#you could have been the most powerful mage

[andhumanslovedstories]

I'll play the 500-word ask game! Your Tortall fanfic, please - I was thinking of this segment, but really anything you want to comment on in the fic! (Also thank you for writing it; the voice works very well and the text feels very true-to-source!)

Kel may never have forgiven the king for putting her through a probation period—a life’s first major disappointment cuts deep and leaves a scar—but her issues to him as a man did not blind her to his success as a king. “He’s formed alliances with the Bazhir, the Yamani, and Tusaine for the first time in our history. He controls the Dominion Jewel, the most powerful mage in the world is loyal to him, and our training school produces the finest knights in the world.”

Don’t forget our excellent spy operations,” Alanna added. “But people’s memories get short, especially in times of hardship. A short war unites a nation; a long one wearies it. And our war with Scanra has lasted far longer than we expected, even after your contribution.”

Kel grimaced. It was true. Even after Kel had slain the creator of the Scanran war machines, the forces of King Maggur fought bitterly for every inch of land. They had no reasonable hope of winning, not with Scanra’s weak harvest and weaker tribal alliances, but they were determined to make Tortall’s victory costly. They’d turned to guerilla tactics in the mountainous border region between the two nations, and they were willing to lay down their lives for every square inch.

Still, the gaudiness of the Midwinter’s Festival felt tasteless to Kel, a slap in the face to the soldiers who died and the ones who were still there fighting in the bleakest of conditions. “If everyone could put some trust in each other and go without the things they don’t need, we could redirect all this wealth to ending the war.”

“If people could trust each other and go without, we wouldn’t be fighting this war. We’d be living in some happy utopia that would be very boring for people like you and me.”

Oh my god, I wrote this Tortall fic in 2011. Sometimes the passage of time just hits. Especially because of the time I remember Kel has always been my favorite of Pierce's leads. It would be difficult to overstate the impact Kel as a character has had on me over the years. I wrote this fic in October 2011--that was during my first semester of college, when I was 18 years old. I'd brought The Protector of the Small books with me to college for emotional support. There was a hurricane on the east coast during our freshman orientation that knocked out the power in my dorm. I remember reading all four books by a window while it was raining like crazy, and then thinking ruefully that I should have saved them for later when I needed a pick me up.

That makes it an extra pleasant surprise when I reread it and really liked it! (I even had the very odd feeling of being inspired by my own ending.) I remembered the broad strokes of it--Kel and Alanna talking at a banquet while on the lookout for Tortall's second openly female page--and absolutely none of the details. I can't believe the only relationship tag I had in there was Kel/Dom. I'll be honest, I don't even really remember who Dom is. I went back and added Kel & Alanna as the main relationship because, like, duh. Yeah.

It's doubly weird to me I tagged the barely mentioned romantic pairing considering the story was written for a livejournal community challenge to specific write gen fic about women outside of the context of romance and shipping. This was a weird transition time in fandom where lj communities were still very prominent, but more and more fic was getting posted on AO3 instead of in a community or on a personal journal. I remember some debate about what female characters counted for femgenficathon (the community/challenge I wrote this for). It might have been a debate about trans women, but I remember more specifically discussions of whether genderswapped male characters counted.

Anyway, back to this fic specifically, it's funny the author's note is me talking about the difficulties of writing fanfic for a book because I want to match the author's style when that's something that I've been thinking about a lot lately writing for Scum Villain. What I remember most about this fic is specifically the work I put in studying Tamora Pierce's writing style so I could ape it. A sentence early--"Her closest tablemate, a small but sturdy red-headed woman Kel regarded with equal parts affection and awe, chuckled at Kel’s distress."--is the direct result of me studying Pierce's first paragraphs in her work to see how she reintroduces the reader to characters they have met before. There's also a simplicity and directness to the language that isn't my default. I can get pretty flowery. In my default state, I love a paragraph long metaphor.

These two women have this shared experience but also could not be more different. When I was a kid, I really wanted Alanna and Kel to be best friends, and I was disappointed when they weren't, but I understood why. They are very different people, almost in different genres. Alanna and Kel are two very different takes on the lady knight. Having to pretend to be a boy versus openly being a girl leads to such different dynamics. Alanna's story is so much about identity and self-definition, but also about being extraordinary. She's gifted with magic, she's touched by the goddess, she has a magic cat. She's a fantasy heroine. She's indisputably extraordinary.

Kel meanwhile has no magic. Her story emphasizes continual, endless practice, discipline, training. Her adventures are human-sized. Alanna's book one ends with defeating magical monsters in a cursed city. Kel's involves helping a bunch of other pages fight off bandits. She doesn't deal with gods; she gets put in charge of a refuge camp. Her story involves a lot of practical logistics in a way Alanna's doesn't. So she ends up being this character that's such a mix of realism and idealism, seeing the world the way it could and should be while also seeing the work and frustration of getting there. That was what made her such a huge inspiration to me as a kid--god, between her and Tiffany Aching, I have gotten so much from the tales of hard working girls.

That's why Kel in this fic looks to everyday and mundane examples of female fighters. Because she works so close to the ground, she appreciates the grassroots. I thought that hit a good balance of her faith in the future without making it sound like she thought gender equality would be easy. Actually, to be honest, I got...comforted, I guess, by my own ending. (Again, a very pleasant surprise.) Kel's hope always feels earned. That's what I was aiming for.

[raayllum]

The Relic Staff Meta, Arc 2 Edition

Because I thought too long about implication, history, and acquirement / symbolism, and here we are, apparently. Let's goo

What we learned

We learned a decent amount about the relic staff in arc 2, as follows:

It is known as the Staff of Ziard (4x03) and he was presumably the first human / human (dark) mage to wield it

The staff originally belonged to Aaravos, and Ibis (+ archdragons and co.) know this (4x03): "If you seek to return that staff to its true owner..."

The staff itself comes from the Starscraper, and is part of a matched set of 8, with its one still missing (6x04).

According to Kpp'Ar and his worldview, something with the staff is wrong / dangerous enough that it must never be used again (6x06), though we don't know why. He also, presumably, was unable to find a way to destroy it.

The staff, for 1000+ years, had a quasar diamond concealed inside of it with an illusion spell (6x09). What happened to the 'original' gemstone it was supposed to have is unknown.

The staff was merged with Claudia's Sun staff, taking the corrupted primal sun stone successfully into itself (7x01).

We know that the staff was important and powerful during the Mage Wars (7x03) with seemingly being at the centre of the struggle for magical power amid the mage warlords.

Even without the quasar diamond, the staff's metal itself has special properties, as Callum was able to successfully begin casting the soul imprisonment spell (7x09). While the quasar diamond no doubt helped given the staff special properties and amplify spells, it was not required nor the only way for it to work (seemingly; we may find out later that Callum's spell was not / is not going to be able to work).

The implication that's driving me the most insane is this one, wherein we see Laurelion with a weapon that has a very similar design to the staff's opened face:

It's not a perfect match up, but it's semi close, and closer than what we've traditionally seen human or elven styled weapons match up design wise with the staff. We know at this time (3,000 years ago, before humans' acquirement of primal or dark magic) that humans were apt enough that they could forge weapons such as the Nova Blade from Shiruakh's fang, and presumably the scale armour as well. We don't know why, but there could be a multitude of reasons. It doesn't seem like Aaravos' quest for revenge had begun yet given that we don't know if Leola was born, let alone already killed.

Now that we got all the lore under our belt, let's talk about the symbolism of the staff within character arcs and character relationships.

Line of Succession

The known line of succession goes as follows:

Ziard

Countless generations / mages

Unnamed high mage of Katolis

Unnamed female high mage of Katolis (Kpp'Ar's predecessor)

Kpp'Ar

Viren

Claudia

Callum

And, hesitantly, I want to add the Jailer as the beginning of the High Mage of Katolis line holding onto it. Kpp'Ar and the Jailer's commonalities have been remarked upon before by many due to their penchant for puzzles (the Puzzle House / "The puzzle is the real prison, she told me with a proud smile") and both being human mages. We don't know if the Jailer was a human or a primal mage, but we do know that she and the Orphan Queen lived around the same time; that the Orphan Queen founded Ezran and Harrow's royal line; and that she held onto the Key of Aaravos. It is possible, therefore, at the Jailer took the Staff of Ziard along with it for safekeeping.

With all that in mind, let's talk about Kpp'Ar.

Kpp'Ar

What does the staff represent in Kpp'Ar's life? Well, for starters, we know that Kpp'Ar received the staff from his predecessor, who presumably chose and trained him as the high mage. We know he had other students, with Viren being the "most eager" and possibly best in order to inherit his position when King Atticus was still king. It is unclear if Kpp'Ar had already retired from being high mage and then from magic itself, or if those things were simultaneous, but they seem to be in close proximity timeline wise regardless. Either way, Kpp'Ar made the choice to resign and to not give the staff to Viren, stating "It is not an entitlement of the office."

We learn in the Book 2 novelization and 7x02 that Kpp'Ar gave up dark magic and sought to destroy all his old tools. Viren also says this directly in 6x06:

The game motif in TDP has consistently referred to Aaravos throughout the show, in lines such as "What game are you playing at?" (2x08), "We had to beat Aaravos at his own game" (4x04), the cube ("This is the game room. Cube should be in there [...] it's a toy, a piece from a children's game" in 1x04, etc), and his collection of pawns. It is unsurprising, then, that it would eventually come for 'his' staff.

The staff belonging to a collection of relics also makes sense. For example, we know thanks to 6x06 (and possibly with the coin spell as well) that there are ancient spells written down that label the staff among its specific set of ingredients, whether as a conduit or adding something that is needed in particular, or both:

VIREN: I found a creative solution. I suppose I should call it what it is: dark magic. But to do the spell, I needed something that belonged to my mentor, Kpp'Ar. I needed his staff. (6x06)

So we can piece together a bit of a timeline. Kpp'Ar inherited the staff when he took over as High Mage. And despite being in his possession for years, we never see him use it on screen, nor is it a replacement for his cane. At some point in his time as High Mage, Kpp'Ar discovered a terrible truth about the staff. This likely played into his choice to resign as High Mage and hold onto the staff rather than pass it onto Viren as was custom, if not traditional of the office. However, whatever truth about the staff is not so terrible that Kpp'Ar believes telling Viren would change his apprentice's mind.

Kpp'Ar is then imprisoned by his own staff, which feels... thematically loaded, I suppose. It's not like he's the first to 'die' over it; plenty likely did during the Mage Wars, and Ibis was literally impaled with it. However, in much the same way Viren's "original sin" in the show was not hesitating to sacrifice others while hesitating to sacrifice himself (culminating, as predicted, in the opposite choice in 6x08)... Kpp'Ar's arc seems similarly bundled up with the staff in a way that isn't yet quite true for any other character. Part of this is because we know so little about Kpp'Ar as a character that the staff just inevitably ends up feeling more prominent, but also because he staked quite possibly the most important claim of his life on not using it, and the subsequent fallout had consequences.

Kpp'Ar's arc with the staff is also currently not 'closed,' unlike his apprentice. So onto the next (or the previous) mage to wield it:

Viren (and Ziard)

I'm putting these two together because they arguably open and close the same story in what is one of the show's most succinct turns of the Cycle across the whole series.

Ziard, as mentioned, is the person who becomes synonymous with the staff, as it is known as his staff, whereas the Key (although related) is known explicitly as Aaravos'. For whatever reason, Aaravos did not want the staff to be as easily related to him as the Cube, likely because the former was related to dark magic, and the latter was primal magic (which the current archdragons he was cozying up to and manipulating wouldn't have batted an eye at).

I'd also speculated in the past that Ziard was being set up by Aaravos in 3x01, used to provoke Sol Regem for... whatever reason. Given how his death mirrors Viren, who is set up by Aaravos in numerous ways (Aaravos wanted to kill Viren to keep him from swaying Claudia, and his dead would give her an incentive to invert the Moon Nexus to check the In-Between) it seems that this is more and more likely. Why set Ziard up, we don't entirely know. It seems like he was the leader of Elarion's dark mages ("you and your followers") and that Aaravos' involvement wasn't immediately known. He was smart enough to step away and let Ziard take the fall, literally, with even his involvement with the staff being shrouded in mystery.

Viren, meanwhile, has more awareness of the shadier side of Aaravos' involvement (although not all of it) even if he has comparatively less understanding about the history and uses of the staff. Additionally, Viren is probably the mage we associate most with the staff, however. His arc 1 design directly emulates it with the purple chest gemstone, he carries it near constantly in his possession, and he's its sole user. Even in season 4 up through his final scene in season 6, the staff is his ("You left your staff... my staff" / "I must face my truth") with the first time he used it to coin Kpp'Ar, and then to save Soren.

Either way, Ziard and Viren's last stand with the staff are used to keep a city from being destroyed / people from dying. While Viren used the staff previously to complete a few spells, however, he did not use it beyond the Zym consumption spell (the one Ziard used with the birds) to play into Aaravos' hands. Part of this is because despite having it on his person, Viren doesn't use the staff that often, and part of it is because other instances (such as 3x07's hearts of cinder amplification) were clearly Aaravos playing the long > short game in wanting to corrupt the Sun Forge, even if getting the Sunfire elves involved is one of the main reasons they lost the Battle of the Storm Spire.

We know that even Viren's heroism did end up fitting Aaravos' plans, however, given the smirk he shares through Pharos after Viren's demise.

You wanted this outcome. His death creates opportunity for you. (1x05)

What we can glean from this is that, thus far, it seems that there has been no use of the Staff of Ziard that hasn't been exactly what Aaravos wanted, even when seemingly 'stopping' him in the process... and that goes for Callum, too. But first, in keeping with the line of succession, let's talk about Claudia.

Claudia

Claudia is kind of the odd mage out, in terms of the staff. She's the only one to not be a high mage (assuming that's what the Jailer became) even though the occupational line has subsequently been important. Outside of the Jailer, she's the only other woman. Her journey with claiming the staff also zigzags.

Part of this is because she mirrors Viren with the sun staff. Aaravos gifts it to Viren, who uses it (and the Staff of Ziard) once, and then he never uses the the sun staff again. Instead, it becomes Claudia's weapon of choice, and she is the only one to use it throughout S3-S6 post-3x07. However, Claudia's alignment with the Staff of Ziard is still always clear.

And it seems like Claudia in season 4 is being pushed harder into her father's role with the staff as a metaphor. She's far more active, battling Ibis for it and driving the group up the mountain even when Viren wants to do something else. Viren refuses it twice, telling her to hold onto it much to her surprise and chagrin, and then Claudia steps up to do the spell that her father refuses, highlighting her power and expertise. It seems that everything is in place for the staff to become hers...

and then no, it's not.

Viren picks it up, does dark magic again, and falls into a coma induced nightmare hell. His younger self never carries the staff in front of the mirror also connected to Aaravos, and the staff isn't used in any real manner the whole season. He rejects the Blood of Child spell, which presumably needs the staff (which tracks like, unfortunately well) and abandons it on the beach. Claudia uses it in the interim, but still uses her sun staff as a literal and metaphorical crutch, and we see the Staff of Ziard's associations begin to shift.

In 1x01, the staff was a symbol of evil and untrustworthiness. In 3x01, we see it could be used for heroic deeds, just as in 3x09 we see it can be used for evil. While Kpp'Ar complicates the 3x01 readings further, he's chronologically much later. Beforehand, in S4, the staff represents who is going to help Aaravos and continue walking further down the path of his pawn, down to Viren being in the intro, not Claudia. And seemingly, that's what Viren takes accountability for in 6x01.

His vision zooms in on the staff lying in a pool of SS's blood, and he rejects Claudia's plan to free Aaravos outright, citing instead:

Which very easily could transform the staff into a more positive symbol. It represents truth, and as Viren clarifies, "The path of truth is the path of freedom" from 'the path of fate' and 'the dark path' he regrets leading Claudia on, as it took both of them into Aaravos' clutches; into pain, blood, sacrifice, and suffering. We subsequently have two readings we can look at, then:

Viren takes the staff, a negative symbol, purposefully away from Claudia, hopefully freeing her up to make better choices. This is more in line with their back-and-forth in season 4.

Viren takes the staff, now turned into a positive symbol, inadvertently away from Claudia, reflecting how she's doomed to continue being a pawn of Aaravos.

I don't think either reading symbolically is more true than another, but the second one does seem to be more in line with the staff's usage in S6, given that immediately after this episode, we get our first Claudia pawn intro.

This is especially true since Claudia is unable to let go of Viren, and instead seeks him out to find her "deep truth," and we know that not all truths are good ("this is a deep, dark truth" / "a burden"). She finds her father's body and staff lying side by side, and takes them both to the Valley of the Graves, and Aaravos uses both of them — the diamond inside the staff, and Claudia's love for Viren ("Aaravos did what was necessary. Like my dad") — to convince her to set him free.

That said:

A Quick Sun Staff Tangent

I think to better understand what the Staff of Ziard represents to Claudia, we have to look at what the Sun Staff does, first. Claudia receives the sun staff off screen from her father in between 3x07 and 3x09, and she wields it ever since. There's not too much symbolism beyond it being a corrupted light, which is like ridiculously on the nose. It also contributes to Claudia's continued association with the Sun arcanum and fire (1x04 with lighting the pyre; 3x07 with the fire dragon's horn; and eventually getting the scale armour of Shiruakh, to the point she can breathe fire).

It's only in season 6 that we get a bit more symbolism with it, specifically in 6x03 and 6x04:

So the sun staff represents dark magic, it seems, and she drops it when she runs to embrace Terry, even if that part of their arc hasn't entirely panned out yet. The corrupted light is corrupting her life, and she looks to one of her lights (Terry) for direction of what to do. He doesn't really give it, and so she follows yet again in her father's footsteps, just as she did in going up the Storm Spire, to go back to Katolis.

It's also worth noting that the sun staff is what allows Viren to corrupt the soldiers in 3x07, and Claudia states, "Maybe he's just doing what needs to be done," even if you can tell she's also somewhat convincing herself of that fact. We can take this one step further, then.

Say the sun staff represents dark magic and falsehood, two things that Aaravos utilizes and what Claudia has been left behind in twice now (once by Soren, once by Viren). This posits the Staff of Ziard as the Truth, her path, and goes beyond dark magic.

In season 7, Claudia is no longer turned to stone by dark magic. She's no longer turned to stone at all, instead standing happily in the careful curve of Aaravos' palm. Under the "Staff of Ziard" is the Truth reading, it's unsurprising therefore that the show has her finally claim ownership over it after she's received Aaravos' truth, and right before her former friends/loved ones are about to deceive her.

Claudia compares Aaravos to her father, and then grows to see him as another father. To her, unlike Viren, Aaravos gives her 'the whole truth' and the she takes complete ownership over Aaravos' staff. Over Aaravos' truth.

Because by the mid-point of season 7, the Staff of Ziard has come to represent Aaravos' Truth. His truth, his path, his staff, his version of freedom ("I helped humanity mature, so they could be free").

However — just as the previous form of the staff with a literally hidden by an illusion quasar diamond was its own form of deception, wielded by Ziard and Viren respectively — this version of the staff, of the truth is still not the complete truth. Aaravos loves Claudia but is using her and has lied to / manipulated her repeatedly. He took the corrupted light of the sun staff — the falsehood of necessity and dark magic — and transplanted it into his staff. Stapled it onto his Truth to sell to whoever would buy it.

With all this in mind, let's talk about

Callum

One of the 'weirdest' moments in the season, per Claudia's oddness in the succession line with the Staff of Ziard, comes down to Claudia finally stating its hers... and then she loses it an episode later, and doesn't even seem to care. She tosses it into the water and makes no show of trying to get it back at any point, even when both Runaan and Callum have to avert their eyes, and even when she's given the opportunity to attack Runaan and/or Callum in 7x09. She chooses the assassin, not the one with the staff—her staff.

Or is it, now?

One of the most important tenets about Callum's series' long arc with dark magic is the way it, and himself, is constantly dogged by both Viren and Claudia's actions. His ability to do dark magic or the circumstances he does it within are usually contingent on one or both of them. He does dark magic because Claudia creates the circumstances for it and steals her book and ingredients; he does dark magic in 5x08 because Finnegrin wants to know what spell Viren used to slay the Dragon King; he uses the snake slithering spell twice because Claudia showed him how; he holds onto the cursed coin even without knowing Aaravos is out in case he might need it, and uses Viren's spell against his own enemy.

He acquires the Staff of Ziard, corrupted sun primal and all, because Claudia leaves it for him on Purpose.

He takes the staff, which is literally now representative of Viren (the original and high mage), Claudia (the corrupted sun primal), and Aaravos onto his shoulders, narratively speaking.

There's also two main levels of symbolism in Callum's acquirement of the staff, and I'd like to go each of them.

The first is most obvious, with Callum taking Rayla's "reflection in the water" motif from arc 1 and utilizing it to great effect in S7, including but not limited to also conversing with another reflection of himself (dark!Callum) an episode prior.

This motif tracks his fear, determination to abstain, and then awareness and acceptance of what he's undertaking and committing to. The fact that it is also linked and shown through water, which is linked to the Ocean arcanum, which is linked to dark magic, is just the cherry on top tbh, and it makes me feel feral.

The other more complicated layer of symbolism is answering the ones we've already built upon. The staff represents the path of freedom. The path of truth. It represents Aaravos' truth. So what is Aaravos' truth, for Callum?

It's not the same one that Claudia acquires, as that one is about Leola, and Callum doesn't know about her (or Terry, or Ezran's nukes) when he picks up the staff. However, Aaravos' dialogue and 7x06 still makes it fairly plain:

CALLUM: I filled the darkness inside me with light. They said I'd be cleansed of dark magic forever. DARK!CALLUM: And you were. You didn't create me with dark magic, Callum. I have always been a part of you. (7x06)

AARAVOS: I have seen generations of humans and elves accept the dark that lurks in all of us beside the light. There is no black or white, only shades of grey. (7x04)

EZRAN: You know, you're very good at telling most of the truth. AARAVOS: Most? What truths have I left out? (7x07)

DARK!CALLUM: I get it, you hate me. But we know the truth, too. That only I can save them all.

AARAVOS: You call it corruption. I call it compromise. It is the nature of children to believe the world must be one way or another. With maturity, we learn that most of life is lived in the space in-between. I merely helped humanity mature, so they could be free.

DARK!CALUM: You were young before. Naive. But you can trust me now. Trust yourself. CALLUM: [...] There must be another way. Another way without you.

CALLUM: No, there's no one else. But there might be another way. (7x07)

AARAVOS: Imprisoned? By whom? Your brother? [Smiles] There is a great affinity between your brother and I. Callum sees the world as I do, understands the need for compromise. Very soon, your brother will embrace dark magic to save those he loves. I have seen it written in his eyes.

Despite having lost his true heart seasons prior (meta here), Callum still has 'growing up' to do as Aaravos would put it. Aaravos thinks that true maturity is acknowledging the need for compromise (corruption); to not think that there is only one way or another, but that ideas and paths can coexist. That you have to accept the truth of who you are, and all parts of yourself.

In 2x07, Callum turned to dark magic to save Rayla without full awareness of the consequences. In 5x08, he knew regardless of whether he did it again or not, he was still tainted, though the experience heavily rattled him. It made him aware that there were depths and parts of himself that he didn't currently understand. In season 6, he was adamant that he didn't have a choice of whether to do dark magic or not.

In season 7, all of that is brought to fruition. Callum accepts the dark that has always been inside him. He knows what he's throwing away, and he knows it's his life after having a clean slate. Rather than saying that Aaravos or anyone else has forced his hand, he acknowledges the opposite:

You'll be imprisoned forever. That's is the destiny I choose. The one I write for myself.

There are no more half truths. Callum stares into the depths of the water — Ocean arcanum — and sees his own corrupted reflection. Yet unlike before in 2x08, he doesn't rear back. Instead, he accepts what's being offered to him, and lifts the staff out of the water. These are the lengths he's willing to go to and in what manner, and they always have been. They always will be.

No choice? Ha! You made the same choice you always made. (5x02)

He will always do whatever needs to be done to save his loved ones, however dangerous, however vile. Even if that means he's corrupted and destroyed; even if that means Rayla no longer loves him, he'll do it so that she can live a long happy life. That is Aaravos' truth for him, and that's what Callum grows into and accepts in S7.

And, in Aaravos' eyes, perhaps by having Callum embrace this Truth, he has set him free. The path of 'freedom' is the path of truth, with Callum's destiny motif being equally compounded in choosing his destiny here being synonymous with choosing dark magic, even though the two were previously primarily opposite.

But just like with Claudia, there's falsehoods in Aaravos' Truth that Callum embraces. Callum's turn towards dark magic wasn't actually necessary, as the Archdragons are able to temporarily defeat Aaravos. Rayla does not forsake or hate him, but continues to love him unconditionally. While Callum was posed to follow Ziard and Virne's paths — sacrificing yourself to save people — this ultimately doesn't come to fruition.

Additionally, the previous occupational implication of the staff being passed down between High Mages has been mucked since Claudia took it. As noted, she was never High Mage, Viren's last usage happens when he hasn't been High Mage for years, Kpp'Ar likewise held onto it post his resignation, and Callum's happens after he resigns from the role as well.

It's unclear if Callum will resume being high mage post season (I personally lean towards no, but who knows?) but it does seem like he will hold onto the staff for similar reasons he hung onto the cursed coin, and the cube, and why Viren didn't destroy the egg in the first place.

DARK!CALLUM: If you're so sure, why did you save it? You're wondering if you might need that cursed coin after all. That if all else fails, you might need me after all. (7x06)

TIADRIN: Why would you destroy it? It could be a powerful weapon. (3x08)

It also means that when we swing back around to the deep lore of the staff — why Kpp'Ar believed it could never be used again; more history on the Mage Wars; what can, if anything, destroy the staff; and its roots in dark magic and Elarion, the latter of which the Key of Aaravos is also definitively connected to — it will all be tethered to Callum's arc as well.

Outside of Kpp'Ar (and even then, he might've) every mage who's taken possession of the Staff of Ziard has fallen into Aaravos' clutches, helped him, and/or carried out his plans.

Here's looking to you, Callum.

Conclusion

Other considerations to takeaway from the Staff and its uses in the show are as follows:

The staff streamlines dark magic's tendency to consume. Even without a quasar diamond, it can drag someone's soul out of their body and put them in a coin or another container, suck in someone's breath, etc. as a conduit.

Spells using the staff that pertain to soul magic seem to default to giving a corrupted face, ie. Viren coining Kpp'Ar, Claudia's blood of child ritual, and what would've happened to Callum had he finished the coin spell

The Archdragons did not know at first that Aaravos was involved with the staff, but found out pre-present day (presumably as a piece of his treachery). This likely also indicated and/or confirmed his involvement with dark magic to them.

It is unknown if the other Starscraper staffs have similar or different properties. We do know they have different coloured gemstones.

It is unknown who forged the staffs and for what purpose. Given that the Nova Blade was forged from a dragon tooth, perhaps the Staff has a similar history. I am willing to bet that rather than humans, First / Startouch elves were more involved, however.

The staff works as a source and amplifier for dark magic spells. It has seemingly never done a deep magic spell on its own that didn't also require or induce dark magic, meaning that dark magic must be innate to it. Whether the staff was made with this in mind, Aaravos modified it to operate this way, or drew on it in developing dark magic outside of using the staff is unknown.

Other misc thoughts:

As of the end of S7, it seems that Aaravos will rely on Callum, not Claudia, as his primary pawn going forward.

When forced to choose between the Sun staff or the relic staff, Aaravos chooses the latter (7x01) and outfits it with the corrupted primal. This is presumably because he wanted Callum to have both.

Callum now carries the Staff of Ziard and its corrupted light and all its implications. The staff that Aaravos makes for himself in 7x09 is subsequently similar in holding a corrupted sun primal in it, just on a much larger scale.

While the line of succession we see in canon hasn't been as directly violent it seems, as in the Mage Wars, the staff has routinely passed hands through violence. Viren betrayed/imprisoned Kpp'Ar; Ibis, another mage, died trying to keep Claudia from taking it; Claudia took the staff from his corpse; and Callum took it after battling Claudia. I think it's unlikely this pattern will break sooner rather than later.

There is very clearly something that Aaravos still needs and wants the staff of Ziard for, though only time will tell its true, ultimate endgame role.

And that's about it, see you in the next one!

[tgrailwar-zero]

*quietly* the water's really nice, isn't it..?

After speaking, he looked in your direction. This was the first time your presence was directly acknowledged.

LANCELOT: "…"

He returned to staring out over the water.

It'd be a lie to call him calm, as much as it was… 'not actively aggressive'. There was a tension in his body that never dropped, like a tightly coiled spring. A sort of 'battle readiness'. You'd seen RICHARD in a similar state when you prepared to fight that giant automaton, but he could turn it 'off'. This was a constant state of 'on'.

He didn't take it.

Seconds dragged on into minutes, minutes into what felt like the better part of an hour. Silence. Quiet. Staring into the deep, blue darkness. Like a statue, the knight gazed into the seemingly endless azure with a look that seemed hollow, but you caught just a hint of… something. Listlessness? Yearning? Somberness?

A 'something'.

Finally, he shifted.

He stood up, and without a word vanished into his spirit form, leaving you alone.

…You weren't sure if that was progress or not. It was really difficult to get a metric on what was 'good' with him. Still, you were allowed in that space, and that certainly wasn't anything to scoff at.

But you were getting a bit tired, and you probably had a busy morning tomorrow, so you returned back to the main camp and found an inn. It was one of the quilted tents that seemed to make up most of the area, though it was well-furnished and absolutely more comfortable than the tent you had in your camping supplies.

PPT exchanged hands, you were given a key to your room, and you went to sleep.

As you slept, you dreamed.

A voice you didn't recognize tickled your mind. It was light and playful, yet deep and wise. A voice that existed in a state of 'contradiction'- or perhaps possessed an inhuman quality that made it difficult to parse as a member of 'humanity'.

Regardless of your opinion or thoughts on that matter, the narrator within this dream began to speak.

-----: 'There was a young boy, born in France. Having lost his parents, he was abandoned and left on his own.'

-----: 'An abandoned child left to the fare on his own certainly would have died. But a fairy took pity on him, and made him her son. The human heart was a complex thing for her, but he at least felt something akin to what humanity called 'love'. There, he learned and grew, received many blessings and cultivated many skills. That boy became a young man, an ideal knight; handsome and brave of heart, but a bit foolhardy as well.'

-----: 'He had heard rumors that across the water, in the land of the Britons, there was a warrior-king that surpassed all others. Who had been trained by the greatest mage in Europe, and who was a brilliant ray of light that protected Britain from all threats.'

-----: 'Certainly, he mused, this was nonsense. He was the perfect warrior, after all. He was blessed with the fae, and his swordsmanship was unmatched.'

-----: 'I am not interested, the arrogant young knight thought as he hopped upon his steed, I am simply going to see if he is worth my time. And so, he traveled from France to Britain, and arrived upon a battlefield.'

-----: 'That rumored great king, riding gallantly upon a steed. His frame small and waifish, his skin fair and unblemished, and yet the way he commanded the battlefield was an image burned into the young knight's mind for the rest of his days.'

-----: 'That young knight, foolhardy and powerful, came to realize then that the ideals of knighthood were more than simply strength. That despite his skill and his might, this King of the Britons possessed something that he lacked.'

-----: 'Certainly, he realized, this is someone that I would follow to the ends of the Earth and call a friend.'

'A… friend?'

Something pierced your brain, hot and sharp, a knife driving itself into your skull. A hiss, inhuman and animalistic, cruel and fanged.

'No. Not a friend.'

'The person I hate.'

'The person I will never forgive.'

'The person I betrayed.'

'As long as she walks within the light, I will remain in the shadow.'

'As long as her name is praised, mine will be cursed.'

'As it should be. As is fate.'

'I am one who extinguishes the light from the bravehearted.'

'I am the one who ruins, and will continue to ruin.'

'And thus--'

You woke up with a start. You weren't sweating, but you felt cold and clammy. You didn't have much long to rest in your disquiet, as a bombastic voice rattled your eardrums.

RICHARD: "Good morrow! Miss Okuni has requested our presence on the beach, so that we may find a vessel! Aren't you excited?"

Aha.

This was a morning person.

And based on the way he was dragging you to your feet, a particularly inconsiderate one.

You were dragged out of your room, and taken down to the beach where it was already bustling with noise, barely having a chance to shake any of the sleep off yourself.

The shore was a lot more lively in the morning. There were a few stalls selling souvenirs, some food carts, and a lot of people milling about. Some looking at carts and stalls, others looking at boats.

Speaking of, there were a few boats that you had seen under the cover of night before, but now were accompanied by various seafarers promoting themselves.

BOAT CAPTAIN: "Come aboard the Sun's Crest! You won't find a finer vessel on the Solar Cell! Guaranteed comfort, favored even by the Pharaoh Cleopatra! 400 PPT per passenger!"

PIRATES: "Hop onto the Fool's Gold! Only 250 PPT each! What a steal! Y'ain't never seen a better crew, I promise ya' that!"

FISHERMAN: "I've got a few more spots on my boat! Just 150 PPT per person! We're slow and steady, but I haven't had a complaint yet!"

FISH-MAN: "Ye can ride on me back fer 10 PPT! One atta time, though! And ye gotta sign y'self a waiver! But I swim real fast, wouldn't ya know it!"

…Everyone was selling a little something, it seemed. OKUNI approached you, hands on her hips.

OKUNI: "Morning! Here comes the tough part. You've got to be assertive with these things… if you dally around and lose a spot, then you get hit with the junkers, but you don't want to get scammed either, so you've got to be careful."

OKUNI: "How about I leave the boat-finding to you? A good performer needs to have an eye for quality, after all."

[some-red-herring]

Decided I'm gonna screenshot any tavern convo that catches my interest and save it, and here's one that just popped up~

[dalishious]

The Sanitized Lore of Dragon Age: The Veilguard

Tevinter is the heart of slavery in Thedas. This lore has been established in every game, novel, comic, and other extended material in the Dragon Age franchise to date that so much as mentions the nation. But in Dragon Age: The Veilguard, when we are finally able to actually visit this location for the first time… this rampant slavery we’ve heard so much about is nowhere to be found. It’s talked about here and there; Neve mentions The Viper has a history of freeing slaves, as does Rook themselves if they choose the Shadow Dragon faction as their origin, for example. But walking down the streets of Minrathous, you’d never know. Because Dragon Age: The Veilguard, for all its enjoyment otherwise, has one glaring issue: It’s too clean.

The world of Thedas is full of injustices. Humans persecute elves, fear qunari, and belittle dwarves. Mages of any race are treated like caged animals in most places. The nobility is corrupt. Although, Dragon Age has not always handled these injustices well, mind you. Many, many times I’ve found myself frustrated with moments that just feel like a Racism Simulator. But what makes it worth it, is when you can actually do something about it. These injustices are things that a good-aligned character strives to fight back against, maybe even for very personal reasons. Part of the power-fantasy for many minorities is that this fight feels tangible. I cannot arrange the assassination of a corrupt politician in real life, but I sure can get Celene Valmont stabbed to death in Dragon Age: Inquisition, for example. Additionally, these fictional injustices can be used to make statements on real life parallels, like any source of media. For example, no, the Chant of Light is not real, but acting as a stand-in for Catholicism, through a media analysis lens we can explore what the Chant of Light communicates on a figurative level.

When starting Dragon Age: The Veilguard and selecting to play as an elf – this should be unsurprising to anyone who is familiar with my bias towards them – I was fully prepared to enter the streets of Minrathous and immediately get called “knife-ear” or “rabbit”. But this did not happen. I thought perhaps it was just a prologue thing, but returning to Minrathous once again, there was not a single shred of disapproval from any NPC I encountered that wasn’t a generic enemy to fight. And even the generic enemies, the Tevinter Nationalist cult of the Venatori, didn’t seem to care at all that I was a lineage they deemed inferior before now. This is a stark difference from entering the Winter Palace in Dragon Age: Inquisition and immediately getting hit with court disapproval and insults. Are we now to believe that Tevinter has somehow solved its astronomical racism and classism problems in the ten years since the past game? Or perhaps are we to believe all the characters who have demonstrated Tevinter’s systemic discriminatory views were just lying or outliers? Because it makes absolutely no sense at all for this horribly corrupt nation to not have a shred of reactivity to an elven or qunari Rook prancing around. But here were are, and not a single NPC even recognizes my character’s lineage. And because this is so different from every single past game, it feels weird.

As an elf, you have the option to make a comment about how “too many humans look down on us” in one scene early in the game. You can also talk to Bellara and Davrin, the elven companions, about concerns that people won’t trust elves after finding out about the big bad Ancient Evanuris… but this is presented as if elves don’t already face persecution. It’s all so limited in scope that it could be all too easily missed if you are not paying very close attention, and coming into the game with pre-existing lore knowledge.

All this made it easy to first assume that the developers simply over-corrected an attempt to address the Racism Simulator moments. And if that was the case, than I would at least give credit to effort; they did not find the right balance, but they at least tried. However, the sudden lack of discrimination against different lineages in Dragon Age: The Veilguard is not the only sanitized example of lore present.

In Dragon Age: Origins, Zevran Arainai is a companion who is from the Antivan Crows; a group of assassins. He discusses in detail how the Crows buy children and raise them into murder machines through all kinds of torture. The World of Thedas books also describe how the Antivan Crows work, echoing what Zevran says and expanding that of the recruitment, only a select handful of those taken by the Crows even survive. When you start Dragon Age: The Veilguard as an Antivan Crow, you immediately unlock a re-used codex entry from the past, “The Crows and Queen Madrigal”, that says the following:

“His guild has a reputation to uphold. They are ruthless, efficient, and discreet. How would they maintain such notoriety if agents routinely revealed the names of employers with something as "banal" as torture.”

Ruthless, efficient, and discreet. Torture is banal. This is what the Crows were before Dragon Age: The Veilguard decided to take them in a very different direction. The Antivan Crows in this latest game are painted as freedom fighters against the Antaam occupation of Treviso. Teia calls the Crows ���patriots”. And while I can certainly believe that the Crows would have enough motivation to fight back against the Antaam, given that it is in direct opposition to their own goals, I cannot understand why they are suddenly suggested to be morally good. They are assassins. They treat their people like tools and murder for money. Even as recent as the Tevinter Nights story Eight Little Talons, it is addressed that the Antivan Crows are in it for the coin and power, with characters like Teia being outliers for wanting to change that. It makes the use of the older codex all the more confusing, as it sets the Antivan Crows up as something they are no longer portrayed as.

I personally think it would have been really interesting to explore a morally corrupt faction in comparison to say, the Shadow Dragons. Perhaps even as a protagonist, address things like the enslavement of “recruits” to make the faction at least somewhat better. (They are still assassins, after all.) Instead, we’re just supposed to ignore everything unsavory about them, I suppose…

We could discuss even further examples. Like how the Lords of Fortune pillage ruins but it’s okay, because they never sell artifacts of cultural importance, supposedly. Or how the only problem with the Templar Order in Tevinter is just the “bad apples” that work with Venatori. I could go on, but I don’t think I have to.

It is because of all this sanitization, that I cannot believe this was simply over-correction on a developmental part. Especially when there is still racism in the game, in other forms. The impression I’m left with feels far deeper than that; it feels corporate. As if a computer ran through the game’s script and got rid of anything with “too much” political substance. The strongest statements are hidden in codex entries, and I almost suspect they had to be snuck in.

Between a Racism Simulator and just ignoring anything bad whatsoever, I believe a balance is achievable; that sweet spot that actually has something to say about what it is presenting. I know it is achievable, because there are a few bright spots of this that I’ve encountered in Dragon Age: The Veilguard too. For example, some of the codex entries like I mentioned, and almost all the content with the Grey Wardens thus far. It is a shame there is not more content on this level.

Dragon Age: The Veilguard is overall still a fun game, in my opinion. But it’s hard to argue that it isn’t missing the grit of its predecessors. The sharp edges have been smoothed. The claws have been removed. The house has been baby-proofed. And for what purpose?

-----

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[pomefioredove]

housewardens + Jamil (separately) with a reader who is their s/o and reader is low-key their simp

like they won't worship the ground they walk on, but they just.. admire..??

like reader and the character will be hanging out, on a date, or in class or something and reader just sighs dreamily and looks at them with a look of like "im the luckiest person alive." because they love them so much

and if caught the reader won't be embarrassed and will just be like "you're so pretty." or "I'm so happy we're dating"

ik it's cringe lol but if I had one of these men as my boyfriend (cough Idia cough) I would literally just admire them so much because I love them so much and they're so freaking pretty

SWEEEEP I love fluff I love a healthy couple

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ abject admiration

summary: close enough. welcome back gomez addams! type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, FLUFFY!, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, established relationship

Riddle used to hate being stared at. it felt like judgment, like he was being put on trial for something he didn't do. as if the world was just... waiting for him to make a mistake so it could punish him. the first time he catches you staring, long before you were together, he almost had your head for it. now, the feeling of your eyes on him has become a comfort, though your words of admiration, your praises and affection, still make him blush

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona couldn't even remember the last time his parents told him they loved him. so when he hears it from you, his first instinct is to push you away. he thinks it's justified; you must want something, I mean, who would be so nice to him for no reason?

well, you. you would

he'd never admit it, but these days, he goes out of his way to do nice things for you, to make himself look and smell good, just to get more of your praises

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"you're so beautiful" and Azul crumbles. as cunning as he is, you could have him eating out of the palm of your hand if you really wanted to. he considers himself a fortunate soul, because all you ask for in return is his time and affection

your compliments are better than any deal, your voice more melodious than any song. the very thought that you think he is pretty... him, of all people... well, you could bring him to his knees with a word

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

fawning over Kalim is absolutely impossible. he's not competitive by nature, but what you give him, he gives back ten times over. one kiss turns into ten, two gifts into twenty, and, of course, one praise turns into an entire soliloquy. you're lucky to have him? he's luckier than the richest man in the world, the most powerful mage, he insists even the Sorcerer of the Sands himself would fall to his knees and weep if he were to see your beauty. you're his sun, his moon, and his stars, and he never lets you forget it

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jamil had never been in love, let alone in a relationship, before you. you're his first everything... and that means you're his first admirer, too. honestly, he's not really sure whether to believe you or not at first. "I'm so happy we're dating," surely, you're not talking about him...?

but you are. he can't even fathom why, but you are

...sometimes, it's better not to question everything

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil gets his fair share of compliments, and rightfully so. he's put in the work, he deserves the recognition. and, for Seven's sake, Rook is his vice housewarden- he can't escape compliments

but... somehow, they're so much different coming from you. maybe it's the way you say things, soft and gentle and full of admiration, maybe it's your voice, or maybe it's just because it's you. because he knows that when you say you're happy with him, you mean him, not the brand, not the image, not what he's expected to be. just... him. it's true love

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia.exe has stopped working

even after months of dating, you still manage to catch him off guard with your "cringe couple stuff", as he calls it. it's... very distracting. you'll be mid-game, staring at him, and when he asks if you hit your head on the way in, you'll say something like "just thinking about how pretty you are" and his brain will short circuit. it's too bad he can't patch that... he'd love to respond without melting into an Idia-shaped puddle

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

being head over heels for Malleus is both a blessing and a curse. on one hand, he'll reciprocate that energy. on the other hand, he'll reciprocate that energy. even a simple "you look nice today" sends him over the moon with joy, and he will unapologetically cling to your side like the needy thing he is for the rest of the day, glaring at anyone who dares to take your attention off of him for more than twelve seconds. but, hey, you know what you like. you agreed to date him in the first place, after all

[misswynters]

Royal Harbinger

featuring. ekko x princess! reader

Hailing from the Grand Kirzean Empire, you were a princess. The only one wielding the blood technomagic abilities. Having such powerful abilities yet you are one of the most sweetest person, ekko has ever bet.

Glittering starlight pierced through the thick smog that veiled Zaun, casting faint halos of silver over the jagged metal and broken cobblestone streets. Neon lights pulsed faintly from signs above cluttered alleyways, their buzzing hum blending into the mechanical symphony of the Undercity. Amid the chaos, there stood a figure who seemed so out of place it was almost comical—wrapped in delicate silks and adorned with intricate, glowing lines of red that shimmered faintly with every step.

You, a princess of the a Grand Empire, wielder of forbidden blood technomagic, and to Ekko, someone who had no business wandering these parts.

Perched atop a railing on one of Zaun’s crumbling platforms, Ekko crossed his arms as he watched you. At first glance, you were every bit the image of innocence. That soft smile you offered the street urchins as you handed them what little supplies you’d brought from above. The way your delicate hands caressed the head of a stray Zaunite mutt, soothing its bony frame. Your voice, lilting like a melody, apologizing for taking up space in an already-crowded alley.

It didn’t make sense.

“Hey,” Ekko called from above, leaping down to land lightly on his feet a few steps away from you. “What are you doing here? This place isn’t exactly royal palace material, Princess.”

Your head turned, the faint light catching your gentle features. “Oh, Hi Ekko! I was just… exploring.”

“Exploring?” He raised an eyebrow, his tone carrying an edge of disbelief. “Kirze’s finest blood mage is just out here sightseeing?”

The smile on your lips didn’t falter, though your fingers twitched at the mention of blood magic. “I needed to see this place for myself. You’ve told me so much about Zaun… I couldn’t stay away.”

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, glancing around. “Zaun isn’t exactly a tourist spot. Especially for someone like you. People see those glowing lines on your arms? They’ll think you’re carrying something valuable and won’t ask before taking it.”

You tilted your head, the light in your eyes curious rather than offended. “Is that why you’ve been following me for the past hour?”

His composure faltered, and he scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe.”

“That’s sweet of you,” you said softly, your gaze dropping to the cobblestones. “But you don’t have to protect me, Ekko. I can handle myself.”

“Yeah, sure,” he scoffed. “Handle yourself like when that drunk guy in the bar tried to grab your hand last week, and you just smiled at him like he was your best friend?”

Your laugh was soft. “I didn’t want to cause a scene.”

“You’re too nice,” he muttered, running a hand down his face. “You’re in Zaun now. Being nice gets you hurt.”

But even as he said it, something about your presence made the buzzing tension in his chest loosen. Maybe it was the way you didn’t flinch at the harshness of his words, or the way your kindness didn’t feel forced. It wasn’t fake or performative—it just was.

Before he could say more, a low growl rumbled from a nearby alley. Ekko tensed, his hand instinctively reaching for the bat strapped to his back. Two figures emerged from the shadows, their faces obscured by bandanas, their postures predatory.

“See?” Ekko muttered, stepping in front of you. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

The larger of the two men chuckled, his voice gravelly. “A couple of lost little birds, eh? Let’s see what you’re hidin'.”

Ekko’s grip tightened on his bat, his stance shifting. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Oh, well we do,” the smaller man sneered, pulling a knife from his belt.

Before Ekko could spring into action, a faint crimson glow bathed the alley. The air grew heavy, almost suffocating, as the markings on your skin flared to life. The metallic scent of blood hung in the air, and the two men froze, their bravado crumbling as their bodies seized up, limbs locking unnaturally.

Ekko turned, his jaw slack as he watched you step forward, your hand raised delicately. The men’s weapons clattered to the ground, and with a flick of your wrist, they crumpled, gasping for breath but unharmed.

“Leave,” you said, your voice calm but commanding, as if the very air bent to your will. The men scrambled to their feet and disappeared into the shadows without a second glance. The glow faded from your body as you turned back to Ekko, your serene smile returning as though nothing had happened. “See? I told you I could handle myself.”

He stared at you, his bat still half-raised. “What the hell was that?”

“Blood technomagic,” you said simply, brushing an invisible speck of dust from your sleeve. “It’s a bit… intimidating, I know. I don’t like using it unless I have to.”

“Intimidating?” he repeated, his voice a mix of awe and disbelief. “You just turned two full-grown men into rag dolls without breaking a sweat.”

You shrugged, your smile faltering slightly. “I don’t want people to see me as a monster. That’s why I try to be kind—to balance it out.”

“Balance it out?” Ekko stepped closer, his eyes searching yours. “You’re not a monster, Firefly. You just saved both our asses.”

The nickname caught you off guard, your cheeks warming as you looked away. “You don’t have to call me that.”

“Uh! Yeah, I do,” he said, his tone softening. “You’re out here lighting up Zaun like no one else can.” Silence stretched between you for a moment.

“Come on,” Ekko said finally, offering you his hand. “Let’s get out of here before more trouble shows up.”

You hesitated, glancing down at his outstretched hand. Despite the power coursing through your veins, the ability to command life and death with a flick of your wrist, something about the gesture made you feel vulnerable in a way you weren’t used to.

But then you took his hand, his grip warm and steady, and for the first time in a long while, you felt safe with him. As he led you through the winding streets of Zaun, he glanced back at you with a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “You know, Firefly, you’re full of surprises.”

“Jeez! You’re full of compliments,” you teased, your voice light despite the lingering weight in your chest.

“Do i?, or do you just deserve all the praise one can get.” he shot back, his grin widening.

. . .

Oh, how you wished that it was just the end. But it wasnt, not in a place like this. Soon after both smoke and ash swirled in the air, a haze of chaos and destruction painted Zaun’s underbelly in muted tones of gray and orange. Shattered pipes hissed steam into the atmosphere, nearly drowned out by the growing fires. The air was thick with tension, each explosion sending shockwaves through the cracked streets.

Amid the wreckage, Ekko’s heart raced as he sprinted through the winding alleys. His boots echoed sharply against the metal ground, his bat swinging at his side as his thoughts churned. Where are you?

He had only taken his eyes off you for a second, just one second. He thought you’d be right behind him as the bombs started going off, but when he turned, you were gone. He didn’t see the men closing in on you until it was too late.

Ekko gritted his teeth, his frustration mounting. He had heard of the Empire you were raised in and its unparalleled mastery of technomagic. But meeting you: sweet, kind, and carrying an unfathomable power, had shattered all his assumptions. You weren’t just a mage but a princess as well. But to him, you were simply you. His light in the dark. And now you were in danger. Seemingly.

When you woke, the metallic tang of blood clung to the air. The room was dim, lit only by the faint red glow of the bindings around your wrists. Your gown, once pristine and clean was dirty by the scuffle, and your heart pounded with a mixture of fear and adrenaline.

“Stay calm,” you whispered to yourself, your voice soft, barely audible.

A group of men stood a few feet away, speaking in low voices. Their uniforms were unmarked, and their expressions betrayed no fear as they glanced at you.

“They doesn’t look like much,” one of them sneered. “For someone called the 'Royal Vermilion of Chaos', I expected… more.”

“It’s a stupid nickname at that” someone else said, though you couldn’t see them.

You flinched inwardly but forced yourself to remain composed. “I don’t suppose you’d let me go if I said please?” you asked, your tone almost playful despite the trembling in your hands.

“Cute,” another said with a scoff as his hand cupped your face. “But we know what you are. What you’re capable of. Better to keep you tied up.”

Your smile faltered slightly as your blood hummed beneath your skin, an ever-present pulse of magic just waiting to be unleashed. You had always been careful, never letting your power consume you. But now, fear began to stir something unstable.

Ekko burst into the place like a storm, his bat taking down the first guard before the man could even draw his weapon. The second came at him with a blade, but Ekko ducked and swung upward, sending the man sprawling.

“Where is they?!” he growled, his voice echoing through the metallic halls.

The third guard hesitated, and Ekko pressed the bat against his chest. “Talk, or you won’t have the chance to regret it.”

“Down the hall,” the guard stammered, eyes wide. “In the main chamber!”

Ekko didn’t wait for anything else. He tore through the hallway, his chest tightening with every step.

The explosion was deafening. The bindings around your wrists melted away as your magic surged to life. Crimson veins glowed beneath your skin, and with a single wave of your hand, the room erupted in chaos. The men who had mocked you moments before were now scrambling, their weapons useless against the tidal wave of energy that lashed out.

Walls were cracked, the ceiling shuddered, and the air itself seemed to bend to your will. But as your power spiraled, a sharp pain shot through your arm. You looked down to see a jagged cut along your forearm, blood dripping onto the floor. The sight steadied you. Taking a deep breath, you channeled the magic inward, watching as the blood wove itself back into your skin. The wound closed, leaving only a faint scar that glimmered for a moment before fading. When the door burst open, you turned, your energy still crackling around you like a storm.

“Firefly!” Ekko’s voice broke through the chaos, and for a moment, you hesitated.

His eyes darted across the room, taking in the destroyed walls, the unconscious bodies, and you, standing at the center of it all. Your gown was soaked in blood, and your face bore streaks of crimson, but you were alive.

“Hi,” you whispered, relief flooding your voice.

In an instant, he was in front of you, his hands cupping your face. His thumbs brushed against the bloodstains on your cheeks, his eyes filled with worry. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” you said softly, a shaky smile forming. “But I think you should ask them if they’re okay.” You gestured to the men sprawled across the floor.

Ekko’s lips twitched, a short, breathless laugh escaping him. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if afraid you might disappear. “Y’know I was so scared,” he murmured into your hair, his voice cracking.

You hugged him back, your fingers curling into his jacket. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean for it to get this bad.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze intense. “This isn’t your fault. None of it is.”

You met his eyes, the tension slowly ebbing away as his warmth grounded you. For a moment, the chaos around you faded, leaving only the two of you.

“That was incredible, y’know?” he said, a teasing grin forming.

You let out a soft laugh, the sound light and genuine. “I’ll take that as one of your compliments.”

Ekko shook his head, his grin widening. “Come on, let’s get you out of here before you decide to redecorate the rest of Zaun.”

As you left the hideout, his arm stayed firmly around your shoulders, his presence a constant reassurance. Despite the destruction you had left behind, Ekko’s steady hand in yours made you feel like everything might just be okay.

Later, the two of you sat in the a garden. It was one of the few quiet, untouched spots in Zaun. Ekko couldn’t help but tease you. “So, Firefly,” he began, his tone playful. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “I wouldn’t hurt you, though.”

“I know,” he said, his voice softer now. “But next time, maybe warn me before you turn an entire room into a scene from a horror movie?”

You laughed, the sound bright and free, and Ekko felt his chest tighten. Despite everything, you were still you. His sweet, kind Firefly who somehow carried the weight of a mage’s power with grace. And as the neon lights of Zaun reflected in your eyes, Ekko leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you,” he said quietly, the words simple but sincere.

You smiled, leaning into him. “I love you too.” The two of you stayed at the garden until dawn. You were practically sleeping on his shoulder, exhausted from today, but he didn’t mind. Because he knew soon that you would have to leave, and god knows when he will see you again. So he wanted to cherish every moment he had with you.

taglist: @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @thesevi0lentdelights @chic-beyond-the-wall-oc-acct @celineandtulips @stuckinaoaktree @fxxvz @jadziulaa @luclue @1intrustivethoughts @finnsky666 @blkmystery @serena6728 @mvistl @kaedeprinz @alientee @ametheslime @turquoizxe @emforjin @ekkosh @tadomikiku @sugaaawaraaa @sunshiines-stuff @night-fall-moon @moonccakes @endedlover @autumn2534 @deathweapongirl @girlistrange @auraa @ilovesugurugeto69 @zwr1tx @bitchydragonparadisee @chewbrry @lashawna200 @xaydria @aliives @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @catsf0rlife707 @pixieswashere @adesum @sorrows-song @hearts4li @qualityearthquakes @honeyfewr @littlegrapejuice @potatointhedirt @comfortweeb

[hattedhedgehog]

My (spoiler-free) thoughts on Dragon Age: The Veilguard

The review embargo has lifted and I can officially say that I've played through Dragon Age: The Veilguard early! 

Here are my spoiler-free thoughts and personal opinions on the overall gameplay experience: 

Narrative:

Rook's dialogue and decisions impact SO MUCH of the game, and come into play later on. From companions remembering your beverage preferences, to whether someone you spared shows up later to help or harm you, it feels like the game is paying attention and that you matter.

The stakes are unbelievably high. The Evanuris are utterly terrifying villains, in ways that Corypheus wasn’t. You really feel the magnitude of their power on a personal level as well as a worldwide level.

Whatever your thoughts on him, Solas is FUN as a character. He’s fun to talk to, fun to talk strategy with, fun to rile up and verbally spar with and fun to grudgingly ally with. Now that he can drop his former act and appear to you as the Dread Wolf, and you get to see his memories, you and he team get to decide how to utilise his knowledge and how far your trust extends.

The setup and payoff of the story beats are absolutely superb. The emotional turmoil as a player of being ensnared by things that was foreshadowed earlier in the game is utterly exquisite. Every thread of the larger tapestry has been woven with so much love by the writing team, and every character’s arc tie into the larger story in interesting ways.

The characters feel like they have full lives outside of the player character. You frequently go exploring their home turf and can meet their friends and family. They interact with each other on their own and move about the Lighthouse to spend time together, leave notes for each other, and talk about each other even when the other isn’t there. The team feels like they all really care about each other as well as you. 

You can tell what your approval rating is with characters, but if you want to romance them you have to put some thought into it. Interactions and world events besides the heart on the dialogue wheel influence their attraction to you.

Gameplay:

The combat is very engaging, and I enjoyed how unique all the enemies were.

Abilities in the skill tree can be refunded so you can redirect to a different specialization, which is really handy if you’re indecisive and overwhelmed at first (like I get when choosing abilities).  Most companions can get healing abilities no matter what class, so you don’t have to worry about balancing your rogues/mages/warriors (most of the time).

Climbing, balancing on ledges, using ziplines and sliding down slopes made environments feel more immersive. Additionally I like how each companion has unique abilities that let them interact with the world (fixing mechanisms, breathing fire, summoning bridges from the Fade, etc), and learning their abilities alongside them helps you grow closer.

The wayfinder light makes everything feel streamlined, so it's way harder to get lost while exploring an area. I hardly had to look at the mini map at all, and usually I’m glued to it! This meant I could actually look around at the beautiful environments and appreciate how lively they were, even without NPCs.

The upgrade system is far less overwhelming than in Inquisition; there are a finite amount of weapons/armour/accessories to be found, which are designed for each specific character like in DA:O and DA:2. There's also no longer crafting from scratch. If you loot an item you already have, it automatically upgrades the single item rather than giving you duplicates.

You know that frustration of coming across higher-level armour that just isn’t as flattering as your current one? Not to worry, you can collect “appearances” which you can toggle on as the visual for the armour while still retaining the benefits of the original.

I cannot stress enough how simple and easy to use the inventory is. It's heavenly. 

Using the shops of specific cities increases your reputation within those cities, which is a good incentive to explore and use the shops. I usually hate in-world shopping but here it was simple, and thinking about it tactically worked pretty well.

Quests sometimes reach a point where you can't continue at your current place in the story, and must return to in later acts. When re-exploring familiar areas, everything feeling big enough to be fresh with each visit, and new loot and codex entires appear.

Edit: something I forgot to mention. In character creator, you get to make your Inquisitor after you make Rook. The build menus are all the same, so manage your energy accordingly for doing it all again immediately after for your Inky. I spent an hour and a half building my Rook and wanted to get right to playing, and had to re-wire my brain a bit to be patient and keep going with the CC. (Seeing my Inquisitor with new graphics was awesome though).

A couple little things I appreciated:

The control sounds are very pleasing. From the whoosh of opening the combat wheel to the clinking of upgrades to the subtle whir of holding the decision button, they're a nice touch.

If companions are interrupted in conversation by combat, they resume it afterwards with a "what were you saying before?".

Photo mode is so fun to play with, and you can adjust blur/brightness/lens/depth within the scene. You can also toggle on and off the visibility of your Rook, your party, NPCs and enemies!

Assan learns new interaction tricks at the Lighthouse as the game goes on.

Nitpicks:

Overall I had an incredibly positive experience. The gripes I had were tiny things like:

I genuinely like the new art style of the game as a whole. However, the blurriness of some of the features in contrast with some elements being very crisp was distracting.

When trying to sell valuables for faction points without using Sell All, it takes quite a long time to count up all the individual sales, and it isn't a live counter. So it's kind of annoying if you get +3 points for each item you sell, need 150 points to get the next tier of items, and over 10K worth of valuables that you want to sell to other factions. 

If you do lots of quests without returning to the Lighthouse often, occasionally companions at the Lighthouse will have dialogue pertaining to the quests you've just finished as if you haven't done them.

You can pet the dogs and cats in the cities, but Rook turns their back to the camera to do it and it blocks most of the action unless you rotate quickly.

Gender stuff:

I was incredibly moved that not only can Rook be trans/nonbinary in the character creator if you so choose, but they get options to feel differently about their identity and journey, and it impacts their dialogue and how they relate to other characters! To access this make sure to interact with Varric's Mirror in your room in the Lighthouse. There are many conversation options throughout the game to discuss your identity with other characters, or relate your change of self to other situations. Crucially, it comes up when entering a romance and you have to communicate with your partner about it, which I never even THOUGHT of including in a game because it seemed impossible to even allow trans main characters to begin with.

There are also multiple trans and nonbinary characters throughout Thedas. What I found the most realistic was that just like in life, it is a consistent presence in any character's life, and comes up in conversation more than once. I have never seen a game this forthcoming and open about the topic of transitioning, and it was so validating. 

Final thoughts:

I adore the other games in the franchise. Something about The Veilguard affected me in a way no other game has. I cried multiple times while playing this game, both from joy and sadness. What struck me most is that the people who worked on this game REALLY listened to feedback from previous games, and were very set on making a piece of art that meant something to people. Even during the last few years of me testing the game, things have been adjusted and changed in direct response to our reactions and suggestions. It's surreal and quite touching.

Mileage will vary, but my playthrough was 70 hours on very low difficulty and I haven't done every side quest yet. I could easily have spent more than 100 hours in the game if I wasn't pressed for time.

I hope you enjoy this game as much as I have. See you in Thedas.

[heliosunny]

Yandere!Anaxa x Mage!Reader

The first time he saw you, you were undoing his chains.

His wrists were raw, skin torn from years of iron biting into flesh. His once-proud posture was nothing more than a hunched, broken frame, his long, pale green hair tangled and dull. He had no strength left to fight, only hatred simmering behind the eyes that still refused to yield.

You tended to him with hands far too gentle for someone with your power. You fed him, clothed him, healed him. And when his body recovered, you honed his mind.

"You’re free now" you had told him, but it wasn’t freedom you gave, it was discipline, strength, purpose. You sharpened his survival instincts, refined his combat abilities, ensuring he could stand on his own before releasing him into the world.

At first, he thought you were no different from his past captors, just another powerful figure toying with him under the guise of mercy. But as time passed, your kindness never faltered. You spoke to him, not as a master, not as an owner, but as an equal.

And then, one day, you left.

No farewell, no explanation. You had done your duty, and that was all he was to you. A responsibility. A passing moment in your grand, untouchable life.

He should have forgotten you. But he couldn’t. So he searched.

He followed whispers, traced the echoes of your name through the cities and villages, piecing together the legend that surrounded you. Y/n L/n, the Kingdom’s Respected Mage. Revered, beloved, unmatched in power. People spoke of you in awe, their eyes filled with admiration, their voices dripping with devotion.

It infuriated him. They didn’t deserve you. They hadn’t seen you the way he had.

And yet, you had left him behind to return to them.

His fingers curled into fists, trembling with rage and something far darker. If he wanted you, if he wanted you to be his, he needed to become more.

More than the people who adored you. More than the kingdom that praised you. More than even you yourself.

The roar of the crowd was deafening. The Kingdom’s Grand Arcane Tournament, a competition where only the strongest mages, warriors, and scholars gathered to prove their worth. Victory meant recognition, power, and most importantly… a chance to stand before you.

Anaxa’s lips curled slightly as he adjusted his gloves, ignoring the eyes around him. He wasn’t here for glory. He wasn’t here for the approval of nobles or the admiration of the masses. No, he was here for one reason alone.

To surpass you. And he was close.

The trials had been brutal, designed to eliminate the weak and unworthy. Fire rained from the sky, ice storms threatened to freeze bones solid, illusion magic twisted reality into nightmares. Yet, he endured. He thrived.

Every challenge was a step closer to you.

And then, fate finally brought you before him.

He had been walking through the grand halls of the castle, led by a guard toward the final test, when he saw you.

You moved with effortless grace, your robes flowing like liquid magic, the insignia of the Royal Mage embroidered upon your chest. Power radiated from you, but it was your presence that struck him the hardest.

The way nobles bowed their heads in respect. The way knights stepped aside in silent reverence. The way the very air seemed to hum in response to your existence.

You had grown even more magnificent. More untouchable.

His breath caught as he stepped forward, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him.

"Y/n!"

For a fleeting moment, your eyes flickered toward him. And then...nothing. No recognition. No reaction. You walked past him as if he was no more than a stranger, your focus already on your destination.

Anaxa froze.

Something inside him twisted, snapped, burned.

You ignored him? No.... No, no, no. This wasn’t right.

After everything. After all this time.

His fists clenched, his breathing shallow, but before he could move, the guards pushed him forward.

"The final test awaits" one of them grunted, leading him toward the towering gates of the Arcane Trial Grounds.

Anaxa didn’t resist. He let them guide him, but his thoughts never left you. It didn’t matter. Soon, it wouldn’t matter. Because when he won, when he stood above everyone else, you would have to look at him.

The moment Anaxa stepped inside the Tower, the air grew heavier, thick with enchantments woven over centuries. The last trial wasn’t a simple battle...it was a test of mind, body, and soul.

Whispers curled through the halls, illusions flickered at the edges of his vision, phantoms of his past trying to drag him into despair.

He saw chains. Rusted. Bloodied. Binding his wrists once more.

"You will never be free."

A voice sneered from the shadows. His very own voice. The voice of the boy who had once been weak. The boy you had left behind.

Anaxa exhaled slowly, his pink-violet eyes sharpening with cold resolve.

With a flick of his wrist, magic surged through him, and the illusions shattered like glass.

He wasn’t that boy anymore.

And he would prove it.

One step at a time, he climbed. The Tower challenged him with spell after spell, enemy after enemy, but he never faltered. His body ached, his magic burned in his veins, but he kept going.

Until, at last, he reached the highest chamber, the domain of the Royal Mage.

Your domain.

His breath was ragged, his clothes tattered, but a smirk played at his lips as he pushed the grand doors open.

And there you were.

Standing at the center of the grand hall, surrounded by books, scrolls, and floating runes. You turned at the sound of the door creaking open, your eyes meeting his once more.

This time, you didn’t ignore him.

"You pass."

That was all you had said when Anaxa stood before you in the Tower's highest chamber, battle-worn yet victorious. No praise, no warmth, just a simple statement before you handed him his new assignment. He would now serve directly under you, a mage of the Tower, tasked with studying arcane knowledge, assisting with research, and maintaining magical defenses for the kingdom.

But despite his new status, you kept your distance.

You never looked at him for long. You never spoke beyond what was necessary. You never acknowledged the years he had spent chasing after you.

Still, he obeyed. He played the role of the devoted mage, following your every instruction without complaint. If keeping his head down, working tirelessly, and proving his worth was the only way to break through your walls, then so be it. But he pushed himself too far.

It happened late one night. The Tower was quiet, most scholars having retired to their quarters, but Anaxa remained. He sat hunched over an ancient text, his normally immaculate pale green hair disheveled, dark circles forming beneath his eyes.

His fingers trembled as he traced sigils onto parchment. His mind swam, exhaustion clawing at the edges of his consciousness, but he refused to stop.

Just a little more. Just a little longer.

He had to be stronger. Smarter. Worthy.

The ink blurred. His vision swayed.

And then.. his body crumpled forward, knocking over a stack of scrolls as he collapsed onto the cold stone floor.

When he woke, the world was softer.

The unbearable ache in his body remained, but something warm pressed against his forehead- a damp cloth, cooling his fevered skin. His mind was sluggish, his limbs weak, but as he slowly blinked his way back to consciousness, a familiar presence filled his senses.

You. You were there.

His head rested on something—no, someone. Your lap.

Your hands, ones he had longed for, ones that had once freed him now hovered over his chest, weaving delicate healing sigils into the air.

His breath hitched.

“...You’re awake.”

Your voice was as calm as ever, but there was something different this time. A softness, a quiet concern you hadn’t shown him before. Anaxa swallowed hard, unsure if this was reality or some cruel dream.

"You overworked yourself" you said simply, as if scolding a stubborn child. "You need to rest."

He should have answered. Should have thanked you, should have reassured you that he was fine. But his mind was drowning in you. Your scent, your warmth, the way your fingers had just barely brushed against his hair. For the first time in so long, he felt something other than burning obsession. He felt peace.

His lips parted, his voice hoarse. "Stay."

You paused, your fingers stiffening for just a fraction of a second. Then, with the same unreadable expression, you withdrew your hand.

"You need sleep" you repeated, carefully shifting his head off your lap and onto a pillow instead. "I’ll check on you in the morning."

And just like that, the warmth vanished. The door clicked shut behind you. Anaxa stared at the ceiling, his heart pounding, his fists clenching the sheets beneath him.

For a moment, he had hoped.

For a moment, you had been his.

And now, more than ever, he knew he had to make you stay.

Anaxa was always watching. Always waiting.

For your approval. For your attention. For you.

But no matter how much he proved himself, no matter how hard he worked, you remained just out of reach. Close enough to torment him with your presence, but distant enough to remind him that he was still beneath you.

So when whispers of forbidden magic reached his ears, whispers of power that could surpass even yours- he listened.

It started with a single spell. A curse laced into his fingertips, shadowed energy that crackled at his touch. The rush of it, the sheer force, was intoxicating. For the first time, he felt as though he could close the gap between you. But you found out.

The moment you saw the dark magic coiling around his form, your expression darkened, your voice sharper than he had ever heard.

"Are you insane?" You demanded, eyes burning with disappointment. "You know what dark magic does to the mind of people, to the soul. Were you really willing to throw everything away for this?"

He had expected punishment. Maybe even expulsion.

But instead, you chose supervision. From then on, you kept him under your watch, ensuring he didn’t step out of line.

It should have felt like a leash.

But to him? It felt like being caged in your presence. And he loved it.

Under your watchful eye, Anaxa returned to his duties, but the hunger in his heart never faded.

Late at night, when the Tower was silent, he poured over ancient scrolls, searching for something he had never dared to seek before- his past.

And he found it.

His people. His homeland. The ones who had sold him into chains. The weight of it settled in his chest like stone. The hatred, the pain boiled beneath his skin. He couldn’t stay here. Not when the past still breathed. So he did the only thing he could. He ran.

Slipping past the Tower’s wards was difficult, but not impossible. He had memorized every security spell, every blind spot. He knew how to disappear.

But he also knew you would never let him go so easily.

He should have known you were following him.

Every time the road grew dangerous, every time the enemy’s traps were one step ahead of him, something interfered. A spell dissolving a barrier. A blade missing its mark. A shadow moving just out of sight.

By the time he reached his enemies- the cowards who had once controlled his fate, he knew. You had been there the entire time. But it didn’t matter. Not when he stood before the people who had once sold him into slavery. Not when he saw the fear in their eyes. And suddenly… revenge felt meaningless.

They weren’t gods. They weren’t demons. They were just pathetic.

Killing them wouldn’t erase the past. It wouldn’t change anything.

So he turned his back on them.

And when he walked away, he knew you were waiting.

The journey back to the Tower was silent.

You never scolded him. Never demanded answers.

But when you finally reached your chambers, he fell apart.

"Erase it" he whispered, his voice trembling. "Erase everything."

You stiffened. "Anaxa..."

"Please." His eyes were wild, desperate. "If it’s you...if it’s your magic, master...I won’t fight it."

You frowned. "Memories shape the mind. If I remove them, it will change you."

"It’ll be fine if it’s you controlling me."

The words slipped from his lips before he could stop them.

For a long moment, there was silence.

"You need rest" you said softly.

You turned away.

And for the first time, he wished you would just take him. The silence after his plea was unbearable. You didn’t answer him. You didn’t cast the spell he begged for. You simply turned away, as if his pain, his very existence, was just another fleeting moment in your long, untouchable life. And that broke something inside him. Days passed. Then weeks. Anaxa returned to his duties, but he was different now.

He still watched you. Still obeyed you. Still craved you.

But now, there was nothing else left inside him.

The hatred, the grief, the fire that once burned in his veins- gone.

All that remained was you.

You, who had refused to erase him. You, who had refused to free him from his torment. You, who had chosen to let him suffer.

And if you would not take away his pain, then there was only one other path left.

It happened deep in the Tower, beneath layers of wards and forgotten corridors, where only the most forbidden spells were kept.

Anaxa stood before an ancient circle, his fingers tracing over runes that pulsed with dark magic.

If you would not erase his past… If you would not take control of his mind…

Then he would give everything to you himself.

A spell older than time. A binding more powerful than any chains.

A curse that would tie his very soul to yours.

By the time you found him, the ritual was nearly complete.

"Anaxa!" Your voice cut through the chamber, furious and sharp. "Stop this!"

He turned, smiling softly. Finally, finally, you were looking at him.

"I can’t" he murmured. "I don't want to exist without you anymore."

The runes flared to life. Magic crackled around him, the binding beginning to weave itself into his flesh. You moved. Faster than he had ever seen before, you raised your hands, and in an instant, his spell was shattered.

The backlash sent him to his knees, gasping as raw magic burned through his veins. His vision blurred, his breath ragged, but none of it mattered. Because you were standing over him now, your face unreadable, your fingers curling into tight fists.

"You're a fool" you whispered. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

He let out a breathless laugh, his eyes filled with something between devotion and madness.

"I tried to give myself to you" he said. "But I was wrong, wasn't I?"

"You're the only one who can claim me. So do it, master." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Make me yours."

You stared at him.

At the man who had once loathed you. At the boy you had saved. At the monster you had created.

And for the first time, you hesitated.

Because despite everything… you felt it too, didn’t you?

The way he always sought you out. The way he belonged to you, in a way no one else ever had.

Maybe it would be easier if he was only yours. If he never left. If you never had to wonder if he'd disappear into the night, chasing ghosts of a past he could never change. Maybe it would be better if he belonged to you alone.

But in the end, you didn’t say those words.

You only sighed, kneeling beside him, your fingers brushing over his pale hair.

"You’re staying" you murmured. "That much is certain."

His breath hitched.

"But" you continued, your voice turning firm, "I will never take away your mind, your will, your soul."

You tilted his chin up, forcing him to look at you.

"You don’t get to run away from your pain, Anaxa. Not with dark magic, and not through me."

He trembled. He hated this. Hated the way you still held the power, the way you still refused to let him give himself up completely.

But deep down, he knew, he had already lost.

And yet, as he knelt there, drinking in the warmth of your touch, he decided.. that was fine. Because in the end, whether you wanted it or not. He was already yours.

[rolanpilled]

Facts about Rolan you might have missed, while you were busy saving the world

Spoilers for Baldur’s Gate 3 below!

Here’s a collection of some Rolan facts you may have missed during your playthrough. (These are all from memory, so I will edit this later with sources and exact quotes.)

He is not related by blood to Cal and Lia - You can find this information by speaking with his corpse. All three of them consider each other family, but Rolan seems to hold some insecurities about his position with his siblings. In the same conversation, he mentions having “no one” when asked if he has family and that he identifies as “Rolan, just Rolan” - potentially implying that he’s been abandoned or rejected by his blood family, if they’re alive.

Cal considers Rolan an older brother - If Rolan dies during his rescue attempt in Act 2, Cal confesses that Rolan is his “older brother” and “the person he looks up to the most”.

Rolan loves organizing things - He has overhead dialogue with his siblings where he jokes about wanting an organized, color-coded sock drawer.

You can try to convince Rolan to leave his siblings behind at the grove - Try to convince him to leave Lia behind, and he will admit she’s a pain sometimes, but he could never leave her, not even for his prestigious apprenticeship.

Rolan’s diary changes depending on if his siblings live or die - Self-explanatory. He obviously becomes much more depressed and angry if you fail to save his siblings.

Rolan and his siblings have known each other since Cal was at least eight - They have overhead dialogue where Cal mentions that, when he was eight, Rolan once conjured a cat for him, only for him to find out it was made of fire.

It’s implied that Rolan, Cal, and Lia share a mother figure - If Lia dies, Cal has dialogue with Rolan about throwing a party in memorial for her, “like [they] did for mum”.

Rolan, Cal, and Lia have unique dialogue depending on which of them die - This is self-explanatory, but you can see most of the scenes here. He also appears to have unique dialogue coded in act 3 depending on if he’s angry with you or not (if you disrespected Cal and Lia’s memories by calling them Carl and Liam), but I haven’t been able to trigger it yet.

https://twitter.com/gimblebock/status/1705080072489574619?s=46&t=ZnMav_9KejiNOZkZPad0Mg

Lorroakan hates to admit it, but Rolan is more powerful than him - Speak with Lorroakan’s corpse after killing him and having Rolan side with you. He will begrudgingly admit that his apprentice is more powerful than him. Side note, it can be implied that Lorroakan never calls Rolan by his name, as he defaults to “tiefling” or “boy” in their few interactions.

If Rolan has a high enough initiative in the Lorroakan fight, he will use Thunderwave to shove Lorroakan off the tower. Peak revenge.

Some of Rolan’s spells have his name in front of them (Rolan’s Thunderwave, Rolan’s Mage Armor) - Some people have headcannoned this as meaning he had to learn magic by himself, therefore being a Sorcerer. Considering his clothes are a unique color combination for the Sorcerer robes, it raises more than a few questions

Rolan always carries Lorroakan’s letter on him - This one always makes me so sad, pointed out by @sadwizardlover. Throughout the game, the one thing Rolan always carries on his person is the written response from Lorroakan to his letter, posted below.

Lorroakan also beats Rolan up😭 He'll only admit this if Lorroakan's dead though

That’s all! If anyone has any more to add to this list, shoot me an ask✨💞

[jellykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 052 - Lovesick! Fae King! Sung Jinwoo x Fem! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‼️[ TW: stalking, obsession, gaslighting(?), gore, body horror, blasphemy, BLOOD, the act of burning people alive, arson, yandere/lovesick Jinwoo au ]‼️

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Then Let This World Set Ablaze ] ¡! ❞

You really don't know how it happened, one day you were strolling blissfully in the forest behind your cottage and now you were suddenly acquainted with the fae king who was in charge of the underworld

In your world that was run by a bunch of swindling and bastard gods with their minions of divine creatures who praise even their most horrendous crimes; lives an eternal fae king of the dead who never wanes in power.

From the heavens, the lands, the seas and the afterlife— The Fae King of the undead was someone no one could touch. Not even the greater demons and the father of all creation could dare face this man.

Well, they did once upon a time.

And the world was plunged into eternal darkness with humans being shielded by the same king everyone had despised. Humans now realized that those they worship had little to no regard to them as they started a devastating ragnarok just for the sake of pride and royalty.

In the end? 80% of the gods who started the war fell beneath the fae lord's feet and reincarnated into ghastly undead soldiers made of shadowy wisps wicked beyond one could ever imagine.

Since then, Jinwoo had become someone the common folk and even demons worship. Does he care? No. He just wants to live his long and take care of his family in his kingdom where no one can get in or out.

Not even the 9th class mages could even locate where it is.

Maybe there are but never lived to tell the tale and probably suffering eternal punishment in his army of the undead where even gods aren't spared from.

Until you.

Yes, you.

Just a simple girl who lives out in the cottage living life as happily as she can away from the big city.

The foolish and small you who doesn't even have a pinch of divine power nor exceptional mana flowing within your blood.

Somehow, the same you who is nothing more than just one of the many soul the resides in this vast world— Stumbled upon the kingdom of the Fae King of the Eternal Night.

Word of tongue say this place would be barren and dry with rot here and there. The nauseating scent of death would flow here and there that it would lead you mad.

But all of those were lies.

Instead you had found youself in a tranquil land where all sorts of flowers glow beneath your feet as a guiding trail. When you followed the gentle lights that guided you in this ethereal land where the stars shine brighter than you've ever seen— You would find yourself in front of the same king that all beings fear and submit you.

Yet why is he so beautiful?

You should be afraid.

And yet you find yourself entranced by this man who brought the mightiest being of earth to their knees.

Cascading and silky long black locks that falls so prettily as if it's made from the finest of fine silk, loose and almost open black robes that seem to glimmer softly as if it's made with a blanket of stars, a face so sculpted so perfectly it's impossible to not say this man must have been a sculpture made with hands of a divine artists whose touch only brings perfection— And oh those eyes.

Those enchanting silver eyes of death that seem to pull you into an abyss you're willing to drown yourself into.

This divine being in front of you,... Is he truly the same man who has powers so great that he can eradicate all living being with a wave of his hand whenever he pleases?

You find yourself incapable to believe that, no way, this man is too beautiful for all that wickedness.

And so that was the day you have somehow stumbled upon the kingdom of the eternal night and earned the favor of it's benevolent ruler.

꒰ ... ꒱

Contrary to what the ancient texts and the priests say about Jinwoo's cold temperment— He's actually surprisingly decent and quite normal.

Maybe even more gentle than the local men of your village who are nothing more than burly men who only care about their muscles and beer and getting laid in the dead of night.

Jinwoo is extremely easy to talk to and seems to take pleasure in showing you around his kingdom which is full of life despite being a place where the personification of death presides in.

No, in fact, this place is far more beautiful than the major cities you have seen in your small lifespan as a living being.

His soldiers who are the most fiercest of all would turn into somewhat into a group of puppies the moment they see their master passing by. Of course, the undead creatures were skeptical of you at first but quickly grew warm as soon as they realized that their 'father' is quite fond of you.

A few of them are even asking if you could play with them— To which Jinwoo strictly says no to their dismay.

You really think nothing of all this, don't you?

After all, the fae king is treating you so warmly.

You really aren't thinking of it, don't you?

You foolish, naive child.

꒰ ... ꒱

Jinwoo had his eye on you for the longest time ever since you had moved into the meek village. You are nothing more than a puny and naive human who wants to live a good life and the village welcomed you.

You were given the abandoned cottage deep in the forest but not too far from the village, they even volunteered to repair the decrepit place to which you can't possibly thank them enough for.

Such generous humans for someone as sweet and cute as you.

Yes.

Cute.

An emotion that the fae king couldn't quite describe at first since he grew used to the absence of emotions because of his birth as the one who will succeed the late Ashborn as the new kingdom of the eternal night kingdom and the new monarch that will lead the army of the dead.

His duty? To uphold peace and make sure all living beings stay in their place and never go out of line.

Should they do so then it'll be immediate death as well as being added to the immortal army to prevent them from reincarnating and repeating the same mistakes.

He grew as a normal child of the elven kingdom. But as his powers grew— His emotions disappeared one by one until he is nothing more than that for a vessel of war.

Jinwoo is more than thankful enough for his beloved family who resides with him in the kingdom. He shaped this barren place for them to live in and do what they desire.

A medicinal lab for his little sister who studies healing magic, a garden for his mother to tend to any time, and a smithy for his father to busy himself to and craft weapons for fun, or maybe just his small way of helping his kind son who unfortunately has to carry the burden of the world on his shoulders.

Truly, he can't be thankful enough.

Even if he cannot feel the same level of affections he has for them the way he used to when he was but a small elven child who wished nothing more than protect and love them.

But then you came.

A fascinating and adorable human that he has a weird connection to.

He was drawn to you.

Jinwoo can never know where these foreign feelings stem from, all he knew is that he is completely entranced by you and you only.

What is it that he feels?

He wanted to watch you.

He wanted to imprison you.

He wanted to see you smile.

He wanted to see you cry miserably.

He wanted to ruin you.

But he also wanted to cherish you.

Jinwoo cant quite put a finger on it. Regardless, he was satsified on just watching you for now since he can't exactly interfere with anyone else's life since he wants to be left alone too.

But then you stumbled upon his kingdom by accident because one of his foolish children forgot to close the dimension that leads back to his domain.

He could punish them, but he decided against it since he is quite thankful of the unexpected arrangement.

He just has to tighten the security and indulge in you.

Jinwoo is aware that humans can express quite a lot since his sister is very much like that.

But you bewitch him in a way he cant really describe.

He loved to watch the way the flowers would dance and caress your gentle skin when the wind blows. He loved the way your clothes wrinkle around your perfect body that he just itched to hold. He loved to hear your sweet voice ringing in his ears when you ask him trivial and downright ridiculous questions just to satisfy your musings.

But he, the king of this land, was the fool that indulged in all your whims.

He can't really resist you, how could he?

Jinwoo has no will to fight whatever is stirring within him in the presence of the precious you.

It was to the point that he becomes extremely obsessed with you without him realizing, he wanted to know more.

Human curiosity is the reason why the species has thrived so far depsite being one of the lower life forms whose sole purpose is to play puppets for the pathetic beings higher than their measly mortal beings, right?

That means Jinwoo can also be curious too.

No matter how twisted it can be.

It should be fine.

꒰ ... ꒱

Oh how foolish can he be too, huh?

Your frequent trips to his kingdom resulted in the villagers rioting against you with the holy church charging you with meddling forbidden witchcraft.

Somehow those old bastards in the town managed to convince everyone that you are doing something heinous when in reality you were just accompanying Jinwoo on a daily basis.

And so they dragged you to the stakes, tied you on a pole and did their blasted rituals gaslighting themselves that what they're doing as it is for the world and the will of the lord that you die by fire.

"Ignite her," A booming, thundering voice ruptures through the maddeneds howls and cackles of the villagers and priests gathered around your sorry figure praying to whatever fucking god they believe in. "I dare you"

"You!" A bishop raises his finger at the stranger, his action full of vigor and pride. "How dare you interrupt this holy ceremony dedicated to our benevolent ghod Anakkhis?"

"Hah?" The heretic scoffs, finding the whole idea ridiculous. "You're talking about that god? That fool that wept at my feet for mercy? You have some thick skin for thinking that someone like me will cower over a measly insect like that?"

"You—" The bishop gasps, completely taken aback at how bold he was. "Restrain him! That filthy thing dares to speak blasphemy of the great one! Burn him alongside that wench!"

"That wench?" Jinwoo clicks his tongue, his eyes turning into an even stronger color of blazing purple as priests and ordinary humans charged at him. "You've given me more reason on why I should murder the lot of you. For daring to call my woman a wench and burning her for a sin that was never there."

With a snap of his fingers, head would explode one by one and the screams of onlookers would fill the air that was once filled with laughter and mirth.

Cold and unfeeling Purple eyes look straight at you, each step that he makes accompanied with the falling corpses.

You dare not look at Jinwoo's gaze, after all, the air is too suffocating. You can barely even take a full breath, everytime you try to it feels like your lungs will suffocate.

And the screams, god those tortured screams.

How dare you ever doubt that he is the absolute being that has put the world on a chokehold?

By the time the priests have realized who Jinwoo was, it was far too late now since he immediately had their heads bursting.

When he reached you, his blackened hand gently lifts your face to meet his maddened and cold gaze.

How is he still so hauntingly beautiful despite the blood splatters on his divine face?

How can wrath look so gorgeous and ethereal on someone like him?

You can see the vein popping on his jaw as he unfastened the ropes and picked you up, allowing your sorry form to weep on his shoulder.

"Please, stop it!' You beg, not wanting to hear more of the torturous screams. "I'll do anything, just please stop it"

"Anything?" Jinwoo tilts his head, musing at your sobbing.

"Anything." You choke up, holding tighter onto him to show your sincerity. "Please, please stop it"

"Then you shall be my wife" Jinwoo simply says as presses his lips on your pretty little head. "Humans have a saying ti'll death do us apart. But you have no need for that."

"After all, your husband is death itself."

He is both hell and heaven depending on which side you choose to take. He is the absolute being that brings everything to it's knees. The madman who has succesfully put the world into the palm of his hand.

The village that once welcomed you with warm and loving arms starts to disappear from the distance as it billows a cloud of smoke from cindering and brilliant violet flames that defies everything natural.

It was a warning to the gods and all other living beings

,... That the Fae King of the Eternal Night Kingdom, the Shadow Monarch of the Immortal Army— Is alive and well.

It is a way to announce that he still stands as the most powerful being with an omniscient view of this wretched earth and will return should they step out of line again.

May it be humans or their worshippers, no one will be spared from the bloodbath and carnage he will bring should his wrath ever be incurred.

And, you.

You, the foolish and naive child of the land—

Is the salvation that will prevent this world from dancing in violet flames so long as you remain in his hold. Forever captive to his obsession.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: Whoever may i write for I will always return to my beloved Jinwoo heheh><!! I love him dearly and can never stop loving him try as I might xD!! Next fic are hsr men again so look forward to it. For now, a self-indulgent au is here that I will be making a bot for tomorrow too so heheh:3!!! ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[wildfairies]

things that are bothering me the most:

antaam stuff makes no sense, full stop. it's also explained poorly/insufficiently.

most of what we see of rivain is completely uninhabited. i also don't care about more warden shit there, i was looking forward to more lore on rivaini people and culture, especially the seers obviously, we've been dying to know more about them for three games.

every elf we've met is ok with the huge revelations that their gods aren't what they seemed and this process happened offscreen. i would think there would be many different reactions to the spread of info about the evanuris, and i would think it would be extremely important to make it clear that info had spread pre-game.

the venatori are the same nonsensical vague useless boring cult with the most nothing goals. as incredibly lame as they are, it's even stretching my suspension of disbelief that they'd serve elven gods for vague promises of 'power' given tevinter's extreme history with the elves. i would think this would come up at least one single time.

the past two points are part of an overarching issue. the contentious and complex political landscape of thedas that makes the setting interesting feels flat. i'm supposed to believe NO ONE in super-elf-racist tevinter would blame the elves for their gods terrorizing thedas? even inquisition acknowledged this, w solas/inky showing concern that revealing the orb was elven would lead to elf racism.

i'm supposed to believe NO elves who've been oppressed by humans for centuries would think 'fuck them' and join up? what happened to the elves who joined solas at the end of trespasser when they heard he was trying to bring back their empire? at least inquisition had wacky cults for every side.

walking down the street in minrathous as an elf or qunari with no difference is simply absurd, i would literally rather never visit tevinter if they were going to implement it so toothlessly. where is the immediate opinion hit for being a mage/elf the inky takes in orlais???

yes the tone is off and a little shallow. yes the companions communicate too healthily for my tastes. yes i was dreading 'evanuris are behind everything' lore reveals and that's what we got. but i honestly think i could overlook those things if the above problems were solved and it felt like the same immersive, problematic thedas.

i'm so completely infuriated by the worldstate choices i'm going to make a separate post about it. but yeah i was concerned but made no noise, i was willing to wait it out and see how the three choices played out in game. and it's absolutely ridiculous that so far two out of fucking three have basically no impact, and the last one idgaf about unless inky romanced solas. i'm so so so so mad and disappointed about this, especially after staying open-minded when it was initially revealed.

everyone loves companion quests, so i don't know why the game feels like it needs to sell you on their significance. why did we get two different scenes of varric spelling it out to rook: do the companion side quests, or else they won't be able to focus! it's such a weird and superfluous tie-in. i don't get why they went so out of their way to clarify this when it didn't need to be clarified, companion side quests are expected in rpgs and their relevance to the plot is very easily accepted/overlooked.

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮 !

— pairing; malleus draconia x ramshackle! reader

— summary; you throw rocks at his window, malleus thinks you've come for a midnight rendezvous

— notes; idk what this is, it just came to me in a fever dream. please donate to my kofi if you like my work. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ It’s late at night, and you’re just about ready to call it a night and head to bed. But then you suddenly think: is there any History of Magic homework?

❋ For a fleeting moment, you consider texting Ace and Deuce. But considering how terrible the subject is at holding their attentions — and yours — it would be a wasted effort.

❋ And so, you decide that the next best option would be to trek to the dorm of a fae prince in the dead of night, stand below his window, and proceed to throw rocks to get his attention.

❋ Because that’s obviously what any sane person would do.

❋ But in your defence, he lives in a tower, and this was the best way you could think of to get his attention.

❋ Ever the night owl, Malleus hasn’t turned in for the night just yet. In fact, he’s completely engrossed in a thick tome when you hurl the first pebble up at his window.

❋ The sound in the otherwise silent room startles him at first, but then he peeks out the window and sees you standing below with a handful of stones, your beautiful features perfectly illuminated by the moonlight.

❋ And his heart melts.

❋ Truly, his Child of Man never ceases to surprise him. No one has ever been so bold, so daring, so romantic as to venture all the way to Diasomnia for him. Throwing pebbles at his window in the dead of night? He’s read about this in Lilia’s novels!

❋ The Great Malleus Draconia, one of the most powerful mages in Twisted Wonderland, is now leaning on the windowsill, practically swooning.

❋ “How devoted,” he whispers to himself with a dreamy sigh, pushing open the window with a grand flourish, so that he might better take in the sight of his beloved.

❋ Meanwhile, you’re completely oblivious to his current train of thought. It’s freezing out here, and you just want a quick answer to your question before your fingers and toes fall off from the cold.

❋ “Malleus!” You whisper as quietly as you can, glancing nervously around as though you expect to see Sebek springing out at any moment to berate you for your transgressions. “Do we have any history homework?!”

❋ Silence.

❋ Malleus blinks once. Twice. He’s momentarily taken aback, but then realisation dawns. This casual question must surely be a clever way of hiding your true feelings! Ah, they’re shy about their affection . . . How adorable. He says, “We do not. But if you wished to see me, you need only summon me in the future.”

❋ “I literally just threw rocks at your window —”

❋ “It was lovely.”

❋ After that, Malleus starts to leave his window open every night, just in case you feel the urge to throw more rocks. He even enchants the area so the rocks won’t chip the glass . . . Purely a precaution for his beloved’s romantic tendencies.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

That's a Wrap!

Kinktober 2024 Day 2: Bondage

Mummified Lich Male Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: noncon, bondage, undead yandere, necromancy, graverobbing, mild blood drinking, biting, magic, soul binding, cock warming, overstimulation, controlling yandere, general yandere behavior

Word Count: 1k

(Honestly not my best work. A bit rushed. Smut isn't super detailed. But I hope you guys like it anyway.)

You didn't really think of yourself as a grave robber. Of course not! You were an explorer, a treasure hunter, a daring person who went on adventures into dangerous dungeons! Now, did that sometimes involve liberating certain valuables from the entombed? Sure.

In fact, that's just what you were doing. You had found a map in your travels that had led you to an ancient dungeon in which a long dead king was rumored to be entombed… along with all of his many treasures…

The entrance was concealed deep within a hidden cave. The opening had collapsed, but you had the right equipment for the job.

Though you lacked any ability to naturally cast spells, you did have several one-time use earth scrolls that would allow you to use their stored magic to clear the cave and make sure it was fully stable. Of course, you also had a scroll of teleportation so you could easily leave with the loot and a scroll of healing in case of injury.

You continued until you found a magically sealed door, though it seemed age had weakened it just enough for it to be broken by your enchanted pickaxe. You proceeded through the antechamber and into the main room. 

Strange. Absolutely no treasures filled the room, no artifacts mounted on the walls, no jars, urns, statues, or gold. It was just a plain, pristine room with some glyphs and runes.

But in the center, there were stairs leading to a stone sarcophagus. This was it, the resting place of King Relik. For something containing royalty, it was disappointingly plain. Maybe he was buried during a time of extreme poverty. You knew you were the first "liberator of treasures" though; you had been the one to break the sealed door. 

Well… a bit macabre, but you could still sell the mummy itself if nothing else. It alone would be a mighty fine pay day. Though you held out hope that some valuables remained in the sarcophagus.

You carefully shipped away at it with your pick. At about the halfway mark, it burst open on its own. 

King Relik rose from his 2300 year old prison with a yawn. He was mostly covered in strips of cloth. Upon spotting you, he willed his wrappings to extend and curl around you. 

The wrappings fell from his body, revealing him to have pale grey-white skin, ling black hair, dark rings around his eyes, and a muscular body.

The gauze evidently held spells to incapacitate whoever they bound but were no longer strong enough to hold such a powerful mage-king like Relik. 

You were only left uncovered from the neck up. The now naked former monarch bit your neck and drew blood, sucking only a few drinks from you. 

As he drank from you, he learned your language and your most recent actions and motives.

"Ha! A grave robber. I like you!"

You had no idea that he had been sealed there for trying to conquer the world as an undead lich. They couldn't kill him no matter how hard they tried, so they used the strongest magic possible to seal him away.

And you had broken the last bits of that waning magic. 

He kissed your neck where he had bitten you and cradled you carefully. He summoned up some clothes for himself. It was all he could do with his powers as weakened as they were.

Relik rummaged through your pack and found what he was looking for. The teleportation scroll linked to your nice private home.

How quaint. He never had to resort to a spell scroll before. 

Once at your place, he took the bindings off, laughed as you struggled, removed your clothing, and then re-wrapped your arms and legs.

"I don't really need these enchanted bindings to restrain you, but you look rather cute all tied up like this."

All you could do was make a distressed expression. He ruffled your hair to comfort you.

"Don't worry. It wouldn't be very kingly of me to just dispose of someone who freed me… especially when they have such a delicious expression of fear."

The lich bit his finger so that a drop of blood flowed from it, he put it in your mouth so that you would know who he was and what he intended. His blood power would work both ways, should he will it. 

Suddenly, his intent flooded into your mind. You now knew that from the moment he had tasted your blood, he intended to reward you for freeing him. He liked your personality and slightly questionable morals for wealth.

Your reward would be an immortal lifetime of getting dicked down by him. 

That night alone, he used a spell to make sure you were lubed and ready, then tied you up, and had you in nearly every possible position. His favorite was simply bouncing you on his dick with your hands, bound behind your back. 

Though the magic fabric wasn't on your mouth, its enchantment kept from making all but the softest moans and gasps. Good thing too, thought Relik. Otherwise, you may have damaged your voice.

Only when you literally passed out against his chest from the exhaustion and overstimulation from hours of sex did he finally remove the bandages. Instead, he held you close in his arms and used you to warm his cock as he fell asleep too.

Over the next few days, he would get enough of his strength back to make you magically addicted and dependent on him. This was to ensure you could never leave him.

He also used a spell to make it so you couldn't speak of him or otherwise communicate his existence to other people.

After a few months, he had enough power to tie your very soul to his for all eternity, causing you to become a lich as well. He sealed this soul pact with a magical collar he had you wear.

In every possible way, sexually, spiritually, and physically, Relik owned you. He may have been a mummy when you met him, but you were the one who was all wrapped up and bound. 

[jacaerysgf]

vampire!jace eating you out on your period

sorry this is late this one got deleted and it pissed me off so bad i had to rewrite it. using typical vampire mechanics. freaky ass fic

monsterfuckertober masterlist

you completely avoided him the last too days. having a vampire boyfriend was strange but you grew used to it after awhile. the ups and downs of your relationship was worth getting to spend every second you can with him. this however was a completely new challenge. it was your first period while being in a relationship with him and you didn’t exactly know what to do, he was a grown vampire, able to control himself around blood but you had no clue how he would react to your constant stream of blood, so you took the liberty to avoid him. unlike most relationships it was hard to stay away from him, feign sickness? well his already dead what could happen to him. oh youre working? he’ll just come visit. you had to be drastic. you told him you were flying out of the country for the week. knowing as he avoided straying too far from his estate let alone the country he was more than reluctant to let you leave but he said his goodbyes two days ago and youve been staying in a rented out airbnd three hours away. it was not far enough it seems cause the two of you lock eyes in a pharmacy he freezes. baela who was with him turns to him with confused eyes upon spotting you, mumuring something about thinking you were gone but you couldn’t hear as you began sprinting out of the building, knowing he was not foolish enough to use his powers in front of a crowd like that.

you get into your rented car and begin to drive off, praying he would find himself too busy to not show up but the second you arrived back at the airbnd and stepped out of the car he appeared infront of you. his face was full of confusion as he approached to question you his freezes mid sentence and your heart plummeting as he smells the air. you ramble out apologies, how sorry you were for lying to him, for not telling him where you were and for making him uncomfortable. the last part as him questioning you and through your embarrassment you tell him how you hoped he was not uncomfortable smelling your period. he merely blinks at you before a smile crosses his face and he presses a light kiss against your lips. he assures you you didn’t need to go to such lengths and he was more than comfortable to be around you during your period it was even preferred for him. when you look at him confused he simply looks at you until it clicks and you grow flustered. his hands attempt to dip into your pants and you step back, atleast asking for him to give you the decency to clean yourself up and remove whatever device you had in or on you and he allows him though reluctantly.

yet when he finally has you bare in the bed he wastes no time diving in. eagerly slurping at you, the erotic sounds bouncing off the walls as you throw your head back in pleasure. he scolds you for not letting him help you for stripping him the honor of tasting you like this as he wrapped his lips around your clit. he happily listens to your pleases as you assure him you’ll never do it again you’ll seek him out and he grins. your legs wrap around his head as plunges himself as deep as he can go, his nose nuzzling against your clit as his tongue plunges in and out of you, moaning as he drinks you up. happily encourages you to grind against his face if he could die again this is how he would choose to do it being completely smothered by your pussy. he doesn’t pull away after the first couple orgasms, only reluctantly pulling away when you beg him too. when you finally see him face again through your cloudy eyes his lower face is completely covered with your blood and he gives you a bloody grin.

taglist ! (open) @chimmysoftpaws @earth4angels @vee-mage @mousie4u @mckennah123 @benjinotes

[alexc-draws]

"Are you alright?"

Short blurb below

Motes of magic twinkled in the air unaware that their master had just met a righteous gruesome end. The remains of the myrmidons fizzled out of the physical plane with minor fanfare. 

Dame Aylin excused herself and the rest of the group slowly put themselves back together. Shadowheart tended to wounds and Karlach immediately began rifling through the pockets of the newly deceased. 

Sorrel’s heart still beat at a frantic rate. She knew she aught to be used to chaotic rhythm of battle, it had been her entire life for countless weeks now. However there was something about a battle against a mage that made things more dire, the raw power that could be summoned with the most flippant of motions was frightening. Still frightening. 

“Are you alright?” 

His voice was muffled by the ringing in her ears, but unmistakable. Looking up into his bright eyes, any response died on her tongue as a gentle swipe of his fingers brushed over her cheek. 

Rolan looked down at her with a worried expression, tension written into the creases at his brow. He had reacted quickly to the combat and despite his teacher’s failings he orchestrated the weave around him flawlessly. Even Gale had given him a firm pat on the shoulder.

“yes,” the response came out as an exhale. “I’m sorry.”

Confusion overrode his worry, “Whatever for? My mast-Lorroakan chose his fate when he made such nefarious intentions known. You did well to try to persuade him from such routes, but he is-was a vain and cruel man.”

The tiefling dropped his hand back to his side, acutely aware that it had lingered on her skin for quite some time. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Sorrel winced, “But your apprenticeship, your plans, all of it. I…I mucked around in your life again.” The last part came out a cautious whisper. 

Rolan audibly sucked in a breath, glimmering eyes searching the crown of her head for the words he wasn’t sure he could say. 

“You did. And I thank you for it,” Sorrel’s bright eyes met his, “I don’t know if I could have found the strength to push back against him. I wanted so bad for all of this ...to mean something.”

Just as she was about to open her mouth a crooked grin silenced her. “No more apologizing.”