening it, preparing for the battles to come. Because she knew that one day, they would win. They would defeat Harry Potter, and they would have a world free of muggles and mudbloods. A world where pure bloods ruled, where the strong survived and the weak perished.

Harry, on the other hand, remained lost in his own thoughts. He couldn't understand how Y/n could possibly support Voldemort. He knew how evil the dark lord was, how many innocent people he had killed. But Y/n, she seemed different. She seemed to have some sort of connection with him that Harry couldn't understand. He wondered if it was because she was raised by pure bloods, or if it was because she had been trained by Voldemort himself. Whatever the reason, he knew that she was dangerous.

"Harry," she purred, "I'm bored come play with me" her voice echoed around the room that was filled with clutter and dust. "Come find me" Harry could practically hear the smirk in her voice as she spoke. He knew that she was dangerous, and he knew that he shouldn't go near her, but he couldn't help but feel drawn to her.

She was beautiful, in a dark and twisted way. Her long, flowing hair framed her pale face perfectly, and her cold, eyes seemed to glow in the dim light her body was toned and athletic. Even though he knew better, he couldn't help but be attracted to her.

Harry slowly rose to his feet, feeling a mixture of fear and curiosity coursing through his veins. He took a tentative step forward, his eyes never leaving hers. "Y/n…" he whispered.

She smiled, revealing her sharp, pointed teeth. "I've been waiting for you, Harry," she purred, taking a step closer. "I knew you'd come." She reached out and ran a long, slender finger down his cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. "You're so much stronger than you think you are," she murmured, her voice low and hypnotic. "And I know we can be so much more together."

Harry swallowed hard, feeling her touch sending waves of desire coursing through his veins. He knew he shouldn't give in to her, but it was as if he had no control over his own body. He found himself stepping even closer, feeling the heat emanating from her like a living flame.

"You're right," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. He closed the distance between them, his hands reaching out to touch her face, to feel her skin beneath his fingers.

She moaned softly, arching into his touch, her hips pressing against his. "Harry," she breathed, her eyes fluttering shut. "You have no idea how much I've wanted this." Her lips parted, inviting him in, and he couldn't resist any longer. He leaned forward, cradling her face in his hands, and kissed her.

Her lips were as soft as he imagined, but there was a fierceness to her kiss that took him by surprise. She tasted like blood and desire, her tongue dancing with his, urging him on. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling the strength in her body as she held him just as tightly, their hips grinding together in a smooth rhythm.

"You've got to wake up Harry" her voice hummed wrapping around his brain, "Harry wake up!" His eyes flew open and met the pair standing over him. "Harry?"

He blinked and shook his head, "Wh-what happened?" He asked, confused.

"You fell asleep dipshit," She crosses her arms and huffs, "I was just going to ignore you but you said my name and caught my attention." She gives a sly grin, "Must've been a good dream then" Her friend chuckles next to her.

Harry blushes, feeling embarrassed. "Yeah, uh… sorry about that," he mutters, trying to collect himself. He glances over at Y/n, feeling a strange mixture of shame and desire welling up inside him. She watches him with those cold, calculating eyes, and he can't help but wonder what she's thinking.

"It's fine, Potter," she says, her voice neutral. "But if you're going to sleep and call out for me again, I'll make sure you regret it." She leans in closer, her breath tickling his ear. "Trust me, I'll take a knife and shove it in your throat" For emphases she takes hers and holds It to his throat. "And then I'll drink your blood while you watch." Her words send a shiver down his spine, and he can't help but feel a strange mix of fear and arousal at her threat.

He licks his lips and nods a little, still feeling the weight of her words. "I won't give you the chance," he manages to say, his voice barely audible. There's a long moment where they stare at each other, the air thick with tension and hidden desires. Finally, she pulls back, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Good boy," she says, her words going straight to his dick, sounding almost too pleased. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to look for shit I can take" With that, she turns on her heel and walks away, giving him one last look over her shoulder before they disappear into the crowd.

Harry was still very turned on by the time she came back with her loot and a crown sitting on her head like it was made for her, she took notice of it right away. She gave him a wink as she sat down next to him and began to unravel it, letting the gold chain slip through her fingers. "Look at this, Potter. Found it in the back."

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure as he looked at her. She seemed so confident, so in control. It was almost intoxicating. "That looks nice on you," he managed to say, his voice still shaky. "Very regal."

She grinned, showing off her fangs. "I know, right? It's like it was made for me." She leaned in closer, her breath tickling his ear. "I could make you feel like you were my king, Potter. If you wanted." Her hand reached out, tracing a finger down his cheek before coming to rest on his shoulder. "I could make you feel things you've never felt before."

Harry shuddered at her touch, his body responding to her words. He wanted to believe her, wanted to feel what she was offering. But a part of him knew that this was dangerous territory. "I'm not sure if that's such a good idea," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Her grip on his shoulder tightened. "Oh, but I think it is," she purred. "I can see it in your eyes, Potter. You want this as much as I do." Her other hand came up, cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing across his bottom lip. "And I can make you forget everything else, everyone else."

He closed his eyes, unable to resist her. Her words were like a drug, clouding his thoughts and making him want to believe that she could give him what he needed. He opened his mouth, allowing her thumb to stroke across his lips, and then, before he could think twice, he leaned forward and kissed her.

Her lips were as soft as he imagined, but there was a fierceness to her kiss that took him by surprise. She tasted like blood and desire, her tongue dancing with his, urging him on. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling the strength in her body as she held him just as tightly, their hips grinding together in a smooth rhythm. He moaned into her mouth, unable to believe how good this felt, how much he wanted more.

She pulled away for a moment, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she looked down at him. Her eyes were wide with desire, and her fangs were bared, glistening in the dim light. "You're perfect," she whispered, her voice husky. "I've waited so long for this." Then she was kissing him again, her lips moving over his face, tracing a path down his neck and collarbone.

He arched his back, groaning as her teeth scraped against his skin. "Please," he managed to say, his voice barely audible. "I want you." She smiled against his skin, her breath hot against his flesh. "Don't worry, Potter. I'll take care of you." And then she was undoing his pants, her cool fingers wrapping around his aching erection.

She stroked him expertly, her other hand moving up to past his shirt, teasing a nipple through his shirt. He felt himself growing more and more out of control, the pleasure coursing through his veins. He couldn't believe how good this felt, how right. He wanted to lose himself in her touch, in her kiss.

When she finally pushed him back, straddling him, he knew that this was it. He was hers, and he didn't want it any other way. She leaned forward, her breasts pressing against his chest, and lowered her mouth to his neck once more. He arched his back, moaning as she teased him with her teeth and tongue. Her hips began to move, slowly at first, and then with increasing urgency. He could feel her wetness against his skin, and the sensation was almost unbearable.

She looked down at him, her eyes hooded and dark. "You're mine now," she growled, her voice rough with desire. "Say it."

He looked up at her, his eyes cloudy with lust. "I'm yours," he managed to croak. "Do with me what you will."

She smiled, her fangs gleaming in the dim light. Then she leaned forward, biting at his neck. At the same time, her hips began to move faster, her body undulating against his. He felt the familiar tugging sensation deep inside him as she guided him closer and closer to the edge.

He gripped her hips, his nails digging into her skin, desperate for release. The pleasure was building inside him, tightening his stomach, making it hard to breathe. "Please," he groaned. "I'm close."

She smiled up at him, her eyes dark with satisfaction. "That's it, Potter," she whispered, her voice husky. "Let go." And with those words, he felt himself spill inside her, his body shuddering with the force of the release. As the pleasure faded, he collapsed back against the pillows, his heart racing and his mind reeling. He looked up at her, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "That was just the beginning," she whispered. "There's so much more we can do together." Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and he couldn't help but wonder what she meant. Was she talking about the physical pleasure they'd shared? Or was there something more?

Before he could open his mouth there was the sound of rubble hitting the ground grabbing both of their attention. The Room of Requirements doors had just opened. Y/n looks down at him, "Looks like it's time to go potter" She licks her lips,"Catch you later"

Y/n Sits at a table in a cold dark room, her hair pooling around her shoulders as she spins her wand around in her hand, the other petting the snake that's draped over her chair.

A call of her name brings her back, eyes snapping to meet dark ones, "What is Your situation with Mr. Potter?" His voice sounded like honey in her ears. Such a shame he became such a massive bitch, he was one of the pretty ones.

She blinked at him owlishly before she seemed to realize his question, "Oh," She glanced towards Draco, their eyes meeting for a split second before looking away. "I have him wrapped around my finger, beck 'n call if you will, My lord," She says with a sly smile.

"Good"

Comment to be added to main taglist

[fantastic-nonsense]

Harley Quinn's insane popularity during the mid-2010s is a super interesting phenomenon precisely because her abrupt rise in popularity was less about her unique appeal as an individual character and more about everything else DC Comics was doing at the time

Harley's New 52 aesthetic revamp from her classic harlequin costume to a corset, booty shorts, and two-toned hair happened entirely because people loved her look in the Arkham games and DC was trying to capitalize on it. Also almost entirely on the basis of her popularity in those games (and because the company was in desperate need of positive PR after mass criticism about their treatment of female characters in the early New 52, including Harley), editorial greenlit a solo book for her.

Her 2014 solo book outsold most of DC's line partially because of the character, story, and the creative team of course; there's no way it could have been that successful without people liking those things. But its success was massively helped by Harley being one of the few characters who (outside of Glass's Suicide Squad run, which was promptly yeeted into oblivion and never mentioned again) wasn't completely fucked over by the reboot and whose book DC editorial largely left alone during the notoriously micromanaged New 52 era.

She also had one of the few decent "fun" books at a time when DC's offerings were mostly either grimdark and edgy, disliked, or doing something radically different with their protagonists than normal (for example...Lobdell's Teen Titans and Red Hood and the Outlaws, making Supergirl a Red Lantern, and having Dick Grayson fake his death and go undercover as a super spy), making Harley Quinn a breath of fresh air for anyone seeking to escape the melodrama of Forever Evil, Future's End, and Convergence or find a new book after the ones they were reading ended or became unpalatable.

Over in the DCEU, people had two lukewarm movies they weren't really that excited about despite starring DC's Trinity. And then you got Suicide Squad, which was kinda hot garbage and a critical failure but made bank and had the wonderful Margot Robbie playing Harley Quinn. No one else really made it out of that movie looking good, but Margot's depiction of Harley was widely praised and her look in that movie became wildly popular, selling tons of merch. So DC went "oh she's a seller!" and then greenlit the Harley Quinn cartoon and Birds of Prey 2020 while generally refusing to acknowledge that the lack of decent DCEU movies overall, Robbie's performance compared to her co-stars, and Harley's grunge Hot Girl look were the main drivers of Harley's seemingly unique popularity following the movie's release.

Basically: Harley got incredibly lucky because she got a major internal editorial push as a character at the exact same time basically every other character whose comics would have normally outsold hers got fucked over, and then got lucky twice when DC cast Margot Robbie to play her in Suicide Squad while the movie's Hot Topic Aesthetic™ was still somewhat en vogue.

Combine those two things with the fact that her relationship with Poison Ivy (an A-list Batman Rogue) was confirmed at the same time same-sex marriage was legalized and DC was looking to promote a diverse character slate...and you get the wild popularity she's enjoyed since ~2012 that nonetheless is obviously starting to slowly return back to base levels. Which you can tell when you look at, for example, Harley's sales numbers post-Rebirth/Infinite Frontier (since facing actual competition from DC's staple characters) and the number of new Harley-led projects that have been greenlit since the 2020 management massacre that took out Didio.

At the end of the day, The Harley Phenomenon is less about Harley Quinn and more about what happens when a company capitalizes on a character's aesthetic appeal and Cool Girl Status while largely abandoning the goal of making quality content starring the rest of their staple characters. She's certainly popular on her own and has individual appeal, but she never would have achieved the level of mainstream popularity she's enjoyed over the past 10 years without an astounding set of major coincidences all falling in her direction.

[herboretum]

since i’m full of hatred and negativity i will be answering this

(to emphasize Like these are just nuances and inconsistencies i’ve found with myself and the fandom Like genuinely idrgaf i could care less about any of the points i will make in retrospect)

the anthropomorphization of unpleasant from this fandom has genuinely WRECKED its character and made it. not that unique compared to the other npcs. like i dont know it being this like fucking gooner-type character is so awful? and i really hate it? if anything that trope given to unpleasant should have stayed with scag and ended with her, since she’s a genuine npc with more writing and thoughts attached

i saw people bring up this point again and im glad but HELLO!!!!! LETS STOP JUST ASSOCIATING LAMPERT AS WALLTER AND MARK'S SON? EVEN WHEN IT HAS BEEN DISCREDITED /MULTIPLE/ TIMES? like DAMN this fandom only attributes characteristics if it is attached to literally anyone else besides that person. its horrible. people NEED to learn to find the balance between having fun with that headcanon while also acknowledging lampert as his own separate person that is (to be quite frank) not even associated with them that much in canon

(+ people saying that the headcanon of lampert being wallmark's son is canon and fucking REPLYING saying to people who ship wallter & lampert or mark & lampert that they shouldn't. you are fucking embarrassing)

more of a fandom thing but yall ship too much lmfaoo. like guys i promise, you can interpret some of these relationships as genuine friendships i promise you'll live. can we stop with the rhetoric that just because two characters have good dynamics with each other that means that theyre in love (heavily side-eyeing protoscag and lampfected and milby dare i say)

the regretevator fandom is EXACTLY like the phighting fandom with how shipping is handled. i mean this in not a positive way

people gotta stop relying on the wiki for information man. so much lore from yeucc's tumblr has been retconned and at this point, when there's now WRITERS for the game that are actually keeping tabs, all if not the good majority of what is said on the wiki should be taken with a grain of salt. nowadays the lore is unpredictable, and only a select few (by few i mean like. 4 out of the 17 npcs) has had their lore expanded on significantly

general facts i think is fine so long as theres an annotation backing it but my point still stands . moreso with lore generally

also saw this point being brought up in the qrts but the demonization and infantilization of certain characterss (cough spud pilby pest and poob) is like. wild. i dunno i can't say much since i'm very fortunate enough to not have seen that much but my god is it prevalent from what people are saying

with pest especially since he has npd and aspd i do think that. people generally associating him as evil has NOT been the greatest thing, especially since it reduces him to a stigma of people with personality disorders which is horrific and terrifying. idk what goes on in the background but i feel like the fandom + yeucc & the people working on regretevator should have done more research on the disorders and consulted people who do have these issues better instead of using those labels haphazardly

another thing i will and always will be vocal (dog on) about the axosun team is them keeping gnarpy. like there was no reason to keep xem in other than for revenue gain let's be honest and True to ourselves. the philosophy "ohh but you can separate the art from the artist!!!!" i feel does not really apply to this scenario cause xe got a whole ass revamp despite the obvious fact that it STILL is gnarpy, a character created by a bad person regardless of the ownership change and discredited history. its the underlying thought that they were essentially built off a bad origin if this makes any sense. idk i think it wouldve been better for everyone if xe were just removed ENTIRELY from the game but. you do you i guess

lastly in this essay: i think more people should Be Kinder to each other in this fandom <3 peace and love

[acacia-may]

Hi!! Me again. Can I ask 15, 16 and 25 for the excerpt game? Thanks a lot! 😁

Hi there, friend! Thank you so much for the ask! 🥰 I'd be happy to answer these questions from the writing excerpt ask game for you.

15. An excerpt from an old piece that I like

Here's an excerpt from "I'll Be Waiting" which was a Finral and Finesse piece (and my third Black Clover fanfiction ever) ^^

“Finral?” The sound of his name made him stop in his tracks, and the portal flickered though it didn’t disappear. Lady Finesse paused for a moment before asking quietly, “Is there anything that could bring you back?” A breathy laugh escaped from his mouth before he could stop it, but he shrugged. “My family finally acknowledging me…me beating Langris…becoming the Head of House Vaude…so…a miracle?” He sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “But that’s never going to—” “I’ll be waiting then.” Finral gasped at her gentle interruption. He blinked and whipped around in confusion on impulse. “For…for what?” he asked, and her kind eyes met his as she smiled at him with what he could have sworn was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. “For you to come home.”

16. An excerpt from a recent piece I want to brag about

Thank you so much for asking this dear! I feel bad because I haven't written anything Black Clover in a long time, so this will have to be an excerpt from a fic for another fandom. I've chosen an excerpt from "Tell Me Where It Hurts" which is a brotherly hurt/comfort (and eventually heavy angst) story that I wrote in January of this year. I'm really proud of this OMORI fic and how it turned out. This snippet isn't from my favorite part of the fanfic, but I chose from a portion that doesn't have any spoilers for the game. ^^ That said, I’m really happy with and proud of the descriptions in the last paragraph, so I thought it fit the "I want to brag about" prompt. Also, yes, my intense love of brothers getting along and supporting and loving each other extends to other fandoms as well... 😁 (I am so normal I swear...)

Kel shrugged him off, squirming away from him. “Hero,” he began to protest again, but he sniffled—wiping his hand across his nose then his eyes and leaving a streak of dirt on his cheek. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” Hero gently interrupted, rubbing his hand comfortingly across his brother’s back. “My bike—” “It’s okay. I’ve got it.” With a reassuring nod, Hero grabbed the orange handlebars and set the bike upright again. It was in much better shape than Kel who had been flung off of it when he had hit that uneven spot in the sidewalk outside their house. Despite Hero’s gentle warnings that Kel should slow down and look out for that infamous crack in the pavement, Kel had slammed into it at rapid speed, losing his balance and skidding across the sidewalk into the dirt with a painful scraping sound. Hero could only imagine how much that had had hurt. The thought made something twist in his chest. He couldn’t stand to see the tears caught in Kel’s long eyelashes, to watch his bottom lip trembling as he tried not to cry. He wished it had been him who had crashed the bicycle rather than his brother. It probably would have hurt less.

25. An excerpt that I consider a favorite

I had to pick from "Wine Therapy" for this! It might be my favorite of all the Black Clover fanfictions that I've written, and it's is definitely one of my favorite stories I've ever written for any fandom. This is kind of long for a snippet, but the whole sequence was just so much fun to write...

“Take off your shoes and socks.” Langris practically leapt backwards in surprise. “What?” “I would roll up your pant legs too. They’ll get stained,” she added with a tilt of her head. Langris blinked at her but his mind was so muddled he couldn’t seem to find his question. Vanessa continued, “Like I already told you, if you’re going to buy this wine, you need to replace it. You can’t supply the ingredients or age it with your magic, but you can stomp the grapes.” A teasing grin spread between her cheeks. “So get to it!” “You...want me…to get into that basin and stomp these grapes with my feet?” Langris repeated in bewilderment. Vanessa nodded. “Yep. That’s exactly it. Once we have enough juice for another bottle to replace this one”—she held it up for him to see—“you are free to buy it.” Langris looked from the basin full of grapes to the bottle. “That’s disgusting. You can’t actually expect me to…” “You said you’d pay ‘any price’ for the best wine we had. This, plus 1200 Yul, is the price,” shrugged Vanessa. “Is that going to be a problem?” “I meant monetary price,” muttered Langris bitterly. “This is…this is ridiculous…and gross.” “Oh, are your feet gross?” she bantered. “Definitely wash them off beforehand, then.” She motioned to a small washtub, soap, and water nearby. “You’re making me pay in manual labor?” protested Langris. “Can’t you just raise the price? I’ll pay double what you’re asking me.” “No,” answered Vanessa with a smile. “Consider this the ‘price of perfection’ Langris.” She paused and glanced over at a nearby clock on the wall. “I’d get started if I were you, otherwise we’re going to be here all night,” she teased with a wink. Langris shook his head and gritted his teeth. What a cruel woman—he knew she was enjoying this. He sighed. But what choice did he have? He needed that wine, that perfect wine, no matter the cost—which was apparently his dignity.

[stories-and-chaos]

Tarnished pt 29

[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved.]

[Part 29/?? Word Count: 1535]

—————

Blitzø continued explaining the upcoming festival. “The locals have a great time and the Pain Games are fun to watch, but I gotta do my bodyguard thing. Don’t even get to play.” He pouted, looking more like a grumpy impling than an adult. “Loonie’s coming for extra security. Dina’s never seen it so she’s tagging along for fun.”

Barbie made a noncommittal sound, mostly acknowledging she’d heard. She sipped her iced coffee, the rattling sound from the straw saying it was now more ice and coffee. She shouldn’t be upset. What was there to be mad about? Besides her coffee running out. There, that was it. She was annoyed about missing a free coffee after therapy. Her tossed cup landed in a trash bin; at least her aim hadn’t suffered from all the abuse she’d put her body through.

Blitzø, also finishing his drink, dumped the ice in his mouth. Gotta get all the chocolate he could from it. His cup followed Barb’s, hitting the rim before falling in. Crunching on his ice cubes, he saw Barb cross her arms and stiffen up. He’d seen her chomp on ice too, so he didn’t think that upset her. “‘Ey,” he said around a mouthful of coffee flavored ice, “‘ou w’nna come wif?”

“Huh? Swallow Blitzø, can’t fucking understand ice mouth dude.”

He crunched and swallowed some, giving himself brain freeze. “You wanna come with?” he repeated once it passed. “You’ve been doing great with rehab, maybe your therapist will clear you for the day?”

Barb blushed a little. Nope, she wasn’t embarrassed that he picked up on her feeling left out. Because she didn’t feel left out! “Well, how else am I gonna get my free coffee?” She huffed, deliberately loosening her shoulders and uncrossing her arms. “Which day is it?”

After giving her all the information, Blitzø realized there was something he needed to mention before she saw him in a public setting with Stolas. “Uh, one thing real quick. I gotta play the whole master/servant bullshit. For appearances and crap.” He rubbed his neck, his discomfort radiating off of him. “And that means I gotta have this.” He brushed his other hand against his forehead where the All Imp Circus mark was.

But when his hand moved away, there was a solid white heart in its place. It was topped by a crown with elegant scrolling lines on either side. Barb felt a flash of rage at the sight. You asshole, you covered up our mark?! Then she saw Blitzø’s expression underneath the changed brand. Hurt, shame, and fear. He couldn’t make eye contact with her. Her twin took a shaky breath and passed his hand over the mark again. It was back to a stylized skull heart.

But his expression didn’t change. “It’s… it’s part of the binding,” he said, voice thick with emotion. Fuck this hurt more than the brain freeze. “I learned enough magick to illusion it back, for when I’m solo. But anything in public with Stolas… yeah.” His voice trailed away.

Something else for her to process. “Well, thanks for the gut punch. Least you didn’t spring it on me at the festival.” Barb’s tail cracked in annoyance as she walked. The tip poked him in the side. “C’mon, I’m hungry and I wanna get back before the cafeteria closes. If you beat me there I’ll let you tell me more over dinner.” She picked up the pace, Blitzø slack jawed behind her.

“Fuck you Barb, you know the way better than I do!” He ran to catch up. He didn’t beat her to the dorm but they still had dinner together. They chatted about less heavy subjects and Barb agreed to the festival, pending therapist approval.

—————

A week later, Barb was waiting at the elevator concourse, not quite patiently. Either Blitzø or one of the girls were supposed to meet her at the Sloth terminal and head to Wrath. Normally, Barb was dressed in some sort of tight miniskirt dress with tall boots. She’d swapped that for denim shorts, sensible shoes, a crop top, and a checkered button up tied under her breasts. No point in her good heeled boots getting stuck in mud or worse at Wrath’s farms.

Loona hopped out of an elevator for foot traffic. Like Barb, she wasn’t wearing her usual goth outfit. Unlike Barb, she was dressed in a dark jacket, slacks, and wore a set of dark shades. “What’re you supposed to be, Men In Black?” the imp scoffed.

The Hound plucked at the jacket. “I know right? Blitzø wants my help with security and this is his idea of a bodyguard outfit. But fuck all happens at this thing. This is the third one I’ve been to and it’s soooo dull.” The two got in line for ascending foot traffic. “By the way, if you and Blitzø are cool now, should we call you Aunt Barb?”

“Fuck no! Makes me sound like an old lady, one that sits around knitting and shit. Just Barb, got it?” The imp glared up at the Hellhound. “And I still don’t know if I’m ‘cool’ with the jerk.’

Loona shrugged and pursed her lips as they boarded. “I mean, you accepted his invite? Been talking after every group?”

“I wanted a change from all that Sloth-pink. And he gets me free coffee.” Loona smirked and let the matter slide, for now. They complained idly together as the elevator steadily rose. Once at the Wrath level, they exited to see a throng of imps outside the terminal, gathering for the festival. “Dad and the rest are waiting at the main tent. You wanna see them first or check things out around here?”

Barb squinted at the harsh orange light. After years of Sloth’s dreamlike hues, her retinas felt like they were burning. “Might as well let Blitzø know I’m here.” They pushed through the crowd; the festival stage and tent were easy to spot amidst the countrified buildings. “Waiaminnit, isn’t that royal here too?”

“Oh shit! Yeah, Stolas, Dad’s with him.” Loona halted a few yards away from the tent. “You gonna be okay? I can let Blitzo know you’re here if you don’t wanna deal with Stolas.”

Barb glared at the fancy tent walls. “Fuck it, I’m here. Let’s rip off this freaking bandaid.”

Living in the circus gave her a flair for drama. She whipped open the tent flap and announced, “Barbie Wire’s here, bitches.” The small group inside all looked at her blankly before her twin walked up.

“Barb! You made it!” Blitzø had a similar outfit to Loona, black jacket and slacks, with dark shades. “Everyone, this is my twin sister Barbie Wire. Barb, you know Loonie and Dina. That’s Millie and next to her is Moxxie; they’re my employees. And this -oh shit.” Blitzø stumbled over his words as he’d just been about to introduce his twin to his master. Barb crossed her arms, suspicion rising over Blitzø’s hesitancy.

“Allow me, Blitzy, darling.” Blitzy? Darling? The Goetia rose gracefully from his ornate chair. His hair feathers almost brushed the tent canopy as he stalked over. Then he bowed deeply, putting his face at eye level to the twins. “A pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Barb. I am Prince Stolas of Ars Goetia.” His deep pupil-less eyes looked sincerely pained as he continued in a voice only the imp twins could hear. “Although it may not mean much at this late day, I deeply apologize for the pain my father put you and yours through.”

Barb shifted uncomfortably. “Just Barb, none of that ‘Miss’ crap. And uh…yeah…” From Blitzø’s side of things, Stolas was as much a victim as he had been in the whole debacle. But she hadn’t been prepared to deal with all that right this second.

“Not the right time Floof,” her twin muttered at the royal. Floof? They have pet names for each other? Stolas gave a surprised hoot. “Right, we can discuss this later if need be. Today is a festival after all. Why don’t you all take a look around before the official event’s start?” Stolas shooed all the smaller demons out into the Wrathian heat. “You too Blitzy, have a bit of fun.” Barb noticed Blitzø’s grimace as the flicker of light shone under his collar.

“You sure you’ll be alright on your own? You remember what happened the second year you hosted,” Blitzø protested as the owl demon continued to usher the group out.

Stolas laughed. “Yes of course I remember darling. You did an excellent job dispatching those assassins and their leader is still making a splendid horse hitch at the edge of town. Ah ah ah!” He shook a long finger at the imp as Blitzø tried to interject. “I promise I shan’t move from this pavilion until you return and any attackers will find themselves encased in stone. I’m sure someone could use a fence post around here.” With that he pushed his lover outside and closed the tent flap with as much drama as Barb opened it.

“Bad idea to piss off royalty boss,” Moxxie called out. “Better do what the prince says.”

“Oh go fuck yourself Mox.”

—————

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[illegiblewords]

Dragon Age: Veilguard Review

I finally finished my run of Veilguard. Most of what I heard going in was negative, but also not blindly hateful. I had editor brain switched on throughout to make sure I was paying really close attention because I wanted any commentary to be fair. I can also only speak for myself, of course.

That said, I am extremely critical here. I still had fun and will examine stuff/potentially replay bits, but if something read as unsuccessful to me I'm gonna talk about it. To me, identifying critiques gives fans (including me lol) opportunities to better examine things and make choices while exploring fan content. Below the cut, I am going to give an explanation of some of my own decisions/mindsets entering the game (since that shaped my opinions) as well as discussing various characters, lore, narrative techniques, etc. It's going to be big and I don't even know if I'll be able to hit everything. Unmarked spoilers ahoy, buckle up.

ILLEGIBLE'S RUN AND THE CHOICES THEREIN

Understanding the game doesn't acknowledge past decisions, my personal world state involves the following:

The Warden-Commander, elven mage Alim Surana, went off about ten years ago in search for a cure for The Calling. He fathered a child named Kieran with Morrigan, was in a committed relationship with her, and as far as is currently understood remains alive but laying very low. Magic drew primarily from death magic, lightning magic (spark of vitality/life and death), and arcane warrior disciplines. Kieran was born with the soul of Urthemiel, Tevinter god of beauty and unknown blighted Evanuris, inside him. Mythal/Flemeth removed this apparently purified soul from Kieran to keep with her, leaving only the mortal soul behind to grow independently from there. The Architect, sentient/sapient darkspawn and a former priest of Urthemiel, was spared from death and remained in an alliance with The Warden while trying to find a way to co-exist with non-blighted life. Companions all lived, Alistair was made king.

Champion of Kirkwall Marian Hawke was a reaver warrior. Her sister Bethany survived the events of Dragon Age 2 as a Circle Mage and was freed when her sister took up arms to defend the mages. Hawke entered a committed relationship with fellow warrior Fenris. It's worth mentioning that this Hawke locked into rivalry with Merrill not due to lack of friendship/care but because her fixation on discovering the past by any means came at the cost of her present. Hawke also killed Anders not because of disagreeing with his cause or finding spirits inherently evil, but because more and more it became clear that either Anders was corrupting Justice or Justice was corrupting Anders to the point of not being able to navigate reality or nuance without extreme danger to others. See being ready to mindwipe and re-enslave Fenris, being ready to kill a Circle mage who was afraid of him, blowing up the Chantry instead of targeting Templars directly. Arc-wise it made sense that there were opposite parallel arcs between Anders and Fenris in terms of becoming less versus more open/forgiving. Hawke survived Inquisition.

Inquisitor Mahanon Lavellan was a knife-wielding rogue assassin who had been sent to observe the Conclave for the Dalish. He was very devout and that made for a complicated situation given the Herald of Andraste deal. Lavellan forewent all official romances to flirt regularly with Harding. They were confirmed to be dating as of Trespasser. Cassandra became Divine Victoria, Lavellan vowed to convince Solas from his path, mages were sided with over templars, Seekers are seeking to undo the Rite of Tranquility, The Inquisition continues to operate under The Chantry. Unofficially, I already intended that my Inquisitor spent time post-Trespasser/pre-Veilguard telling the Dalish the truth of The Creators. It was probably soul-shattering for him.

My main Rook is mage Valerius Mercar of the Shadow Dragons. He was a young qunari saarebas who got taken in by a Tevinter commander. His upbringing was complicated, he works to free those enslaved and suffering in Minrathous while his adoptive father fights to free those bound and suffering under The Qun. Rook was viewed with a combination of suspicion, curiosity, and pity most of the time depending on the person. He has seen some pretty horrendous shit in Tevinter working with Shadow Dragons, has mixed feelings at both his birth and adoptive nations. Subscribes to the Tevinter Chantry, magic uses mainly meteors and void-of-space cold from the evoker specialization. Worth noting most magic in the Imperium is not combat-oriented. Between the fear qunari invoke in Tevinter and his own talents with combat magic specifically, Valerius made a solid career safeguarding diplomats before he attracted Venatori attention. He was doing a bit of mercenary work until things calmed down when Varric hired him. Romanced Lucanis. My Rook didn't actually realize he was group leader until after the attacks on Treviso and Minrathous--previously had assumed everyone was equal status and they were just winging it. Temperament is very pragmatic and no bullshit when it comes to making decisions, but is surprisingly gentle with wounded people. I finished the game with all companions EXCEPT FOR HARDING GDI alive. I actually tried both death scenes and despite my Harding/Inquisitor OTP it hit me that the parallels between Harding's story and The Inquisitor's story worked with her death. They were two ordinary people who became chosen ones with weird powers by virtue of being at the wrong place at the wrong time, both faced mortal danger and heavy cultural history, both got raised up with religious reverence by others and felt weird about it. One of them lost his hand, the other died. It could have happened to either of them. Also though, Harding went in at her personal strongest. She overcame her own sense of rage for her ancestors to realize she still loved people despite the cruelty and ugliness they sometimes have. The world has good in it worth protecting. Harding also shared the legacy of the titans with other dwarves to avoid being the sole possessor of that history, which ties up a major personal responsibility for her. The Inquisitor had to tell the Dalish about the gods previously, so parallel. There was also a callback to the story's beginning when Harding got injured with an implicit question about whether she changed her mind about the risks involved by leading the way (no) and there were cool reflections with Neve too as someone else who had questions of leadership and sacrifice put in front of her. By comparison, 1) I cannot kill critically endangered baby griffon Assan who gives the best hugs 2) Davrin's story arc as I explored it would not have made sense if he died. He went in expecting to fall for a noble cause killing darkspawn like a badass. The greater good for him is to live for a noble cause protecting vulnerable life that genuinely needs him. Lol @ my Inquisitor tho.

Anyway. Despite being completely pissed off--with the help of Mythal, Morrigan, and the Inquisitor, Rook managed to convince Solas to maintain The Veil. I loved that it unfolded that way. It made sense after Rook learned how Lucanis mentally staying trapped in The Ossuary even after ostensibly being freed, because he didn't know how to heal and keep living after everything. When Rook was thrown into the Fade prison crafted to trap him in regret, my guy actually had the surreal experience of it...not really working. Which also shaped his reaction to Solas.

See, Neve tried to guilt Rook early after he chose to protect Treviso. He saw her as a peer and equal Shadow Dragon, gave her more resources between companions, home turf advantage, the full force of The Shadow Dragons, AND the most powerful mage force in Thedas. With Treviso the actual infrastructure would have made for a worse Blight. The city was actively being occupied already and at a disadvantage. Treviso is not the seat of Antivan power, just one of its cities and a companion's home. Lucanis is skilled but also literally just got out of being imprisoned and tortured for a year, doesn't sleep out of fear of what might happen, is possessed by a demon that occasionally assaults him, and isn't up-to-date with the current state of his home the way Neve is. Support is needed there. Since most resources went to Minrathous, Rook went to Treviso personally as one dude. Guy was obviously heartbroken Minrathous fell but if it was anyone's fault it was the gods/Venatori. Neve tried to blame Rook at the time and it made zero sense to him that she thought he was some tide-changing authority. Sorry u choked Neve, but you were taking the lead on that defense. You were trusted there.

Neve's arc in my game involved her on the one hand struggling with the idea 'people don't show up for me' but gradually realizing often people do but it still isn't realistic to expect everyone to drop everything all the time. When people show up sometimes they survive and sometimes they don't. For my run Neve had to build herself up and do the best she could knowing that others would also do the best they could to give support but sometimes she might just have to lead the way. Neve was the one who dismantled the enchantment during final stretch knowing it was dangerous, and she got abducted. Neve was also rescued by her companions as soon as they could pull it off. She pushed forward even when others offered her a break. She used what she learned in captivity to take control of the Blight threatening her city and her friends knowing she might die in the process, and she lived to know she succeeded without being blighted forever.

So in the Fade prison, Rook was sad but didn't rule out Neve's survival. He mostly felt intense respect for both Harding and Neve's choices. They weren't his choices to make and both Harding and Neve were his equals. Both of them made informed choices knowing there were risks, same as he did. Varric was trickier because he'd encouraged Varric to try talking Solas down and that got him killed--but by that point Rook realized he couldn't have a double standard there. Varric also made an informed choice and decided it was worth risking his life to try anyway.

So facing Solas at the end, on the one hand my Rook realized that while he personally had the awareness and sense of limitation in responsibility to escape he prison... Solas didn't. Solas didn't know how. But the way to honor Varric was to try and show him. Open the door for someone else.

It doesn't make everything Solas did okay or undo anything, but it gives him a future as part of the world where he can still shape things for the better. And he isn't alone either. CRITIQUE OVERVIEW: I enjoyed the game, but there were problems. Some of the biggest ones imo were lore holes/contradictions, sanitized settings and cast, narrative preaching, poorly thought out relationship dynamics in places, extremely bad arc navigation, lack of nuance or room for interpretation, and overall narrative inflexibility. It felt like the game did not want me as a player to have a meaningful impact on the narrative beyond the ending or get to participate in creating a distinct character/story but expected me to be satisfied with superficial scraps. It's counterproductive to the type of gaming experience Bioware is known for. It absolutely felt like the narrative was pressuring me toward some choices, away from others, and going out of its way to try and block me from certain possibilities--not because they were unreasonable but because of controlling devs. I mostly enjoyed combat but there were a few major problems there too--speaking as someone who normally doesn't notice that.

I've seen people get defensive and try to argue that the criticism leveled at Veilguard is because of headcanons not being met. This is factually incorrect. Storytelling is a craft and there are elements you can measure based on evidence, cause/effect, and how various techniques produce results. The things I've mentioned can be discussed with concrete examples to back them up. The problems are legitimate.

Again, I enjoyed playing overall. There were things I liked a lot and I actually appreciated the companions more than most Inquisition companions. 'I like it' and 'it's technically good' are separate categories. I also have sympathy because it sounds like development was hell and at some stage stronger directions were definitely on the table. It's very obvious to me that someone (or a few someones) behind the scenes sabotaged things repeatedly. There are people who were wrongfully fired and there are people who are still working at Bioware who should have been fired instead as far as I'm concerned.

LORE: Not fully going into how many choices in Origins, DA2, and Inquisition were absent, this game cut corners trying to make itself look bigger and more impressive by exploiting the work, care, and investment tied to past games then destroying what came before.

It was not narratively necessary or credible to make Southern Thedas helpless against The Blight. It was not narratively necessary to destroy Ferelden, Orlais, and Orzammar. The developers did this because they wanted players to feel sad and have a heightened sense of stakes, and they wanted the current threat of the evanuris to be framed as beyond anything faced previously. The effect actually produced was that all of the work, strength, and investment players had built in Southern Thedas got undermined and disrespected without actually making the current antagonists look any better. It makes heroes look weak instead of antagonists look strong.

An example of what I'm talking about to clarify. Lets say you're working in a franchise with multiple recurring villains. Villain A has rich history and story arcs where the hero struggled both logistically and personally to overcome them. A storyteller comes along to work with Villain B, and wants audiences to have a real sense of threat with Villain B but isn't sure how to go about building that in a way that stands out. The storyteller decides to have Villain B use Villain A as canon fodder where the hero downs them in seconds in a a single scene on the way to Villain B. Or maybe you see Villain A just destroyed by Villain B with little effort. Villain A is actively made less capable, complex, clever, and self-respecting for this to happen. Villain B doesn't actually do anything particularly capable, complex, or clever in the course of their schemes but the writer insists they were so brutal and capable that audiences should be impressed. Audiences will not have room to experience impactful narratives with Villain A going forward because of how intensely they were diminished. Villain B has earned no respect because everything they accomplished comes through derailment and the author insisting 'because I said so'. The storyteller didn't know how to make Villain B look stronger based on merit, so they made someone else look weaker instead. This sabotages respect and investment.

That is how past games were treated by Veilguard. That is how Southern Thedas was treated.

There were also issues like (for example) the reveal that undead are immune to Blight and this is common knowledge in Nevarra. Nevarra holds status within the Andrastrian Chantry to the point that it is possible to have a Divine who comes from Nevarran nobility--and if she doesn't, she's still serving as Right Hand of the Divine.

There is no longer any reason the Wardens exist, or ever should have existed. There is no reason Circles should have come to be in the form that they had. There is no reason for cremation to have been practiced as a funerary rite. There is no reason it wouldn't be widespread knowledge that spirits can exist as a benevolent force. Logistically, well before Veilguard or even Origins, there should have been skeleton on zombie warfare anytime The Blight reared up so that mortal and vulnerable-to-spreading-Blight people weren't on the front lines. Undead could have been the ones killing archdemons and there would not have been a threat of the archdemon transferring into its killer. Emmerich's mention was there to go 'oh look how cool and capable the Mourn Watch is, Blight can't do anything against the undead!' but that just opened a wholeass can of worms for the history of Thedas.

Additionally. The mechanics of archdemons were erased altogether to make them weaker than they ever were in the series. That was THE final boss of Origins. The game throws at minimum two individual archdemons at the player and leaves a third unfought, and all of the archdemons are minibosses. This is what I mean when I say the past games were degraded in an attempt to make the current game look better.

Sentient darkspawn lost everything about their thought processes and limitations (namely empathy) that made them interesting. See the Gloom Howler versus The Architect. The entire difference in faith between the Andrastrian and Tevinter chantries was thrown out, and there was zero examination of how faith in Tevinter's Old Gods differs from the Tevinter chantry in-turn. (WHERE WAS THE BLACK DIVINE? I KNOW ARCHON RADONIS FUCKED OFF TO NEVARRA OR SOMETHING BUT WHERE TF WAS URIAN NIHALIS?) The entire social structure of The Qun was dissolved in order to have flat brute Antaam antagonists without recognizing how that's like saying the entire legislative branch of US government disavowed America and ran off to conquer Spain or something with no replacement legislative branch. Tbh it's even worse because the Antaam aren't just government officials but thousands of ordinary qunari citizens. Saar-qamek is no longer a serious lobotomization risk. Saarebas are no longer abused and The Qun is no longer understood as practicing slavery (see vidaath-bas) and conquest in its own right. There is no persecution of those who leave the Qun supposedly (unless it's by rebel Antaam, who by rights are tal-vashoth) but also aspects of The Qun that were good like acknowledgment of aqun-athlok got handwaved. Par Vollen just sitting on their hands while tal-vashoth Antaam abuse close allies in Rivain and Antiva does not make sense unless the majority of the original Antaam forces straight up left The Qun and Par Vollen's forces are weak right now. If that is the case, then Tevinter should be going absolutely ham on the forces of Par Vollen as per opportunism. Might explain Minrathous falling if military was elsewhere but like... tell the audience. If it's not the case, Par Vollen should have been going absolutely apeshit on the rogue Antaam.

Slavery as a common, accepted, and financially significant part of Tevinter society is made socially unacceptable in just ten years. Fear of mages and abominations outside Tevinter is barely present as lip service now. Fen'Harel acted alone and had no loyal elven followers whatsoever while the Dalish (acting in direct opposite to everything surrounding Merill) immediately accepted in ten years that their entire culture and religion are not just fake but built on further slavery and exploitation at the hands of elves. Nbd just add Veil Jumpers.

Urthemiel is missing in action. Kieran is also missing in action. What Well of Sorrows? What arc about Morrigan being terrified of losing her personhood to the point of matricide? All of the past antagonist choices made through ambition or jealousy, fear or greed, etc. are now being framed as 'the devil made them do it' via executors as if people are incapable of natural negative impulses. Any hints that The Forgotten Ones could be the Tevinter Old Gods were thrown right out. And like... I'm not inherently opposed to archdemons/the old gods being alternate faces of the evanuris with the evanuris being particularly powerful spirits. The irony that they were elves first is fun. But the evanuris were stressed as being ancient elven mages WAY above anything remotely spirit related, which undermined their power/influence/archetypal nature to a huge degree imo. I'm lowkey mad as hell that we didn't have Elgar'nan sometimes taking a human face and answering to the name Zazikel while dealing with Venatori. When did the other evanuris even die???? Did they die during past Blights with their archdemons or did only the archdemons die? Meanwhile The Forgotten Ones have been made wholly irrelevant and are like some long-lost-cousin plot twist out of a soap opera when it makes no sense for that to be the case. Executors as spooky boogeymen from across the sea are pulled out of left field with no foreshadowing to be the next main antagonists. Templars have no power or relevance anywhere. What are the Venatori even doing anymore? Why isn't there discrimination in Tevinter toward qunari, elves, and especially Dalish elves?

With titans, dwarves, and both lyrium subtypes. I had previously hit the page that blue lyrium ties to reality, physicality, and the world as it exists while the Fade/magic ties to what could be, spirit, and the creation of new possibilities through imagination. Red lyrium as the mad, isolated dreams of titans I can get but I think it was a MASSIVE mistake to leave it as generic madness/anger at being wronged by the spirits who became elves. The Architect/The Messenger both indicate that, without being actively controlled by archdemons, they basically have no instinctive empathy. What I remember from Origins/Awakening also involved darkspawn having instincts like kill/eat/fuck with no regard for harm caused. There was room to do something where divorced from other sentience for so long and even basic physical instincts, when the Blight does find material form all it knows how to process are a sudden influx of reflexes tied to exercising power (after being powerless) and pain that cannot be articulated or understood. The Blight could have been portrayed as something legitimately feral like a human that never learned language or socialized. The idea has a lot of potential and sure like... as a fan I'll explore that. But the devs should have. Harding being upset about selling lyrium doesn't make sense to me because it's like a willing blood donation versus being mauled and left for dead by a vampire. Those are not the same.

I also looked into critique about the altered nature of the Blight in terms of source/progression, and while the devs didn't bother with anything I think I figured out a workable and fun solution so will share that in a later post.

The Antivan Crows of all people being compared to circus freaks BY AN ANTIVAN POLITICAL OFFICIAL with the casino element emphasized in order to voice disrespect made no fucking sense culturally. Ivenci should have been dead for that well before Veilguard. That's like walking into Vlad the Impaler's room and peeing on his shoes while making eye contact. Even getting close enough and getting your pants down to try isn't likely to work--much less getting out of that encounter still in possession of your urethra. I think it's okay to show some Crows are decent folks for assassins and groomed into that without any choice, but the attempt to hardcore moralize the faction is nonsense made even worse by how Lucanis's abuse by his family was framed as acceptable.

'ONLY FEMALE DRAGONS HAVE WINGS' is female supremacist bullshit only introduced to argue that males can't be cool or powerful. It defies established lore about archdemons and dragons in-universe generally. I get that there are vertebrates like anglerfish where the male is tiny and gets absorbed into the body of the female upon mating. I also know that IRL there are all-female gecko species (ex. mourning geckos) that reproduce asexually by cloning themselves, which is a bit similar to what happens in FFXIV. Both of those things are interesting as hell, but for dragons in Thedas specifically those angles don't add anything or even make sense with previous content. The impression matches what I mentioned with the villain situation. There is ZERO cause to cut down male dragons to that extent when you could easily just make the female dragons bigger, stronger, and matriarchal. I'm also looking at this like... for reproduction are males or females supposed to be the choosy sex?????? Are there courtship rituals/is one sex flashier than the other? Is one faster? Why? Both my inner dragon nerd and my inner animal nerd are so pissed that these creatures got made less badass on any front just because someone thought shitting on men was more important than lore or consistency. It's not like there's an indication we've got idk, East Asian-esque male dragons who don't need wings to fly and look awesome while they do.

Taash could have said the title 'Dragon King' is dumb because it's cheesy (if that's even necessary), which raises 'well what do you think of Shadow Dragons' and could turn into fun banter. Taash could have said 'dragons don't do monarchs' and instead gone on a spiel about dragon social structures that enriched lore. But no. The whole point was just to go 'lol men suck and are inferior' and that entire addition can fuck right into the sun.

EDIT: Talked to a buddy who mentioned that there is an issue but it's a different issue than I remembered! Basically, the problem isn't 'male dragons are wingless'. Origins had female, winged high dragons having their nests guarded by a harem of wingless drakes. That makes sense because the wingless males are performing a job and there is incentive to mate with them so there's a swarm of males protecting offspring while the female hunts + not having wings would be tied to them defending nests on the ground. I also wonder if the males would be flashy logistically or not with current game graphics tho bc could be a display for a female and could also warn away potential threats. I'm good with that. The problem is insisting Archdemons are all just high dragons and not something different when the Archdemons have established sexes where some are male. I'd actually have liked a mythozoological info dump from Taash about dragons that brushes up Origins lore. But the presentation and the Archdemon thing were still messes, and the way it was presented read more like shitting on some dragons to man-bash instead of exploring fantasy creatures and their social structures. And tbh my trust in the devs to not do that has been non-existent. So, critique to be made but it's a different one.

I could go on. And thing is, as a fan I'm looking at shit asking myself whether there are potential solutions that add upon worldbuilding (even if the devs didn't bother) versus 'this element cannot be salvaged and has to be discarded'. I've done that before and you can get really fun results that way. And again, I understand there was shit going on behind the scenes. But the execution of lore was horrendous.

SANITIZATION: I touched on this a bit. The Crows as an organization are now good guy freedom fighters all about family no matter what--barring Ilario being a clown. Slavery and racism are suddenly socially unacceptable in Tevinter of all places. The Lords of Fortune, headed by Isabella 'I stole sacred documents from The Qunari for coin', are very culturally sensitive and doing the world a service with their treasure hunting by making sure museums and religious centers are provided for. The Qunari are strict but just a little culturally spicy/the only negatives when it comes to Qunari are the Antaam. The Dalish have no xenophobia and no conflict over the true nature of the evanuris and would never follow Solas OR follow the evanuris/are immediately game to kill their gods with no questions asked. Kal-sharok are just nice all around and have none of the social conflicts or xenophobia of Orzammar, purely victims and too pure for this earth. We hear about how Wardens are often former criminals but Davrin remains on a moral high horse pretty consistently (I do actually like the guy a lot disclaimer) and the only Wardens we encounter who are even unkind are the First Warden, Gloom Howler, and whoever ordered the griffons be killed hundreds of years ago. Templar and mage conflicts, with all the prejudice/suffering/fear associated, are basically gone. Tranquil and even people recovering from past tranquility are gone. It is damn hard to so much as get disapproval with companions and players aren't really given room to disagree with them in meaningful ways. There is one 'Good and Moral' way to think and be for Veilguard. You get to phrase it differently but that's about it. No biases or discriminations in the cast, no serious personal flaws to overcome either individually or culturally.

People. Aren't. Perfect. Not even while trying to be. Not even subscribing to the most current ideas of sensitivity according to particular political ideologies that DO NOT APPLY to the worldbuilding of Thedas--let alone in a uniform way. And there is a massive lack in self-awareness about areas where the devs themselves perpetuate cases of dehumanization, invalidation of suffering/victimhood, and unfortunate cultural implications.

I saw a reddit commenter raise the point that there is a recent pattern of framing qunari as bestial, and it seems racist. People immediately flocked to argue that there are plenty of non-white characters who don't have bestial connotations. I think the actual point was missed and the original observation was not articulated with precision.

It's mostly not a race thing. It's that the Qunari are NON-WESTERN coded. They do draw from Plato's Republic (Greek) but the execution presents them as distinctly non-Western and collectivist. Other cultures in the game are mostly framed as very Western, with a few debatable exceptions for ex. the Dalish. You could argue that the Avaar in Inquisition (with their ties to animism and nature) had some beast themes while Western-coded and were explored respectfully. If instances of non-Western beast themes were also represented respectfully it would help, and if there were multiple non-Western cultures with and without that element even more so. But both the Antaam and Taash specifically with growling/snarling/mindless rage crap? That's awkward. The two qunari loyal to The Qun without beast expression that we see either die or exit stage left without allowing room to explore the subject much. When again, the majority of the story leans hard into Western culture regardless of racial demographics--having the one decidedly non-Western coded culture presented that way? Not great. It isn't like we've seen human, elven, or dwarven reavers hulk out the way kossith qunari do. It's not like we have human, elven, or dwarven characters growling and snarling while being heavily compared to animals.

Inquisition had crazed templars/mages explode into muscular hissing messes while the tal-vashoth in DA2 and qunari in Origins had a variety of personalities, mindsets, and behaviors. Those things help avoid making it weird and culturally targeted for those games. Veilguard wasn't great there.

Meanwhile holy fuck the handling of Lucanis's story was a wreck. Victim of severe child abuse and torture rescues his abuser. Her first move upon encountering him again is to try and beat him with the same cane she used when he was a kid. He kisses her on the cheeks shortly afterward. If he so much as imprisons his cousin who sent him to be tortured and killed by the Venatori, he's framed as mean/unforgiving as if it wouldn't be 50000% correct to kill that fucker right there. 'But faaaaamilyyyyyyy' no. That is grossly unacceptable to do to another human being, let alone family. It's not okay. And stripping Lucanis of agency AGAIN after that year of torture, after he was forcibly implanted with a demon who made him afraid to even sleep because he won't have control of his own body, after he was trapped in abuse and murder since childhood--lmao u r First Talon now even though u explicitly don't want that position. Hooray for FAMILY you are a hero!!!!!1!!

Vile and hypocritical. And the game presents everything as if it cannot conceive of the idea that anyone might have a reasonable objection.

The attempted sanitization hugely compromises immersion and credibility of the narrative on the one hand, limits the scope of human potential/thought/expression on the other, and only makes it more egregious when the storytellers expose their own ideas about acceptable targets.

PREACHING/PLAYER CHOICE/NUANCE: Veilguard struggles to respectfully consider a variety of perspectives and values, in-universe and in what options are available to players.

I'm going to use Emmerich as an example. Emmerich has been absolutely terrified of death since he was a child. Emmerich has been working to protect and respect the dead along with spirits for his whole life. He has an assistant in Manfred, a spirit of curiosity animating a skeleton. Emmerich wants to become a lich so he can completely avoid death and also continue safeguarding spirits/the dead, but that process carries risk and he needs to pass a character test first.

Meanwhile, there are multiple spirits being tortured via a device that threatens to cause mass casualties. Emmerich tries to dismantle the device once, realizes it's really dangerous/he could get killed, freaks out and steps away. He's afraid to try again because he might die. Manfred, who has been starting to speak and shows growing intelligence about the world/people, throws himself in harm's way to retrieve the device and get it to Emmerich. Manfred is killed in the process.

Emmerich tries to dismantle the device again and succeeds.

Emmerich could revive Manfred, a brave spirit who confronted the unknown of death because he cared about and wanted to protect others. Manfred is just starting to grow into himself and has so much to learn. This would mean that Emmerich also has to accept his own mortality as he has been informed he would be rejected from lichdom if he does this revival. He would have to stand shoulder to shoulder with Manfred as equals and treat the unknown of death not as something to run from but sometime to discover with a level of curiosity. Or, he could keep running from death to abandon Manfred and pursue his own personal ambitions of lichdom with the prestige it offers.

I chose to bring Manfred back. The narrative framed this as Emmerich being unable to cope with or accept personal loss, making him a weaker person and unworthy of his lich aspirations. Because selfish ambition at another's expense is the quality you want in a bunch of powerful undying guardians. When you ask if Emmerich regrets his choices he goes 'yeah my dream is crushed but I'd regret not saving Manfred more'. There wasn't really reflection or growth there. Both in that moment and earlier, players are framed as if disagreeing with Emmerich's goal is just crushing someone's dreams and being intolerant because it's a spooky lifestyle.

Lichdom is an avoidance tactic for Emmerich. If the point is to protect others, it's more important to do it well and sincerely than for a long time. It's important to be able to put selfish ambitions and fears aside to protect others in that position because the potential to abuse power is pretty huge. Emmerich had his protectiveness of spirits/the dead pit against his own ambitions, and the story acts like not enabling his ambitions makes you an asshole.

THAT is preachy as hell. Being told you made Lucanis merciless for daring to imprison Ilario is preachy as hell. And there are A LOT of further examples across many characters (frankly some even more egregious), where the narrative tries to instruct audiences on how to navigate social situations with no reasonable opportunity to disagree.

It is not appropriate for a video game that is supposed to let players shape the narrative. The video game isn't there to tell players who they're supposed to be and it isn't an authority on that subject. It can examine perspectives and why someone might think the way they do, but pressuring players to comply or be morally shamed is ridiculous. And honestly? If a player wants to do an asshole/evil run LET THEM DO IT. IT'S A GAME.

Origins, DA2, and Inquisition all gave room to players to explore many different viewpoints and values while trying to understand the merit in each possibility. That was not the case in Veilguard, and it not only made the experience less fun--it also flattened out antagonists to a huge degree by making them strawmen and caricatures who are evil because they are evil.

RELATIONSHIP DYNAMICS: I really enjoyed aspects of Lucanis's romance a TON and love his character to bits, but agree with the critique that the game held back too much. This doesn't mean I advocate immediate gratification as some fans are trying to argue. I actually liked that Lucanis panicked and fled the room for the almost-kiss scene. But there should have been at least one consummated kiss before the final quests. Fenris was similarly nervous and dealing with trauma, he got a kiss scene. It's possible to do that. Felt like there were a lot of missing moments and the third act in particular was sparse.

I liked that Lucanis made a dessert for Rook. It still felt like that exchange was cut off at the knees and there were more significant scenes outside it that players didn't get to participate in. Massive shame imo. The background relationships Bioware put in felt forced. No substance or chemistry, hit a point of reading gratuitous and 'pair the spares' like there was something wrong with being single. And listen, I have a history of trying to find angles to work ships between any two randos as a personal challenge. These ships, particularly in how they were executed, felt deeply uninspired to me.

I am all for 'sometimes in a time of crisis while trying to save the world, people stumble into love along the way'. Most scifi/fantasy romances fall into categories like that. Characters are largely focused on other stuff, shit happens anyway. But especially when there are so many other factors at play there should be something to the dynamic omfg.

Harding getting paired off felt like insult to injury when A) I rejected the 'official' options to flirt with Harding and only Harding through DAI, achieved canon 'they are dating' in Trespasser even though there was never an official card acknowledging it or a kiss scene B) when asked about the Inquisitor Harding just goes 'yeah that's not a normal person I don't associate' like wtf C) Harding dies if you are not willing to murder a baby griffon in cold blood. There was no way to opt out of Harding being shipped if Rook wasn't with her and you befriended Harding and Taash. It wasn't as if there were parallels between Harding and Taash either, ways they shaped each other's growth, anything beyond tall and small really. It felt insanely shallow and kind of spiteful tbh. Neve and Lucanis I know about because I've seen cutscenes about it online, I think it was token hetero romance between humans. What, they both drink coffee? Mage and mage killer? Again I just do not see any chemistry. Lucanis is in a vulnerable spot, Neve can be kind of resentful without much consideration beyond her own interests for a good stretch. I wound up liking Neve because of how her arc unfolded in my game but I was really annoyed at her for a bit and I still don't think she and Lucanis specifically are compatible. Lucanis is prone to making himself extremely low priority next to others and the task at hand, Neve can be blind to others if they aren't tied to Dock Town's well-being. Given the Treviso versus Minrathous choice and what I've gathered, it doesn't seem like there's much room for them to really enhance each other's development.

Emmerich/Strife is city versus forest mage between two older dudes and that's basically it. I'm lowkey annoyed that Strife doesn't have an elven name to begin with but that aside he just feels very generic as a character imo. What arc is he going through? Does he have hopes, fears, any personal details of his own not shared by other Veil Jumpers? Did he have a clan or family? Was he raised Dalish or did he join from an alienage? We don't know.

Neve/Bellara would actually be cute, make sense, and have shit they can each draw from. They go out of their way to cheer each other up and entertain each other with the serials, the respect and appreciation between a human Tevinter mage and a Dalish elven mage under the circumstances is interesting and offers room for pretty solid discussion on magic, history, culture, and personal relationships to all factors. Bellara and Neve are going through similar situations in a lot of ways in terms of the identities of the old gods and evanuris. I think I remember Bellara cooked something for Neve specifically too. They have kind of opposite things going on with responsibility--Bellara blames herself for things that aren't remotely her fault, Neve feels like other people let her down all the time, but Neve also recognizes Bellara and tries to uplift her/be aware of her situations. They could actually build into each other's arcs and give each other room to grow.

AND YET, the devs went out of their fucking way to have Bellara go OH NEVE IS LIKE A SISTER. Dude, let your players ship them jesus christ if people want to go with 'and they were lesbians' why are you barring the way wtf.

And lbr Davrin/Lucanis could be so good, I absolutely loved their dynamic. Stood out as distinct, added to both of their development arcs, parallels on corruption, funny as fuck, not afraid to challenge each other. I'm fine with them as friends but would totally support that ship too. Like shit, what the fuck would Davrin even do if he learned Lucanis hasn't actually had a relationship before when they'd been flirting? He's had this image of a very untrustworthy, unflappable, remorseless assassin but guy is shy and skittish with romantic stuff.

It's not like past Dragon Age games didn't have companion ships in the background. Dorian/Iron Bull--fucking solid. Cultural backgrounds, compared levels of comfort in their own skin, banter + willingness to challenge each other. Legitimately interesting. Fenris/Isabella, the very opposite personalities (serious vs more playful, brooding vs live-and-let-live) but common ground in mischief/teasing was 100% respectable. But I think past games kind of understood not to overload the amount of canon ships because it could be distracting, might not always have chemistry or be something that audiences want. Veilguard it felt like crap was getting shoved down my throat constantly while the devs wagged their fingers at me going 'YOU AREN'T ALLOWED TO SHIP XYZ, THIS SHIP HERE IS MANDATORY'.

I think I saw someone from the dev team comment that they went out of their way to cram in background ships. From what I remember there was a mentality of 'you are not the center of the universe player they'll find other people' but like. They're there to save the world. They aren't speed dating. If chemistry is present cool but again, companion pairings happened in the past already. Players know the characters are doing shit when the player isn't spending time with them and ships could happen. There's no need to 'teach' anyone that.

Why are you forcing people to eat your undercooked ships Bioware? No one even ordered this and you're trying to give us all food poisoning. Take it back.

ARC NAVIGATION: Harding was solid, Neve became solid because I twisted her arm, Emmerich I think was a mess for previously mentioned reasons, Lucanis I think was a mess because of abuse apologism/'the abuse victim has to say it's okay' and because his story was set up as someone who has lacked agency his whole life being denied agency again at the end. The choice never should have been about what to do with Ilario, but Lucanis becoming First Talon or defying Caterina and leaving the Crows.

Davrin was okay but there needed to be a point he realized he himself is capable of being a monster not because of the Blight in his blood but choices he makes. I think it would make sense for him to not become a monstrous person, but being aware he could if he dehumanizes others I think would have made more sense. He who fights monsters and all that.

Taash I think was an actual clusterfuck and deserved so much better. People have critiqued 'Be Qunari'/'Be Rivaini' and I agree with the critique--that felt like a weird cultural supremacy thing trying to make Rivain better and more enlightened than The Qun on all fronts. It was a false dichotomy for a multicultural character imo. I actually wanted to see Taash explore their Qunari heritage and try to understand it better when they'd previously blanket-rejected shit, but the game was framing that as intolerant/'they could neeeeever be themself in that culture'. Thing is, Taash has the freedom to pick and choose what resonates. They don't have to obey blindly, and they don't need to let The Qun dictate their gender identity either. They realized after Shathann's death that they'd never actually understood her properly, and imo the best way to honor their mother would be to try and understand better even if they didn't agree all the time. But that was not how the game framed the choice.

I actually think Taash needed to learn to be a better listener and to reflect/try to understand people outside themself more. They were awful to their mother when she didn't even reject them--was just trying to understand what they were saying about the gender stuff. Taash's character seemed like they had more empathy for dragons than other people tbh, and I'd have preferred to see a choice reflecting whether they continued focusing just on their own wants or if they factored in others more. Not 'everything is about me'/'nothing is about me', but stepping more in one or the other direction.

Bellara's story felt kind of incoherent to me. It seemed like from the outset, she was being challenged in a similar way to Rook in terms of 'where does your agency stop and another person's begins'. She was blaming herself for what happened to Cyrian before learning he was alive, as if he didn't have his own choices in the face of risk. I was very irritated that when it came out he was borderline possessed by Anaris, she kept blaming him as if he still had full agency and awareness. I think I remember her saying he should have died or something? Insanely fucked up. And then her choice is 'do I trust people to make their own choices given knowledge of the past, not knowing if the knowledge will be used for good or bad ends, or do I limit people's potential and keep them in the dark to avoid others making choices I might not like'. The choice felt really creepy in part because of being abstract, and creepier because the game was pressuring toward getting rid of the Archive like 'WHAT IF VENATORI LEARN ABOUT THINGS WHAT IF WE BECOME CONQUERORS'.

I think there are two better options on how to progress for Bellara. 1) Cyrian comes back and it becomes a question of how to react to compromised agency/do you have compassion for someone in a trap not able to act freely or do you say that doesn't matter because harm was caused. 2) Cyrian doesn't come back, focus is kept the Archive revealing both information that could save a lot of lives/inform people about their past but also really dangerous shit--with Bellara having to decide if she's going to let people make their own choices or try to control and limit the outcome. I think her arc was trying to do too many things at once and so her development wound up super confusing.

With Rook, I think there wasn't enough time given to Varric and his situation before the final quests. Imo the game was so focused on maintaining a surprise reveal that it undermined the character development attached. Rook struggling with Varric's death more, whether they encouraged him to try to talk Solas down or told him it was a bad idea, felt like it needed more time to actually ground out that there WAS a sense of guilt there. Seeing 'Varric' really struggling with the injury, trying to talk to 'Varric' about what motivated him/how he continued to feel about both Solas and past losses in his life, would have made sense and gone a long way on that front. Rook can know about Bartrand and try to speculate on how that might have impacted Varric's choice, and about Hawke, and Anders, and even potentially about the Inquisitor a bit. They can reflect about Cole and about stories Varric has told them and how they think Varric felt personally about his own experiences. I think trying to empathize with Varric, who he was, what his experiences were, would make a lot of sense both in terms of wrestling with the loss but also in terms of Rook accepting that Varric made his own choice for his own reasons and it was never for anyone else to decide.

I know for my Rook, again like... prison of regret didn't work very well. Mostly he went through the game and was able to make the separation. Varric was meant to be more complicated and difficult, but there just wasn't enough attention given TO Varric before the reveal imo for the impact to carry clearly and at full strength. And honestly, Varric deserved more focus if he was going to get killed off like that.

Morrigan I think there needed to be clarity that she was not herself Mythal given how fucking scared she was of losing her identity. While we're at it, Flemmeth also wasn't Mythal. They were themselves but carried Mythal as one facet of who they are. If anything, they both became closer to abominations given Mythal was a spirit--but emphasizing that identity was not lost or destroyed I think mattered.

Solas imo was solid.

COMBAT: I mentioned that I normally don't notice this much but jesus fucking christ the revenant fights. I felt like I'd been thrown into a soulsborne game out of nowhere. Asked a friend and it's because everyone always aggros at you unless you come with a tank/the other characters have no health to lose. If you are a mage u r cooked. And the healing mechanic the most difficult enemies got just made me angry tbh. It felt like being told the work I'd put in didn't count.

Realtalk I didn't like the lack of party control in FFXVI when they did it there. Veilguard was a little better because at least you could give a party member a command periodically, but I didn't like the limitation here either.

I would have preferred more differentiation between the mage skills and the mage companion skills. When characters do the same shit it feels annoying and redundant to me. I also think there were too many mages in the party and Bioware might need to sit down and think about balance.

I played as a mage because I haven't since Origins. There were three other mages in the party, leaving a total of four. It felt completely excessive, and I generally try to have a warrior and/or rogue with me to help balance so I didn't get to travel with the other mage companions as much. Bellara being kind of a tinkerer was interesting as hell, I don't know if she strictly needed to be a mage for that. I know Bioware tends to do an archer rogue and a knife rogue most of the time, along with a sword-and-shield warrior + two-handed weapon warrior. If there's going to be more than two companions per class, imo it might be worth it to put in another combat option for variety. Tinkering/traps/status effects maybe?

DIALOGUE: I actually thought most of the voice acting was pretty strong. Want to particularly shout out Taash's VA not only for a distinct and believable delivery (I didn't love some of the actual lines but Jin Maley did a great job with what was given imo), but also holy shit respect for the scene when Shathann died. I wasn't a huge fan of Bellara's voice acting, and I'm sad that Bioware has completely thrown out the idea that different cultures have different accents. Ex. The Dalish sounding Irish from DA2 was really really cool and I miss it. I remember the dwarves usually have American accents but there were so many American accents elsewhere this time that it actually broke my immersion a bit.

I was distracted by my Rook's voice acting. Didn't feel like there was a noticeable difference between male British at low or medium but more than that--voice was too similar to male British Inquisitor's on the one hand while on the other there were places delivery felt kind of awkward. Sounded like Inquisitor's voice got pitched lower to me and idk if I'm imagining it. I like the fem VAs for Rook a ton at medium pitch, American male VA I need to investigate more but when I tested it wasn't really into that performance.

The actual dialogue, I think there were issues with modern language/slang as a whole. A lot of the lines were very awkward and lacking subtlety, dialogue options when given a wheel to choose felt extremely limited, and there were few ways to express sorrow about anything in-game without either 'I'm sorry' or self-blame specifically.

A friend of mine said that it felt like the game didn't give players enough room to define Rook's personality through dialogue variation. I was skeptical going in but really felt that in practice. There were a couple of moments I felt like I could get something resembling the voice I was after in terms of words and sentiment, but they were sparse and I'm annoyed about it.

I enjoyed most of the banter, it was very fun and cute.

CHARACTER CREATOR: Fan fucking tastic tbh. Someone heard the protests about Inquisition's six flavors of bald and the terror of horizontal hairline and vowed not to repeat sins past. Graphics are great, no more greasy look, solid control over features. I wish there was better labeling on some of the adjustments and that the eyes had better width and shape options. I will also say for Qunari specifically--I think something needs to be done about the hairline. I keep going to bangs so the forehead doesn't look huge and weirdly shaped but there are limited options. If you get bangs, the sides of the head are buzzed or shaved. Managing but it would be nice to have more variety.

DESIGNS: Whyyyyyyyyyyyy don't we get any black or gray armors. Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy can't we see previews of shit before purchasing? Whyyyyyyyyyy do certain outfits use metal that doesn't go with anything? Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyy is that one all white outfit impossible to obtain even when you view all of Solas's memories?

Some armors are decent. Some are weird and poop.

I think the actual companion designs are pretty good overall too. I like Ghilan'nain's look a lot but kind of hate Elgar'nan's. Isabella's concept art was way better. I like the amount of pus and bulbousness put into the Blight and darkspawn but I think some of the designs/colors needed refining there.

Listen, I like vibrancy a lot so it didn't bother me that the game had more of that generally. Just would have liked a little more for black/white stuff too. I think the companions read pretty visually distinct from each other while having enough in-common visually to feel cohesive. I would like more options ofc but that's no surprise lmao.

FACTIONS: Despite being a Shadow Dragon I never felt any personal connection at all with my faction or anyone in it besides Neve maybe. Also, name and catchphrase weren't great imo. It also read as very divorced from the actual people who needed help because the devs shied away from showing slavery, which was annoying. I'm extremely annoyed at the Lords of Fortune for reasons previously mentioned. The Crows I like the characters a lot but I think it's a major problem that they were framed as purely noble and nice within being assassins. I think Teia and Viago are great but I also think the ongoing practice of child abuse to make assassins needed examination. It could have been interesting to see which Crows are continuing to perpetuate that and which are rejecting it. The Wardens felt like a lot of the competence was undermined, the actual presence of criminals in their ranks was an informed attribute, and I miss my Warden-Commander so much. The Mourn Watch is fun but I think there were problems because the devs were treating the dead kind of closer to very expensive party city skeletons or pets rather than full people at times. Without value for the living and life, there can't be true understanding or respect for death. I also think it's a problem that stigma was framed as people just being mean and intolerant of someone's career because spooooooooky instead of individuals facing a heavy subject that might be religiously charged. Also though, the devs shot themselves in the foot so many times trying to stress how cool and beyond competent the Mourn Watch is instead of just letting the Mourn Watch be cool. See 'the undead can't be Blighted'. The Veil Jumpers felt shallow and like there was a whole lot of Dalish angst/conflict about the gods that got completely omitted to their detriment. More could have been done, they were all massively hurt by the sanitization issue.

ANTAGONISTS: This was one of the biggest failures of the game. I could go into individual characters here but it would be the same refrain over and over again so I'm going to speak broadly.

Solas being an exception, the developers refused to even entertain how or why a person with complex thoughts, loves, hates, hopes, fears, and ordinary moments could perpetuate horrific acts. The entire game had zero concept of the principle 'everyone is the hero in their own story'. Empathy, good intentions, past trauma, trying to protect something--there was zero examination to speak of. Antagonists were abstract 'others', just monsters in human skin who no decent person could ever become. There is no understandable goal. There is no negotiation. People are evil because they are evil and if you try to understand it might just make you evil too.

And tbh, having that approach should disqualify a storyteller at the outset. That is an unacceptable level of incompetence.

I would be able to understand (not agree obviously, but understand) if the Venatori were fighting to preserve slavery because Tevinter's economy would take a huge hit without it and there is a non-zero chance that while they're trying to restructure, the Andrastrian Chantry might invade and attempt to punish/control Tevinter's mages Pretty sure that happened before. And if the Chantry didn't attack, Par Vollen very well might.

If Elgar'nan saw and was upset by the conflicts and violence that had swept Thedas for millenia, it would explain why he wanted to take absolute control. I've personally seen someone say they wished mass mind-control was a thing because they could use that to stop people from fighting and behave 'the way they're supposed to'. Absolutely disturbing sacrifice of free will in the name of peace at any cost. Elgar'nan could have been of that mindset and it could have been something to examine.

Instead we got sadists for sadism's sake, evil for evil's sake. Over and over again. No reason. The Antaam allying with the Venatori made ZERO sense and contradicted the deep rooted Qunari fear of mages (let alone red lyrium-weilding mages), but they're being dehumanized into stupid brutes who only value strength anyway so who cares right?

When you make everyone you find morally repulsive a strawman, when you file them as irrevocably 'other' and something you could never have anything in-common with, you open yourself to the greater likelihood of falling into the same trap. Under what circumstances might YOU become unimaginably cruel? Who are YOUR acceptable targets? What do YOU let slide because you think it's for a greater good? Fear, selfishness, convenience, apathy toward others. Having suffered an injustice and using anger/power to hurt others to make sure you never feel helpless again. Caring about something so much that you'll destroy anyone that even might cause it harm.

Power and cruelty for their own sakes are meaningless, but that's all the devs were willing to think about.

Also to clarify part of the issue. I'm pretty sure that the devs would argue Elgar'nan is a litterer because he's evil and evil people litter. Elgar'nan eats kitten because why would an evil, evil person be decent to kittens? If he was nice to kittens then those had to be evil kittens. Elgar'nan would NEVER read The Randy Dowager, but if he did then anyone else who read The Randy Dowager would become evil by association. He cannot so much as brush his teeth without it being a malevolent act.

That's the level of strawman he and pretty much all the other antagonists are. It's ridiculous.

CONCLUSION: Like I said, I have other thoughts/directions based on holes left by the devs. I didn't hate the game. There were totally things I had fun with. But I do think it deserves criticism, and by admitting those criticisms I think fans have the opportunity to address them on their own terms with fan content.

Larian overdid post-release edits, removed things that were good, and put in shit that actually lowered the game's quality. I think if Bioware wants to recover from the abysmal sales being reported for this at all, they actually should do post-release edits like Larian to actually fix crap. I doubt they will and even if they did idk that it would work because they'd need to get someone with a very different approach to assist, but that's what I'd advise.

[kohakhearts]

Zelos 22, Kohaku 18&19!

thanks yume!!^^

22: if you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? something you don't like?

you know, i feel like zelos is one of those characters i’ve never actually seen an interpretation of in a fic that didn’t feel in-character. like he so would fucking say that! i think this is because of how deeply his Problems are tied into his annoying behaviours - you really can’t take away one without disrupting the other. so people who hate him because he’s an obnoxious womanizer still have to acknowledge his trauma and people who love him because he’s so Deep and Complex still have to acknowledge that he’s a problematic jerk.

that being said, i really like seeing people explore his womanizing behaviours in fics in more depth. i read this fic probably not long after its post date, so like…9 years ago? and it’s stuck with me all this time as like, peak zelos. i think the idea of him using women for non-sexual intimacy was something i hadn’t really thought of before but made so much sense when i read this fic and i love seeing that explored in other ways by other people too!

as for dislike, again i can’t think of much…i guess it’d be erasing his womanizing completely, but i really haven’t seen that very much (if at all?) lol.

18: how about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

i’m a sucker for sibling duos and kohaku and hisui have such a fun dynamic! the overprotective older brother archetype is often annoying for its inherent sexism lol and i can’t say that’s not happening here too (especially in hearts r, if memory serves), but i mean…of course hisui is overprotective, just look at everything they’ve been through! something i really like about hearts is how in the early parts of the game kohaku is a passive actor but still dominates the narrative - hisui’s concern for her creates such interesting dynamics between him and the other characters (namely shing lol) because it’s clear how unbalanced he feels by the position she’s in, and i think it also sets a strong tone for how those dynamics play out later on when she does regain her spirunes and she actively encourages him to be less grumpy lol. i just think it’s neat how much it shows how much he actually relies on her, even though his whole schtick is being the dependable older brother that SHE can rely on. idk if this makes sense but yeah. them <3

my runner-up here is her relationship with richea. it’s SO interesting, and also a little ??? because wow, what a weird situation. there’s so much potential there to explore imo and i think the game kind of drops the ball with it in favour of developing the dynamic between richea and hisui, which…fair enough, but also kohaku is so intertwined in richea’s whole. everything. i just would’ve loved to see that expanded on more than it was.

19: how about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?

this is kind of a random pick but chalcedony tbh. i feel like in vanilla hearts the other characters often became kinda secondary to shing when chalcedony was around and i’m not sure hearts r really fixed that by adding him to the party? idk maybe this is selective memory on my part but i just would’ve liked to see a more fleshed out dynamic between him and any of the other characters but especially kohaku, who is obviously pretty implicated in the initial antagonism between him and the party/shing. like it was definitely touched on but clearly not in a way that stuck out for me because i can’t remember any interactions they actually had lol. to be fair i didn’t get to the point of him joining the party in hearts r so it’s possible there are interactions i never saw that would sway my opinion here but yeah. it’s been many years since i played hearts so my memory is pretty fuzzy…maybe i should continue the replay i started a couple years ago haha

character ask game

[sole-soul-survivor]

Someone needs to tell me I’m making bad decisions

Because I just started another fan fiction.

It’s also a Princess story au-

It’s a Cinderella Story based off FFXV

Disclaimers:

Slightly canon-divergent. This will be happy, like, pretty damn happy if I can help it.

Cindy’s parents were Lucis nobility, Cid is still a top-class engineer in Hammerhead don’t worry. Still very hick because I like him that way.

Ardyn is less of a threat but he is the big bad of this story. He’s gonna be Ardyn icky Izunia still, but he’s not going to be as big of a threat as he is in the game 💀

There will be heavy mentions of abuse and neglect, it’s a Cinderella story-

Also the main ship is the Chocobros, gonna air that out right now. They all deserve so much love so I’m giving them each other.

-Summary-

Prompto hadn’t asked to be brought to the Aurum Estate, hadn’t asked to be raised by Ardyn Izunia to become an assassin alongside his clone of a brother Loqi, and hadn’t asked to usurp the Aurum family line in favor of establishing themselves in Lucis high society. Cindy was always kind to him, whenever she wasn’t in Hammerhead with her Grandfather in order to escape her horrible step-father Lord Izunia, that is.

He’d been raised to kill. He knew that. It had been drilled into him from his first steps.

But the moment he’d hesitated, that’s when hell swallowed him up. Because when you’re bred and raised to do something you wish not to pursue, the only intelligent thing to do is to initiate behavioral protocol. Obedience training, is what Ardyn had called it.

Prompto grew up isolated, unknowing of his true origins due to the fact that Ardyn couldn’t trust him with the information after he’d acknowledged that Prompto wasn’t going to fulfill his ‘purpose’. And, unfortunately for Ardyn, getting rid of Prompto would be suspicious. So Prompto was made to do the estates hard labor. While attending school to clarify appearances.

But he had a secret, one he’d never share with Lord Izunia, not even for the world.

Crown Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum was his best friend. The only person who ever seemed to understand him.

And also his ‘intended’ target.

So Prompto exists in this life of constant secrecy and repetition. And when his best friend’s three-day birthday festival and ball is brought to life throughout the kingdom, all he wants to do is be there to support him.

That is his only wish, until the idea of leisurely fun at the festival is scraped from his mind upon hearing his family’s plan of action.

Loqi was to assassinate the prince within those three days. And Prompto was banned from interfering.

So naturally, he’s granted the opportunity to attend and save the life of his friend due to a mysterious stranger in their downstairs garden.

Imagine his surprise when this leads him into the arms of three men on each night of this festival.

Three beautiful nights.

Is that all it takes to erase the past? To forgive Prompto for every horrible thing he’d ever been trained to do?

Just three nights?

——————————————-

This isn’t the official summary don’t worry, these are just my thoughts on the plot so far. I hear that ffxv has been brought back to life a bit recently so here I am trying to help the noble cause.

[sagiow]

15 questions

tagged by @tough-n-dumb, thanks friend!

Were you named after anyone?

Not “after”, per se, but my dad “discovered” my name after making a new friend in the glorious Montreal Red Light Disco District... who turned out to be an Italian exotic male dancer (he never told my mom that’s where he got the inspiration from until 30-some years later)

My middle name is my mom’s because my frazzled, mid-20s, overwhelmed first-time parents hadn’t thought of one before he went to register my birth so he kinda blanked and went with hers and she was pissed off because she doesn’t  like her name.

0/2, Papa.

When was the last time you cried?

Some time in the last month.

Do you have kids?

Two, elementary school age, although the eldest is solidly in his tweens and giving me a fantastic preview of the fun years ahead.

Do you use sarcasm?

Just did, didn’t I?

Actually, much less than I used to when I was younger. Mostly for joking around  or ranting about our incompetent colleagues with my work wife.

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Not to sound like a hippie on Main, but I’d say their energy? Their vibe? Some people come off as very warm, and others colder (and some, downright antipathic). Some have this bubbling, crackling energy to them, others are super chill and calm. Some have this spark of intelligence or quick wit about them, and others make you wonder if there’s anybody home. So a bit of all of that.

A smile, greeting and eye contact (can all be super quick, just acknowledge you see the other person) go a long way in giving off good vibes, so we’ll definitely start on the wrong foot if the other person doesn’t do any of those. Be polite.

What’s your eye color?

Brown

Scary movies or happy endings?

I don’t like scary / horror movies with gore and torture. I do enjoy a good ghost story (the Gothicker, the better) and some psychological horror.

Love happy endings although unhappy ones definitely inspire a lot more fanfic.

Any special talents?

I never look at the picture when doing jigsaw puzzles and WILL complete it before you do.

Where were you born?

Province of Québec, Canada

What are your hobbies?

Phew... there’s a few, and they tend to be seasonal. Summer is reading, hiking, baseball, gardening, camping. Other seasons have baking, crochet, watching TV, playing old-school computer games, and getting ready for whatever holiday or birthday is upcoming. Puzzles and writing year-round (if inspiration striked and fellow fans are around!)

Have any pets?

2 cats (and often at least another because we are a foster family to our local rescue), 2 rabbits and 4 3 chicken (found one dead yesterday after that major storm / tornado passed. Her ancient 3 year old heart couldn’t handle it. RIP Matante.)

What sports do/have you played?

Phew... there’s a few there too. I’m always down to play pretty much anything with a ball (beach volleyball! street ball hockey!), but on the other hand, will probably get my Canadian citizenship revoked at some point because I do no winter sport except for snowshoeing and some shitty skating.

I played provincial-level softball and badminton in school. I did recreational synchronized swimming, various styles of dance, varsity basketball. Now, I play softball, tennis (although my dad is aggressively trying to draft me into pickleball), try to get in a game of golf or two per summer (every addition to this sentence makes me feel 10 years older). In non-summer, I practice aikido, and love hiking, especially in the fall.

How tall are you?

5′7″, or 170cm

Favorite subject at school?

History and Drama in High School, Anthropology and some of my Forensics classes in University (”no applied science”, you ask? meh, not really. Science was me playing Life on Safe Mode).

Dream Job?

I would’ve loved to study Anthropology further and become an archeologist (although I did take one Biological / Genetic Anthro class that was absolutely fascinating and made me reconsider Things) but I’d had enough Academia back then. I wanted to get a job, stop being beyond broke, and travel.

Nowadays I get this massive urge to dump everything corporate and move someplace with shorter, kinder winters, ideally not too far from the sea, and get a bunch of goats and chicken, fruit trees and grapevines, grow a shitload of tomatoes and eggplant, bake bread daily, and write in the evenings. Just need to win the lottery first but then I’m makin’ it happen.

tagging (apologies for the double tags if you got them, I lost track) @jomiddlemarch, @tortoisesshells, @fericita-s, @combat-librarian, @divinecomedienne, @luarenah

[girderednerve]

i went to the baseball hall of fame! here's a very long post about it!

it's not a very good museum, but i found it sort of hypnotically compelling. there are many extremely interesting objects in the baseball hall of fame, alongside some junk, but mostly there's very little effort to actually propose or illustrate any particular baseball narrative and the whole curatorial perspective is deeply conservative (small c, but nevertheless).

the galleries are nominally sorted into exhibits, but in practice only a few areas were actually findable & delineated; most of the space is given to cases of baseball objects, which are not particularly sorted or contextualized, through which one sort of meanders until one stumbles across a dedicated exhibit. we managed to just catch the tail end of their exhibition about the history of black baseball, which was i thought very well-done. if you have been to museums since 2020 you will have noticed that several of them made rather frantic efforts to be more inclusive & aware, with sometimes obvious disagreement among whoever was putting together the exhibit; for example, this exhibit used "black," "African-American," and, on just one placard which implicated inaugural baseball commissioner kenesaw mountain landis in the segregation of baseball, "Black." i am always fascinated by choices like these, especially given that the baseball hall of fame relies heavily on corporate donors and strong, friendly relationships with MLB teams to exist. outside of this exhibit, any time racist discrimination was acknowledged, the conventional formulation that someone was excluded "because of the color of his skin" was employed, which was of course infuriatingly lazy & obscurantist.

other highlights included a fun exhibit about women in baseball, which kept things pretty light, although it did also point out that the gender segregation of sports has always been an aggressively enforced choice (a woman signed to a minor league contract had her employment terminated by the baseball commissioner after a single game, for example). also there was a little bit about effa manley, which was cool because she's my favorite hall of famer (i'm gay & she's the only woman in there). they also have a creepy-looking set of statues of famous fans right at the top of the stairs, and a timeline of changes in baseball stadiums, which was characteristically light on the incredibly fraught urban politics surrounding large sports arenas & blithely asserted that these arenas bring in many measurable benefits, although this claim is, um, contested at best. i was absolutely sure that there'd be like, plans of the stadiums, because baseball is unique in that each baseball field is different & has different dimensions, which is so strange & silly, but they didn't do that. instead there was a big sign about how the stadium is "holy ground" for baseball fans, whatever that means.

the baseball hall of fame is self-consciously the keeper of the story of baseball, but it's very light on any baseball that happens outside of the united states; there was an exhibit about the latino experience in baseball (the only exhibit, btw, with spanish translations of the text) which documented some caribbean leagues, including, very briefly, the mexican league, but it was weirdly squished in a corner & didn't have enough space to go into detail. the records hall also included a few more or less random items for record-holders from the japanese NPB, but there was nothing for other leagues, even the KBO. this was a strange choice to me because the international history of baseball is very interesting & as you might imagine very fraught & openly tied to a history of american military occupation. (the baseball hall of fame plaques have rosettes under the plaques for veterans of WWII, but that's almost it for talking about the army, although the museum offers veteran and active-duty discounts.)

the actual hall of fame was kind of astonishingly horrible (very bright, pretty crowded, limited seating, unfortunate statues of babe ruth & ted williams). my experience was not improved by the multiple dudes in jerseys who elbowed past me to take pictures of plaques for guys they like, although i can't be too mean about it because now i have a selfie in front of old hoss radbourn's plaque. the hall of fame is stodgy & annoying, mostly because the members of the baseball writers' association, who do all the selection voting, are so stingy & convinced that almost no one now is as good as the greats of the past (obvious nonsense). there are a bunch of self-aggrandizing quotes up on the wall of the museum about how the hall of fame is a mecca for baseball fans & players, really leans into the idea that these are the beatified few, which is always such a strange way to me to think about athletes & what they do, although it does at least hold some weight with ballplayers themselves, many of whom care deeply about hall of fame inclusion. i will note that there's a display right outside in the lobby which claims that the HoF inductees are not just baseball icons but role models, and pull out lou gehrig, jack robinson, and roberto clemente as particularly impressive in this regard, and while i don't dispute the legends of any of those three particular people, it does seem like an egregious claim to make when, say, bobby cox is in. but it's a great excuse for leaving barry bonds out!

there's a central wall in the plaques hall for the original five inductees from 1936, but other than that the hall of fame is not very interested in telling you about its own history, perhaps because it's not very flattering. there's a very obvious cutoff where plaques honoring players in the negro leagues appear, and it's right after ted williams' 1966 HoF induction because he famously took advantage of his induction speech to point out that it was a travesty that some of baseball's best players were not included; MLB itself only recognized the negro leagues as "major leagues" for statistical & records purposes in 2020. while marvin miller's plaque credits him with the advent of free agency, curt flood is still not in the hall of fame. & so on.

just in general the hall of fame is weirdly cagey about a bunch of current shifts in baseball, for all that it had annoying touchscreens with fan polls. it has one little case of stuff about labor stoppages in baseball (the quiz is about seeing whether you could "save the season" by agreeing equally with players & ownership on a few contested issues like a salary cap, which is a horrible framing); one of the things in it is a political cartoon about greedy players, and another is a fan-made shirt that says "i survived the baseball strike." nowhere in it is an explanation of what players were actually fighting for; it just seems strange to me that a sports museum is so profoundly uninterested in the actual labor of sports, the opinions & workplace needs of the people who make the game. also just an L, obviously. there's no timeline of equipment or rules changes (designated hitter went universal after the covid-shortened season! let's talk about it! or not?) less loaded but still interesting: the hall of fame doesn't really talk about 'moneyball' or the statistical turn more broadly, even though sports stats were invented by baseball nerds & advanced stats ("sabermetrics") are increasingly important in front offices. lots of people find them confusing or complain about them. the single acknowledgement is a little placard about the 2012 american league MVP selection, which some people argued [correctly] should have gone to the angels' mike trout, primarily on the basis of his 10+ WAR that season. but it doesn't explain what the stats are or who was arguing or if there was a broader context for the argument, because of. some reason.

also. also. i got jumpscared. because in the middle of a random display case they have a helmet that steve dahl wore to conduct the infamous disco demolition. and that's basically all it says - "steve dahl wore this for the disco demolition at the white sox's comiskey park in 1979" - and there's absolutely no other context for what happened; it just says that the white sox had to concede the game, not that there was a whole fuckin riot. as a side note to this completely decontextualized commemoration of a homophobic, racist event, glenn burke appears in the hall of fame only in the sense that the out-of-the-way bookstore sells copies of roger maraniss' YA biography of him. so fuck that. as far as the HoF knows, gay people & baseball have nothing to do with one another.

my experience walking around in the baseball hall of fame was like, "wow, this place is not laid out very well," and then like "wow, this place doesn't want to be a museum so much as it wants to have a lot of objects in it which could be explained to me by my hypothetical grandpa," and then "wow, this museum does not want me to ask any of the questions i came here to ask."

anyway we're going to go back & i'm sure there will be interesting things to look at. but it's bizarre to go to a museum which is so famous & such a destination & so important to the thing it documents & see it bend over backwards to find no narrative in its holdings, no social meaning in its collections. cowardly & kind of sad.