#what is 'faith' in this scenario exactly? Faith in what? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

karinasbaby · 7 months ago

Text

yang jungwon — GUTS.

P. fem!reader x vampire!jungwon (17+) | W. unprotected sex, not an accurate deception of vampires, blood drinking, biting, marking, making out, multiple orgasms, subspace, petnames, tying up, just filthy. filthy shit. cursing too. | WC. 5.1k (was supposed to be 3k) | A,N. this one’s for nia my beloved @intromortal i hope u find some sort of comfort in this (⺣◡⺣)♡ love u lots + hope u and all jungwon girlies enjoy !

in which.. you trying to get used to your fangs somehow leads to jungwon getting tied up.

very important ps ! this was not edited or proofread in any way i wrote this at 4 am sorry! + this was inspired by moonstruck if u couldn’t tell (stream romance untold)

this totally wasn’t the ideal situation you were hoping to find yourself with a mere year ago.

a scenario consisting you, your supernatural boyfriend, his fangs and yours.

something single, hopeless, last year you would’ve had a hard time grasping and processing. that is if she was able to believe the fact that you were alive in the first place. as last year— well it wasn’t the best year you’ve experienced, and that statement heavily sugarcoats the tragic ups and downs you tumbled through.

but thankfully, in one of those depressed, cold night where you found yourself walking through the streets of the city all alone, you also found the love of your life.

again, not in the most ideal situation. seeing your future boyfriend ripping apart a random human’s flesh in the dark alleyway wasn’t the best first impression of a potential partner you’ve seen.

but alas, that faithful day did somehow manage to develop and nurture the relationship that evolved between the two of you. deeply connecting your beating heart to his frozen one, which was the sentimental beginning of the flourishing love for you.

now those days— the ones where you spoke to jungwon shyly whereas he tried his best to avoid eye contact with you in order to not get flustered were long gone. the bond that formed for both you allowed all the embarrassing and unnerving moments to quickly disappear.

some might claim you were moving on too quickly with your relationship, others might say that you’re just in the high peak of your love and that your fall was soon. yet none of those words mattered. not when jungwon has confessed his love for you.

not when he worships you every chance he gets. devoting himself to you completely and even begging you for a chance of eternity for your love. “an eternity for you, an evermore for us.” he would whisper against your skin.

and you agreed. of course you did. you would love to spend an eternity with jungwon. a happily forever after with your dear lover who always whispers how if his heart was alive, it would beat continuously for you only.

your lover that made you forget what your other previous relationships were like, the cliche sensation of falling atop a puddle of clouds and travelling through euphoria was long forgotten. replaced with the sinking feeling of drowning. a deep deep ocean of pure ardour that made you sink further below with each and every frosty wave that washed upon you.

and though your limbs became frozen, wrapped between icy fingertips and your breathing became impossible with the cold lips pressed against yours, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

not when this was the love jungwon was providing you.

and maybe you agreeing was when things started to head south a bit too quickly. too unexpectedly.

turning into the same creature as jungwon was an unforgettable experience. a beautiful yet painfully traumatising one. though with your lover’s support and care it became a distant, memorable thought for you in the back of your head.

one that you weren’t able to focus on due to the pounding in your ears. the ache in the back of your skull. and the pulsing pain right on your canines.

two hundered and sixteen hours. it’s been exactly nine days of pure agony since you turned.

the pain was unbearable. noxious. a carnal and vile sensation that raked through every vein in your unfamiliarly cold body. still not used to the dizzying icy feel of your fingertips against warmer surfaces that once felt cool beneath your touch.

you felt unstable. hunger overpowering every rational thought in your head. the absolute need to feed on the metallic taste that your tongue craved so deeply right now was wicked. the desire digging through each inch of your being and setting off every nerve with animalistic crave.

regretting every offer from jungwon to feed from him was futile. going on your first hunt while your lover was resting just to satiate your hunger was discarded out the window and feeding on the newly brought blood bags jungwon stored in your fridge was also forgotten as he did warn you that newly turned vampires should feed from someone else instead of a blood bag.

which didn’t make sense. bullshit excuse. but you were too scared.

that was the thing that stopped you from accepting all of jungwon’s caring offers, fear. the terrifying fear of possibly hurting your lover webbed its way around your head so intricately no matter how many times jungwon tried to get rid of it, it never worked.

but you were struggling.

canines turning sharper by the minute. elongated bones poking against your lips and swollen tongue that grew sensitive from the spiky edge. the thirst in your chest became wanton. your throat turning drier and drier the more time passed. nothing was working.

closing your eyes as your grip on the couch below you turned tighter only infuriated you more. it was way past midnight. jungwon was resting in your shared bedroom. the furthest point away from the living room where you were situated, in complete fear and hunger.

despair clouded your thoughts. nine days with no feeding since you turned was ridiculous. jungwon had warned you multiple times about how dangerous your actions are. harming your body and turning you weaker than you already are. yet you wouldn’t listen. as the defiant fear flourished further, you couldn’t bring yourself to take his worries into consideration.

well up until now.

up until this current moment, when you physically felt your body and surroundings shifting entirely. a forceful push making you stand on your own two shaking feet, coaxing you to move from your spot towards the door you’ve been staring at for the past few hours.

the bedroom door, where jungwon laid peacefully resting after a long and exhausting night of hunting accompanied by fruitless attempts of convincing you to feed on him. muffled footsteps barely reached your eyes through the loud ringing of your ears.

you weren’t aware but jungwon could feel your presence. even see you with his eyes closed due to his severely heightened senses. he could see and feel the way your eyes glowed a dark, dangerous red. lips bitten and split open in tiny cuts due to the sharpening of your fangs. and most importantly, he could very obviously feel your hunger.

the sensation coming as a shocking, staggering wave to him. he felt the way each cell in your body craved and yearned for blood. the iron taste to coat your tastebuds and satisfy your reeling mind. he could practically taste your hunger on his own lips.

yet he didn’t move on the bed, deciding that if this is what it took you to finally feed on him, then he’ll stay resting. asleep even in your mind. allowing you to do whatever your vampiric mind desires and deems as useful in this current moment.

which is why when your crazed eyes caught the sight of the animal chains used by jungwon to capture creatures that wafted through the forests, he felt a wave of excitement wash down on him. especially when you gripped the chains so tightly between your fingers and dragged them along with you towards the bed.

he patiently awaited you. eyes closed to further fake his sleep, unaware that you couldn’t differentiate between reality and your thoughts to let alone remember the fact that vampires don’t usually sleep. bringing up the heavy chains to wrap around jungwon’s wrists, the click and clank of the metal loudly echoed through the room yet you could only hear the continuous ringing in your ears.

with an unnoticeable smirk, jungwon kept his wrists pressed against one another to give you more ease in tying the chains, he could tell you were completely delirious. out of your mind as you tried to somehow make the pieces of metal stay in place. “fuck..” you cursed quietly, an unclear pronunciation reaching jungwon’s ears as you struggled to speak with the sharp fangs and swollen tongue. something jungwon found really endearing.

once you finally tightened the animal chains around your vampire lover’s wrist, your glowing red eyes shifted downwards. his pale skin shimmering with a sheen layer of sweat that appeared like glitter. the bright hue illuminated by the moonlight was so breathtaking, he looked so bewitching.

yet your admiration for his beauty couldn’t last long, as the heavy, dizzying scent of divine blood reached your nose aggressively due to the close proximity. with jungwon being a mere inches away from your mouth, the sound of his beating heart and circulation echoed enticingly in your eyes.

blood, oh how sacred it was. serving as the connection point between so many living creatures. the tilting brink for life and death. and the reason why you’re still alive till this day.

jungwon had always taught you the importance of the feathery light liquid that weighed a whole life, the revered blood that served the purpose for the existence of your lover. the light of your whole life and your eternity. the ichor that has been worshipped for centuries, the same one you were about to taste on the tip of your tongue right now.

and the most precious kind too.

the scent was dizzying, intoxicating. your senses picking up all the pulse points travelling in jungwon’s body, each one pulsating the crimson liquid that made the elongated canines in your mouth ache all the more. it was as if the remaining blood in your body cascaded away from your brain. making you lose all logical thinking as you lowered your head towards jungwon’s inviting, delicate neck that appeared more delicious oddly.

your shallow breaths grew even more irregular. if you had a heartbeat you knew it would’ve been raging by now, pounding nervously against your ribs. you opened your mouth, puffed lips separating and allowing your fangs to glisten against the moonlight. you were so close. so so close to getting exactly what you wanted.

and when your teeth grazed the surface of jungwon’s skin, the decrease of distance making your head spin as you could inhale his scent better now. and god was it so alluring. such a electrifying scent that enlivened all parts of your body and brain. setting off a different fire that blazed up your being entirely, driven completely by hunger. crave. voracity.

before you could flow further in the cloud of euphoria caused by the mere scent of the vampire’s blood beneath you, your instincts took control, sinking your teeth into his vein and allowing the absolute ecstasy of his flavour to wash down on your body.

and god did it reawaken you entirely.

the regret of the previous rejected offers that weighed like rocks on your shoulders disappeared the more blood rushed into your mouth. at jungwon’s unnoticeable hiss, you were reminded of the fact that you need to inject your venom inside of him.

he thrashed beneath you once your ecstasy forged its way into his bloodstream. instantly sending his mind into a state of complete delirium that made his eyes roll to the back of his skull in pleasure. he was on the seventh heaven.

jungwon tasted so unbelievably delicious. an overwhelming sweetness that sent your senses into a frenzy. the hunger that bloomed and grew in your stomach and chest bursted all over your body. nourishing your veins in a different kind of euphoria, a new taste ascending down your throat that closed and gulped the precious essence in fear of wasting a singular droplet of it.

your weakened knuckles tightened around his broad shoulders, nails gradually digging deeper into his skin the more you rode off the high from the bliss provided by jungwon’s blood. you could detect every unique factor about his taste, the first rush of sweetness followed by the warmness that swam in your mouth and the metallic, iron slaty like aftertaste that you slowly grew addicted to.

you pressed your body as close as possible to his, chest on chest as his heavy breaths and groans fell right onto your ears. the air shifted the longer his essence spilled onto your mouth. and you continued to suck, licking up the fervid blood that was as addictive as an aphrodisiac. the high and elation you felt from it only encouraging you to suck more. to swallow more. to feed your desire more and more.

jungwon’s breaths got heavier beneath you, uneven and shaky exhales that brushed against your cold skin. he could feel his body blazing up the further your sickeningly sweet venom spread. he felt so satisfied though he wasn’t the one that was feeding. finding a different kind of joy rushing through his body at the sight of you finally smearing the ruby liquid along your lips.

“finally?” he croaked out, voice quiet as his muscles twitched under your bite, a muffled noise of pleasure reached his ears as a response which made him chuckle. “you gave in.” he continued, shoulders sagging under your touch while the metal clanked around his wrists. he closed his hands to enjoy the close vicinity he had you in, the precious moment that solidified your relationship further.

the connection between two vampires, the exchange of delicious blood for precious venom.

it was a ritual, a connection and a form of bond jungwon had always searched for. unlike most vampires that didn’t pay any mind to getting marked by their lover after marking them, this act however held a heavy weight over jungwon’s unbeating heart.

could it be the influence of his loving parents that marked each other and valued their marking night as more memorable and precious than their own wedding? might be. either way, this bond. this gift that he had been blessed with, was something he had be waiting for patiently as the centuries passed by.

though he had turned some humans into one of his own kind, he had never gotten marked. preserving his neck as something only his lover, partner for life and eternity will have the right of approaching.

“tastes nice?” chuckling as you only continued to satiate your hunger. his smile deepened when you just hummed against his blood, dimple appearing as he allowed you to drink from him as much as you desired.

in the blink of an eye the metal chains fell across the floor besides the bed, “you never needed these, precious.” he spoke gently. lowering his hands to cradle the back of your neck and wrap around your waist, he tilted his head to the side to give you more access to the expanse of his neck, encouraging you to drink more.

humming in delight when you released more venom further into his bloodstream, yours felt so warm and heavy. intoxicating as the pleasure from it raked through his body, he felt so good. so ecstatic. drunk on the sensation of your venom rushing through his body just as much as you were drunk on the flavour of him coating your insides.

the mixing fuse of his venom with your blood was euphoric. yet nothing could compare to the feeling of his blood unifying with your venom. an indescribable febrile sensation that set all his nerves aflame. burning with a fire that only blazed bigger and larger. the need and crave for you increasing by the second.

the longer your poison stirred with his blood, the more he yearned for you. a feverish want and an ardent need, functioning purely on impulse when his hands lowered to press you lower on his lap. the pleasure awakening another arousal that spread throughout your bodies. you could feel his length rock hard, pulsing with need as it was confined in his pants. “you’re in my blood.” jungwon whispered dazedly.

“finally.” his muscles clenched and tightened under your bite the more he spoke, the action pushing out further blood that spilled down your throat, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as all your senses reawakened, rekindling every nerve with your brain that made you become more aware with everything.

every sensation suddenly seemed intense. each movement in your body felt electrifying. like a new consciousness that just stirred awake after your first feeding, everything felt surreal. with every gulp of blood, another shock passed through your limbs. the revival of your senses become overwhelming, resulting in your hands to lower, to grasp onto jungwon’s muscular arms to ground yourself.

“that’s enough, doll.” he cradled your face in his large hand, his touch though icy cold, felt warm against your skin. he gently pulled you away from the open bite, your fangs slipping out as blood trickled down your lips and his neck. he quickly guided your lips back to lick the wound, finally sealing your marks on him. “did so well for me, my love.”

“feel satisfied enough now?” his catlike eyes stared at you in wonder, his own lips having a light pink hue to them due to biting them from the overwhelming pleasure. his stare at you darkened when you shook your head in denial, feeling far from satisfied. anything but satisfied with his rock hard length pressing against your core.

“what do you need then, princess?” he asked, dipping his nose to run the tip of it along your cheeks softly before burying his head against your neck, pressing a tender kiss on your pulse points. “you.” whispering breathlessly for him, his hands tightened their hold around you. lustful gaze challenging your own lidded one, “you sure you can handle me right now, pretty?” he teased.

you whined in need in his embrace, feeling the way his cock throbbed in need for you. each cell in his body craving you, the urge to hold you as close as possible to him wasn’t as fulfilling as it used to feel, he felt the infernal need to bury himself inside of you. mould and shape your souls into one so that he can breathe freely.

you nodded your head to his words, the arousal that awakened in you stirred hotly in your stomach, reaching further down into your abdomen and blazing your whole body on fire. you felt so warm. so fitting into his frame, so alluring to him. that he had no other choice than to claim you as his.

“get on the bed, princess.” he whispered into your ear, in the blink of an eye he moved your bodies around on the mattress. his speed and strength evident in every movement as he pinned you under him between the silk sheets, he stared at you. from his position and perspective you looked so ravishing. so delicious he wanted to devour you whole. let you become a piece of him and him a piece of you.

“you smell delightful, my love.” whispering against your skin as he pushed his nose against your jugular veins, his strong hands brushing against every inch of your body on their way to your core, their pace turning slower the breathier your gasps and moans of his name became, just to rile you up further.

“please, baby.” you begged, voice barely above a whisper as your eyes closed in intense pleasure, each touch of his fingertips leaving a trail of fire behind them as they brushed along your body, “i know, angel.” he kissed your exposed collarbone to soothe you, “i know.” and without a warning he teared off your clothes from your frame.

relishing in the surprised gasp that left your mouth as his eyes raked your body, the one that no matter how many times he kissed and worshipped, he’ll always crave and fantasise about. you were so enchanting to jungwon. if he could spend your eternity with him marking every inch of your skin, he would. the mere thought of dedicating himself to your body only seemed like a dream to him.

and each time he got you under him, he tried to do just that. to devote himself to your body entirely before pleasing you two to the edge of your limits, pushing you so far not even the peeking sunlight through the dark blinds could even make him consider the possibility of quitting for the day.

“smell so good baby.. taste so sweet.” he ran the tip of his tongue along your skin, praises falling like waterfalls from his lips when they were not pressed against you, you could only whimper and writhe under him as he pleased your body. as this was no longer a matter between you and jungwon, it was your body and jungwon.

he knew and had memorised you like the back of his hand. knowing exactly what parts of your body were the most sensitive, what kind of kiss will make your eyes roll to the back of your head, how to angle his hips to hit your sweet sweet spot and make you unravel beneath him in seconds, and this doesn’t even cover even a quarter of it.

though he was a vampire, your body was heaven to him. and he was the most devoted and committed angel.

“won.. i need you. right now, please.” you shakily moaned when his fangs grazed your hip bone, right over the fresh hickey he placed on your skin, his eyes raked over your body and over the new marks. his artwork that glowed underneath him, before they reached your pleasured face. and god did you look stunning.

how could he deny you of pleasure any longer when you stared at him with glossy eyes? the rapid raising and falling of your chest as you tried your best to regulate your breathing, and the scent of metallic blood that made his head spin. that’s when he noticed the tiny crimson droplets decorating your lower lip from your harsh bites.

and fuck did that just push him past his own limit.

“i got you, doll.” he pushed his pants and boxers down before discarding them in the room, sliding his shirt off and throwing it besides the bed as he finally lowered himself onto you. his skin burned against yours. the contact almost electrifying, building up the hilt of his ecstasy gradually, he then connected your lips, allowing your soft moans to stay muffled between his lips. brushing his tongue against yours as he fell deeper and deeper into the spell of pure intoxication of your love.

he guided his length to your core, leaking tip brushing along your soaked folds which made you whimper into his mouth before he pushed himself in. thrusting his hips to fill you up completely and relishing in your pleasured moan. he so good inside of you. so big and perfect, stretching you out so nicely the burn of it alone made you see stars across your vision.

he kept his arms around your head, caging you under his body while your nails dug into his muscles. resorting to sucking on your bottom lip only and reveling in the sugary sweet taste of blood that coated his tongue. the taste only making his hardened length twitch inside of your leaking walls. the more he tasted you the more he craved you in every way.

“feel so good wrapped around me baby.. your pussy is milking me so well.” he praised as he spoke between kisses, his thrusts slow yet so powerful. filling you up to the brim, pressing against your cervix in a way that made your toes curl before pulling back. you were on cloud nine.

you felt the air around you shift the moment you felt the familiar tightening of the coil in your abdomen, your climax approaching as your senses suddenly heightened more. jungwon took notice of your incessant tightening, the way your hands brushed through his soft hair and pulled gently while you whimpered and mewled his name out so desperately. both of you were floating to a different dimension, wrapped up in complete and utter euphoria that the only thing your clouded senses and awareness were able to pick up were the approach of your releases.

jungwon felt an animalistic urge clawing its way through his chest, a primal need to fuck and stuff you full of him when his own abdomen tightened. picking up the pace as his muscular hands wrapped around your thighs while his hips began to piston against yours, he breathing was laboured, panting as his eyes rolled to the back of his head the further you sucked him in.

your fingers began to grip against the sheets. searching for anything to ground yourself with as your body arched against his own, your chest pressing against his. the air feeling electric and steamy as both of your bodies buzzed in overstimulation over complete euphoria.

“i’m so close, baby.” you choked out, throwing your head back against the satin pillowcase and exposing the skin of your neck to jungwon’s eyes. he felt feral.

like a carnal impulse controlling his body as its puppet. jungwon instantly sank his teeth down your veins. relishing in the sob that escaped your throat while crystal tears ran down your cheeks. the pleasure so overwhelming and uncontrollable your body shook in overstimulation as your orgasm washed over you. leaving you to twitch under jungwon’s possessive hold.

“just like that pretty.. cream all over my cock.” he spoke with his words slurred, almost choking on your blood as he sucked more and more. pure ecstasy rushing throughout his body as it burned with passion. he felt like the pleasure was almost too much to keep up with. he whispered sweet nothings to your skin while your ears rang in hot white pleasure that descended down your body in brutal waves.

the combination of his bite and cock so deep inside of you sent you into a frenzy. your body felt scorched. completely ablaze as jungwon fucked you through your pleasured climax, blurring the lines between your release and overstimulation.

your head continued to spin as jungwon’s venom spread throughout your body. his venom so intoxicating and potent. you felt exhilarated in deep pleasure and passion that only your lover provided you.

as he kept fucking you into subspace, you slowly lost touch with reality. the only thing processing in your dizzied mind was the raging sense of ecstasy. unable to pick up jungwon’s reassuring words as he pulled away and sealed his marks on your neck. his cock pressed snug against your cervix while he kissed the two deep bites that portrayed his claim on you.

“feeling good, princess?” his voice sounded muffled for you. barely able to reach your puddle of a brain. yet you could only nod as your eyes remained closed, pretty lips parted allowing soft pants of air out while heavy tears hung from your lashes. he kissed both of your cheeks lovingly, leaving behind a slight smear of your blood on your skin before he began to slowly roll in his hips against yours. chasing his own release by using your body.

jungwon threw his head back as your cunt sucked him in greedily. closing his eyes to revel in the pure, breathtaking pleasure that ran along his veins along with the feeling of your blood rushing through his body. he felt so ridiculously great. living through a high that only your body and blood could supply him. and he was so fucking addicted.

he lowered his head to commit the mistake of looking at your connection point, the sight of his pulsing red cock disappearing into your dripping cunt made his shallow breath hitch. the white ring of your arousal circling his cock made him tighten his hold on your thighs. sharp nails burying themselves onto your skin to leave behind small crescent shapes, serving as reminders of jungwon’s devotion to you.

the louder the filthy wet noises became in the room, the closer jungwon felt his release. the nasty sounds combined with your mixed moans of pleasure driving him absolutely crazy. everything felt so lewd. so erotic. and so stimulating to him. only you were able to make his head spin and pound in delirium as sweat rolled down his burning body.

he continued to thrust so deeply inside of you. keeping his leaking tip pressed against your cervix for longer periods as he felt his body tightening up aggressively. his orgasm a mere seconds away from washing down on him while he wrapped your legs around him and lifted your arms above you.

he pressed his forehead against yours as he thrusted in an animalistic pace. his heavy breathing combining with your own making you breath each other’s air as he chased his release. all the noises, the sensations, everything became so much more intense while he practically molded your cunt into his shape.

fresh tears rolled down your cheeks as jungwon unknowingly fucked you through orgasm after orgasm. coaxing a new one out with every few thrusts as your legs weakly trembled around his waist. your eyes rolling to the back of your head when jungwon began to mindlessly lick against your skin.

“i’m cumming, doll— shit. gonna fill you up, yeah? you gonna like that?” he moaned against your jaw as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. the mere thought of breeding you triggering his release that made his body freeze, still buried so deep inside of you while he filled you up completely. the feeling of his warm cum inside of you pulled out another orgasm from you as you convulsed under him. clawing at his body desperately when you felt yourself a few seconds away from passing out.

“fuck.. princess…” he gasped, opening his eyes and lifting his head to take in the sight of your fucked our body, quickly pulling out, “baby..?” he whispered softly, his hands leaving your wrists to gently cradle your face, a feeling of relief washing down on him when you leaned into his touch even in this state.

“you feeling alright, doll?” he smiled when you slightly nodded, deciding it’s best to clean you up and get you tucked in his embrace as soon as possible. “i’ll get you a cloth and clean you up, then we can go to sleep yeah?” he spoke, his eyes lighting up in adoration when you hummed softly before detaching his sore body from your own and disappearing into the bathroom.

and a few more minutes, whines from you and chuckles from jungwon later, you were safe in his embrace to rest for as long as you wanted while jungwon laid besides you, a hefty amount of blood bags and other vampire-friendly snacks situated on his bedside table for his own feeding as he knew the moment you wake up, you’ll be tremendously hungry, and he was excited to offer his neck to your aching fangs.

and maybe it was his jealousy, but he really didn’t want you to touch any blood bags.

his blood should suffice for now.

a,note. hope u enjoyed ♡ !!

1K notes · View notes

kannouo · 4 months ago

Text

I'm so lucky, lucky!

fandom: obey me pairing: demon brothers x gn!reader warnings: none prompt by @ember-is-clueless: Can I request the brothers with an extremely lucky MC? The MC might not go to gamble a lot but when they do they win every time, it also strays off to other aspects like if they guess which answer is right on a test, they get it correct. Thank you <3 A/N: ty for the request <333 I hope this is okay. this idea was pretty fun to think about actually as there are a lot of scenarios that could happen surrounding this. i also went super far with just how lucky the mc is lol, just letting you know i basically went the superpower route.

LUCIFER

• Lucifer notices how lucky you are very early on during your stay at the Devildom.

• You were somehow always in exactly the right place at the right time to avoid his and his brothers' wrath. When demons at RAD would make any attempt to harm you, you would just happen to run into him or even Diavolo himself before they could do anything. In fact, even when you went against his orders and went out late alone, you would always come back unscathed.

• Lucifer doesn't believe in luck, and therefore isn't comfortable relying on chance alone to keep you out of danger. It might save him a headache or two, but overall, he won't loosen up his overprotective tendencies. What if the one time he puts his faith in your luck to protect you, something goes wrong?

• He realises later on that your luck comes into play with him too. Whenever you're caught alongside the anti-Lucifer squad — if he ever even manages to catch you in the first place — he always just happens to be in a merciful mood that day, so the punishments you all receive are comparatively light.

• He is trying to work on this. He can't have anyone thinking he's gone soft.

• Is admittedly impressed by your ability to pass any test by guessing the answers, but cannot support you getting by on just that. He will still enforce studying time for you and insists you actually make an effort with your schoolwork, even if you don't think it's necessary.

• Lucifer is not amused when his brothers start trying to drag you everywhere with them to use your luck to their advantage, and encourages you not to let them do so. Even if you don't mind it, nothing good comes from them getting their way all of the time.

You were really in trouble this time. Caught trying to give a cup of coffee laced with one of Satan's newest concoctions to Lucifer, it seemed lady luck was absent today. You knelt before him with your head lowered as he glared down at you, but just as he opened his mouth to begin his lecture... CRASH! You jumped at the loud sound of glass shattering in the hallway, followed by a yelp that sounded suspiciously like Mammon. You turned to Lucifer, who had directed his attention to the door, where the sound came from. "MAAAMMOOOOON?" As Lucifer stormed over to the door and out into the hallway, you lived to thank your lucky charms another day.

MAMMON

• Mammon noticed you were lucky pretty quickly, but it took him a while to realise just how lucky.

• He'd make jokes about how lucky you seemed to get all the time for going out at just the right time to always conveniently avoid Lucifer's wrath, but he only took it seriously when he challenged you to a game of poker and lost all of his savings, as well as the jacket and belt he was wearing at the time. He was stunned.

• Mammon might have a reputation for losing all of his money on gambling, but that doesn't mean he's bad at it. He just suffers from the same habit a lot of gambling addicts do — he can't stop. He wins and wins until he loses. So, now knowing you're even luckier than he is...

• How do you feel about being a walking lucky charm?

• He'll take you with him to casinos as "arm candy" and have you blow on his dice before he makes a move, or even just play the round in his place and split the winnings. You don't even have to know the game, just go with your gut and you'll end up winning by complete chance.

• Another thing he likes to do is walk up to random demons and make a bet such as, "do you think this human here can flip a coin that'll land on heads 10 times in a row?" It being a statistical unlikelihood, the demon will usually allow Mammon to take one of their pennies (so they know it's not a fake) and bet against it. They never bet that much grimm on it, but the shocked look on the demons' faces every time as you just keep landing on heads is completely worth it.

• Lucifer isn't happy about any of this.

• Don't worry though. Outside of making bets surrounding you and dragging you to casinos with him, he's practically your personal servant. He has to butter you up so you don't refuse next time, you know? So, he waits on hand and foot for you all day. Practically worships you.

"MC! MC, babe!" You peeked over the couch as you heard Mammon shouting your name from the hall. Just as he passed by the living room, he caught sight of you and broke into a grin, hurrying over and leaning over the back of the sofa. "There ya are! C'mere, take a look..." You shuffled closer so you could get a view of what he was holding. "...Lottery tickets?" You questioned, glancing up at him. "Yeah! I just bought 'em— will you scratch 'em out for me, baby? Please?" He begged. "I'll do anythin' ya want!"

LEVIATHAN

• Levi takes a while to find out about this ability because of how much time he spends in his room. There are very little opportunities for your luck to come into play there... except for in video games.

• The first time you demolished him in a game you told him you had never played before by pure chance, he demanded rematch after rematch until he solemnly concluded that it wasn't going anywhere. You were pretty sure he hated you for it, judging by his refusal to talk to you or message you afterwards, until he invited you back to his room again, this time to play a co-op game together.

• Predictably, he's jealous of your luck. How come you don't even have to try, and all these good things just seem to come to you naturally? It's not fair.

• He mostly gets over any petty resentment he holds after you two start to get closer, and actually really enjoys games where he can team up with you. He's pretty bad at explaining controls, but it doesn't even matter because you always end up with the luckiest possible circumstances. You contribute even when you aren't trying to.

• Thinks it's hilarious a lot of the time, too. If he's in a voice chat lobby he'll start mocking the other players for losing so badly against a total noob. He's surprisingly toxic.

• One time, Levi had to leave his room because Diavolo had arranged a student council meeting on the day where a special, limited-edition figurine of one of his favourite shows was dropping. He damn near had to be dragged away from his computer by Lucifer, and was sulking the whole meeting. Why today of all days...?

• But you just so happened to pull out your DDD and open Akuzon at the exact moment the figurine dropped. Blissfully unaware, you ordered it, thinking nothing more of it other than "Levi will probably like this".

• He was devastated when the figurine was already sold out by the time he got home, but when it showed up at the door anyway, he couldn't decide between being ecstatic and confused. Was this some kind of miracle?!

• When you explained that you had ordered it for him, he literally drops to his knees and starts thanking and praising you.

• Joins Mammon as your second personal servant.

"LOLOLOL, I thought you losers said you were good at this game!" Levi taunted into his headset, provoking the other players in the lobby to talk back, hurling all kinds of insults his and your way in response. "How much of a normie do you have to be to lose that bad against a total noob?" "Levi," you hit his shoulder. "Stop it." Levi looked at you then paused, a sly smile forming on his face as he listened to the other players yell. "They're saying I carried." You furrowed your brow. "Like hell you did! Oh, it's on."

SATAN

• Also doesn't really believe in luck, but his opinion can be changed if you allow him to experiment with it a little.

• Here's a pop quiz about various subjects in the Devildom you should, by all sound logic, know nothing about. Let's see how you perform when all you can do is guess. Huh... they're all correct. Alright then — could you crack this egg for him? Just a regular egg, and he'll see... its a triple yolk. Well... for the final test, here's a random lottery ticket. You couldn't possibly—... did you just hit a jackpot? Seriously?

• After a while of "observing" your unnatural abilities, he is eventually forced to conclude that lady luck really does exist, and she plays favourites.

• Your luck definitely comes in handy, and he will use it to his advantage, mainly to gain the upper-hand in pranking Lucifer. As long as you're around or are the one performing it, it's far more likely for their pranks to succeed. And if they get caught, the punishments are always far less severe, so they can get back to finding new ways to inconvenience Lucifer as fast as possible.

• He also likes bringing you with him to bookstores, because whenever you wander around or randomly pick out a book, it always happens to be some kind of rare edition or cursed book that is... for some reason in a public bookstore. And it's not like the curse will hurt you either. No, you're just too lucky for that.

• Sort of develops a more laid-back attitude to what you do overtime, unlike Lucifer. Satan has full faith in your luck, and doesn't tend to worry much about your safety. That isn't to say he doesn't care, more like he believes fate itself will always keep you safe.

• Also, whenever he takes you to cat cafes or areas popular with stray cats, they always surround you and jump up onto your lap. Even the feistiest of cats are calm enough to be pet by you. He loves this, and tries to take you with him every time he goes out somewhere like that.

"Pspspspsps..." "Oh, that's Paprika. She doesn't have an owner and is scared of people, so she won't—" Satan's sentence was cut short by the usually shy and aggressive kitty jumping up into your lap. She 'mrrp'ed as you pet and cooed at her, and it took you a moment to notice the utter silence from the man next to you. "Satan? What's wrong?" He blinked and gazed lovingly at you, completely starry-eyed. "...I love you."

ASMODEUS

• He knew you were lucky right off the bat. I mean, you had to be with looks like yours. You basically won the genetic lottery!

• Obviously, your abilities go far beyond just good looks. But he honestly doesn't care as much as his brothers do about all of that. He's much more focused on how you are absolutely slaying every single outfit you try on! No matter how hideous a combination is, you always make it look good... How?!

• I would say he's jealous, but that would be a lie. He's still hotter, obviously... but you're close second! Well, no, you're not that close behind, but still!

• If there's anything he is jealous of, it's your lack of bedhead. He's drawing a line, it's completely unfair for you to wake up looking perfect every morning.

• If Asmo were to ever use your luck to his advantage, it would be to score his most desired modelling shoots. Just having you near him makes scouts more likely to approach him, and having you in a picture makes it go instantly viral. You're his lucky charm for stuff like that.

• Doesn't approve of his brothers stealing you away for all kinds of shenanigans though. Mostly because it's taking your attention away from where it should be, on him. He may not take advantage of your luck as frequently as the others, but if that's what it takes to have you all to himself, he might start to!

• Designs a cute little four-leaf clover accessory for you to wear, like a bracelet or a hairclip.

"MC, honey!~" Asmo came running into your room, a big smile on his face. Before you could even speak, he latched his arms around you in a bone-crushing hug, kissing all over your face. "Thank you so much for getting me that photoshoot~ it was amazing!" Confused, you wriggled around for a bit of freedom, and he loosened his grip on you. "I didn't get you anything?" "Of course you did, sweetheart! It's all thanks to you I was lucky enough to come across an opportunity like that~ so, how about a special reward for my favourite lucky charm, hm?~"

BEELZEBUB

• Beel is unlikely to notice unless your luck is pointed out to him. Not because he's stupid or doesn't pay attention to you, but because he just doesn't think in that way. He'll notice when things seem to conveniently always go your way, but he doesn't piece all of those events together and come to the conclusion that you have absurd luck on his own.

• It's only when one of his brothers comment on it that the puzzle pieces all connect and he's like "ooooh." His only real reaction beyond that is a shrug. He frankly doesn't care that much.

• He notices that whenever he takes you out to eat, he always ends up with extra food on his plate that he didn't ask for. He notices that there always happen to be extra replacements for any ingredients he eats when he's on dinner duty, as long as you're in the house. He notices how some vendors are more willing to give him samples on-the-house when you're by his side. It's just not the main reason why he wants you around all the time.

• He loves you because of how unique you are and because of how much you've helped his family. Your luck is convenient, yes, but he doesn't go out of his way to use it for himself. The last thing he wants is for you to think he's using you.

• ...He might ask you to help him sneak food into places though.

• Beel is also unlikely to put much faith in your luck to keep you safe. He knows you've managed to evade danger in the past, but he'd much rather protect you himself so he can be sure.

• Even though he doesn't use your luck to his advantage, he'll ask a lot of questions about what you've been able to do with it in the past. He might ask you to try out a few things solely for experimental purposes, but it's usually just to see how far-reaching your luck actually is. Treats it like a superpower, which it kind of is.

• Such as: what if someone tells you to cook a meal you've never heard of without a recipe? If you just try random stuff, will you end up with a good meal anyway? You tried that one out — the answer was, somehow, yes.

You felt a rough tap on your shoulder. Turning, you were met with Beel, looking very guilty and with a bag full of snacks. "Can you hide these in your coat?" He asked. "Beel, we're at a movie theatre..." You spoke with a hushed voice, looking around warily. "We can just buy popcorn." "I know, but... just popcorn isn't enough." He looked at you with such sad eyes that you couldn't help but give in. You took the bag from him, tucking it under your arm, and he lit up. "Thank you, MC."

BELPHEGOR

• Sure, he noticed, but was pretty sure he wouldn't care about it at all. He sleeps through most days anyway, so...

• He was totally wrong, though. He remembers waking up next to you one morning, cuddled snugly into your chest and arms lazily draped over you from the night before. Groaning, he turned and looked over at his bedside clock... 12:00, it read. He blinked. Had he slept through the beginning of RAD? Without Lucifer or Beel coming to wake him? Seemed unlikely...

• It was only when he checked his DDD that he saw a few messages in the House of Lamentation group chat of Lucifer informing everyone that there had been some sort of mishap with a potion, so RAD's halls were closed off for the day, and perhaps tomorrow. How lucky, he thought. He gets to spend all day in bed with... MC.

• Anyway, he tries to sleep in your bed literally every night from then on, because whenever he does there always seems to be some kind of event that causes RAD to be cancelled or delayed.

• Lucifer bans him from doing this after realising it. He can't just have the entire school year amount to nothing because classes kept getting cancelled, after all. Belphie was not happy about this at all.

• Even when staying overnight with MC is banned, he'll still find ways to use their luck to his convenience. When he naps on them or near them, he's far less likely to be disturbed from his sleep. There's also the bonus of MC helping him and Satan get away with their pranks on Lucifer more often.

• That's what he gets for revoking Belphie's sleepover privileges.

• Your luck sometimes backfires on him, though. Whenever he tries to pull a prank on you, it always goes horribly wrong. To be fair, he probably should have predicted that outcome.

"Belphie... wake up..." You spoke softly into Belphie's ear and he twitched in his sleep. All it took was a few more gentle shakes and he finally stirred, looking at you with sleepy eyes. "Come on, it's time to get up." "What?" He huffed and rested his head back down on top of you. "RAD's cancelled... I don't need to get up..." "It—" You paused and blinked down at the avatar of Sloth. True, it was cancelled for the day, but that announcement was only made about thirty minutes ago. Belphie had been sound asleep. "—How did you know it was cancelled?" The only response you got was a smirk and a knowing look before he went right back to sleep.

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date

571 notes · View notes

planckstorytime · 1 month ago

Text

Dragon Age: The Veilguard: Strangled by Gentle Hands

*The following contains spoilers*

“You would risk everything you have in the hope that the future is better? What if it isn’t? What if you wake up to find the future you shaped is worse than what was?”

– Solas, Dragon Age: Inquisition (2014)

I. Whatever It Takes

My premium tickets for a local film festival crumpled and dissolved in my pants pocket, unredeemed as they swirled in the washing machine. Throughout that October weekend in 2015, I neglected my celebratory privileges, my social visits to friends, and even my brutal honors literary theory class. All because a golden opportunity stretched before me: a job opening for a writing position at the once-legendary BioWare, with an impending deadline.

The application process wasn’t like anything I’d seen before. Rather than copy+paste a cover letter and quickly swap out a couple of nouns here and there, this opening required me to demonstrate my proficiency in both words and characters – namely, BioWare’s characters. Fanfiction wasn’t normally in my wheelhouse – at the time, I had taken mainly to spinning love sonnets (with a miserable success rate). But I wouldn’t balk at this chance to work on one of my dream franchises – especially since the job prospects for fresh English BAs weren’t exactly promising. So, I got to work crafting a branching narrative based on the company’s most recent title: Dragon Age: Inquisition. Barely two months prior, I saw the conclusion of that cast’s story when the Inquisitor stabbed a knife into a map and swore to hunt her former ally, Solas, to the ends of the earth. Now it was my turn to puppeteer them, to replicate the distinct voice of each party member and account for how they’d react to the scenario I crafted. And if it went well, then maybe I’d be at the tip of the spear on that hunt for Solas. Finishing the writing sprint left me exhausted, but also proud of my work.

The folks at BioWare obviously felt differently, because I received a rejection letter less than a week later. Maybe they found my story trite and my characterization inaccurate, or maybe they just didn’t want to hire a student with no professional experience to his name. Regardless, I was devastated. It wouldn’t be until years later that I learned that, had my application been accepted, I likely would’ve been drafted into working on the studio’s ill-fated looter shooter, Anthem (2019), noteworthy for its crunch and mismanagement. My serendipitous rejection revealed that sometimes the future you strive to build was never meant to match your dreams. What seemed like an opportunity to strike oil actually turned out to be a catastrophic spill.

Still, my passion for the Dragon Age series (as well as Mass Effect) persisted in the face of BioWare’s apparent decline. I maintain that Inquisition is actually one of the studio’s best games, and my favorite in the series, to the point where I even dressed up as Cole for a convention one time. The game came to me at a very sensitive time in my life, and its themes of faith vs falsehood, the co-opting of movements in history, and the instability of power all spoke to me. But I will elaborate more on that at a later date. My point is, I held on to that hope that, in spite of everything, BioWare could eventually deliver a satisfactory resolution to the cliffhanger from their last title. Or perhaps it was less hope and more of a sunk cost fallacy, as an entire decade passed with nary a peep from Dragon Age.

As years wore on, news gradually surfaced about the troubled development of the fourth game. Beginning under the codename “Joplin” in 2015 with much of the same creative staff as its predecessors, this promising version of the game would be scrapped two years later for not being in line with Electronic Arts’s business model (i.e. not being a live-service scam). Thus, it was restarted as “Morrison”. The project cantered along in this borderline unrecognizable state for a few years until they decided to reorient it back into a single-player RPG, piling even more years of development time onto its shaky Jenga tower of production. Indeed, critical pieces were constantly being pulled out from the foundations during this ten year development cycle. Series regulars like producer Mark Darrah and director Mike Laidlaw made their departures, and the project would go on to have several more directors and producers come and go: Matthew Goldman, Christian Dailey, and Mac Walters, to name a few key figures. They eventually landed on John Epler as creative director, Corinne Busche as game director, and Benoit Houle as director of product development. Then came the massive layoffs of dozens of employees, including series-long writer Mary Kirby, whose work still made it into the final version of DA4. Finally, the game received a rebranding just four months before release, going from Dreadwolf (which it had been known as since 2022) to The Veilguard (2024) – a strange title with an even stranger article.

Needless to say, these production snags did not inspire confidence, especially considering BioWare’s been low on goodwill between a string of flops like Anthem and Mass Effect: Andromeda (2017) and, before that, controversial releases like Dragon Age II (2011) and Mass Effect 3 (2012). The tumult impacted The Veilguard’s shape, which scarcely resembles an RPG anymore, let alone a Dragon Age game. The party size is reduced from four to three, companions can no longer be directly controlled, the game has shifted to a focus on action over tactics a la God of War (2018), the number of available abilities has shrunk, and there’s been a noticeable aesthetic shift towards a more cartoonish style. While I was open to the idea of changing up the combat (the series was never incredible on that front), I can’t get over the sensation that these weren’t changes conceived out of genuine inspiration, but rather vestigial traces from the live-service multiplayer iteration. The digital fossil record implies a lot. Aspects like the tier-based gear system, the instanced and segmented missions, the vapid party approval system, the deficit of World State import options, and the fact that rarely does more than the single mandatory companion have anything unique to say on a quest – it all points to an initial design with a very different structure from your typical single-player RPG. The Veilguard resembles a Sonic Drive-In with a mysterious interior dining area – you can tell it was originally conceived as something else.1

That said, the product itself is functional. It contains fewer bugs than any previous game in the franchise, and maybe BioWare’s entire catalog for that matter. I wouldn’t say the combat soars, but it does glide. There’s a momentum and responsiveness to the battle system that makes it satisfying to pull off combos and takedowns against enemies, especially if you’re juggling multiple foes at once. Monotony sets in after about thirty or forty hours, largely due to the fact that you’re restricted to a single class’s moveset on account of the uncontrollable companions. Still, this design choice can encourage replay value, as it does in Mass Effect, and free respec options and generous skill point allocations offset the tedium somewhat.

While the character and creature designs elicit controversy – both for the exaggerated art direction and, in the case of demons and darkspawn, total redesign – the environmental art is nothing short of breathtaking. I worried that this title would look dated because of how long it had been in development and the age of the technology it was built upon. Those fears were swiftly banished when I saw the cityscapes of Minrathous, the cyclopean architecture of the Nevarran Grand Necropolis, or the overgrown ruins of Arlathan. But like everything in The Veilguard, it’s a double-edged sword. The neon-illuminated streets of Docktown, the floating citadel of the Archon’s Palace, and the whirring mechanisms of the elven ruins evoke a more fantastically futuristic setting that feels at odds with all three previous titles (even though all three exhibited a stylistic shift to some extent). It aggravates the feeling of discordance between this rendition of Thedas and the one returning players know.

All of these elements make The Veilguard a fine fantasy action-adventure game – even a good one, I’d say. But as both the culmination of fifteen years of storytelling and as a narrative-based roleplaying game – the two most important facets of its identity – it consistently falls short. Dragon Age began as a series with outdated visuals and often obtuse gameplay, but was borne aloft by its worldbuilding, characterization, and dialogue. Now, that paradigm is completely inverted. The more you compare it to the older entries, the more alien it appears. After all these years of anticipation, how did it end up this way? Was this the only path forward?

Throughout The Veilguard’s final act, characters utter the phrase “Whatever it takes,” multiple times. Some might say too many. I feel like this mantra applied to the development cycle. As more struggles mounted, the team made compromise after compromise to allow the game to exist at all, to give the overarching story some conclusion in the face of pressure from corporate shareholders, AAA market expectations, and impatient fans. Whatever it takes to get this product out the door and into people’s homes.

This resulted in a game that was frankensteined together, assembled out of spare parts and broken dreams. It doesn’t live up to either the comedic heights or dramatic gravity of Inquisition’s “Trespasser” DLC from 2015, despite boasting the same lead writer in Trick Weekes. Amid the disappointment, we’re left with an unfortunate ultimatum: It’s either this or nothing.

I don’t mean that as a way to shield The Veilguard from criticism, or to dismiss legitimate complaints as ungrateful gripes. Rather, I’m weighing the value of a disappointing reality vs an idealized fantasy. The “nothing”, in this sense, was the dream I had for the past decade of what a perfect Dragon Age 4 looked like. With the game finally released, every longtime fan has lost their individualized, imaginary perfection in the face of an authentic, imperfect text. Was the destruction of those fantasies a worthy trade? It doesn’t help that the official artbook showcases a separate reality that could’ve been, with a significant portion dedicated to the original concepts for Joplin that are, personally, a lot closer to my ideal vision. I think it would’ve done wonders to ground the game as more Dragon Age-y had they stuck with bringing back legacy characters, such as Cole, Calpernia, Imshael, and the qunari-formerly-known as Sten.

I don’t necessarily hate The Veilguard (I might actually prefer it to Dragon Age II), but I can’t help but notice a pattern in its many problems – a pattern that stems from a lack of faith in the audience and a smothering commitment to safety over boldness. As I examine its narrative and roleplaying nuances, I wish to avoid comparing it to groundbreaking RPGs such as Baldur’s Gate 3 (2023) or even Dragon Age: Origins (2009), as the series has long been diverging from that type of old-school CRPG. Rather, except when absolutely necessary, I will only qualitatively compare it to Inquisition, its closest relative.

And nowhere does it come up shorter to Inquisition than in the agency (or lack thereof) bestowed to the player to influence their character and World State.

II. Damnatio Memoriae

No, that’s not the name of an Antivan Crow (though I wouldn’t blame you for thinking so, since we have a character named “Lucanis Dellamorte”). It’s a Latin phrase meaning “condemnation of memory”, applied to a reviled person by destroying records of their existence and defacing objects of their legacy. In this case, it refers to the player. When it comes to their influence over the world and their in-game avatar, The Veilguard deigns to limit or outright eliminate it.

Save transfers that allow for the transmission of World States (the carrying over of choices from the previous games) have been a staple of the Dragon Age and Mass Effect franchises. Even when their consequences are slight, the psychological effect that this personalization has on players is profound, and one of many reasons why fans grow so attached to the characters and world. At its core, it’s an illusion, but one that’s of similar importance to the illusion that an arbitrary collection of 1s and 0s can create an entire digital world. Player co-authorship guarantees a level of emotional investment that eclipses pre-built backgrounds.

However, The Veilguard limits the scope to just three choices, a dramatic decrease from the former standard. All import options come from Inquisition, with two just from the “Trespasser” expansion. One variable potentially impacts the ending, while the other two, in most cases, add one or two lines of dialogue and a single codex entry. Inquisition, by contrast, imported a bevy of choices from both previous games. Some of them had major consequences to quests such as “Here Lies the Abyss” and “The Final Piece”, both of which incorporated data from two games prior. The Veilguard is decidedly less ambitious. Conspicuously absent options include: whether Morrigan has a child or not, the fate of Hawke, the status of the Hero of Fereldan, the current monarchs of Fereldan and Orlais, the current Divine of the southern Chantry, and the individual outcomes of more than two dozen beloved party members across the series. Consequently, the fourth installment awkwardly writes around these subjects – Varric avoids mentioning his best friend, Hawke, as does Isabela ignore her potential lover. Fereldan, Orlais, and the Chantry are headed by Nobody in Particular. Morrigan, a prominent figure in the latest game, makes no mention of her potential son or even her former traveling companions. And the absence of many previous heroes, even ones with personal stakes in the story, feels palpably unnatural. I suspect this flattening of World States into a uniform mold served, in addition to cutting costs, to create parity between multiple cooperative players during the initial live-service version of Morrison. Again, the compromises of the troubled production become apparent, except this time, they’re taking a bite out of the core narrative.

Moreover, the game’s unwillingness to acknowledge quantum character states means that it’s obliged to omit several important cast members. At this point, I would’ve rather had them establish an official canon for the series rather than leaving everything as nebulous and undefined as possible. That way at least the world would’ve felt more alive, and we could’ve gotten more action out of relevant figures like Cassandra, Alistair, Fenris, Merrill, Cole, and Iron Bull. Not to mention that The Veilguard’s half-measure of respectful non-intereference in past World States ultimately fails. Certain conversations unintentionally canonize specific events, including references to Thom Rainier and Sera, both of whom could go unrecruited in Inquisition, as well as Morrigan’s transformation into a dragon in the battle with Corypheus in that game’s finale. But whatever personal history the player had with them doesn’t matter. The entire Dragon Age setting now drifts in a sea of ambiguity, its history obfuscated. It feels as gray and purgatorial as Solas’s prison for the gods.

Beyond obscuring the past, The Veilguard restrains the player’s agency over the present. When publications first announced that the game would allow audiences to roleplay transgender identities and have that acknowledged by the party, I grew very excited – both at the encouraging representation, and at the depth of roleplaying mechanics that such an inclusion suggested. Unfortunately, The Veilguard offers little in roleplaying beyond this. The player character, Rook, always manifests as an altruistic, determined, friendly hero, no matter what the player chooses (if they’re offered choices at all). The selections of gender identity and romantic partner constitute the totality of how Rook defines themselves, post-character creation – exceptions that prove the rule of vacancy. Everything else is set in stone. The options presented are good, and should remain as standard, but in the absence of other substantive roleplaying experiences, their inclusion starts to feel frustratingly disingenuous and hollow, as if they were the only aspects the developers were willing to implement, and only out of obligation to meet the bare minimum for player agency. In my opinion, it sours the feature and exudes a miasma of cynicism.

Actual decisions that impact the plot are few and far between, but at least we have plenty of dialogue trees. In this type of game, dialogue options might usually lead to diverging paths that eventually converge to progress the plot. You might be choosing between three different flavors of saying “yes”, but as with the World States, that illusion of agency is imperative for the roleplaying experience. The Veilguard doesn’t even give you the three flavors – the encouraging, humorous, and stern dialogue options are frequently interchangeable, and rarely does it ever feel like the player is allowed to influence Rook’s reactions. Relationships with companions feel predetermined, as the approval system has no bearing on your interactions anymore. There are so few moments for you to ask your companions questions and dig in deep compared to Inquisition. Combined together, these issues make me question why we even have dialogue with our party at all. Rook adopts the same parental affect with each grown adult under their command, and it feels like every conversation ends the same way irrespective of the player’s input. With the exception of the flirting opportunities, they might as well be non-interactive cutscenes.

Rook’s weak characterization drags the game down significantly. With such limited authorship afforded to the player, it’s difficult to regard them as anything more than their eponymous chess piece – a straightfoward tool, locked on a grid, and moving flatly along the surface as directed.

III. Dull in Docktown

On paper, a plot summary of The Veilguard sounds somewhere between serviceable and phenomenal: Rook and Varric track down Solas to stop him from tearing down the Veil and destroying the world. In the process, they accidentally unleash Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, two of the wicked Evanuris who once ruled over the elven people millenia ago. With Solas advising them from an astral prison, Rook gathers a party together to defeat the risen gods, along with their servants and sycophants. Over the course of the adventure, they uncover dark truths about the origins of the elves, the mysterious Titans, and the malevolent Blight that’s served as an overarching antagonistic force. Eventually, Rook and friends join forces with Morrigan and the Inquisitor, rally armies to face off with their foes, and slay both the gods and their Archdemon thralls before they can conjure the full terror of the Blight. As Solas once again betrays the group, Rook and company have to put a decisive stop to his plans, which could potentially involve finally showing him the error of his ways.

The bones of The Veilguard’s story are sturdier than a calcium golem. Problems arise when you look at the actual writing, dialogue, and characterization – the flesh, blood, and organs of the work.

I’ve seen others chide the writing as overly quippy, but that better describes previous titles. Rather, I think The Veilguard’s dialogue is excessively utilitarian and preliminary, like a first draft awaiting refinement. Characters describe precisely what’s happening on screen as it’s happening, dryly exposit upon present circumstances, and repeat the same information ad nauseum. This infuriating repetition does little to reveal hidden components of their personalities, or their unique responses to situations. You won’t hear anything like Cole’s cerebral magnetic poetry or Vivienne’s dismissive arrogance. Many exchanges could’ve been uttered by Nobody in Particular, as it’s just dry recitation after recitation. It almost feels like watching an English second language instructional video, or a demonstration on workplace safety precautions. Clarity and coherence come at the cost of characterization and charisma.

Words alone fail to make them interesting. Most companions lack the subtlety and depth I had come to expect from the franchise, with many conversations amounting to them just plainly stating how they’re feeling. Most rap sessions sound like they’re happening in a therapist’s office with how gentle, open, and uncomplicated they feel. Compare this to Inquisition, where every character has a distinct voice (I should know, I had to try to copy them for that stupid application), as well as their own personal demons that it betrays: Sera’s internalized racism, hints of Blackwall’s stolen valor, Iron Bull’s espionage masked by bluster, or Solas’s lingering guilt and yearning for a bygone age. These aspects of their characters aren’t front and center, but things the audience can delve into that gives every moment with them more texture. The Veilguard’s companions lay out all their baggage carefullly and respectfully upfront, whether it’s Taash’s multiculturalism and gender identity issues or Neve’s brooding cynicism towards Tevinter’s underbelly. You’ve plumbed the depths of their personas within the first few minutes of meeting most of them.

Small exceptions exist. Professor Emmerich Volkarin stands out from the rest of the cast as a particularly inspired character: a charming, Vincent Price-like necromancer. His attachment to tombs and necromancy as a way to cope with his crippling fear of death makes for curiously compelling melodrama. The way in which he ultimately has to face his fear – either by foregoing his opportunity for immortality to save his beloved skeletal ward, Manfred, or by allowing his friend to pass on so that he can transcend into a new type existence – rises above the other binary choices in the game by being both narratively interesting and legitimately difficult to judge. Still, I feel Emmerich’s whole “lawful good gentleman necromancer” conceit, while a unique and clever subversion of tropes, would’ve worked better if it actually contrasted with anyone else in the party. Instead, the whole crew is full of unproblematic do-gooders who are forbidden by the game to nurture any meaningful interpersonal conflict. While I’d appreciate this lack of toxicity in my real-life relationships, fictional chemistry demands more reactive ingredients.

The Veilguard’s developers frequently positioned the game as “cozy” and about a “found family”, but I can guarantee you that there’s more tension at my Thanksgiving dinners than there is anywhere in this title. This family would get along swimmingly even during a presidential election. The thing about the “found family” trope is that it’s more satisfying when it’s earned. Here, it represents the default state, the starting point, and the status quo that they will always return to. Any minor squabbles (Harding wanting to sleep in the dirt, Emmerich taking too many books on a camping trip, Taash not liking necromancy) are introduced and squashed within the same scene. They all feel so extraneous. There’s so little friction among the companions here that you’d think it disproves Newton’s Third Law. The previous games never struggled in this regard, which makes the choices here all the more baffling.

Beyond the intra-party dynamics, characters lack grit or darkness to them – even when the narrative absolutely calls for it. Remember how I described the necromancer as lawful good (to use traditional Dungeons and Dragons alignments)? Yeah, that’s every character. Even the demonic assassin. Lucanis is a notorious hitman possessed by a demon of Spite, and possibly the weakest character of the game. This may or may not be due to the fact that his writer, Mary Kirby, was laid off mid-development. Regardless, he has noticeably less content than the other party members and generally feels unfinished. The demonic possession storyline goes nowhere; he doesn’t exorcise Spite, nor does he learn more about it or how to live with it. Instead, Spite is just an excuse to give Lucanis cool spectral wings (which he will use to fail several assassination attempts). The demon itself mostly just comes across as rude rather than threatening. The biggest issue, however, stems from the absence of any edge to Lucanis. When confronting his traitorous cousin, Ilario – the man who sold out Lucanis’s family to an enemy faction, kidnapped his grandmother, and made multiple attempts on his life – our grizzled, hardened assassin, pushed to the brink, demands… due process. Seriously, if your choices have led Lucanis to have a hardened heart, his method for dealing with the grievous traitor is sending him to jail. That’s The Veilguard’s idea of vindictive brutality among a clan of unforgiving murderers-for-hire. By contrast, Inquisition features Sera insubordinately murdering a stuck-up nobleman for talking too much. I believe that if modern BioWare had written The Godfather (1972), it would’ve ended with Michael Corleone recommending his brother-in-law to attend confession and seek a marriage counselor.

The writers seem intent on making the cast wholly unproblematic, with no way that the audience could ever question their morality or taste the delicious nuance of seeing someone you like do something bad. Measures were taken to child-proof every aspect of the good guys so that they couldn’t possibly be construed as anything else – even if it constricts them to the point of numbness and eventual atrophy.

To make things as palatable and accessible as possible, the language itself was dumbed down. Characters make frequent use of neologisms and bark phrases like “Suit up,” or “These guys go hard.” It emulates popular blockbuster superhero stuff rather than staying true to the diction the series traditionally employed. It’s all about the team, and the entire Dragon Age world has been stripped down into simplistic conflicts and recognizable stock characters.

This is why The Veilguard’s story largely fails. Despite being ostensibly being about the characters, they come off as an afterthought. Most of the time, only the sole requisite follower has anything to say on a given mission. Even in combat, their wholeness as fully-implemented party members falls short of expectations. Their damage output pales in comparison to the Rook’s, they have no health and cannot be downed in battle, and they mainly exist to give the player three extra ability slots. That’s the game’s true ethos for the companions, whether in combat or dialogue – utility, tools to make things happen rather than elegantly crafted identities. We end up with the largest amount of content per companion among any game in the franchise, only to have the weakest roster.

I know these writers can do better, because I’ve seen them do better. Trick Weekes wrote Iron Bull, Cole, and Solas in Inquisition, as well as Mordin Solus and Tali’Zorah in Mass Effect 2 (2010) and Mass Effect 3. Mary Kirby wrote Varric throughout the series, as well as Sten and Loghain in Origins. Plenty of other experienced writers, such as Sylvia Feketekuty and John Dombrow also contributed, so I can’t put any of the blame on a lack of skill. I don’t know if the mistake was trying to appeal to a wider audience, or if the constant reorientations of the DA4 project drained the crew’s passion and left them lacking in time to polish things.

I personally suspect that the writers had to rush out a script for all of the voiced dialogue. A video from August of 2020 showed off the voice actors for Davrin and Bellara, more than four years before the final game’s release. I think the codex entries, letters, and missives that you find throughout the game, which consist of only text, are much better written than the dialogue. My theory is that the writers had more time to revise and spruce up these tidbits, where edits were minimally invasive, as far as production is concerned. But my knowledge is limited; after all, BioWare rejected my application almost a decade ago.

Still, there are aspects of The Veilguard’s plot that I enjoy. The lore reveals were particularly satisfying2, and many felt rewarding after a decade of speculation. I called that elves were originally spirits, as well as the connection between the Archdemons and the Evanuris, but I wouldn’t have guessed that the Blight formed out of the smoldering rage of the Titans’ severed dreams. I’d concisely describe The Veilguard’s story as the opposite of Mass Effect 3: Whereas ME3 did excellent character work, the characterization in The Veilguard leaves much to be desired. Whereas ME3’s tone was overwhelmingly grim, The Veilguard feels inappropriately positive. Whereas ME3’s lore reveals ruined much about the series’s mystique, The Veilguard’s helped tie the setting’s history together. And whereas ME3 fumbled the ending about as much as it possibly could, The Veilguard actually coalesces into a spectacular third act.

While I think the twist with Varric’s death is weak (outright pitiful compared to the Dread Wolf twist of Inquisition), the actual events that make up the finale carry a momentum and urgency that the rest of the game severely lacked. Everything from the sacrifice and kidnapping of Rook’s companions to the slaying of Ghilan’nain to the awe-inspiring battle between the Dread Wolf and Archdemon Lusacan – the whole affair takes the best parts of Mass Effect 2’s Suicide Mission and elevates it to the scale of an apocalyptic series finale. Ultimately, Solas takes center stage as the final antagonist, and the drama crescendos to a height the rest of the game desperately needed. He remains the most interesting character in the game and perhaps the franchise, and thankfully, the resolution to his story did not disappoint me (though I would’ve preferred the option for a boss battle against his Dread Wolf form if the player’s negotiations broke down). So in that sense, I think the worst possible scenario was avoided.

But is that really worth celebrating? Averting complete disaster? Exceeding the lowest standards? In many regards, The Veilguard still could have been – should have been – more.

IV. A World of Tranquil

In my essay on Final Fantasy VII: Rebirth (2024), I briefly discussed a trend in media to sand off the edges so as not to upset the audience in any way. The encroachment of this media sanitization seems to be an over-correction to the brimming grimness of late 2000s and early 2010s fiction (to which the first two Dragon Age titles belong), which earned comparable levels of criticism. Like Solas, I occasionally feel trapped in a cycle of regret, where it feels like our previous yearning for less aggressive, mean-spirited content led to a media landscape that prioritized patronizingly positive art. Now it’s clear to me that, in order to have a point, you need to have an edge.

Dragon Age historically drew a very progressive audience, and many of them congregated around Tumblr in that website’s heyday. Tumblr has garnered something of a reputation for overzealous discourse and sensitivity among its userbase, and I think that the developers of The Veilguard, in an attempt to cater to one of their core audiences, may have misunderstood both that passion and the fundamental appeal of their products. They became so concerned about optics, about avoiding politically charged criticism, that they kneecapped their world-building, rendering it as inoffensive and sterile as possible. It’s not so much “PC culture” as it is “PG culture.”

To that end, the various governments, factions, and societies of Thedas lost their edge. Dragon Age previously presented itself as anti-authoritarian by showcasing the rampant abuses of power across all cultures. Whether it was the incarceration of mages under the Chantry, the slavery practiced by the Tevinter Imperium, the expansionist anti-individualism of the Qun, the restrictive dwarven caste system, or the rampant racism against elves, social strife abounded in this world. I think that’s one thing that drew so many marginalized fans to the series. But the correlation of fictional atrocities with those of real life frequently prompted volatile discourse, with many concerned about how allegedly allegorized groups were being represented. You began to see countless essays pop up by folks who use the phrase “blood quantum” more than any healthy person should for a setting about wizards. BioWare responded to this by making Thedosian society wholly pleasant and the people in power responsible and cool and the disparate cultures tolerant and cooperative. If nothing’s portrayed negatively (outside of the cartoonishly evil gods), nobody can take offense, right?

For starters, the Antivan Crows have gone from an amoral group of assassins to basically Batman. These figures, which previously purchased children off slave markets to train them into killers, are now the “true rulers” of Antiva, by which the official government derives its authority. The Crows in The Veilguard stand against the insurgent qunari army as heroes of the common folk. They’re not an unscrupulous faction that Rook is reluctantly forced to ally with for the greater good; no, the Crows are simply good guys now. When the pompous governor of Treviso rails against them, with such audacious claims as “assassins and thugs should not represent the citizenry,” we’re meant to laugh at the governor’s foolishness. The unintentional implication this sends is that lethal vigilantism and unchecked power are cool because the people who use it are cool and stylish. The slave trade goes unacknoweldged; Antivan children want to grow up to be assassins now. The Crows never do anything wrong in The Veilguard – the governor is later revealed to be cooperating with the invaders for their own power. BioWare avoids the unpleasantness inherent in the Crows’ concept by pretending it never existed.

Perhaps more ridiculous is the Lords of Fortune, a new faction of pirates and treasure hunters based out of Rivain. Except they don’t really do piracy or treasure hunting. The game goes to lengths to ensure that the audience knows that the Lords don’t steal important cultural artifacts from any of the tombs and ruins they raid. What do they steal, then? There is no such thing as an ethical treasure hunter – plundering indigenous sites for souvenirs is inherently problematic – but the writers wanted to reap the appeal of adventurous swashbucklers without any of the baggage, regardless of whether it makes sense or not3. It comes across as a child’s idea of a pirate: they’re not thinking about the murder and looting, just the funny men with eye-patches who say “ARRR!” The developers want us to like the Lords of Fortune, and to that end, they can’t do anything culturally insensitive – even fictional disrespect toward a made-up culture. This is doubly amusing because the Lords are represented by Isabela from Dragon Age II. The same Isabela that kicked off a war with the qunari by stealing their holy book, the Tome of Koslun. This irony goes unacknowledged by the game.4

When these rogue buccaneers aren’t busy giving land acknowledgments to displaced Dalish elves or whatever, they’re enjoying their nonviolent coliseum. Pirates revel in bloodsport, but only so long as no actual blood is spilled. The Lords refuse to fight prisoners or animals in their arena, as they find such acts too cruel. I guess they’re all big Peter Singer readers. Instead, they summon spirits to adopt the visages of common enemies so that the player can kill them with a clean conscience. It’s another example of wanting to have your cake and eat it too – they wanted to create a glory hunter/gladiator faction, but couldn’t stand the underlying implications of such. So they twisted and bent them to fit into their unproblematic paradigm, leaving the Lords flavorless and lame. They barely even contribute to the main story, and they’re practically the only look we get into Rivaini society (which remains criminally underdeveloped).

More tragic is the handling of the qunari, once one of the most unique and nuanced civilizations in the Dragon Age setting. The Qun, as portrayed in the first three installments, is a society that demands all of its composite parts work in harmony. Thus, they have predetermined vocations for their children, rigid gender roles, strict codes of conduct, and an ambition to “enlighten” the rest of the world. While the Qun has often been presented as antagonistic toward the heroes, the series has commonly balanced its portrayal by showing how seductive its absolutism can be for people without hope. In some cases, life under the Qun is preferable, as is the case with former Tevinter slaves. Conformity becomes comfort when the world is regularly threatening to split apart.

The Veilguard opts for a different approach. See, Rook’s not fighting members of the Qun in this game – they’re fighting the Antaam, the former qunari military. The Veilguard constantly reiterates that the Antaam, which makes up one of the three branches of the Qun, has broken off and decided to invade, pillage, and stoke chaos. BioWare didn’t want the questionable morality and complexity of fighting an invading people from a humanized, multi-faceted culture, so they removed their culture. Their efforts to turn the non-Western-coded qunari into something digestible for their mistaken conception of a modern audience instead results in two caricatures: one being a fetishized, perfect society where there are no perceivable social ills; and the other a bunch of rampaging brutes.

Contending with a realized conception of Plato’s Republic mixed with the Ottoman Empire makes for more compelling drama than a horde of murderous giants. Again, BioWare wanted to have it both ways, and they still needed nameless, faceless orcs to kill. So every bit about the qunari’s militancy, imperialism, and repression coexisting alongside some of their more progressive ideas and communal unity is stripped of its context and meaning. Blame is placed solely on the Antaam, who no longer represent (and retroactively, never represented) the Qun’s ideology. It’s a cowardly compromise, attempting to pin the blame of all the Qun’s failings on a renegade military and seeking to exonerate the political and social apparatuses of their culpability.

At one point, a minor character named Seer Rowan lectures to an ignorant human (a proxy for the audience absorbing these retcons) that qunari society has always been egalitarian in practice, with mages enjoying freedom there. Previous games showed that the qunari shackle their “saarebas” mages, stitch their mouths, cut out their tongues, and teach them to commit suicide if they ever stray from their masters. However, we’re now assured that this is only practiced under the Antaam, and No True Qunari would ever do such a thing. Ignore the fact that, in Inquisition, we witness the enslaved saarebas under the supervision of the Ben-Hasserath, a subdivision of the Ariqun (i.e. not part of the Antaam). In fact, the Antaam that Rook fights in The Veilguard never command saarebas at all. They’re completely absent from the game (likely because the image of the bound, mutilated minority was too much for The Veilguard’s sensibilities). Seer Rowan’s weak, conciliatory retcon can’t even justify itself in its own game. The scolding diatribe communicates an intrinsic misunderstanding of the Qun by the writers – namely, it continues the pattern established with the Antivan Crows that the mechanics of power in society are fundamentally good as long as aberrant forces aren’t in charge. While I understand the desire to be conscientious about the portrayal of fictional cultures that draw upon non-Western traditions and iconography (which have historically been demonized in media), glamorizing the Qun and stripping it of its realistic nuance does little to alleviate any problems with representation. If anything, it creates new ones.

But hey, now we have our faceless orcs to guiltlessly slaughter. That’s what the Antaam’s been reduced to, bereft of the ideology that made them people. We kill them because they’re strange and scary and foreign and seeking to destroy our cities for fun. They remain the most prominent representation of the qunari in-game, barring our party member Taash. BioWare’s attempts to reverse what they viewed as problematic components to the qunari instead devolved into the very tropes they wished to avoid.

Which leads us to the elves. Much of the series’s discourse has surrounded the portrayal of the long-suffering elven people, who endure slavery under Tevinter, expulsion from their homeland in the Dales, confinement in ghettos, and the general disdain from other races. The games’ stories use symbolic shorthand of real-life oppressed peoples to communicate these tragedies, and this has led to a variety of intense, emotional interpretations over the years. The unending misery of the systematically marginalized elves hasn’t gone unnoticed by the fanbase – and their criticisms haven’t gone unnoticed by the developers. To quote The Veilguard’s creative director, John Epler, in an interview with Polygon:

“Dragon Age has not always been the kindest to the Dalish [elves]. Somebody once made a joke to me, and it’s not untrue, that it’s possible to wipe out a Dalish clan in all three of the games in some way.”

He and others on the development team must’ve thought elves needed a break, because the omnipresent racism against them vanishes completely in The Veilguard. Tevinter, an empire built on the back of chattel slavery, doesn’t show any of that. Consequently, it feels like players in the know still haven’t seen the true face of Tevinter, despite spending half a game there. The notion that the capital of Minrathous gives now is one of a prosperous city that’s centuries ahead of the countries down south, rather than a cruel regime cracking the whip at every opportunity. Perhaps the writers weren’t comfortable portraying this, or felt that their audience might not be amenable to it after years of incendiary argumentation. Nevertheless, it castrates their established world-building and robs us of the opportunity to witness true elven liberation in the climax. With both the fall of Minrathous and the toppling of the tyrannical elven gods, we could have delivered a much needed catharsis after four games of oppression, but The Veilguard forgoes this storytelling opportunity to play it safe.

I worry that this hesitancy originated from anxieties about the sensitivity of depicting marginalized peoples in brutal, dehumanizing conditions, and how that might look to more fragile viewers. But I think it’s important for all players, watchers, and readers to know that, though there might be aspects shared between them, fictional minorities are distinct from real ones.

Dragon Age’s elves are aesthetically Celtic. Their residency in alienages evokes images of Disapora Jews in Europe. Their Long Walk after being driven from the Dales calls back to the Trail of Tears, sharing an experience with Native Americans. Their subsequent migratory nature is reminiscent of the Romani people. And their ancient empire of Arlathan, with its large columns and temples of worship, headed by ascended humanoid (for lack of a better term) deities that cast down an enemy called the Titans, and which has since had its religion and culture co-opted and renamed by Roman-inspired Tevinter invites comparisons to classical Greece.

My point is, the elves of Dragon Age don’t represent one group of people, because fictional cultures are constructs drawing from countless inspirations. If they represent anything beyond themselves, it’s the idea of a proud people that’s fallen under the yoke of conquering powers – a supervictim to embody all. The idea that one must be limited in their storytelling options based on how the portrayal might reflect upon or disrespect an existing culture is flawed, in my opinion. In the overwhelming majority of cases, coding cannot be read as a 1:1 allegory, especially in speculative fiction like science-fiction and fantasy. I believe the most mature way to evaluate a story isn’t to try to pigeonhole what it’s trying to say say about who, as if there’s some insidious encrypted message in the text. Rather, it’s to see the forest through the trees and interpret the work as a complete whole in itself.

On that basis, I ask: would it have been so bad to see some of those enslaved elves, praying for salvation, side with their manipulative, nefarious gods? To add some nuance to the conflict with Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, would the story of elven liberation not have been better if the game actually engaged with it? Could we actually have a moral quandary with those whom Rook ends up fighting, even if the content might be seemingly problematic?

Epler might respond in the negative, per the Polygon interview, claiming that the gods “simply don’t care” about the elves.

“Those blighted, decrepit gods, they’re not bothering with the soft pitch. Their pitch is, We’re going to make a horrible world. We’re going to give you a lot of power, and maybe you’ll be OK.”

Like a chess board, the core conflict of The Veilguard is black and white. BioWare abandoned the chance to make Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain more interesting villains because it was too risky.

Similarly risky was Solas’s role as an antagonist, since his motivations, as explained in “Trespasser”, are deeply sympathetic. Perhaps too much so for the developers’ comfort. Unlike the Evanuris and their disinterest in the elves, Solas wants to restore the elven people to their former glory. At least, that seemed to be his pitch in the last game. Frustratingly absent from The Veilguard are the Agents of Fen’Harel – elves who swore fealty to Solas’s cause. They infiltrated and compromised the Inquisition, effectively precipitating the final decision to end the organization in its current form. The idea that Solas had amassed an army of common folk who found the idea of a renewed elven empire appealing made him appear formidable and intimidating. “Trespasser” implies that a mass uprising of elves under Solas’s leadership was imminent, and anyone could be in on it.

None of this happens in The Veilguard. Not only does Solas lack an army, but their absence isn’t explained or even acknowledged. As a result, Solas remains a passive antagonist until near the end, since the player has no disciples of his to contend with (either physically or ideologically) along the way. It wastes a side of his character that had been foreshadowed in a decade-long cliffhanger – that of a charismatic leader, capable of coordinating a rebellion that could spell disaster for its own followers.

In a Reddit AMA after the latest game’s release, Epler answered where the Agents of Fen’Harel disappeared to:

“Solas’ experience leading the rebellion against the Evanuris turned him against the idea of being a leader. You see it in the memories – the entire experience of being in charge ate at him and, ultimately, convinced him he needed to do this on his own. And his own motivations were very different from the motivations of those who wanted to follow him – he had no real regard for their lives or their goals. So at some point between Trespasser and DATV, he severed that connection with his ‘followers’ and went back to being a lone wolf. There are Dalish clans who are sympathetic to his goals, but even there, there’s an understanding that he’s too dangerous to have a more formal connection with, and that he will, ultimately, sacrifice them to his own ends if necessary.”

I find this explanation unsatisfying, not the least bit because the narrative offers next to nothing to imply this. The disappearance of Solas’s agents represents my biggest bugbear with the game, depriving it of the full potential of its highly anticipated antagonist in favor of the more generically villainous Evanuris. Moreover, this omission fits into the aggravating blueprint for The Veilguard’s inoffensive direction. The motivations, emotions, and backgrounds of the Agents of Fen’Harel would be sympathetic, and therefore might problematize the otherwise cut-and-dry conflicts. Epler seemed concerned that audiences might think Solas was “a little too sympathetic in his goals,” according to an interview with GamesRadar+.

But that’s the thing: sympathy isn’t endorsement, and portrayal of sympathetic characters isn’t endorsement either. But neither does that invalidate the emotions and experiences that generate that sympathy, even if the character’s actions ultimately turn toward evil. I’ve noticed a trend (especially in symptomatic criticism, which I generally dislike5) to view art as propaganda, and to evaluate it from a moralizing, top-down perspective. Antagonists with complex or understandable motivations (in this case, revolutionary villains) are often judged by this framework as tools for stories wishing to champion the status quo. Common arguments that I’ve seen imply that the relatability that we often find in villains is not a strength of the writing, but a devilish trick of ideology by which writers can reinforce conservative doctrine, to scold us away from certain beliefs. Any decent writer knows this isn’t the case, and that people don’t write morally or emotionally complex antagonists for didactic purposes. Instead, characters such as these embody the anxieties of their creators – the fear of losing yourself to your passions, the fear of going about things the wrong way, the fear of sacrificing too much to achieve your desired ends. The concepts and feelings that compel these characters remain authentic to the writer’s heart and the connection they established with the audience.

Art isn’t propaganda. To read it as such reduces it and promotes intellectual dishonesty and foolhardy myopia. Stories are irreducible (otherwise, we would not waste our time with them), and so I believe interpretations should be formed from the bottom-up, rooted in the text as much as possible. The “message” cannot be imposed from the top-down, but symptomatic readings, in their focus on tropes and cultural context, frequently condemn without a trial. Hindering your story in order to future-proof it for the sake of optics is a safeguard against this, and one that leads to bad stories. Artists should have confidence that their text will hold its ground on its own. To quote Ursula K. Le Guin’s essay “A Message about Messages”:

“The complex meanings of a serious story or novel can be understood only by participation in the language of the story itself. To translate them into a message or reduce them to a sermon distorts, betrays, and destroys them… Any reduction of that language into intellectual messages is radically, destructively incomplete.” (67-68)

BioWare’s doctrine of passive writing violates this wisdom by surrendering to their fear of (bad) criticism. The Veilguard lacks punch, stakes, and empathy and becomes incongruous with its established lore because it’s not willing to take risks that might alienate or upset players. They’re more concerned with making sure their work is inoffensive than they are with conveying a moving story.

I believe all of this was inherited from an incestuous feedback loop between a vocal minority of critics, of which I might’ve once counted myself among the blameworthy, and the apprehensiveness of out-of-touch corporate board room decision-making. Dragon Age’s genome mutated, and it slowly lost its teeth.

Over the course of a decade, we bred the Dread Wolf into a Dread Pug.

V. What It Took

The Veilguard’s lack of confidence in itself and lack of faith in its audience contribute to its capitulatory nature. In many respects, it feels like the developers lost their passion for it over the course of the ten year hellish production and just wanted to be done with it. This resulted in a decent game that nonetheless feels divorced from what came before it. It tries to juggle being a soft reboot while also trying to close out the series’s biggest and longest running story arcs, but inevitably fumbles.

Nearly everything done by The Veilguard was handled better by Inquisition. And Inquisition was certainly the more ambitious title. Perhaps more returning characters would have established a sense of continuity between the two, or at least made it less awkward by having them present for the story’s grand finale. For as strong as the endgame is, it could’ve benefited from the presence of slave liberator Fenris, elven history aficionado Merrill, possible Evanuris soul vessel Sera, or Divine Victoria (any of them). The core pillar of Dragon Age is the characters, and The Veilguard’s under-performance (and in some cases, outright dismissal) in that regard sabotages its integrity. Without this to anchor it, the changes to gameplay, visuals, and roleplaying depth become more alienating.

Personally, what do I take away from this? The Veilguard is far from the game I dreamed about for ten years, and not the one that loyal fans deserved either. I’m no stranger to disappointment at this point in my life, and yet this still leaves me with a hollow feeling. Will I still be able to return to Inquisition, a game I truly adore, and see it the same way as before, knowing now where all this is leading? The true cost of The Veilguard, for me, has nothing to do with the price tag: it’s the loss of that perfectly tailored dream, now that the possibilities of the future have shut their gates.

Where do those dreams go? Are they doomed to fester in their lonely, incommunicable agony? Will they be twisted by their enmity, like the blighted dreams of the Titans, and spread their corruption into those important happy memories?

In 2014, I was depressed as fuck, and Dragon Age: Inquisition helped me to see the light and come out of it. In 2024, I was depressed as fuck, and Dragon Age: The Veilguard made me feel nothing. There’s no less favorable comparison in my eyes. It’s disheartening to behold something that once meant so much to me and be greeted with numbness. I have to wonder if that affection will ever return, or if I’ve just grown out of it.

But as I wandered the streets of Minrathous as Rook, I heard a familiar song. It was one of the tavern songs from Inquisition, its nostalgic chords filling me with wistful sentiment. I know, deep down, there’s still something there. Maybe I just need to dig it up. Maybe it’s time to look back…

To be continued…

– Hunter Galbraith

Further Reading

Le Guin, Ursula K. “A Message about Messages.” Wonderbook: The Illustrated Guide to Creating Imaginative Fiction, Abrams Image, 2018, pp. 67–68.

Incidentally, this was an anomaly my friends and I pondered over and eventually solved. It turned out to be a former Wienerschnitzel. ↩︎

You could argue that this credit goes more to Inquisition and the previous games for laying the groundwork for said reveals, which were obviously planned out ahead of time, as confirmed by the aforementioned official artbook. Regardless, the payoff satisfied me and gave me proper closure. ↩︎

I’ve been informed that there is a hidden conversation that explains that the Lords of Fortune do, in fact, sell cultural artifacts at times, but only to the rightful owners. This just makes me wonder what they do with the artifacts if the prospective clients can’t pay. Do they shove them back in the ruins and re-arm all the booby traps? ↩︎

I would argue that this does not represent character progression on Isabela’s part, as her (possible, depending on the player’s choices) return of the Tome of Koslun in Dragon Age II was a pragmatic sacrifice she made to save her friends and the city, rather than an acknowledgment of the qunari’s inviolable ownership. In fact, in many continuities, she never returns the Tome at all. ↩︎

I prefer more formalist criticism because it allows the text to lead the dance, not the critique. I think it’s only fair, given that the creators likely spent more effort crafting the piece than I spent consuming it. Symptomatic criticism mandates that the reader consider everything around the text, typically at the text’s expense. In the worst cases, symptomatic critics make their arguments about seemingly everything besides the text in question. ↩︎ Link to article: https://planckstorytime.wordpress.com/2025/01/01/dragon-age-the-veilguard-strangled-by-gentle-hands/

284 notes · View notes

iratempestatis · 29 days ago

Note

did someone ask for... XIAO REQUESTS??

*manifests in a purple glowy glittery cloud from a magic circle on the floor*

I have been summoned.

What about a scenario where Xiao is trying to get a gift for his s/o? have him not only maybe trying to craft something, maybe he wants the gift to be so perfect he goes around Liyue and the harbor to find the best wrappings, the best ribbons and the best snacks to go along with his gift?

Xiao SOOOO needs more fics these days 😩

"For You."

Xiao x gn!reader, 4k words.

Just a bunch of fluff, Xiao might be a liiiitle bit ooc but I tried my best <3. I had way too much writing this lmao, it's vv self indulgent. It did diverge a teensy bit from how exactly you wanted, anon, but I hope you still like it <3 Feel free to send more Xiao asks!

Xiao remembers the first time he got you a present.

It was nothing, really. You mentioned needing violetgrass to finish a commission one day. It'd made Xiao wonder why exactly an adventurer would need a medicinal herb in such large quantities, but he hadn't known you for long, so he didn't bother to figure out why.

You didn't talk to him much back then- only really knowing him because you were forced (yes, you!) to cohabitate with him while you found a residence in the harbor.

You were impetuous- not of faith and certainly not respectful, and it irked you massively when he'd step away whenever you greeted him, or silently turn his back on you and vanish. He didn't quite know how to articulate why without venting his frustrations to a stranger, so he never did.

He remembers you being violently sick during the colder months and still stubbornly trying to yank your bags out of a friend's arms, furiously sniffing and telling them you needed to do this.

Xiao knew for a fact you were diligent with your commissions- you liked Mora and you liked being comfortable. It couldn't be rent. He couldn't help but puzzle about it for hours, tucked away in the soft, cool damp trees on Wuwang hill until your shriek broke him out of his reverie.

After abruptly appearing before you (and scaring you more than half to death), as well as many hours of hunting the elusive herb made even more elusive by the chill, you had a nice basketful by evening.

“I wanted two,” he remembers you saying ruefully. He can't remember what you wore or even what you'd sounded like. Or if that was even what you'd said. But he remembers knowing you needed two basketfuls somehow, and you only had one, and your eyelids weighed down by disappointment, and the press of your lips.

He remembers putting a second basket in your balcony by dawn, and he remembers feeling a sudden rush of fondness when he found out you did it unexpectedly for a sick Baizhu, without his knowledge, expecting no fee. He remembers talking to you more when you lunged out of the shadows at Wangshu inn, to grab his arm and beam and thank him. He remembers the first time he touched you on his own- fingers gingerly reaching forward to pluck a piece of thread off your face. He remembers you disappearing for months on a long mission, only to return home and run straight into his arms, your newest glider fluttering on your back. Right there in his arms. He doesn't remember breathing. He remembers the way your fingers felt when they brushed against his in that moment, for the very first time. He remembers you asking if you could hug him, “just for a moment please,” and he remembers scoffing in surprise, then quickly saying yes.

But for the love of- god? Which god? He was a god and he didn't love himself too much. Morax? For the love of Morax, then, why couldn't he remember the things you liked?

He remembers everything you like and nothing all at once. Books? You have them. Brushes? Clothes? Would you even wear what he bought you? What if it wasn't your style? What if- maybe a bag? No, you never used bags you didn't buy. Something about the quality of the fabric. A handbag? Would you use it often? Probably not. Another glider? A glider made of his feathers, perhaps? Dear god no, that would be. Alarming. Snacks? You'd eat them. They're an addition, not the present itself. Furniture? A body pillow? You mentioned wanting a Ningguang body pillow. What the fuck is a body pillow?

He bites back the urge to throw his almond tofu at the wall. A gift for someone so precious must be one of equal value– but really, what could compare to your smiles, or the way you veered into him on walks, or the way you’d stumble to the bathroom in the middle of the night? Or your adorably frustrated expression when your cooking turned out not quite right? Every minute spent with you was spent carefully watching, memorising. He couldn’t bear the thought of forgetting even the smallest details.

He remembers his first gift to you- a silver hairpin, laden with heavy flowers of jade and quartz that chinked against one another at the slightest movement. He remembers the the way your eyes widened when you unwrapped it.

It frustrated him.

You were pleased with all his presents- you never seemed to prefer one over the other. The amulet he brought to protect you? With you in a pouch on every commission. The hairpin? You wore it on special occasions. The crystalflies he caught you on a whim were kept in a pretty glass container on your bedside table. You kept the flowers he brought you for months until even their potpourri turned to dust. What did you like better?

He swears by the skies he’s never been more frustrated- or desperate.

Your birthday draws closer by the minute and he’s determined to be the first to give you a present, even if it means… talking to people.

✦—————————————✦

He wishes Verr Goldet would stop looking so… Astonished. He knows he should be working! He’ll get to it right after he acquires your present… which would be?

“Perhaps- perhaps perfume?” she suggests, finally regaining composure. “They mentioned being fond of perfumes, although they usually don’t quite use it. Also…” She hesitates, then shakes her head with a smile. “It is good to see you home.”

He’s startled- he can’t help being so, not when she’s giving him such a sincere smile (that he unknowingly softly returns.) Strange mortal. Thanking her, he leaps off the balcony rails, unfurling wings of teal and gold. Perfume. Not the most inspired gift, but perhaps he’d come across something at the harbour?

✦—————————————✦

He does, unfortunately, come across something at the harbour. It’s an annoying little something (endearing on the days he feels more patient), slightly tall, vaguely maniacal. In a fun way.

Hu Tao has dragged him across every stupid stall on the northern side of the harbour. They’ve seen all sorts of absurd fish (even ones he thought were long extinct, good for them- or perhaps not, since they were soon to be a meal), clothes, china, children’s toys (he’s pretty sure you’d like the fat finch carving actually, so he gets it) and… perfume?

Hu Tao beams as she gestures to the man lounging in a corner of the harbour, asleep with an arm thrown over his wares. The wares happen to be several exquisite (regrettably empty) bottles.

He blinks. “Where is the perfume?”

“Huh? You want me to get you that, too?” A fly lands on her face and she swats it away. “I don’t really know where to get one you’d like. What sort of smells do you like? Can you even smell? I thought birds couldn’t smell?”

He sighs at the cascade of questions. “Some can’t, some ca- you digress.”

“Fine, but listen- aren’t the bottles so pretty?” She reaches for one and he’s forced to admit they are. The one in her hand is fashioned to mimic a gently sloped, round rock, with qingxin flowers acting as the lid. A bit unorthodox, but charming. “You can put whatever you want inside! Plus you told me you wanted a bottle of perfume, not a bottle with perfume-“

Well.

✦—————————————✦

That’s two gifts and neither is as he wants, nor perhaps as you’d want. He thinks back to the gifts you’ve given him- so intricate, so thoughtful. The best gift is still you, though, and the time he spends with you is enough to wash away years of anguish. When you fall asleep in his arms, the tension within him comes undone. This world has never treated him well, but its one benefaction was the vision hanging at your hip. He can’t help but trace it gently with his fingers, running his hands up and down your waist, so, so lightly. He’s grateful.

He wishes he could gift you even a fraction of the joy you bring him.

A whistle snaps him out of his thoughts. Yelan lowers herself to sit next to him on the cool stone steps going down to the harbour. Where did she come from? Was that blood-

“Soup. Tomato soup.” She pops the ‘p’ as she speaks. He can smell the blood. “No worries.” He does worry. She laughs when she sees his face. “It’s not mine, relax. What brings our hermit adeptus to the harbour?”

She reaches for the bag of purchases in his hands as he explains. “I’m here to get (Name) a present.” She turns the finch around in her hands, amused, and he continues. “I’m yet to come across anything significant. Do you have any… recommendations?”

Yelan tsks and stares at the hubbub below, deliberating. Xiao glances at the luxurious fur on her jacket rustle gently in the breeze and wonders how they ever became friends. His advent into the Chasm… well, he truly did think he would die, but he instead returned with closure and absurd company.

More or less anyway- Yelan is too busy to come visit frequently, but she’ll sometimes call him for no reason. To sample some dessert she bought, or to tell him a mundane story. He suspects it’s so she can keep an eye on his health. Sometimes, in his nightmares, he sees her stricken face when he teleported her out the Chasm, when she thought he’d never return.

“What are you thinking?” She raises an eyebrow. “It had better be something productive, not daydreams of (Name).”

“Those are productive,” he counters. “But forget it… suggestions?”

“Maybe jewellery?” She stands up and dusts herself off. “It’s a little cliché, but never a fail. And probably some perfume to put into that bottle… which I will go get, because… no. Actually, you should come too.” She grins.

✦—————————————✦

He’s never talking to Yelan again. The shop she suggested had some lovely ear cuffs, shaped like wings and flowers, clouds and daggers. Pretty. He got you a few pairs, which the shopkeeper seemed delighted about. Were they expensive, by mortal standards?

He peeks into the bag and watches them glitter through the glass case. Probably.

The thought of you wearing them makes him feel a bit lightheaded. You’re always at the very zenith of loveliness, so it always astounds him to see you turn more and more beautiful by the day. The ear cuffs would accentuate your charm wonderfully. He grins at the thought, then painedly coughs, recalling Ying’er. By Morax, she made him profoundly uncomfortable, then compounded that discomfort with every passing minute. Yelan found it hilarious and he admits, only to himself, he’d find it equally amusing if it was someone else in his place.

In any case, he now has a rather large bag of presents. A fat finch, jewellery, a pretty bottle containing gentle perfume extracted from the flowers of your hometown (he’s so proud of expertly dodging Ying’er’s questions on how he got them) and-? A coffin keychain?

He sighs and keeps it.

While he has all these offerings present for the god that reigns supreme in his heart… there is no centrepiece, no special present. When he asks Yanfei and Ping, they glance at one another and gleefully suggest a wedding ring, to which he gives a forceful no. He’d never want to make you celebrate two things in one day- after all, that’s one less day of merrymaking.

✦—————————————✦

Liyue Harbour looks so pretty in the night.

You remember a friend of yours telling you something once. Liyue Harbour makes you feel melancholy on the bad days, and warm on the good. She was right.

Sometimes, you have trouble deciphering what exactly it is that you’re feeling. And sometimes, you have trouble facing your feelings altogether.

As you trod through the gates facing Mt. Tianheng, you feel a pit softly open through in your chest. Inside of you, something stays deathly still, trying to ignore it, even as soft, powdery tendrils attempt to coax you inside.

It’s two in the morning, and it is also your birthday.

The shops and stalls are nearly all closed, with only some taverns open late into the night. They’ll close soon enough too, though. If you crane your neck enough, you know you’ll catch a view of the Pearl Galley, radiant and luxurious, a warm spot on the cool waves.

Sometimes Xiao walks you home after a long day. He’ll pause on the road while you receive your commission Mora from Katheryne, and you go take a walk along the harbour, buying groceries for dinner, him sighing as you find and inhale the unhealthiest snacks you can contrive, and scoffing when you offer them to him- even though there’s no force behind it.

And sometimes you sit on the edge of the port, watching the Pearl Galley take gentle laps around the port. Amusedly trying (and failing) to take a peek inside, wondering which socialite paid the lovely maidens aboard a visit.

But there’s no Xiao here today. He hasn’t visited in a while, and it’s your birthday.

You blink rapidly, eyes stinging. It’s okay. Birthdays happen every year and you’re not a child, you’re just tired after a long day.

“And besides.” You pat a stray dog as you walk past it to your home. “It’s so late. He’ll hopefully remember and wish me tomorrow?”

She answers with a whine and a wag of her tail. You chuckle.

“Stay right here. I’ll get you something.” You blow it a kiss, your temper buoyant once more. It’s so late, you can’t expect Xiao to-

“I already fed her.”

You nearly stumble (curse those mountains, your muscles are so goddamn sore) with how fast you whirl to face him. He’s right there, in soft, loose clothes. The lights inside the house come on as he gives your baffled face the smallest, softest of smiles. “Happy birthday, (Name).”

You bark a laugh as you rush into his arms.

✦—————————————✦

You’re not sure what exactly you did for this world to give you Xiao, the most beautiful of creatures, kindest of people, gentlest of hearts. You used to think his distance and clipped sentences were an armour worn to protect his jaded heart from the world. You were heartbroken yet skeptical when Wang Ping’an told you of it being the opposite- that he cares deeply for his people and is devoted to his duty. That he has much love to give, but never could on account of his karmic debt.

You don’t know what you’d do if not for your vision.

Xiao’s firm, calloused fingers softly massage your scalp. He offered to help you wash your hair when you mentioned being too tired and sore to do it on your own, so you’re now in your bathroom seated on a stool as he does it for you. One hand reaches down gently to prevent the foam from entering your eye as you ramble on about the day you’ve had. He frowns when you tell him you got nearly killed by a treasure hoarder, then looks almost impressed when he hears you befriended the schmuck.

“And he’s not a bad guy, really.” You boop his nose gently with a wet finger and it scrunches slightly. “He just didn’t have a choice, y’know? Anyway, I told him I’d help him get a job. He’s gonna stay over until he gets back on his feet, so be nice when you see him, okay?”

Xiao blinks rapidly. His eyelashes are so pretty. “Wait- are you certain you can trust him? Tilt your head back.”

You tip your head back and explain as he rinses your hair. “He’s just a kid, really. He’s new to this treasure hoarder schtick. And it should be fine, right? I’ll keep the valuables locked and let him have the guest room. Poor kid, do you think he’ll be able to wait on people? Maybe I could convince Chef Mao?

“He has his hands full with Shenhe.” Xiao snorts. “I don’t think he can take any more. Although if you want… I could take the child to Wangshu Inn with me. Perhaps he could assist Huai’an.”

You gasp in delight and beam at him. You swear you see his pupils dilate. “You’d do that for him?”

“For you.”

✦—————————————✦

Dinner was pleasant- all you could focus was inhaling anything and everything remotely edible present on the table. You were ravenous.

Even so, you couldn’t help but notice the anticipatory looks Xiao gave you, the little taps of his clawed fingers on the table. He didn’t say a word as you finished your meal. Just looked at you gently with those luminous golden eyes.

Stamping down your excitement was difficult despite your exhaustion. There was something Xiao was keeping under wraps, you could tell- he was just a bit unravelled, just the tiniest bit. Lips parted in slight anticipation, pupils dilated like a parakeets.

You look at one another across the table and he abruptly blinks and rises up, taking the dishes with him. Putting them in the sink, he turns to you slowly. You hear the dog bark at something outside, the clatter of her claws across the pavement but it feels as though she’s on land, with you underwater. When did Xiao get so close?

Your breath leaves you as his talon tipped fingers gently cradle your face, stroke your cheek. He laces his fingers with yours and brings them to his mouth for a kiss.

“Do you wish to rest?” He asks gently. As if he didn’t just rob you of your ability to form coherent sentences. “I had some presents prepared for you, but it’ll be morning soon. You ought to rest.”

Aha. So that was what he wanted to show you. He looks so shy at the mention of gifts- long eyelashes lowered, lips pressed together that you can’t resist beaming and landing a soft kiss on his cheek. He exhales.

“I want to see them now.”

He sighs, but he’s smiling, too. “Very well.”

He gestures for you to walk on ahead to your room and you do, sprinting across the hallway, invigorated at the prospect of- what.

Your bed is laden with presents.

It looks almost like an offering table- there are flowers interspersed among the gifts- an exquisite bottle of perfume is the first to catch your eye and you excitedly hold it to your nose. It smells like your favourite flowers. You turn to beam at him and he turns away, pink eared, and gestures to the rest.

There’s a coffin keychain (huh?), a fat finch carving the size of your face (you’ll cherish and protect that thing with your life), multiple small, velvety boxes with glass covers (you nearly scream. Is that the Mingxing jewellery crest? How expensive was this?) and something covered by a soft square of fabric, right in the centre.

It’s a feast for the eyes, you giddily think, taking everything in. You’ll definitely need to have a talk with Xiao about the expense- good lord, that ear cuff is embedded with three different jewels- but for now, you heart is so full you feel it’ll burst at the seems. And as you lift up the cloth to uncover what’s beneath, you’re very certain you’ll weep if you’re not too careful.

It's a box, made perhaps of wood, standing on elegant coral legs. With gems or resin or more coral, you can’t tell- there's a picture composed upon it, with you clinging to the side of a mountain before it, and Xiao right behind, holding out his fingers to receive what you hand to him. There’s the sunset too, behind both of you- a gorgeous mess of pink, white and scarlet, gold rays streaking across it, from the setting sun into the lavender dusk beyond.

It’s a bit roughly hewn, but it’s beautiful, and it’s yours.

It’s the day you really talked to one another for the first time, the start of something so precious to you that even the mere thought of losing it makes your heart physically ache.

You really are going to cry.

Turning to Xiao, you see the soft, anxious look in his eyes as he tries to gauge your reaction. He parts his lips to say something, but stops to let you go first. You shake your head and ask him to speak.

“I… am aware of it not being the best of presents.” (You wonder if he smacked his head into something today.) “It is… a box.” He coughs, glancing away, then faces you again and now you truly are in danger of bawling, with the way he’s looking at you. You bite your tongue and blink rapidly. Xiao gives you a rueful smile as he continues.

“I thought for a long time, but couldn’t fathom what you’d want most. I did not know what would constitute as a good present- but I remembered… when we first talked for length. Your unpaid commission. I’m grateful to Baizhu, for falling ill… I could never have dreamed myself capable of feeling such joy. Because of you.

“I just…” he trails off, eyes widening as the tears slip past your lashes, down your cheeks (traitors, they’re making such a fuss). He’s before you in an instant, cupping your face, drawing you closer, forehead pressed to yours. “I wanted to give you something to put your treasures in, where they could be safe. And I wanted to remind you… I will appear, no matter the circumstances, the moment you call for me.”

Your chest hurts.

“And,” he whispers, “if your burdens grow too heavy, simply turn around. Place them in my hands. I will carry them until you can once more. Just as you have done for me.”

And all you can do, really, is tell him you love him, clinging to his shoulders, wrapping him in a giant embrace. He jumps, then laugh, large wings and slender arms wrapping around you.

It’s morning by the time you finally fall asleep, presents on one side of your bed and you on the other, after listening to Xiao recount his day at the harbour. You snicker at his conversation with the Boss, laugh when you hear of Hu Tao’s shenanigans, cackle hysterically when he shakes his head in embarrassment and tells you of his time spent with Ying’er and Yelan.

But when he tells you of his conversation with Ping and Yanfei, eyes softening, wings tightening around you- of the time he spent bringing the box into being, with their help and his very own hands- you can’t help but get teary eyed once more. Wrapping your fingers around his, you bring them to your mouth to kiss every fingertip, each kiss interspersed with a whispered “I love you,” that he returns with a quiet, fervent murmur of his own.

As you both begin to doze off in one another’s arms, you hear finches in the distance, awakening before even the dawn. You trace your fingers over his face, gently, gently and kiss his cheek.

You wish you could articulate what he means to you- and what his efforts meant to you.

His presents were nothing in the face of his company, and his company nothing in the face of his happiness.

More than anything, your heart is full at the thought of Xiao- free of his duties for even just a day, meeting with friends to contrive a present for you. That he spent time with them, amused himself with their shenanigans, fell prey to their mischief. That he had a mundane day at the harbour.

By Morax, you love him. Perhaps next week you’ll clear out your schedule, and ask him to take you with him on another.

#xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #x reader #xiao x gn reader #gn reader #xiao #for you #fluff #xiao fluff #iratempestatis #other characters mentioned as well #i love writing xiao w his friends sm lmao #genshin x reader

177 notes · View notes

thewertsearch · 1 month ago

Text

Anonymous asked: just read through your entire liveblog and wow. what a place to catch up. do you have any predictions about what the postscratch versions of the guardians will be? what about the guardian versions of the kids?

So.

Mom Lalonde, Grandpa Harley, Nanna Egbert, and Bro Strider, reborn as the story's protagonists, and thrust into a Playerdom I never expected them to bear. The consequences of this reveal are likely to kick in on the very next page - and since that's a page I'm clicking on tonight, this is my last chance for some blind speculation.

There are an absolute mountain of angles I could potentially cover here, and it's impossible to address all the implications of this twist, so I'm just going to touch on a few key questions that Act 6 will need to answer sooner rather than later.

Without further ado, let's dive into our first question.

Who, exactly, is raising these kids?

The simplest solution, of course, would be a one-to-one exchange between each Player and their Guardian. That certainly seems to be the case for Jade and Grandpa, who have been directly swapped. This would imply that Rose raised Mom, Dave raised Bro, and John might have raised Nanna. (More on that later.)

Still, that's not the only possibility. There's no reason why Dave couldn't raise the adolescent Mom instead, for example, with Rose adopting the younger Bro in his stead. That particular configuration has a lot of character potential, actually, because Bro Lalonde would undoubtedly be an unholy terror, and Mom Strider might just be one of the coolest characters I've ever conceived of.

This aesthetic, with those shades? Come on.

...all that said, though, I'm fairly sure we are just getting a one-to-one swap. That's how it appears to have worked for the trolls, and the one post-Scratch Player with a confirmed Guardian already matches this pattern.

Plus, swapping the kids with their own parents is just so interesting, on a character level, as it'd add a whole new dimension of analysis to the fucked-up relationships between Bro & Dave, Mom & Rose, and Grandpa & Jade.

Seeing how they all treat each other, now that the roles have been reversed, would be incredibly illuminating, and might shed some light on the thought processes of the pre-Scratched Guardians, as they were raising their own respective charges.

Anyway - now that we've got that out of the way, let's talk about each individual family.

The Egberts

Astute readers will notice that I only mentioned the Guardian-Player parallels for three of our Players above - and that's because when it comes to the fourth, there's a slight complication.

Namely, Dad Egbert no longer exists.

This means that Nanna's home life can't parallel John's, because the man who raised John was never even born. It's possible, then, that John will simply raise Nanna himself, as her grandfather.

Honestly, that's the scenario I'm hoping for, here. Out of our four original Players, I think that John would be the best parent by far - he's sweet, resilient, and has a natural talent for nurturing the positive qualities of the people he loves. If a baby lands in his backyard, he's going to rise to the challenge, octogenarianism be damned.

...now, here's where I'd speculate a little about Nanna's personality, but she's the one post-Scratch Player I can't really get a bead on. We only ever interacted with her Spritesona, whose personality was obviously corrupted by the presence of the jester doll.

As a result, I don't really have a clue what Nanna will be like. The only thing I'm sure about, if John's the one raising her, is that she'll be loved.

The Striders

First of all, I have faith in Dave.

I think he's more or less guaranteed to be a better Guardian than his brother ever was. Granted, I don't think Dave would be particularly paternal, but I also think he'll be able to refrain from beating Bro's ass with a puppet, which is progress.

I think Dave would be a laissez-faire type of guardian, who allows the younger Bro a lot more agency and autonomy than other kids his age, but also struggles to be the adult in the room when his kid needs guidance. He's not going to be as traumatized as his younger self, but I bet it's still borderline impossible to have a serious conversation with him. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Kid Bro turned out to be the more mature of the pair.

In a nutshell, Dave was born to be a cool uncle, but was forced unwittingly into a parental role instead. He's doing his best.

Quite frankly, I'm very worried about Kid Bro.

If we assume that every Paradox Clone keeps the same Veil item as last time - and there's no reason why they wouldn't - then Bro will be coming down with Lil' Cal, the cursed puppet created by Gamzee's Chucklevoodoos.

I'm still convinced that long-term exposure to this abomination was the main reason Bro was so batshit insane, and while the younger Bro won't have been around it for quite as long, he'll still have thirteen years of an evil Juggalo's Rage miasma being beamed into his brain.

I think Kid Bro will be a little batshit, but not completely batshit. We'll see a child with the potential to become the deranged ventriloquist who tormented Dave, but one who can still be saved, if we can just get that hell puppet away from him.

Separated from Cal, I still think Bro will be a memelord, and I'm sure not all his interests came from the puppet. I think this guy was always destined to be a pretty bizarre dude - but with luck, this iteration of him will be a little more pleasant to be around.

The Lalondes

Rose... could go either way, honestly.

Just like Dave, I don't think she's the type who'd willingly choose to be a parent. Rose doesn't want a baby, she wants a library full of cursed tomes, a coven of witches to scheme with, and to live in an enormous gothic castle with her wife, Kanaya Maryam. Her ideal lifestyle couldn't handle a kid, and I think she's self-aware enough to know that, and adopt a hundred mutant kittens instead.

That said... if she had to raise a daughter, I think she'd try her best to do right by the girl. I think some part of her would absolutely resent the fact that she's a background character in someone else's life - especially if, like the Sufferer, she remembers being a Player - but she'd do everything she could to keep that resentment to herself.

Rose would be an alright mother. A little cold, maybe, and more than a little distant, but she'd still love her Roxy.

As for Roxy, I can only assume she's a gigantic fucking badass. Even among the Guardians, her barehanded combat feats were always astounding, and I think she and Kid Bro will be the primary combatants of their session.

I also think she'll be one of the most analytical, scientifically-minded Players we've ever seen. Her adult self was experimenting with Ectobiology even outside of Sburb, which suggests to me an intense curiosity about how all this shit works, which isn't present in most of our other heroes. Like Rose, she'll be a researcher, and maybe even a Seer - but while Rose searched for the truth via magic and mysticism, Roxy's research will be entirely scientific.

Honestly, the most exciting thing about finally meeting Roxy is the milestone it'll represent. I'll finally, finally have encountered every character I knew about prior to starting the comic.

The Harleys

Grandma Jade was still the Witch of Space, and was clearly aware of that fact.

This tells us that:

John, Rose and Dave also retained their Titles, even if they don't know it.

Grandma Jade was probably aware of Sburb and its secrets, especially if she was living near the Frog Temple.

Grandma Jade was the Witch of Space. She's gone.

...and I have a theory about what happened to her.

I think that when Grandpa was a baby, Jade travelled to Anachronism Island, just like her predecessor did - but this time around, it wasn't Bec who greeted her at the Temple.

No, I think Jade had a fatal encounter with the new First Guardian of Earth - a corrupted First Guardian, spliced with the same HONK code that created Scratch. Kid Grandpa clearly survived whatever happened next, and I think it's horribly plausible that the new First Guardian is a pseudo-Guardian to him, the same way Becquerel was to Jade.

In other words, this kid might be completely compromised, manipulated by English's servant since infancy. Let's not forget that he's the one who suggested making the bunny to Jade, which is the reason Jack was able to ascend in the first place...

...but someone suggested it to him, first.

Anyway, those are my high-level thoughts about the new timeline's key players. We'll be starting Act 6 in an hour or so, and I've got a feeling that we're about to see Nanna standing in a very familiar room.

After all, it just so happens that today...

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #asks #theories

177 notes · View notes

thatfrenchacademic · 2 years ago

Note

"The biggest issue is students using it, me spotting it and having no recourse whatsoever to do anything about it." can you elaborate a bit further

Hello !

So to explain a bit more: we [aka your lecturers, teachers, teaching assistants, etc...] know that some students will use ChatGPT.

And there is a discussion to be had about how to work with this, how to design assessment which allow students to leverage something which may simply become a fixture of writing in a workplace environment, but that is not the discussion we are having here. Because that is not what we are worried about.

The defensible, problematic situation is: a student straight up entering the essay prompt on ChatGPT, and using the grand skills of Ctrl+C / Ctrl+V, submits it as their own paper.

And our main worry, I think, was for a long time that we would not be able to catch it. That students would, actually, be able to fool us and that we would actually think this was a student who understood the course, who put in the work, and who deserve to be rewarded for their grade. That was the main fear.

But here is the thing.

And listen up, students :

Essays written by ChatGPT :

Suck

Are spotted from a mile away from the person reading it

For real. They suck.

I cannot stress enough how easy they are to spot. You are NOT fooling anyone. I do not need the platform's AI-detecting tool to know when an essay was written by Chat GPT. It is so, very painfully obvious when that's the case.

But the problem then becomes : ok, I have spotted a student who cheated.

What am I even supposed to do with it.

It is one thing to KNOW that an essay was AI-generated, it is another to defend it to a plagiarism committee. First of all, does it actually count as plagiarism ? Second, how do prove, with certainty, that the student did not write it ? How to I convince the plagiarism committee that this is worth looking into ? I am in the role of a police officer, who needs to convince the DA that this is a winnable case, that prosecuting will not be a waste of their time. But I don't have a Similarity Percentage to rely on. I don't have an original source to say "look, this is the exact same wording!" like in a classic plagiarism case.

Best case scenario, I can make my case for thee student to actually be called to the plagiarism committee, where we probe into how, exactly, they wrote their essay, until they fold. Unlikely, morally questionable, and in all likelihood, ineffective on students already so confident in their bullshit that they have the audacity to submit a fully AI-generated work for their finals.

Now, students, gather up, especially if you have considered using Chat GPT this way. Because right now, you might think it means you can get away with it.

But let me tell you something. First, that essay is getting the shittiest grade we can give you. Because you know what is more difficult than a lecturer proving that a student used AI to generate their essay ? A student proving that they deserve a better grade. Once we give you a grade, burden of evidence is on you to prove that you have not been graded properly. And we can come up with 15 reasons why an essay is a shit essay. We put on kids' gloves, when we lecture and give feedback. We give the simplified version of most theories, we give the basics of how to structure an essay, the bar we set is spectacularly low, because students come in good faith, they are learning, they will not be held at the same standard as academics. But if you try to argue that you need a higher grade, when you had the audacity to not write a single word of your work, the kids gloves are going to come off real quick, and your lecturer will be able to very convincingly explain why, actually, giving you a passing grade was a mercy in the first place.

Second. Academics, especially angry academics, are a gossip machine.

You may get a passing grade, and there may be no official note of it in your file whatsoever. But I can guarantee you that your lecturer will chat with their colleagues. That every single one of your essay that year, and the years to come, will be looked at with so much scrutiny I hope your referencing for every single work reaches perfection. Every single paragraph will be looked at with the knowledge that you are likely to have had it AI-generated. Lecturers will tell their TA to look at for That One Student when they grade you .You will not be getting any flexibility from us, no extension without full documentation to support it, no letter of recommendation from any member of the faculty, no word in your favor if you are bordering a grade bracket. If we are feeling especially petty, we might even forget to answer your emails or answer any question you have with such warmth and kindness you really still never feel like asking a question again in our class. And I know that, because that's already happening. I have the name of three undergrads that we know, for a fact, did not write their own essay. Two are not even in my modules at all.

Now. That's pretty mean. But if you have the absolute audacity and lack of ethics required to submit an essay for which you have not written a single word, and thought it would actually work, when your lecturer spent probably more that 80 hours working in this module this term, gave you the opportunity to meet for office hours, to ask any question in person or in email, to have extensions, accommodations, additional time ? When you decided that putting exactly zero second of your time, considered that you were above that - and above other students- and yet we were not able to officially sanction you for it, we had to give you a passing grade, the same passing grade as students who actually made an effort?

Yeah, sorry, you are not getting any sympathy from your lecturers anymore.

#studyblr #phdblr #university #adventures in teaching #postgradblr #chatgpt #ask me thing #now I am going back to grading #actually

4K notes · View notes

toriaanin · 26 days ago

Text

The Skelton Crew

Once upon a time, there was a ship called the USS Lukola. She was a sleek vessel cruising a warm ocean - blue like a certain Irish lass's eyes - and filled with people like me who witnessed and believed in the love, light and energy shone by Nicola and Luke during (heck... even prior to) the Bridgerton season 3 world PR tour.

Unbeknownst to us passengers, the USS Lukola left charted waters and entered the Bermuda Triangle. BaBaBam (imagine ominous music here). Waves started crashing against the hull and over the deck. The ship's navigation equipment failed; the dials on the bridge panel spin spin spinning in counter clockwise, clockwise directions, like in the movies. Eeek! North, south, east, west? What direction was the ship headed?! Not to worry; the crew and passengers knew where they were going - breadcrumbs and morsels led the way, while heavy golden nuggets like the Claddagh ring & the This/That video 🤍 gave the ship ballast to withstand the storm... but they also knew that patience - and sea legs - were required to see them to their destination.

Naturally some passengers didn't have faith that the ship could reach it's destination so they jumped, relying on life vests for survival. In many cases, life boats were deployed (on more than one occasion) taking passengers to shore where they now look out over the water and wishing they'd remained aboard. Some even return. They're welcomed back of course.

And then there's the group that sent an SOS out to an old battleship. They wanted a tough ship. Not just because they imagined it could better withstand the waves, but because they'd shifted alliances and expected push-back from the USS Lukola. Problem! Their new alliance painted a rainbow flag on their hull. "That's okay", they told themselves. "We can't see it from the deck!" (Fingers in ears, eyes squeezed shut all while singing "lalala"). Rather then face reality and head to shore to join those passengers gazing longingly at the USS Lukola, they decided that sinking that darned happy-people ship was the ideal strategy to "win" the best ship prize. So they proceeded to employ battle tactics against the USS Lukola and, as it would happen, Lukola themselves. Most notably Luke.

So we came into Monday, battle worn following a weekend of presumed troll activity, redirection (because really, Ceasefire in Gaza is far more important to focus on! And also because one does not ignore N's patterns), and the fandom's descent onto the TT account of a sad, misguided young woman seeking social media attention and validation. Challenging for us, yes. Even more so for the Newton family.

Naturally, a few more life boats left the USS Lukola over the weekend too. Sigh. Sad to see them go.

And yet, the USS Lukola sails on!

I was telling a friend about how it feels like Lukolas are being winnowed like grain, the wind or a combine shaking our group to remove the chaff. She laughed and suggested a more appropriate ship reference: "What's remaining is the Skeleton Crew!". YES! That was exactly the right description for us!!!

Those of us who remain on the ship are the hearty diehards. We are the ones who belong to group chats, with friends to help support us during rough seas. Amongst our boney selves are the critical thinkers and analysts. We listen only to Nicola, Luke and their trusted allies. Then there are the creatives; those who develop scenarios based solely on the information provided by the critical thinkers and analysts. There are the bloggers here on Tumblr that relay information and theories, and then help us rib cages to hold on tight. I love that we're a fine collective of beautiful bones, supporting one another as we sail towards endgame. Love. We are The Skelton Crew!

Ahoy matey; there be treasure way!!

Proof of our ability to assess information, of our resilience as crew/passengers (not sure about you, but my chat groups are capital S supportive!), and our belief in Luke & Nicola's love came yesterday when that slag-rag DeuxMoi posted photos of Nicola & Jake buying carrots... and trolling the paparazzi. They spotted that photographer, devised a plan, laughed and totally goofed around for each photo!

Did we spiral? Maybe a little at first. Like I said, it was a difficult weekend and we didn't want more mayhem. Then we looked closer and started to laugh! Just like Nicola & Jake, we hammed it up in the ballroom, in the bar's lounge, and on the lido deck!

No, we don't want to have to weather another storm. But we will if we have to. We have each other and we're hardy souls! Well... skeletons! These bones were made for dancing! ☠☠☠

#lukola

207 notes · View notes

cozymochi · 3 months ago

Note

If you don't mind oc questions, how does Nyoka, Emilio and Cecil feel about the prefect?

Do they see MC as a nuisance? Or someone interesting for managing to deal with 4 overblots? Excluding Jamil, Vil, and Malleus since it wasn't public to the entire school and since book 7 isn't finished yet

I ACCEPT OC QUESTIONS!!! they keep me from dwelling on doom :’) 💖 I know I answered something similar to this before but I’m going to use this to do better since this is non-specific (my old answer sucked anyway since I was unprepared). For simplicities, sake I’m going to disregard all OBs since the general Prefects involvement with them is barely addressed in a diegetic way to begin with outside of Book 3. So that’s a non-factor going forward.

——

Across all three boys I think they probably find the Prefect/MC to be a nuisance. But mostly framed under that “NRC great-mages-in-training with huge egos” finding the fact that a human with NO magic gets to be a student there (with Grim) for #reasons to be kind of insulting. It’s just a territorial and pride thing common for majority of the students there. These three aren’t exempt from that. But, they do act out in different ways.

Since Emilio is so shameless, Emilio will take any potshot to undermine the Prefect’s status, accomplishments (if any) and their popularity, even is this popularity is more so “infamy” than anything else (which it is). They are in the same grade level, so encounters are more frequent. I think he probably sees a bit of himself in the Prefect, and ends up projecting onto them more than he should. He’ll probably warm up eventually though depending on how development goes, but it will not be an easy task, assuming this Prefect is a general good faith person. And yes, he would apologize and take every moment to atone for his behavior if they ever became friends.

Cecil, despite his own issues, would rather ignore the Prefect and generally wants nothing to do with them. I don’t think he’d be mean like Emilio, just a little snarky if they crossed paths. But he’s just naturally pretty snarky despite his bumbling nature. He wouldn’t do anything though. He doesn’t know it yet but it’s not really in him to be all that mean. He does know that Housewarden Malleus regards the Prefect highly, but can’t understand why. If the Prefect were to an extend a friendly hand first towards Cecil and remain persistent (persistence is key), then Cecil would eventually come around tenfold. I think a Prefect friendship would do Cecil some good. Maybe even improve his magical performance even— who knows 👍

Nyoka sees the Prefect as prey. A mouse, even. That is food. However, in general Nyoka doesn’t regard the Prefect at all and would rather ignore them. This is pretty easy to do since they wouldn’t be too likely to cross paths. If they did though, in a non-confrontational way provided they keep a respectful distance, he would be deferential and civil. On paper this sounds good, but this is not exactly a warm scenario. Rule of thumb is to just not engage. If they did somehow frequently cross paths and a Prefect were to remain respectful of his space (and perhaps engage with his interests) then maybe that civility would become genuine. He might find the idea of a predator becoming slightly chummy with prey a little amusing, in its own way.

lol like how I spun this into “BUT WHAT IF FRIENDS???” Scenario

THANKS BYE

(OH right. @servamp01 )

#cozy ask #my art #twstposting #twst oc #ERRRM OKAY LETS TAG SOME BOYS #Emilio estrada alvarez #cecil mugwort #nyoka wadjet #twst grim #starring grim as the placeholder #flop hall of fame

175 notes · View notes

acoazlove · 3 months ago

Text

Spiralling Inside

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Spiralling into your head is damaging, and there’s only one person who can help you.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: a little bit of angst, fluff

─────────────────────────

Loneliness isn’t a feeling the soul is supposed to feel, to experience.

It’s isolating, whether it's self-inflicted or out of one's control, it can break you. It feels like no one can save you from that feeling. How do you know that someone will help you out of the feeling, and stop you from spiralling all over again?

You don’t know. That’s the scary part, you’re supposed to have faith. Trust wholeheartedly in someone that they won't make you feel like that ever again.

The kind of trust you’re supposed to have with yourself. So what happens when you can’t even trust your own brain from thinking of all the worst scenarios? Make you think that everyone hates you. That you’re not worthy of loving friendships. You are not good enough. They are only around you because they pity you.

They hate me. A common thought for an overthinker, a hurt person. No one wants those words swirling around their head.

Even while talking one-on-one with someone, a friend, it feels as if your mind is making you feel like they are only interacting with you because they feel bad for you. Like they know how lonely you are.

A larger event is even worse because you are alone. Everyone has someone to talk to, to be with. Someone to call their own. You don’t.

The same people who call you family are the ones who seem to forget you’re standing beside them, because ‘you are so quiet.’ Why say something if it doesn't add to the current topic? So you keep quiet, keep to yourself.

Not one person notices when you spiral when you get so deep in your mind that you can’t claw your way out. Can’t silence those voices. Except for one person.

Azriel. Your person. Your other half. Your mate. And while standing in the middle of the Night Court’s ballroom, with your family, talking to each other, he notices.

You suppose that’s one of the upsides to him being the spymaster. He notices you. He sees you.

“Angel?” His soft voice reaches your ears before he appears in front of you. Blocking your view of the rest of the world. So it's just him.

A scarred but gentle hand reaches for yours, subtly pulling out of the crowded room. You only notice you have moved when a cooling breeze brushing your face. Azriel’s hands are on you next, cupping your face so gently that an on-looker might think he is holding the most precious jewels.

“My love?” You finally meet his gaze, his swirling jade and amber eyes. Holding his emotions out on a silver platter for you. Only for you.

He watches your brows pinching, silver lining your eyes, features twisting in guilt and sadness. “I’m sorry.” The defeat in your voice physically pains him. His features softening, thumbs swiping the tears that fall unwanted.

“No. You have nothing to be sorry for.” The conviction in his dulcet voice helps to slowly pull you from your self-deprecating shell. An arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace, his other hand moves to the back of your head, cradling you to the crook of his neck, smothering you in his scent. Your arms wrap around him quickly, so tight as if you’re worried he’d disappear. And based on where your thoughts are right now, your mind thinks he very well might.

The scent that helps ground you. A fact you had told him early on in your relationship, even before you mated. A fact he kept in the very forefront of his mind for moments exactly like these.

Deep breaths tickle his throat. Breathe in as much of him as you can. If only you could fuse with him. You wouldn’t ever have to be away from him.

A calloused hand runs through your hair soothingly. His other hand rubbed up and down your back, in the way he found helped calm you the most. Pressing featherlight kisses to your forehead and temple. Whispering sweet nothings into your skin.

“What happened, angel?” Feeling the rumble of his words as he speaks, vibrating into your own form. You shrug in response. “Just got in my head.” Words muffled against his neck.

You pull away from his neck, a huff leaving you at how much of your hair is in your face from the movement. A watery laugh leaves you as Azriel tries to push it out of your face. A loving smile tugs at his lips at the endearing sound.

Once it's out of the way, you look up at your mate through wet lashes. Your cheeks flushed and tear-stained. “There she is.” His voice is so adoring it makes your heart skip a beat. His hazel gaze searches your face, looking for what, you don’t know.

“I’m fine, Az. I just-“A heavy sigh leaves you as you try to verbalise your thoughts. “I just started thinking too much when they turned away from me, which I know sounds self-conceited and narcissistic but-“ your rambling gets cut off by Azriel’s mouth meeting yours. Releasing a contented sigh as you sink into the kiss. So full of love and feelings that can’t be put into words.

He pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his hands cupping your face once again. “I know you, my love. You are the most selfless, intelligent, and kindhearted person I have ever met. And yes your brain works against you sometimes, but that does not make you self-conceited or narcissistic. You cannot beat yourself up over something you can’t control.” He presses a featherlight kiss to the tip of your nose. “They all love you. Don’t let your mind tell you otherwise. They are around you because they want to be.”

You feel your bottom lip tremble under the weight of his words. “I love you. More than anything, more than what should be possible. You’re my mate.” A kiss to your forehead “My other half.” Another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I love you, my angel.” A lingering kiss to your lips.

Your hands slide up his arms to rest on top of his wrists. Only pulling away when air is needed. Turning your head to brush a kiss to the palm of his hand. Pulling his hand from your face to thread your own with them.

”I love you with my whole being Azriel. More than you’ll ever know.” Voice raspy from your tears, but so sincere a smile pulls at his lips. Pressing one more kiss to the crown of your head before taking a single step back to get a proper look at you.

”Do you want to go back in there, or go home?” Tone still gentle. A small shake of your head. “We should go back in.” He nods, moving to step back towards the ballroom. But a tug of his hand stops him, immediately looking for something wrong in your expression, but a smirk tugs at your lips. “How does my makeup look?”

A snort leaves him, and he brushes a thumb under your eye before leaning back dramatically to get a better view, a giggle leaving you at the movement, a boyish grin taking over his face at the sound. “Looks perfect. Just like you, my love.” Wrapping an arm around your waist, leading you towards where you left the rest of your family.

As they come back in view, smiles light up their faces, but your focus is pulled back up to the male at your side. He smiles down at you as Mor and Feyre start gossiping about something they had heard from one of the courtiers.

Leaning into your mate's warmth as you listen to their rambling. You know you’ll be just fine as long as you have Azriel by your side.

─────────────────────────

a/n: I know this isn't part five for a new place, but I've personally been over thinking quite a lot recently, and once i started writing this it just kept flowing. so this is dedicated to all my overthinkers. hoped you enjoyed <3

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x reader fluff #azriel fluff #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar x reader #acotar

342 notes · View notes

moonchild9350 · 8 months ago

Text

Sign The Dotted Line (Chapter One)

Series Summary: You are an ordinary person, working an ordinary job, nothing too special until you come across an ad for an application to become the new company assignment girlfriend of Lee Minho. You take the chance to apply and what happens next changes your life forever.

Pairing: idol Minho x fab reader

Genre (series as a whole): fluff, angst, smut-18+ MDNI

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings (this chapter): none

Notes: Welcome to the Sign the Dotted Line series! I'm super excited to release the first chapter! Don't worry, Minho makes an appearance but it'll be much later in the chapters.

New Chapters will be released on Saturdays at 1pm CST.

If you'd like to join the tag list (for this series or general) let me know! (age must be in bio or pinned to be added).

If you like this fic, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :)

Next | Series Masterlist

You remember exactly where you were the day you got the email, what you were doing, how it felt outside. You remember exactly how you were feeling the day your life changed forever.

“Hmmm what should I wear to tonight?” You asked your friend Lexi. You were having a tough time picking out an outfit, both you and your friend planning to go out tonight. You both had a tough week at work, deadlines were approaching to secure a major deal and tensions were high. Now it was Friday, Lexi suggesting you both go out to take your minds off work. Of course you agreed, needing any type of distraction you could get.

“Wear that crop top with your leather skirt,” Lexi said, pulling out the clothes from your closet.

You took the outfit, agreeing with her choice. Slipping it on, you stopped in front of the mirror, making sure everything was in place. Lexi made her way to you, phone in hand.

“Selfie time!” Lexi shouted, you covering your ears at her outburst. You giggled and posed, Lexi taking multiple pictures of the two of you. Lexi’s phone dinged, notifying her that the ride share was here. You grabbed your phone and bag and followed your friend out the door, walking to and sliding into the car.

The night was filled with fun. You both danced the night away, work completely forgotten. You did have a drink or two…or four, your head fuzzy but not enough to not know where you were or make a fool of yourself. Your feet were started to hurt, the combination of hours of non-stop dancing and heels taking its toll on your poor feet. You both decided to finish dancing to the song playing and then leave.

Lexi ordered another ride share, both of you waiting outside. The fresh air was refreshing, a slight breeze blowing to cool you off. You browsed your phone, clearing out your notifications. As you were waiting, you visited your favorite band Stray Kids website, looking for any new updates. There was one new notice, asking for applications to be considered to become Lee Minho’s girlfriend. You blinked your eyes once, twice, and then read the notice again, in disbelief at the ad. This was a prank. Yes, most definitely a prank played by the company.

Tapping Lexi’s shoulder, you showed her the ad. “What?! Is this real?” She shrieked.

“Looks like it,” you said, a frown on your face. You loved Minho, he was your bias after all. How cool would it be to become his girlfriend? It’s not like you haven’t imagined this exact scenario in your dreams.

Lexi was scrolling through the notice before handing you back your phone. “You need to apply!” She said while winking at you.

“Hell no!” You said. “I’d never be picked. I mean look at me! Why would THE Lee Minho want to date me?”

“Because you’re hot as fuck,” Lexi responded laughing. “It won’t hurt. Worst case scenario is you’d never hear back from them.”

You considered your friend’s statement. She was right. Why not take the leap of faith and apply. It would be a dream come true after all. “Ok, I’ll do it,” you said right as the ride share pulled up.

“That’s my girl,” Lexi said getting in the car before you. You looked out the window the whole ride back to your place, thinking about what you were about to do. Once inside, you changed into some more comfy clothes and slipped into bed, Lexi following suit as she was staying over. You pulled up the notice once more, reading it over.

“What is it asking for?” Lexi asked, leaning over your shoulder to get a closer look.

“Besides basic information like name, birthday, they want to know my occupation, family history, of course where I live, and a background check. They’re asking more information too. It’s like they want my whole life story,” you said nervously chuckling.

“Well makes sense doesn’t it?” Lexi said yawning. “They have to make sure whoever they pick isn’t a pyscho.”

It did make sense. I’m sure they only wanted the best for Minho. Someone who could withstand dating an idol, but also probably for Minho’s safety too. You started filling out the information they wanted, hoping even just a little that you would be considered. It took you a little over an hour to finish the application in its entirety. You let out a breath after submitting the application. You looked over at Lexi to let her know you were done, but noticed she was passed out, little snores coming from her mouth as she slept.

You set your phone on its charger and turned out the lights, settling in for the night. There’s no way they would choose you let alone consider you. Right?

You felt something hit your nose again and again. You scrunched up your nose, eyes fluttering open to identify what had disturbed you from your slumber…or more so who had disturbed you. You opened your eyes to see Lexi hovering above you, booping your nose with her finger.

“Wake up,” she said as she kept booping your nose.

“Ok, ok I’m up. “ you groaned, swiping her hand away and rubbing your eyes. You sat up in bed, letting out a yawn. Lexi handed you a cup of coffee fixed exactly how you liked it. You graciously grabbed the cup, taking a sip before cradling it in your hands.

“So, did you submit the application? Am I looking at the girlfriend of Lee Minho?” She asked smirking.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m not going to be Minho’s girlfriend. There’s so many other people out there that would be better for him.”

Lexi scoffed, “please, you’d be perfect for him. Don’t put yourself down.”

You just shrugged, getting out of bed to get ready for the day. After getting dressed, you took your cup and went to sit in the living room. You checked your email, looking for any word from the company. You were trying not to get your hopes up. There’s no way they would choose you. Not in a million years.

The rest of the weekend passed, your days spent at home relaxing, and preparing yourself for another hell week at work. You hated this job with a passion, sitting at your desk all day, discussing projects and sitting in meetings. You wanted to quit, but the pay was great, allowing you to live in a decent area in town. But if someone offered you another position, you would take it in a heart beat, getting away from the constant stress and toxic workplace.

The beginning of the week came and went by quickly, your days spent at work, just to come home, eat, and pass out from exhaustion. You only had to get through one more day and then you were off. You had been checking your email daily, multiple times per day at that, looking to see if you had any emails in regard to the little application you submitted over the weekend. Each time you checked however, your hopes were squashed, your email only being filled with spam.

You made dinner, and sat in the couch propping your feet up. You let out a sigh before digging in. You went back to your phone, scrolling through social media. After eating, you sat down your plate and settled in to watch tv. The night went on, you dozing off after a hard day.

You woke up with a start, looking around to see where you were before realizing you were safe at home. Rubbing your eyes, you got up from the couch and walked to your bedroom and got into bed. you checked your phone before setting it down for the night and noticed you had a new email. The title was in Korean and your breath hitched a little. Clicking on the email, you held your breath as you read the words in front of you.

They wanted to interview you tomorrow if possible before advancing you further in the process. Looking at the time they requested would be right toward the end of your work day. You’d have to step away for the video chat. You were more than happy to do so. You replied with a yes and set your phone down, closing your eyes to sleep and dream of the possibilities in your future .

The next morning, Lexi stopped by, coffee in hand so you could go to work together. You were giddy, practically bouncing on your feet, as you scampered through your apartment to finish getting ready for work. Your friend noticed something was up. You were never this happy to go to work or this happy in the morning period.

“Ok, what gives? Why are you so happy?” Your friend asked you, watching as you turned away to hide your face. You continued fixing your lunch, a smile on your face.

“So I checked my email last night before bed and um I got an email from the company asking to do a video interview today. “ you continued to prep your lunch, waiting for your friend’s reaction.

“Holy shit really?” She said, clapping her hands in excitement. “See I told you! You’re a catch, I knew they’d be interested.” You turned to face Lexi, a huge grin on your face.

“What time is the interview?”

“8am Korea time so 6pm our time. I’ll be working late today, so I’ll have to find somewhere to sit for the interview.”

Lexi nodded, “well you could always use the conference room. It’ll be empty by then.”

You shook your head in agreement. Making sure you had all your stuff for the day, you looked at friend and said, “ready?”

Lexi sighed, “no not really, but don’t have a choice do I?”

You grinned, grabbing your keys, “nope!”

Work was hell per usual, your day filled with answering calls and working on projections. You were stressed, every client you dealt with today must have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, because everyone was pissy. But, the hours dragged on, the office buzzing as everyone worked on their various projects.

It was getting closer to 6pm so you grabbed your laptop and pulled up the video invite, making sure everything was ready for when the time comes. Satisfied, you picked up the laptop and made your way to the conference room, shutting the door behind you. You took a seat and made sure everything looked ok around you as well as made sure your outfit was fixed, wanting to make a good impression. At least you could look good if nothing else.

You logged in and waited for whoever to enter the meeting room. At exactly 6pm, someone popped up on screen. She was really pretty, long black hair cascading down past her shoulders, with light makeup on to accentuate her features. She smiled at you before speaking in Korean. Shit, you thought, you didn’t know anything in Korean besides hello and I love you.

You felt stupid as you politely stopped her before saying, “Im sorry, I don’t speak Korean.”

She looked taken aback for a moment. Great, you thought. She’s probably thinking why would you apply for this if you couldn’t even speak the language. You felt your face getting hot, embarrassed at this setback. However, the woman just smiled and apologized, this time in English. You let out a breath, happy that she didn’t think you were crazy…at least she didn’t show it.

Despite the little hiccup in the beginning, the rest of the interview went well. She asked you a ton of questions about yourself and your personality. She also inquired about your job and asked about details for that. You felt exposed, sharing things that even your best friend would most likely not know. She also asked you how you deal with pressure, which you answered to the best of your ability. You had some experience with how to deal with pressure in your current job, so it was helpful when you came up with a response for her. She also ran through scenarios with you, such as what would you do if people spoke not so kindly about you online or what would you do if paparazzi came up to you and started asking questions about Stray Kids. Of course you had no experience with this type of situation, so you just came up with the best answer you could, answering as truthfully as you could.

For over an hour, you sat there and answered question after question. At the end of the interview, she informed you they would run a thorough background check on you and would notify you if they want you to proceed. You thanked her for her time and said goodbye, shutting your laptop and leaning back in your chair. You took a deep breath and let it out, happy that was over with. That was more nerve wracking than the interview you had for your current job.

You gathered your stuff and exited the conference room, making your way back to your cubicle. Lexi was sitting in your chair waiting for you, no doubt ready to ask you how the interview went. You shook your head indicating not here and packed up your stuff to go home. Lexi got the hint and nodded, leaving to go pack her stuff up as well. You both left the building, making your way to the subway.

After walking a while you told Lexi all that occurred during the interview, how you were asked lots of questions and what she told you before ending the call.

“Whew, that’s a lot y/n. I get it though. She has to know your whole life story if you’re going to go on to date an idol.”

You nodded, agreeing with your friend. You secretly hoped you would get to the next step, but only time would tell. You parted ways with Lexi once you got to your stop, saying goodbye. You were happy it was the weekend as you were more than ready to do nothing and just rot on the couch.

Once back home, you got ready for bed, snuggling into your blankets, happy to be home. You closed your eyes and dreamed of sweet dates with a man, holding hands while walking down the street, going on picnics with him. The man was Minho, your mind already keen on the idea of dating him. You slept soundly that night, content with your dreams.

The weekend passed quickly, as they often do. It was Sunday night once again, and you were cleaning up your apartment, when you got a notification on your phone. You picked up your phone to check it, thinking it was probably Lexi, but you noticed it was a new email. You opened up the notification, quickly skimming over the contents of said email. What you read made you drop the towel you were holding. You read and then reread the email.

They picked you. You were to be Minho’s girlfriend. You were in shock, but also super happy. You did a little dance around your apartment, too happy to stay still. After a mini celebration, you called Lexi to share the good news. She was ecstatic for you, joining in on your celebration.

“So what’s next? What do you have to do?” Lexi asked once you both calmed down some.

“It looks like I have to fly out to Korea in 2 weeks to officially start my role…” your voice fading out with the realization how soon that would be. You would have to put your notice in for your job tomorrow and start packing up your stuff. It was definitely going to be a busy two weeks.

“Well you know I’ll help you. Damn, that means you’ll be in a whole other country.” Lexi said. “I’ll miss my bestie.”

“I’ll miss you too! But we can always talk and video chat!”

Lexi agreed, “you better!”

You chatted with your friend for a little longer before hanging up to get ready for bed. It was a normal workday tomorrow after all. You could hardly sleep though that night, your brain stuck on the fact that your life was about to drastically change in the next few weeks.

The day had arrived for your flight to Korea. Lexi went with you to the airport to see you off. You gave her a big hug. You were going to miss your friend, but would try to fly her out so she could visit once you were settled.

“Let me know when you land ok?” Lexi said. Her eyes were glossy and you could tell she was trying not to cry. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“Me too,” you said, trying not to cry yourself.

Right then, an announcement overhead announced that your flight would be boarding soon. You sighed, giving your friend one last big hug, before grabbing your bags and walking to the gate to board. Once your ticket was scanned, you looked at your friend once more and gave her a wave before walking down ramp to get to the plane. This is it. You were really going to Korea to date an idol. You settled in your seat for a long flight.

You slept most of the way, exhaustion from the last few days catching up to you. You had landed a while ago and had retrieved your suitcase. You made your way outside, looking for the company car that had been sent to fetch you. Locating the car, you slid in looking out the window at the unfamiliar city around you. It was busy, the workday having just started.

The car brought you to the company building, pulling up to the curb. The driver got out to help you out of the car. You thanked the man before walking through the front door. You showed your email to the security guard at the front desk. He nodded and made a call, presumably to the manager of Stray Kids. He motioned for you to sit, which you did.

A few minutes later, the same woman who interviewed you walked toward you, extending her hand out to shake yours.

“Y/n,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you in person. Was your flight ok?”

“Nice to meet you,” you responded. “It was a nice flight, thank you.”

She smiled at you before gesturing toward the elevators. “Shall we?”

You nodded and grabbed your bag before following her to the elevators. She punched the number five and stepped back, the both of you standing in silence as the elevator ascended. Once on the floor, she motioned for you to follow her.

“So you can drop your stuff in my office. We’ll go over some logistics. Have you look over and sign the contract and then you can meet Minho.”

You were taking in the halls around you, while trying to listen. “Ok, sounds good,” you said. You both came to a door, before she pushed it open, allowing you to step into the room first. She pointed to a chair in front of a desk. You took a seat and waited for her to speak. She briefed you on your role, which was to be the company appointed girlfriend to Lee Minho, one of the members to Stray Kids. You were to serve your role for a minimum of two years and at that time the contract could be extended or terminated. She went over some other things as well, before handing you the contract to sign.

You took the paper and pen she handed to you, took a deep breath and signed your name on the line. It was official, you were Minho’s girlfriend….at least on paper.

“Well are you ready to meet Minho?” She asked you.

You swallowed before meekly saying yes, your nerves getting the best of you. What if you made a fool of yourself? What if he laughed at you and thought you a joke? Your mind went through a million questions, not noticing that the manager had left.

A few minutes later, she walked back into the office, a man in tow. He had on gray sweat pants and a white t-shirt on. In all his glory, Minho stood before you. You were speechless.

The manager looked between you two before saying, “Minho this is y/n. She will be your company appointed girlfriend. I’ll leave you for a moment to get acquainted.”

You watched as she walked out the door, softly closing it behind her. You looked from the door to Minho, his eyes trained on you and…was that a scowl? He didn’t look happy to see you, but that couldn’t be it right? He didn’t know you enough to hate you right?

Taking a breath, you decided to suck it up and introduce yourself. “Hi Minho, I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you! I hope we’ll get along well.” You said with a smile on your face. Minho just looked at you, his eyes hardened. The man was glaring at you and it was making you uncomfortable. You had no clue what to do or say. Despite this, you were not prepared for the words that would come out of his mouth as he continued to glare at you.

“I don’t need you, you should go back home.”

You watched as he turned on his heels and walked out the door, leaving you standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

Well shit, you thought. This is going to be fun….not.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @thesilvernight0wl @armystay89