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spacebarbarianweird · 5 months

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request for draconic sorcerer! tav x astarion headcanons!!! draconic sorcerers are so fun bc you can mess around with the idea of draconic instincts while also getting cool magic B)

Damn, I even didn't know such things existed! Now I want to play as Draconic Soreceress, too!

Draconic bloodline sorcerers are those practitioners of the arcane arts who have some biological connection with dragons, either through their own relations or those of their forebears.

Wiki

Astarion x Draconic Sorcerer!Tav

Masterlist

Headcanons

There is fire in your veins and scales along your body.

With a draconic bloodline, there is a skill to speak the Dragon language and to cast fireballs.

Dragon blood calls out to you and you suffer from nightmares.

Of course, you know you can't be turned into a dragon - but your body can be changed beyond recognition if the magic takes upon you.

The tadpole is a blessing - the scales are gone and you don't feel the fire.

Of course, you also can't use your magic. Everybody assumes you are a ranger, whose favored enemy is a dragon.

Astarion doesn't believe you - he tastes dragon fire in your blood and demands you tell the truth.

But he isn't afraid. He loves this "spice" in you.

Besides, once he feeds on you, he can cast much deadlier fireballs than he usually does.

He has his reasons to ascend - you have your reasons to keep the tadpole.

The dragon's ancestry scares you, You know it waits and who knows what will happen once the tadpole is gone.

In your nightmares, you transform into a beast. In your nightmares, you yell in pain and terror.

And only Astarion's cold hands can soothe you.

Astarion assures you there is a way to control your powers and, for a brief moment, you believe him.

Astarion refuses to ascend and you refuse to engage with Mindflayers.

The tadpoles are gone.

Astarion cries in pain and disappears into the shadows.

But you...

Your worst nightmare comes to life.

The scales return on your cheeks and hands, red and soft.

The draconic wings burst out of your back, the nails transform into claws.

The pain is so unbearable you want to die.

Before anyone manages to help you, you rush to the dungeons.

Maybe Gale or Wyll would know what to do, but you can't think straight because of pain.

You hide in the Underdark, trying to get as far as possible from sentient beings.

You are going to be a monster, who lives in some dark cave, slowly losing her humanity and sanity.

"I suppose it's not the best days in our lives", you suddenly hear a familiar voice weeks later. "But next time, do me a favor and slow down."

You hide.

You can't let Astarion see you like that.

Let him remember you as you were. Besides, you haven't seen your reflection, you don't know how bad this is."

He doesn't insist. But he also doesn't leave. He makes a campfire and waits.

The loneliness finally is too much and you step from the shadows.

Astarion is very bad at hiding his emotions.

There is shock.

Fear.

Remorse.

But before you escape, he grabs your hand with his newfound vampiric strength.

Scales. Claws. Sharp teeth.

"Well, no tail. Pity - it has always amused me how many things tieflings and dragonborns can do with them."

But most importantly - wings!

A pair of amazing, draconic wings growing off your back.

"Can you fly?" he asks, studying them like an artist.

"I-I don't know-"

"Well, we should find out then. Dragons aren't supposed to live in dungeons. Maybe they are, but not you."

You cry in his hands as he lulls you to sleep.

Once you return to the surface, Astarion finds a mirror for you, and while you stare at your body with disgust, he caresses your skin with his cold fingers, calling you a demi-goddess.

He sews your dresses to highlight your red scales.

He asks you to pierce his skin with your claws when you have sex because it's a pleasant pain like no other.

He adores your wings.

When you hug, they cover you both with a cape.

It's difficult for you to sleep on your back, so you develop a habit of lying on the Astarion's chest, covering you both with the wings.

Even years later, you still have body image issues - the draconic magic went nuts on you, and other sorcerers are just shocked to see what has become of you.

But Astarion has none of this. You are one of a kind. The most gorgeous woman he has ever met.

He also encourages you to learn how to fly - you can't do it for a long time but still can, and every time you are back, he looks at you with adoration.

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@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui

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sayafics · 7 months

Text

Dance of Shadows - Chapter III

Sorry for the long wait, but I do hope you enjoy this chapter! I haven't had time to proof-read but pelase let me know if I made any errors.

Love you guys <33 ENJOY!!

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

Saenyra Targaryen was the youngest daughter of King Viserys I and Queen Consort, Lady Aemma Arryn.

The girl was only a year younger than her sister, Rhaenyra Targaryen, and she had grown up in her shadow. With no male heir, aside from the Rogue Prince - who was repeatedly banished from the kingdom before finding a fleeting excuse to return - Rhaenyra was seen as the heir of Viserys.

With such recognition came the adoration of both the people of the Seven Kingdoms and their father.

Such notions were not extended to Saenyra, a child who was truly defined by her sex. She was to be traded off as a brooding mare when her father deemed it time. That was what the Lord Hand had told her.

Otto Hightower was a shrewd man, able to recognise even the smallest of cracks which he could weather and weaken. He had found one in Saenyra - a tiny crevice that grew into a gaping wound as her mother gasped her last breath. A crack in her heart and a tear in her soul that reeked of agony and desolation as her sister sought comfort in Ser Cole, and her father in the unwilling arms of Alicent Targaryen.

Saenyra was a disaster, a wavering opportunity Otto Hightower couldn't allow himself to pass.

***

Saenyra would find herself bumping into the man when she walked to the library, in hopes of finding a book invigorating enough to distract her from her fumbling thoughts. He would tag along, share encouraging words and place a comforting hand upon her shoulder.

Otto was not blind to the lack of parental love she was offered, and though she was a beautiful sight, he knew that becoming the figure that she was missing in her life was the best way to assure she played to his tunes.

Saenyra was not much taller than her older sister. Her hair flowed down her back in tempered curls and brushed across her thighs, her eyes were a violent hue of purple, and her smiles were shy. She did not have Rhaenyra's fierce nature, nor her confident persona - Rhaenyra knew the power she held in her beauty, and she knew how to use it to her advantage.

Saenyra was ignorant to her charms, rarely leaving her room since she had no dragon to tend. Her dragon had not hatched when it had been placed in her cradle, and being a Princess meant she was confined to the Red Keep without a dragon to help her escape.

She could see how her father and uncle looked at her sister in admiration, how her mother coddled and gushed over her when she performed tricks with Syrax. It caused her heart to ache, knowing that she would never be looked at with such adoration, with such love and care.

It was a realisation she had been burdened with for so long. A realisation she had begun to hope was false after her mother's death.

As her relationship with her father crumbled to dust, she built a tentative friendship with Otto Hightower - oblivious to the Hand's ulterior motives.

***

The day her mother had passed, Saenyra had been by her side, leaving the tourney when her father had leapt from his chair. She held those moments close to her heart.

In those last few moments, she was able to breathe in her mother's comforting scent, hear the sound of her voice, and feel her reassuring touches.

It had all happened so fast, pain turned to agony, and calm turned to dread. Aemma was terrified, a heartaching sensation of horror clogging her throat and muffling her ears at the sensations wreaking havoc in her body.

And all Saenyra could do was watch.

She hadn't let the maids or the nurses push her from the room, had ignored her father's pained pleas and the Maester's sharp orders. She had stood in the shadows of a room that no longer held light, of a room drained of its brightness as her mother fought to continue breathing.

And with her mother's last breath, an anguished cry escaped her as she stumbled towards her mother's cooling body, babbling like the child she had been for such a short time only for them to hold her at bay.

Saenyra had lost herself so quickly, trapped in the confines of her mind - a passive face and a clouded mind.

Whilst her father lost himself in his disease and the role of a King without his other half, Daemon threw himself into the arms of his whores and Rhaenyra into the grasp of her fantasies that she believed to be just out of reach.

***

Saenyra had found herself wandering through the Keep, searching for echoes of her mother's presence within the cracks and crevices hidden within the walls and frames around her.

Her mind felt numb, but her heart ached under the heavy weight of grief. Her eyes were dry - there were simply no more tears to weep. But her hands would still tremble, her lips quiver, if she thought about her mother's passing for a moment too long.

It seemed buried in the whispers of her mind, she had not realised the twists and turns she had taken. She now found herself in front of the doors where her father held his Council meetings.

The corridor was empty, knights nowhere to be seen. And the door was cracked open, as though it had been left so purposefully.

Curiosity was now a foreign feeling admist the mournful sorrow that twitched within her, a stark reminder of the loss she had faced only days ago. It was the whisper of something, of a name which had her inching forward despite her damning thoughts and sinking heart.

Daemon.

Otto had said Daemon's name.

"He toasted to Prince Baelon," his voice sounded grave, his words slow and enunciated. "To the King's son."

Saenyra felt her eyes burn at those words, Baelon had been her mother's son too. Aemma had gone through the hardship of being with a child, of labour and of birth. She had suffered and died from it.

Baelon was her mother's child first. Not Viserys'.

"Styling him..." Otto was purposefully hesitant, as though he was trying to build up the gravity of what he had heard from his spies, "The Heir for a Day."

Saenyra felt her stomach drop at those words, eyes clouding with anger and heart filling with resentment. Her mother had died - had died a brutal and violent death.

How could Daemon disrespect her sacrifice like this? How could he spit upon her mother's strength and her mother's heart?

She could not listen for another moment, ears burning with fury as she stepped away from the unguarded doors. Unbeknownst to her, Otto Hightower's patient eyes followed her raging form as she made her way out of the Keep.

***

Saenyra had never left the Keep much, without a dragon she didn't have much reason to. But she would still lounge under the pretty trees and amongst the fragrant bushes, reading a history book or drawing her surroundings.

She had not found much joy in that after her mother's passing. Every colour she saw resembled her mother's eyes a shade too much.

Now, walking into the Silk Street, far too angry to notice the stares of incredulity or scandalous whispers which began to spread around her, she marched in a furious flurry towards a brothel guarded by knights she recognised all too well.

The guards hesitated, inching forward minutely to hold the Princess back. But her eyes were blazing with a roaring fury, and they were terrified to face her wrath.

Saenyra had been the quiet sister, the tame Princess.

The girl marching past them into the filth of the brothel was not the girl the people of the Keep knew her to be. She was a hue of tumultuous flames, she was bright and she was set alight by fury.

Saenyra stumbled in her steps for a moment. Although she knew of the acts that took place in a brothel, she had not expected to see nude bodies scattered across the building, and she most definitely didn't expect the sounds.

Heat flared to her cheeks, the tips of her ears flushing pink as she looked around her with wide eyes. She felt a warmth settle in the pit of her stomach, a shiver pulsating down her spine as she shifted uncomfortably upon her legs.

Her mind, which had been riddled with fury, came to a halt. Embarassment bubbled in her throat as she looked sheepishly around the brothel, cringed at the moans and pleas she heard from nude workers, shied away from curious folk.

It all came to a head when she heard the sound of a drunk and confused man, "Princess?"

She spun on her feet, suddenly feeling so out of place and having forgotten all her anger at the sight of a place so foreign to her.

She almost sighed in relief at the sight of her uncle, even walked towards him with hesitant steps as though her mind had already erased his horrible words.

It was when a dark-haired woman, tall and slender, tan and devilishly beautiful, came to stabd at his side, that Saenyra took a step back.

She took in Daemon's state, how his shirt had been thrown on as though he was in a rush, how his buttons were broken and his chest lay bare, she saw how his pants hung low on his hips and she could see the sliver of skin that guided her eyes down lower.

She forced herself to meet Daemon's eyes, feigning ignorance at his amused stare.

The woman he was with came to his side, stood in front of him almost protectively. She placed a hand upon his bare chest, petting him as though he was a tamed pet. She barely looked at Saenyra as she spoke, "it is dangerous for a princess to be here at all, let alone so late in the day. I will see to it that you are escorted back to your castle by a knight."

Saenyra's eye twitched in irritation, who did this woman think she was? To order around the knights who only listened to the royal family?

Then she glanced at Daemon, who had not so much as moved, let alone remove her wandering fingers. Was this the result of Daemon's influence? Did his loyalty to this woman tie his Gold Cloaks to her?

She felt her gut roil with nausea, and her anger washed over her with a renewed vigour.

"You sicken me."

It was a wrathful and seething whisper. But it had its intended effect - Daemon's eyes widened at the insult before he clenched his jaw to reign himself in.

The dark-haired woman only sighed, "Princess, I mus-"

"You must remain quiet when the Princess is talking. For I will happily ask for your tongue if you continue," Mysaria looked at the girl in shock. From all the times Daemon had spoken about her, about her naivety and her calm, about wanting to keep her safe and untainted - this was not the girl he knew, not the girl he praised.

Worry clenched at her heart at the thought that somehow this was still exactly what Daemon needed.

"Now, I ask that you leave us to our discussion."

Saenyra did not wait for her to reply, she simply watched her uncle intently. Daemon nodded, and Mysaria walked away hesitantly.

"This is not a place for a princess like you."

"This is not a place for a prince either, especially one who is wedded. And yet, here we are."

"You should not be here, Saenyra," his voice deepened, as his face became stern. He stepped towards her, looking down his nose in disappointment, "you do not know what the people will speak."

"And yet I do. After all, that is why I am here. You could not even keep your mouth shut long enough to save yourseld from Father's wrath. But before you meet his, you shall meet mine," she glared at him, unflinchingly.

"And what is it that I have done to offend you so gravely, hm? Did I not wish you a good night? Did I not buy you a ring extravagant enough for your liking? Did I not praise your beauty like I did your sister's? Did I not fuck you, like I know-"

"Shut up."

They stared at each other for a moment, and Daemon's gaze faltered under her hurt expression. He was not blind. He had always noticed her infatuation in him, and as his own began to build, he knew he was doing an equally horrible job at hiding it, too.

"You have insulted the memory of my brother. Of my mother. She has not been returned to the Seven for more than a few days, and yet here you are - spitting upon her memories with your hurtful words."

"I have done no such thing," despite all the conviction in his voice, Saenyra could not scrub out the image of the brothel worker pressed up against Daemon, despite the vows he made to the Lady of Runestone, from her mind. Daemon was a liar.

Daemon is a liar.

And Otto Hightower would not lie about such treasonous acts like this.

He would not risk his position as Hand.

"'Heir for a Day'. Does that not ring any bells, Uncle?"

Daemon's face fell, his expression becoming stoic as Saenyra let a crack of laughter escape her - pained and weak.

"I have heard the whispers of your mocking tones against my late mother and late brother. Do you have no care of your words?"

"My words are simple truths. Everyone grieves in different ways, you have no right to judge mine."

"No right? Your words have caused harm to that of my family, of my father and my sister. We have lost a mother and a brother, Father has lost a wife and a child. And yet, here you sit amongst your whores claiming to be grieving."

"And what would you have me do?"

Her eyes were pleading as she looked into his own, welling up as she sweltered with the very emotions she had spent days hiding from.

"Anything but this."

"Leave, Saenyra. A princess should not be found in a place such as this," he repeated.

"Do you truly have no care of what you have said? What you have done?" She looked at him with incredulity painted across her face. Was he truly unable to see the consequences of his own words?

"And why should I?"

"Because he will send you away. You have crossed a line, and he will punish you for it with another exile. And perhaps this is one you will not be welcomed back from."

Daemon scoffs, rolling his eyes as he turns away from the tearful girl. Saenyra only bristles in anger.

"Does that satisfy you Uncle? To know your vile words have sent you away from King's Landing? Have sealed your fate away from the kingdom?" Away from me.

"Answer me, Uncle."

Rage bubbled up his throat, flashed through his eyes and he leapt towards Saenyra, hand wrapping around her throat as he tugged her closer.

This was the truest form of the beast that lurked under Daemon's skin, the truth of his horrors and violence.

She looked up at him, eyes pooled with unshed tears and yet not an ounce of fear could be seen. They gleamed with grief, for her mother, for her brother and for something more.

"Do not call me that," he seethed, "do not call me Uncle"

He fretted over her, wiping dripping tears as his voice hushed, almost on the edge of desperation - "call me Daemon. Say it. Say my name, call me. Call for me, call to me."

His fervor whispers sang in her ears, echoing through her body.

She wanted to speak his name, wanted to call to him. But her mind thought of his words - Heir for a Day.

"We are nothing more than that," her voice shook with a despaired whisper, "we are uncle and niece. There is nothing more, and so no reason for me to call to you Uncle. For I know you would never come."

He would not understand the gravity of his words, and surrounded by his whores and desperate men she found her need for his understanding dwindling as the seconds pass.

Her hands came to pry away his own, softly encasing his hands in the palms of her own.

Saenyralooked into Daemon's eyes one last time, sharing a sad smile as she stepped back.

She left through the same door she came, asking the closest knight to escort her back to the Keep and threatening to have his head if he spoke a word of her misadventures today.

Back in the brothel, Daemon was a seething beast. He ravaged through the brothel, screaming and breaking.

Before he fell into Mysaria's arms that night, he threatened every man, woman and child with a long and painful death should they speak a word of his princess.

Saenyra may hate him, but Daemon does not think he could feel anything less than love.

***

Since her mother had passed, Saenyra simply existed, quiet and quaint - her presence was overlooked, an ever-present shadow paid no mind by anyone of Council or greater.

Nor her father or sister batted an eye, and with her uncle banished, neither could he.

After Daemon had been sent away from King's Landing, Otto could feel the tension building between himself and the King. He could feel the power slipping from his fingers as Daemon's parting words of calling Otto a 'cunt', of insinuating he was a dishonourable man were echoing in Viserys' head like the guttural growl of a dragon on the hunt.

Otto needed a way to cast balance, to seize power. And then he found it.

Princess Saenyra had confined herself within her chambers, content to rot away in the comfort of her bed much like her mother had. Her mind replayed Aemma's last moments like an endless recital. She couldn't escape her mother's cries nor her pale, cold body.

Saenyra didn't have the courage to appear for her mother's funeral, appearances be damned. Nor did she have the courage to face her father and sister.

She missed countless dinners, numerous banquets, ignored several calls, and avoided countless people. She would only stray from her room to visit the library, and it was only one coincidental collision with the timid and frail girl that had seeded a plan into Otto's mind for something great and good.

***

Otto Hightower is a shrewd man, there were many ways he could play the situation at hand. But he had chosen to simply sit and wait, strongly assured all the pieces would fall into place.

His meetings with the youngest princess soon became intentional, brushing past her on his way out of the library or allowing her to stumble into him as she took short walks through the garden, trying to gather herself from her spiralling thoughts.

It had not taken long for her to take part in tentative conversations, and soon it cane to be that the little princess would seek out his presence.

It was hard to play ignorance at her blatant need for attention, to pretend to be blind to how she craved a listening ear and a praising voice. Now that her mother had passed and her father had become reclusive, Saenyra truly had no one at her side to offer the love she so headily desired.

And a spark ignited within her as she began to receive it from Otto. His dark ambitions for the throne were hidden behind a guise of paternal love, seeping its way through questions of Saenyra's lessons with the Septa, discussions on the history of King's Landing and the Targaryen ancestry.

Although he tried his best not to, a small ache of fondness bubbled deep in Otto's heart at her endless rambles and the excitement that twinkled in her eyes as she spouted off questions and spoke of anything which held her intrigue.

There was a childish glimmer in the way the princess held herself, full of grace and politeness but an endless bundle of joy and energy too. It was something so akin to what radiated from his late wife that, as much as he would deny it, the lines between his ambition and his care began to blur.

There was a festering guilt, of course. That he was showing a love to this girl, when he was forcing his own child to do unspeakable things for the power he craved and giving the love she deserved to another was a heavy weight upon his shoulders. But he bore it with eagerness, accepted it with duty and sacrifice.

Otto Hightower would do what he must, in order to have his blood sit upon the throne.

Taglist: @marihoneywk @ahristata @gracielikegrapes @luanasrta @pet1t3 @serving-targaryen-realness @tojigirl @do-it-for-kicks @aprosiacperson @moongirl27

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon x reader #daemon targeryan #daemon targaryen #dance of shadows #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen x targaryen!reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fluff #daemon targaryen angst

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theeeveetamer · 1 year

Text

One subtle thing I like about Fire Emblem Engage so far (no spoilers)

Or: the subtle ways in which game design pushes the societal expectation of Male-As-Default (and how Engage managed to avoid this one simple issue)

If you're a lady gamer, you might have noticed the thing I'm going to talk about. If you are a woman and you haven't noticed this, that's fine too, because it's such a deeply ingrained cultural phenomenon that you probably don't even notice it on a conscious level anymore. But I'm sure you've noticed it somewhere in your life. That's right, I'm talking about Male-As-Default, AKA the assumption that you are male until proven otherwise.

Maybe you got into an internet argument and were repeatedly referred to as "he" (and then you had the conundrum of correcting them and getting called "bitch" instead of "idiot"). Maybe you got a cute new puppy dog and everyone at work kept asking how "he" was doing. Maybe you were hyped for a new game, only to find out that the female protagonist was on exactly 0% (or at least in significantly less) marketing material than the male protagonist. Or, heck, maybe you're even plagued by constant junk emails advertising penis enlargement services despite your lack of one and your lack of interest in acquiring one.

There's far too many broad examples for me to go over, so I'll cut straight to the point.

Whenever there's a character creator, the "man" option is always first

My first Pokemon game, and one of my first games ever, was Pokemon Crystal. And while it's an improvement that there was an option to play as a girl at all, one of the very first things you see is this:

A list, with two options, and "boy" is at the top. If you want to play as a girl, you have to explicitly scroll down to the girl option.

This persisted throughout most of Pokemon's lifespan:

And Pokemon is hardly the only offender in this regard. Dragon Age, Mass Effect, and, heck, even my darling Stardew Valley are all guilty of this design sin.

Fire Emblem, too, has a history of this.

The assumption with all of these games is that you will want to play as a male character. If you want to play as a female character, you have to explicitly do an extra button press to choose the option. The female character is frequently posed behind the male character, under him, or in shadow initially (if she's shown on screen at all). At the very least, the cursor defaults to the male option first, even if both characters are shown with equal prominence on the screen intially (such as in Pokemon gen 6 and gen 7).

"It's one extra button press!" I hear some of you saying, "Who cares?"

Well, it's not exactly a secret that women have frequently been unwelcome in nerdy spaces in general and gaming spaces specifically. This is a meta-message, a subtle one, but one all the same. "You're unusual in this space. You are not who we are expecting to be here."

So how do you fix it? Easy. Just make men press an extra button too.

Both versions of Alear are presented with equal prominence on the character selection screen in Engage. The game does not automatically default to one or the other. It does not autoselect M!Alear while hiding F!Alear in shadow or behind him. If you want to play male!Alear, you press left and then A. For female!Alear, you press right and then A. Male is not default, just one of two options.

#fire emblem #fire emblem engage #fe engage #fe17 #fe16 #fe14 #fe13 #pokemon #long post #no spoilers #fire emblem alear #FE Alear #Yes I know all the trailers had M!Alear I'm specifically talking about the game itself #marketing departments are a whole other beast

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olivyh · 1 year

Note

hi,

if u are not busy with anything, can u do malleus x reader with angst to comfort?

Great work, take care of yourself

A/N: I have so many requests that I haven't gotten around to I'm sorry guys ;;;; I'm on a motivation kick so I'll start getting those out as soon as I can! ALSO IM A SUCKER FOR POETIC MALLEUS AND IT MAKES MY HEART GO BOOM bc tell me why Malleus is literally the "my love, I am intoxicated" meme

Happy chapter 7!!!

TW: Drowning, maybe suicide if you look a little closely

Malleus is constantly reminded of the day he nearly drowned in the tub as a child.

It's silly, to think that the heir to the Valley of Thorns would be destined to face death in a bathtub.

It wasn't his fault that it was silent aside from the dripping of the water that poured from the side of the tub and leaked onto the tiles the more he sunk into it. Not his fault that he was so exhausted from his daily lessons that his hands burned and cramped as he felt a knot where his neck met his back that he couldn't seem to get rid of no matter how much he fidgeted and stretched. The warm water of the bath seemed to seep deep into his bones and nestle within him, reigniting the fire that had been so thoroughly burnt out from his short time of living as the crown prince of the valley of thorns.

Malleus stared at the ceiling, listening to the muffled howling of the wind outside and trying to bite back the chill of the air that rests on the tip of his nose as a harsh contrast to the comfort of the water, heated by his servants' magic and maintained by his own. The intricate carvings of warriors and magicians alike; fae and human both dueling as sparks flew across the tapestries and danced within the stone, jewels embedded within the eyes that seemed to stare at him.

As a child, Malleus used to fear the unspoken words that lay within those gemstones. He could not decipher if they were cruel, or if they were kind. Did the human wish to speak to him or kill him?

The fae that stretched from the marble seemed even more daunting, their eyes glowed in the dim candlelight of his bathroom casting long shadows across their sharp face as they glared down at the boy who sunk deeper into the bath at their gaze. They seemed to be frowning at him rather than at the much smaller human they were dueling.

"This is your fault," He imagined them saying. "What kind of ruler are you?"

"I'm not..." Malleus would sniffle, his tears dripping into the water, masked by the dampness that cascaded from his strands and streaked down his worried face, bright, innocent green eyes filled with too much worry for a child so young as him. The weight of the world upon small shoulders, too much a weight for a child alone to bear. The sins and torment of war, the blood of human and fae alike on his small hands that had just learned to hold a pen properly. What was he not? What was he, truly? The crown prince of the valley of thorns? A Dragon fae? Among the most powerful in the world?

Was he not the ruler he was told he would be? Was he a ruler at all?

Power was a heavy burden, much too heavy even for the child who had the delicate balance of the world placed in his care.

Malleus sunk deeper into the water, feeling his body relax further as his tail wrapped comfortingly around his leg. He often daydreamed that it would be his mother combing his hair and dousing the thick ivory strands, telling him tales of when she was a young child, a Princess before a Queen, as he would play with the suds that floated gently to the surface.

In that world, his parents were both still alive and well, not yet cast carelessly to the whims of the underworld. His grandmother would still sit with him and listen to his babbles and his fairytales, not yet burdened with the work of three royals- the crown prince not yet ready to wear the crown's weight (he feared that if he were to wear it, it would slip around his neck and crush his windpipe, the weight too large and the boy too weak).

He sighed and sank deeper into the water, exhaustion pulling at his soft eyelids and gushing him into a dreamless sleep. He felt the warmth around him- perhaps the warmth of his mother's arms or his father's hand upon his head. The warmth of his grandmother's coat and of Lilia's encouragement as he tucked him into bed (Malleus supposed that he missed that most of all, the thought of Lilia dying on the battlefield leading to many tear-filled nights sobbing quietly into his pillow. He missed the bat fae most of all, and dreaded the day the man's troops would come back into the kingdom and General VanRouge would be nowhere to be seen. Oh how he longed for Lilia to have written down a story or two for him to read on long nights such as these.).

Suddenly his lungs were filled with that warmth, and Malleus was sure he was drowning as he stared through the surface of the water back at the scenes that played out on the ceiling.

What scared him the most was that he did not flail, nor scream nor cry nor beg the stars for another chance at life. He was at peace as the water took him, as it filled his being and blurred his vision beneath the soapy water.

Bitterly he thought that a lavender-scented death would not be the worst.

The servants pulled him from the bath and pampered him, escorted him into his room and helped him get into his pajamas (luxurious, yes, but the collar was much too tight and reminded him all too much of the scratchy lace of the collars he's forced to wear day in and day out, a constant reminder of the threat that came with his title. One wrong move and he will lose his head, he's sure.).

Every day Malleus was reminded of that peace, of the chill that bit at his cheeks from the storm outside, of the absolute bliss that came with finally allowing his body to float in the vastness between life and death.

He was no longer a child, and the shadow of the crown that loomed overhead became more and more solid as it reached for him, thorns that wrapped around his limbs and held him to the ground, biting into his pale skin and ripping into his leathery wings until he grit his teeth and set them all ablaze in a green glow that consumed the world should he lose control. Malleus was forced to twirl in a macabre waltz with his destiny, the destiny that doomed him to centuries of solitude, of isolation from the warmth he sought oh so desperately.

By the time Lilia had returned from the war, Malleus was no longer the wide-eyed, innocent child that he once had been. The fanciful stories no longer filled him with warmth- it filled him with the dread and the sorrow that came with knowing that he could never achieve that fairytale ending that he craved. Even Lilia could not undo the effects of the jeers of the citizens of the Valley of Thorns, the trauma cause by sharing death after death that lingered within the tall stone walls of the castle- all caused by the war that was declared by his own blood.

He was a prince, yes. But he could never fill the role of being someone's savior for he was the villain in everyone's story but his own. He could never hold someone as close as he wished, for he would rather lock them away in a tower far, far away from everyone else because he would finally have something that was his, someone who did not stay around him due to obligation or fear- someone who stayed simply because they wanted to.

Perhaps that part of his nature was what made him so villainous, so unlovable to all those who were near.

His loneliness left him in more agony than the thorns that had detained him from birth. The isolation was similar to the cold that nipped at his porcelain skin that same night. He'd imagined that only a watery grave could lift the weight of the crown from his head. Malleus often imagined that same warmth as he watched the jeweled headpiece float to the surface as he sank to the bottom. With a morbid curiosity he often wondered what it would feel like to give into that craving for release- would the people mourn him? Or would they instead mourn the empty position left over?

Yet, the chill of the night seems to be at bay as he sits now with his lover in his arms, head resting against his broad chest as they sleep peacefully, face twitching with every movement within their dream. He slowly wraps the blanket tighter around them as his eyes trail to the small fireplace that sat in Ramshackle's lounge. The fire crackled and snapped, small embers rising up the chimney as the walls creaked with the same wind that shook him to the core that very night.

He had found his warmth, his breath of air as he broke free from the surface. The crown would still lay heavy atop his head, would still scratch at his horns and get tangled in his hair as the vines would still bite into his skin as he tore away at them only for more to appear in their places.

He would bear all that and ten times more for his love.

Malleus rests his hand against their head, smiling softly at the way they stir in their sleep as they felt his icy hands make contact with their own heated skin.

"My Love?" He whispers, deep voice reverberating in his chest against the peace of the night. "Would you stay if you truly knew the burden of being a royal?"

No response, not that he expected any. The fae continues anyways, feeling his jaw clench as tears stream down his face.

"Would you deny me if you knew of the agony you would go through? Would you shut me away and leave me forgotten in this wasteland if you had a mere taste of the burden that is loving a prince?" His breaths were becoming more ragged as the tears continued to fall. "Would you still hold my affections within your heart if you'd heard of the condemnable thoughts that race through my mind- the thoughts that tell me to hide you away and keep you safe from this damnable world we call ours?" The war and the blood and the grief from the blood spilled, isolation, endless nights in his study, a prince forced to be alone by himself for centuries, discarded if not for the blood that pumps through his veins.

"Would you mourn me if I allow your warmth to be my demise?"

"Mal?" He hears them murmur. He feels a twinge of guilt for waking them, unaware of his sniffling and how it disturbed their slumber.

"Apologies, my Love."

"Don't be sorry," They rub their eyes and Malleus feels as though he held his very future within his clawed hands, images of seeing them in this state day and night flashing through his mind at such high speeds that it makes his head spin as he subconsciously holds them tighter. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Please, rest."

"Are you sure?" They sit up and press their forehead to his as they allow their eyes to slip closed once more, pressing a soft kiss to his cold lips and pulling away far too soon for the greedy dragon’s liking. "How can I help you?"

"Hold me, please," Malleus can't hide the desperation that seeps into his voice as the words climb from his throat. They wrap their arms around his neck and pull him closer into the plush couch. He wraps his arms around them as well, one arm snaking around their waist while another entangles itself in the hair at the base of their skull as he buries his face in the crook of their neck, careful of his horns. It's only a matter of seconds before his lover is fast asleep once more, and Malleus feels the pull of slumber upon himself. He allows his eyes to slip closed, pulling the human closer to him and praying to the stars that he dreams of this moment for now and forever.

#malleus draconia #chapter 7 #twst chapter 7 #diasomnia #twst malleus #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #malleus x reader angst #twst angst #twst fluff #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #diasomnia x reader

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cantsomeoneelsedoit · 9 days

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Ch 61: Interest

Shen's desperate to bring down Feng even if he has to sacrifice himself to do it. Since Feng only responds to strength (and certainly not logic!) there's only one way to keep him in check!

And what's up with that bag at Shen's feet? Are those senzu beans? Shen is going to need a powerup if he's gonna defeat Feng!

Feng doesn't have a scratch on him after Andy's attack! He's gonna be trouble for our team of fighters. They'll either have to collaborate to chip away at him and wear him down or take him out in one catastrophic attack, because fighting him in a traditional sense is going to be a mistake.

Before I get too far into the chapter, I want to look at what I *believe* are *some* of the influences for the character of Feng. I certainly don't know Tozuka's mind, and I'm not trying to say that these are 100% intentional, but these are some other characters who remind me of Feng in interesting ways.

1. Tao Pai Pai

Tao Pai Pai (Mercenary Tao) debuted in Dragon Ball chapter 85 as a notorious assassin hired by the Red Ribbon Army to take out Goku. He's ruthless, greedy, arrogant, selfish, uses his braid as a weapon, and even kills someone with his tongue. He's also 291 years old, despite his middle-aged appearance. I don't think there's ever an explanation for how he lived so long. He's just a sage that way, I guess.

There's an anime filler scene where Tao Pai Pai even gets a black cloud like Feng's, though it doesn't last very long.

Tao Pai Pai was visually based on the villain from the Jackie Chan kung-fu movie Snake in the Eagle's Shadow. Take off the mustache, and you'd have someone who looks a bit like Feng (though Feng smiles a lot more than this guy).

But in the end, Tao Pai Pai proves to be a coward and doesn't have anywhere close to the grit, determination, and near-invincibility of Feng. He fights dirty, pretends to surrender, and generally acts like an arrogant dingus. Our Feng would run circles around this scrub. Still, there are parallels between them that I'll point out during his scenes.

2. Feng from The Iceman Cometh

The Iceman Cometh is a 1989 Hong Kong film that's kind of an isekai of its day. It has a villain named Feng who uses a time-travel device. The hero and the villain travel through time to 1989 Kowloon, where the bulk of the film takes place. Spoiler: Kowloon is Feng's last name in UU.

Though both the Feng in the movie and our Feng are excellent fighters, hate-sink villains and snarkers, the "Iceman" Feng is a much, MUCH, more evil character than the UU Feng, and that's saying a lot. You can see how bad he is because of his evil mustache.

3. Feng Wei from Tekken

I haven't played a fighting game in...decades, but I hear that Feng Wei is a hot-tempered Blood Knight who's obsessed with becoming the greatest fighter in the world. He fights in a different style than Feng's Bajiquan, though. As much as Tozuka loves referencing fighting games, I wouldn't be surprised if Feng Wei was an influence.

Honorable mentions:

Akuma/Gouki from Street Fighter, who's obsessed with fighting Ryu at his peak

Younger Toguro from YYH, who would go to great lengths to preserve his strength and youth

Anyway, the character of Feng is heavily based in the Arrogant Kung-Fu Guy who's always looking for a Worthy Opponent, and if he can't find one, he'll create one. He's neglected almost every other aspect of life in pursuit of power and satisfaction, and it seems he'll never be satisfied until he's killed by someone he deems worthy.

Shen and Feng are two different sides to the same coin-- a life dedicated to martial arts can take a dark or light path depending on the motivations of the user, which is a common theme in works about martial arts.

OK, with all that out of the way, let's continue the chapter!

Yeah, you can't just introduce a character like Feng and then not have Andy fight him! Slow down, Fuuko! We've gotta see Feng slug it out with Andy!

Well, that's certainly a strategy!

Feng's staff can transform into nunchucks to adapt to different kinds of fighting situations, just like a good martial artist. It's a versatile weapon that's well-suited to a quick-thinking fighter like Feng.

Being adaptable and able to shift styles and weapons is a major theme in a lot of Bruce Lee flicks, so it's no surprise to see Feng strike Lee's famous taunting pose on the next page.

Andy accepts the invitation so quickly that he steps out of his panel! He attacks with supercharged punches while Fuuko holds on for dear life! But Feng is still just standing there barely moving...

Despite the frenzy of his attack, Andy's thinking strategically about how to bring Feng down. He's not interested in prolonging the battle the way Feng is.

Feng fights with his hands behind his back the way Tao Pai Pai does.

His foot stomp is so powerful that it cracks the UMA's body, like the Earthquake Foot in Kengan Ashura or this scene from Kung Fu Hustle:

Andy is incapacitated by it, too! Shen is way too powerful!

Pretty rich for Feng to be calling someone else arrogant!

Ouch! Poor Andy! Using his wrist and elbow, Feng dislocates both of Andy's shoulders at once.

Feng's figured out Andy's rules before Andy had a chance to test Feng. Andy's strategy was to "keep dying" until he discovered the rules, but if Feng is only going to incapacitate him, then Andy won't be fighting at his full strength.

But but but it could cause osteoarthritis? Or ligament damage? And that could be deadly because... bone spurs? IDK, I'm grasping at straws here. I don't WANT Andy's power to have a loophole! But I suppose if someone has to discover a loophole, it should be Feng. I wonder if Juiz knows about this detail...

Andy attacks again, but Feng blocks with his forearm. Why can't Andy damage him???

Feng attacks with a double-palm strike:

Oh damn, Feng isn't depending on an ability! Everything we've seen has just been his natural fighting power! He looks genuinely surprised that Andy's still standing. Perhaps Andy is a worthy opponent?

Finally, we learn the name of Feng's style! By the way, if you're wondering about the Japanese names of Feng's moves, the UU English translator David Evelyn explained them here!

I would also like to mention Andy's sad shoulders. Utterly heartbreaking. I don't think we've ever seen him slouch like that before! He really looks incapacitated that way, and from Fuuko's expression, it's concerning her, too!

This page, though! I love this simple layout and how much it shows about the battle. Feng's lost his smile, but Andy's grinning now!

Andy's disinterest in being the strongest is curious. If he DID have that ambition, I'd imagine we'd see a lot more conflict between him and Victor. To Feng though, anyone who lacks that ambition is a coward.

Feng punches clean through Andy, likely attempting to take out Fuuko since he knows Andy can heal from something that catastrophic.

Feng taunts Andy for caring about something more than just his own strength and threatens to kill Fuuko in order to make Andy power up. Jeeze, this guy really has only one strategy to motivate people...

WHAT IF I KILL YOUR LOVED ONES?!? THEN WILL YOU BE STRONG?! THEN WILL I BE STRONGER THAN STRONG YOU?!

Best zombie.

"While I've got you here, let me tell you something..."

Feng, of course, has ignored the advantages of working in a team and fighting altruistically.

Shen's been missing for a minute! He comes back in style to stab Feng through Andy, much to Andy's surprise. Feng is delighted to see that Shen's emotion-powered attack was so strong! He's willing to do anything to fuel their rage. Can the Union work together to beat him without losing their cool?

Masterpost

#undead unluck #overreading undead unluck #been wanting to write this one for a while now!#almost hit the image limit

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happilyhertale · 1 year

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Long Last Love - Aemond Targaryen x female!reader, Part 11

Summary: You are finally engaged to Aemond Targaryen. As the daughter of Daemon and Rhaenyra, you will now live in King's Landing and no longer on Dragonstone. Your marriage to Aemond is imminent, as is your life together. The relationship between Aemond and your family has never been particularly easy, but the future will show whether your love will withstand this and subsequent tensions.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: In some parts Smut (uncle/niece) as well as violence

Author’s note: Hey you (:

This is the follow-up story to "Long Lost Love"

The story starts just before the wedding of Aemond and y/n and goes over the events of the first season hotd. However, the events are not quite similar to those in the series. English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 3.9k

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You wander through the corridors of the keep. Ser Erryk accompanies you and you have animated conversations. You actually wanted to pick Alyssa up from Helaena last night, but Jaehaera and Jaehaerys begged for so long that you gave in and let Alyssa spend the night with them.

They wouldn't let Alyssa go the next morning either, and you gave in again after Helaena assured you it was no problem. It seems to do Alyssa good to be with her cousins and play with other children.

So you spent the whole day wandering the corridors with Ser Erryk.

In the evening, you are on your way to your chambers when your gaze falls out of one of the windows. The sun is just beginning to set when a huge shadow is seen looming over King's Landing.

Vhagar must be back, and with her Aemond.

Aemond has been away since last night. You have missed him very dearly. Even though you haven't agreed with all his decisions lately, his absence has shown you how much you love him. Aegon's idea of marrying Aemond to one of the Baratheon ladies still sits in the back of your mind and it torments you. Somehow you're worried that Aegon will have his way.

But you having to spend the night without him was particularly cruel. You are no longer used to sleeping without a warm body by your side. Especially Aemond's warm body. You missed that he didn't come to bed in the evening and pull you close to him. That he didn't press his nose into the crook of your neck and you missed the soft kisses he usually leaves there every night. You don't know if he notices, but even though you were asleep before, you always notice when he pulls you close to him every night.

You have to smile, but somehow you long for an evening with Aemond and even toy with the idea of leaving Alyssa with Helaena for another night.

You turn around and want to go to the dragon pit. Ser Erryk wants to accompany you, but you allow him to have a nice evening and tell him he may go. He was about to contradict you, reminding you that Prince Aemond would not approve of you going to the dragon pit alone, but you reassure him that it is all right as you walk away from him. You want to greet Aemond alone. You want to meet him in the dragon pit and see his smile, which always curls his lips when he sees you. You want to feel his arms around you and press yourself close to him so that his warmth floods through your body. You want to press your nose into the crook of his neck and inhale his natural scent with a hint of dragon and smoke. Without Ser Erryk standing behind you.

As you walk to the dragon pit, you dreamily stroke your lips, kissed softly by Aemond just last night.

When you are near the dragon pit, you hear a loud, terrible scream. Without hesitation you know it is Vhagar. Startled, you stop for a moment. Panic seizes you. Has something happened to Aemond? And again Vhagar screams, and it shakes you to the core. A deep rumble goes through the walls of the dragon pit. Now you almost run into the pit. Vhagar does not cry out without reason. When you reach the depths of the dragon pit, you look around frantically for Aemond.

Vhagar is standing at the entrance to the pit, but Aemond is not on her back. This worries you. In the opposite corner you see Meraxes, who has noticed you entering the pit and is now sitting up excitedly, swinging her tail back and forth a little.

You walk a little way around Vhagar at a safe distance when you suddenly see his silver hair. It does not fall softly around his shoulders as usual. It is stringy and looks as if he has been holding his head in a tub filled with water. He kneels beside Vhagar in the dirt as if he had fallen out of the saddle. Panic rises in you. Another scream echoes through the dragon pit as Vhagar notices you coming towards them. But this time it sounds almost desperate, as if she is calling you.

You walk faster towards them now and when you have almost reached them, you are almost sure that you hear him sobbing. His eye is closed and he is completely soaked, his leather waistcoat is dripping with wetness. His whole body is shaking and he doesn't seem to notice anything around him. But he just kneels there, his hands in his lap. You hear him breathing heavily. You see his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Aemond...?" you whisper.

He tears open his eye and immediately looks in your direction. He is still breathing heavily.

"Aemond... what's wrong? What happened?"

He says nothing. His face is contorted in pain, but he says nothing.

"Aemond... you frighten me. Did something happen to you? Are you in pain?"

You kneel beside him. You look at him worriedly for a moment as you slowly lift your hand. Carefully you caress his cold, wet cheek. You fear that if you move too quickly you might scare him away. But he leans into your touch. For a short time the pained expression seems to disappear from his face.

Until he says, "My Love... My Queen...", his voice trembles like the rest of his body.

You just nod and continue stroking his cheek. His eye is closed and his breathing seems to be normalising.

After a while you break the silence, "What's wrong Aemond? Talk to me please."

Suddenly he puts his arms around you and pulls you onto his lap. Your dress immediately soaks up his wetness as you sit on his lap, but that doesn't bother you in the least. You hear him whisper, very softly, "I need to feel you". He holds you close to his body as if you were his haven of comfort.

Something is wrong and you are afraid for him. You are worried, something has happened that he cannot talk about. You feel that he needs you, that you need to be with him to hold him, to make his agony a little more bearable. You lean your head against his and gently caress his cheek.

You hear him whisper softly again, "It was an accident.... an accident! You have to believe me..."

"What was an accident, Aemond? Are you hurt?", carefully you take his face in your hands to perhaps discover a clue as to whether he is injured.

He shakes his head, "No... Not physically..."

You look at him irritated, "Aemond... please stop speaking in such riddles."

You let your thumbs wander slowly over his cheeks. His eye turn to you. You have never seen this expression in his gaze before. A mixture of pain, hatred and sadness covers his face. Tears well up in his eye.

Carefully you lean towards him and gently let your lips slide onto his. His cold lips literally burn on yours and soak up the warmth of your lips.

He does not react to the kiss, but does not push you away either. You let your forehead rest against his, "Aemond... please... you have to talk to me... I don't know how else I can help you."

He nods slowly as a tear runs down his cheek. Your heart aches.

"Y/n... I love you. I love... love you so much. More than my own life.. You are my everything. You and Alyssa. I would do anything for you. Every pain.. you experience, I feel at least twice..."

"I know Aemond... I don't feel any less for you. But what's wrong...?", you gently kiss his cheek.

"In Storm's End... I was not alone there"

You nod slowly.

"Your mother also sent a messenger..."

The panic inside you reaches its peak as you notice Aemond avoiding your gaze.

"Aemond... what have you done?"

His arms close tighter around your body.

"It was an accident..."

"Aemond!", you become impatient and afraid of what you will hear.

His gaze becomes more pained.

"Vhagar was out of control... I had no control over her... I know that you can never fully control a dragon.... But for two people to lose control of their dragons at the same time..."

You shake your head slowly.

"... Arrax was just as out of control. The young dragon was scared..."

You can't say anything. Aemond fixes his gaze on you after you say nothing more. He tries to find a hint in your gaze of what is going on inside you, but he finds nothing in your gaze.

"What have you done...?" you finally whisper.

"I chased him"

Anger rises within you, "You chased my brother??? A child?? On Vhagar??"

"I just wanted to scare him... I wanted to get revenge for my eye that he took from me," he looks at you almost pleadingly.

"And then you choose to chase him with the biggest dragon in the world??? You want to scare a child... What's wrong with you??"

A pained expression crosses Aemond's face.

"Aemond... You must tell me now what happened. Where is Luke? Is he back on Dragonstone?"

The pained expression does not leave his face and again he avoids your gaze. Until he whispers, "Arrax went after Vhagar... Arrax was scared... And that was the moment she stopped taking orders."

"What...? No…", your voice is barely audible.

"Arrax spat fire in Vhagar's face and I heard Luke scream... Arrax stopped obeying Luke..."

Again you just shake your head.

"Vhagar started hunting Varrax. There was nothing I could do. I shouted every command I knew at her... Every one! Several times! She ignored me. She wanted revenge now. I pulled frantically on the leashes. I almost slipped out of the saddle, I wanted to get a reaction from her... But I got none... I shouted to Luke several times to fly to Dragonstone as quickly as possible, because I could no longer control Vhagar. I hoped that he would hear me and take my warning seriously... I hoped that Arrax was smart and fast enough and could escape. But Vhagar found them... She tracked Arrax down. They didn't stand a chance... Vhagar bit once and… they were gone..."

You do not breathe. You have to process these statements. Your head is spinning. Until a switch flips in it. Your world comes crashing down. You look into his face. That face that is covered in pain and worry. That face that you adore with an incredible love... That face belongs to the man who killed your little brother.

In one movement you slide off his lap and push him away from you. His hands reach for you desperately, but you push them further away. Your tears fall silently. As you desperately crawl backwards away from him, you see him kneeling helplessly in front of you. When suddenly you hear Meraxes scream. Like a reminder that she is there for you, she draws your attention.

She has sensed your tension all the time and has not taken her eyes off you. Attentively she sits at your back, as if ready to defend you to the death at any moment.

You look over your shoulder and see Meraxes. But your tear-streaked face seems to increase her tension. Slowly, but with a sure gait, she approaches you.

Vhagar notices the arriving dragon and turns around as well. She now stands at her rider's back, ready to defend him at any moment. Never before has Vhagar stood so menacingly before you. Only Aemond is between you and prevents Vhagar from confronting Meraxes with the same aggressiveness.

But Meraxes does not retreat. She is not afraid of Vhagar. Your safety is her top priority and the fact that you do not let Aemond get close to you, but push him away, alarms her.

A deafening scream shakes the dragon pit and brings you back to the moment you most want to escape. Meraxes signals to Vhagar that she will not retreat. Vhagar immediately answers Meraxes with a scream, but Meraxes is not impressed and interrupts her scream. Her scream seems to rumble louder than Vhagar's. A sudden heat seems to emanate from Meraxes. You hear Meraxes take a deep breath.

But you slowly raise your hand. You look at Meraxes, and as her gaze returns to you, you nod slowly at her. Meraxes notices that there seems to be no danger to you.

As you see Meraxes slowly sit down, you turn your head back to Aemond. You still cannot breathe properly. Your chest feels like it is contracting. Everything hurts so much, you don't know how to keep breathing with this pain, let alone keep living.

You are still sitting in the dirt, Aemond kneeling on all fours in front of you. You clutch your chest, trying to relieve the pressure somehow. Slowly you let your upper body sink forward and sobs leave you. When the sobs finally leave your body, they seem to relieve some of the pressure in your chest. Your little brother is dead. Luke... he is dead. He's not coming back.

Aemond slowly crawls towards you and kneels beside you. You hear him sobbing. Slowly he wraps his arms around you, "I'm so terribly sorry!"

You can't speak, and his words don't seem to improve the situation either... you are gripped by anger. You have always tried to find a way between your brothers and Aemond that is somehow bearable for everyone. You have never taken sides. When Aemond provoked your brothers, you tried to protect them. And when your brothers went after Aemond, you put them in their place. Choosing to become Aemond's wife didn't change the fact that you loved your brothers.

You always tried to see both sides... To understand both sides! But now Aemond has taken your brother away from you... Your little brother! So he's literally forcing you to choose a side. And which side that is seems clear.

You start punching his chest while his arms are around you. Again and again you let your fist hit his chest. Again and again you desperately hit his chest with all your might.

He lets you do it, he doesn't fight back. He looks pained. Tears come to his eye. Despite the blows that hit him, he continues to hold you in his arms. Your fists start to hurt as they keep hitting the buckles of his leather waistcoat. As your blows weaken, your sobs grow louder. Quietly you hear him speak, "If you want to go now... I'll help you escape..."

You are irritated and this briefly interrupts your sobs. The blows you were throwing against his chest also stop. You look at him in horror with your eyes reddened by crying. Does he want you to leave now? That you go back to your parents and he stays here with his family? The pain in your chest grows stronger.

"What...? How... I don't understand. How can you think that of me? Do you want me to leave you?", suddenly you have to sob again.

"I would never want you to leave me!" he caresses your face, trying to fight the endless stream of your tears.

"But… Don't you want to go to your family?" he whispers.

"Aemond!", you hit him again, "... You are my family! You are my husband... The father of my daughter... How can you think I would leave your side?!"

"But... I killed..." he just whispers, but you hold your hand over his mouth, you can't bear to hear what he has done.

"Please... don't say it..."

A short silence follows, your hand still on his mouth.

"I made a vow back then, and I'm sticking to it. Until the end of my days, I will stay by your side. And unless you plan to drive a dagger into me... I'll stay by your side."

Again he looks pained. His eye fills with tears again and his gaze goes to the floor.

When suddenly a terrible thought seizes you, "Alyssa!"

His irritated gaze immediately turns back to you.

"They'll come for her," you look at him desperately.

He shakes his head, "No one will get to her. Daemon... He would never hurt his granddaughter," his lips are pressed together into a thin line.

You cry bitterly, he continues to hold you.

"No one will hurt you," he whispers to you.

As your sobs subside with exhaustion, Aemond slowly stands up. Carefully he helps you up. Your gaze is blank. Your whole body is numb. He leads you to your chambers. You do not speak, but he holds you in his arms all the way. Your whole body aches. In your chambers you stand in the middle of the room. You just stare ahead. As you look down at yourself, you notice how dirty and wet your dress is. Your whole body begins to tremble. You desperately try to knock the dirt off your dress, just as you would like to knock the memory of that evening off. Again and again your hands hit your dress, trying to remove the dirt. Your sobs become louder again. Until Aemond stands beside you. His arms are suddenly tight around you, so that you can no longer hit yourself. He just holds you tightly in his arms. You sob against his chest. After a while your sobs subside and you stop shaking. You just stand there with your face buried in his chest. Slowly Aemond releases the embrace. He takes your face in his hands, but you do not see him. Your gaze is still blank. Aemond steps behind you and helps you take off your wet and dirty dress. Carefully he pulls a dry nightgown over you and helps you to lie down in bed.

But no further touches are exchanged between you. You lie in your bed in silence. You are still trying to process what happened tonight.

You don't know if Aemond lay next to you immediately or came to bed later. But when you suddenly notice arms reaching for you, you push them away. You don't let his arms touch your body. You can't stand it.

Again and again you start to cry. Just as quickly as these crying fits start, they end again. Aemond wants nothing more than to hold you in his arms and try to comfort you. But every time he tries to get close to you, you push him away. This hurts him immensely, he can't stand the fact that he is the cause of your suffering and can do nothing to make you feel better. But the pain he feels is nothing compared to the pain that floods your body.

It is the first night that Aemond lies next to you in bed and does not have you in his arms.

You find little sleep at night. As your brain begins to work in the early hours of the morning, you immediately feel the dull ache inside you. Aemond lies next to you. From his body language, you would say that he too is awake and has probably found little sleep. Even if he is not holding you, he is lying close to your side. You may not admit it, but it makes your pain a little more bearable that he is lying next to you. His warmth as well as hearing him breathe has made the unbearable crying fits subside again and again.

As the first rays of sunlight fall into your chambers, you get up. You see your dress from the night before lying on the floor. You can't stand this dress any more. Wordlessly you pick it up from the floor. You walk over to your balcony and step out. Without hesitation you throw it down from the balcony. Aemond, who suddenly felt panic when you entered the balcony, stands in the doorway to the balcony. His gaze is fixed firmly on you, but you simply push past him and return to your chambers.

You choose a black dress to wear today.

Aemond does not even take his eyes off you. But you cannot speak to Aemond, which leads to an oppressive silence in your chambers.

When he breaks the silence, "My love... I have to tell my mother about this... Do you want to be there?"

You avoid his gaze. You just nod slowly. You don't know exactly why, but you feel you owe it to Luke.

You leave your chambers together. Aemond has his hands clasped behind his back, while you again make no effort to accept his touch. But he is close to your side. He still tries to be there for you somehow.

Ser Erryk is at your side as always.

Aemond suspects that his mother is in the small council room and he is right. As you enter the room together, Alicent and Aegon are standing there.

Alicent immediately sees that something is wrong. Your eyes are red and small from crying. "Aemond? What happened??"

Aegon laughs briefly, "Trouble in paradise? Did you marry a Baratheon lady? Niece, as I said before, I'm happy to take your mind in another direction..."

"Brother. Restrain yourself."

Aegon looks at Aemond. You just look out the window.

"I did not marry another lady. I… may have started a war..."

Alicent's eyes grow wide and Aegon looks interested.

"What have you done, Aemond...?" whispers Alicent.

Now your eyes fall on Aemond and you see the exact same emotions flood his face as they did last night.

"I have lost control of Vhagar... And the same thing happened to Luke with Arrax. It was an accident"

A smile curls Aegon's lips.

"I killed Luke," Aemond whispers. You close your eyes. You have the feeling that you are about to fall over. Your chest constricts again.

Alicent comes towards you, she holds you and you let her. "Oh my dear.... I'm so sorry."

She strokes your head as she just holds you.

Aegon is really getting into the mood now.

He puts his hand on Aemond's shoulder encouragingly, "Well you finally did something right! That's a good start after all!"

Aemond looks at him hatefully.

You look up while Alicent is still holding you.

As Aegon looks up, "Ha... Aemond the Kinslayer!"

Now you snort and tear yourself away from Alicent's arms. She looks after you, startled, as you leave the room. Aemond comes after you and tries to grab you gently by the arm, but you only hiss, "Don't you dare touch me!"

A pain runs through his entire body, but he lets go of you. His gaze wanders to Aegon, he looks at him hatefully.

"What, did I say something wrong?"

You walk through the corridors. Tears stream down your face. Ser Erryk walks by your side, but he says nothing, and you are glad you can just weep silently.

You make your way to Helaena's chambers. You don't speak much when you get there. Helaena tries to reassure you, not knowing what has happened. But you just want to pick up your girl and go to your chambers. Alyssa, with her sensitive nature, notices that you are not well. On the way to your chambers you hold her in your arms and she snuggles up to you.

Ser Erryk escorts you safely to your chambers and stands guard at your door. You lie down in bed, Alyssa close beside you, and just hold her. The only touches you can bear at the moment are those of your daughter.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list

@leahjean @afro-hispwriter @jeyramarie @powellssaturn @notabotiswear @hoshi-miharu-blog @random-human02 @m00n5t0n3 @sporadicshepherdzinebear @drewsgfduh @stargaryenx @dark-night-sky-99 @ccosmic-illusion @darylandbethfanforever9 @grungegrrrl @spn-obession @carlottalhn @elle4404 @girl-with-an-orange-cat @genshinimpactislife @imjustboredso @tragicbucky @dollfaceyourfear @magnificantmermaid @mllemarianne @mikariell95 @khaothick @aemonds-wifey @burningshewolf @munsonswrld @jackierose902109 @scaraxmouche @bucky-thorin-winchester @alexandra-001 @yentroucnagol @cicaspair418 @tropicprincess08 @simplyarryn @bellameshipper @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

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ragecndybars · 2 months

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AO3 tag game :3

thanks so much for the tag @mvshortcut !!!!! much appreciated, this was a blast to fill out :D

How many works do you have on AO3?

86! Damn, that's more than I remember 🙀 I have been writing pretty fervently since I was pretty young, though, and I transferred all my old fics from fanfiction dot net to AO3, so it's a long stretch of time. All my old wattpad fics are still rotting somewhere though lmaooo I can't even access them anymore bc I forgot my password and I can't reset it bc I used a school email 😔

What's your total AO3 word count?

443,734! When I get to half a million I'm gonna have to throw myself a party. With boba and everything

How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?

Oof, okay, here we go. A lot of the fandoms I have tagged on AO3 don't really "count" because they're just aggregate tags for the same fandom, so even though AO3 says the number is 48, I'm gonna count the TRUE number as 17. (It got cut down so much because of how many video game series have different games with different fandom tags on AO3, lmao)

Here's the breakdown of the list:

Persona (Mostly Persona 3)

Fire Emblem (Mostly Shadow Dragon and Blazing Sword)

Legend of Zelda

Pokemon

Professor Layton

RWBY

Kid Icarus: Uprising

Earthbound/MOTHER

Red vs. Blue

Voltron Legendary Defender

Naruto

Final Fantasy XV

Harvest Moon

The Mysterious Benedict Society

The Avengers

Animal Crossing

Care Bears (despite having never actually consumed any Care Bears media to my knowledge)

The worst part is that this stupid list would be much, much, MUCH longer if I finished even a quarter of my WIPs 😭 Hell, even just my "Video Games" subfolder in my "Fanfiction" subfolder has more than 17 subfolders in it...

Y'all don't understand how many random fics my ADHD spares you from ever seeing I have no focus

Top five fics by kudos:

Ash and Emotion (Zelda) - Not surprising, I knew this was my most popular fic. It was for a ZeLink zine full of beautiful work :)

Resemblance (Naruto) - bro I always forget people really liked this one. Literally an unedited drabble I did in an hour for a "pride month drabble challenge" which I immediately abandoned. Trans rights I guess

Always Wanna Play (But You Never Wanna Lose) (Persona 3) - This one isn't surprising either, and I'm very proud of this fic so I'm quite chuffed to see it get so much attention... thanks everyone :')

The Beat of Your Heart (Zelda) - Now this one surprised me a lot. This was just a little piece for ZeLink week... Another unedited one, I literally was writing it on the toilet in church so I could get it out in time 😭

Comfort (Zelda) - Another ZeLink week piece, but I knew this one was popular. Also unedited, lmao. I was writing it on the day of my AP Calc finals and I rushed through the exam so I could have more time to work on the fic 😭 I made some Choices that year

Do you respond to comments?

I try to! But I get very anxious about it and tend to work myself into a tizzy, so I often put it off for later and then forget, haha. Then I'll go and respond to all my comments from the last few months and feel even weirder about it... T_T

What's the fic with the angstiest ending you've ever written?

Oof. That's... a hard one, haha. I've written a couple of fics without happy endings, though I typically don't. At least three fics which end on a canonical character death, for instance. But I'd say the ending which made me the most emo writing was Butter, a Mother 3 fic. It ends with Lucas, who's like 9, recently lost his mother, then lost his twin brother (and thinks it's his fault), and is now being neglected by his father, crawling into bed and crying. So yeah, pretty bleak, lmao... but at least he doesn't die I guess?

Do you write crossovers?

I do, but I haven't posted many yet. I'm not always huge on writing them, but I do think about them a lot. I was working on this one Persona 3 x Fire Emblem Awakening crossover but I lost steam on it, and now there's a really lovely crossover on AO3 with a similar premise that I was SO delighted to come across!!! Hope y'all don't mind me taking a break from linking my own work to shill for this one, hehe

Have you ever gotten hate on a fic?

Unfortunately, yes, about six times, I'd say. Even more unfortunately, most of those times happened earlier on in my fanfic writing career, and I was pretty sensitive to hate back then, so I deleted many of the relevant fics, and some of them I don't even have access to myself anymore.

Not gonna talk about the ones that are still upsetting, but I will talk about the funny examples: on a (since deleted) RWBY fic, I said in the author's note that I "wrote them as platonic, but the fic can be read as WhiteRose", and then I got a glowing comment gushing about how good the story was which ended with "but then you had to ruin it by shitting all over WhiteRose, how about you [long suicide bait]". Third most baffling comment I've ever received.

The two most baffling were on different fics, but both were making the same weird accusation??? One was on a ZeLink fic (actually, on Comfort, my fifth most kudos'ed fic of all time now), and y'know I think I'm just gonna show you the comment in question:

The other one was on a long-since deleted fic which focused on both a romantic ship, as well as a fatherly relationship between one member of the ship and the other member's father. I guess having a fatherly relationship with your father-in-law makes your boyfriend actually your brother (and therefore you can't date him anymore). IDK man people are crazy. (tbf the commenter in question thought I was setting it up so that he'd get adopted by his boyfriend's parents, which would give them more of a case, but like... that didn't happen in the fic and wasn't going to. they just guessed at a future plot development and got angry about their guess)

Do you write smut?

I do, but I've never posted any. I've posted one fic that was very suggestive, I'd even call it "NSFW" in a sense, but never anything explicit. Maybe I will in the future? We'll see if I can ever finish anything smutty, lmao.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep, I had Ultimatum, my longest chapter-fic (and by far my most popular fic in the ff.n days) stolen and posted on another site by somebody. I reported it but never checked back up to see if it got taken down.

I also feel that I've had my work plagiarized pretty damn blatantly in another fandom (I was browsing a certain AU tag and read one which contained all the exact events and sometimes word-for-word dialogue from a fic of mine, just very very slightly rewritten) but the poster had no other works and their writing was definitely extremely juvenile, so... I figured they were a dumb kid and just decided not to raise a fuss. Checked back later and they deleted it, hopefully because they realized they shouldn't do that, so I figure there's no need to start shit over it. Honestly, if that person used that experience as a jumping-off point to write their own fics, then I'm glad it happened, imitation being the highest form of flattery and all.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, though I had someone reach out to me on fanfiction dot net a long time ago and ask permission to translate An Unheard Goodbye, which was super exciting! I agreed, but I don't believe they ever got around to it, or if they did, they never posted it. Still very flattering, and I think about that a lot, hehe.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

HOW COULD I POSSIBLY ANSWER THIS. UM. UM UH. UHHH UM UH I. UM.

I'm.... gonna say Zelda/Link? I haven't written it in FOREVER but it was such a huge part of me coming into my own as a fanfic author, so I have to give it credit for that.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?

.......all of them 😭 god I have so many of these damn things. But for the prime example, I'd point to Ultimatum, an old Pokemon fic that I started in middle school. I got all the way to the climax and I feel bad leaving my readers hanging, but... at this point, if I did continue it, I would honestly have to rewrite the whole fic first just to be in line with my current understanding of the characters.

What are your writing strengths?

Y'know, I think I get character voices down extremely well in a way which elevates my dialogue and narration. That's probably the thing I'm most proud of in my own writing, at least.

What are your writing weaknesses?

BREVITY. Or the utter, glaring lack of it. I have also been known to muddy up my writing with an overabundance of A) adverbs, B) unneeded clauses tacked onto perfectly good sentences, and C) em-dashes 😭

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fics?

I think it's dope as fuck, but I currently can't really accomplish it because I'm monolingual (NOT FOR LONG IF I HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT, I'M COMING FOR YOU, JAPANESE FLUENCY!!!!). I will also say that I don't like when authors will write characters having a story-important conversation in another language, then put the translations in the end notes or something, requiring you to either read the chapter confused or else keep scrolling back down and back up.... I think even that's totally fine to do if what's being said isn't plot-relevant, though.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Naruto. I hadn't read or watched Naruto btw, I had only read other Naruto fanfics. I have spoken on this topic many times, but it remains hilarious to me. Also, so many of my old Naruto fics are lost to the Wattpad times, but I will take this opportunity to once again share a quote which I recently managed to unearth from my long-lost unsung magnum opus:

Never ever will I intentionally attain the level of comedy gold that I managed while writing completely dead serious Naruto fanfiction on Wattpad in 2012.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written so far?

See above. How could I ever top that fic.

In all seriousness, this question always makes me sweat, but I think I'm gonna say Oil, a slightly older fic from my EliHec days which I absolutely obsessed over for months before finally managing to finish. And, unlike most of the fics that I obsess over, I think the obsession actually made it come out better rather than worse, haha.

thanks again for the tag!!!! as for me, I'll tag uhh, hm, @wizard-finix @dreamedge @misty-wisp @flyfish1999 and any other AO3 writers who see this!!! (idk how many of you use AO3 and most of the MBS authors I know have probably already been tagged hehe but anybody who wants to should absolutely feel free!!!!!!!)

#Lee Speaks #tag game #god this is long. i love ranting about my writing thank you again for the tag

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forthesanityofstorytellers · 1 month

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On my worldbuilding bullshit again

NOW FEATURING MAPS!

And it's after midnight and I'm way too tired to let anxiety get the better of me and prevent me from posting so here's a worldbuilding ramble!! Settle in if you like worldbuilding rambles.

So this:

is my latest attempt at making a map of The Domain, (THE GREEN IS WATER and also plant growth stick with me for a minute) a section of the larger wold map of Elewna, here:

Which is the land of shapeshifters. There's *counts on fingers* ten overarching clans that live on this continent alone and they are:

Umatoe

Onisraeri (with four subclans: The Onishiki, the Arros, the Ooneloah and the Aoni)

Orieiifio

Sati

Ugi

Ubli

Kamare

Faroae

Deveol

Bahaat

BUT there are also two LOST clans that are aquatic in nature that disappeared a long time ago and no one knows where they went which is a given really seeing as how Elewna is an ice planet so where the hell did they go? No one knows, that's why it's a mystery. It's even more of a mystery how they came to be in the first place, but let's not talk about that right now *laughs in worldbuilding hysterics* BUT ANYWAY none of those are the ones Imma focus on right now simply because they don't live on The Domain (the original opening map); that honor belongs to these guys - The Umatoe!!

(Early work in where I decided to take my cat and my mom's cat and play with forms)

Which, yeah. Essentially to get to an Umatoe you start with a giant (like maybe 7/8' tall) feline that can stand upright. Add in a fin around the tail that can stretch and shrink, a neck pouch that can hold extra oxygen, and variously-sized tusks, and you got yourself an Umatoe. They have a lore about how one of the early Umatoe's participated in a race with the elemental gods and the gods cheated, but the Umatoe still won because she ripped the fins and the neck-pouch from the gods' bodies and attached them to herself, using them to swim faster than the boats the gods had created for the race and she beat them to the world's end and then demanded freedom for all her kind to live without the gods' interference. One of the gods (oh right, did I mention that Elewna exists in a Polythesitic universe where there are actually two different levels of elemental gods, one of which being the ones that the Elewnai have stories about interacting with called Atmu, and the giant creator-gods which are called Masu which are essentially giant Space Dragons) decided that the Umatoe was correct in her demand and so granted her request while at the same time letting her keep her stolen bits. And that's why the Umatoe believe they were born with an affinity to water and the bodily accessories to match.

ANYWAY.

To the map; Elewna works on an opposite geothermal principal as ours. The higher you go and further from the ice core you get, the warmer it is and vice-versa. They don't have a whole lot of moving storms outside of the mountains so far as I've got so far, but the cluster that's at the top right of the map? All clouds. (AND I MADE THIS WHILE THINKING OF THE RAIN SHADOW but I may not have gotten it completely right, still working on my understanding of the thing, THANKS TUMBLR) That's possibly the highest mountain range on the entirety of the planet (The larger world map doesn't agree yet because I haven't changed it yet, but trust me it's Like That) and everything slopes down from there. So the big greenish looking thing is essentially one of the only spots on the world that is all free-flowing water as it's from the clouds, the storms, and it's high enough to not get frozen over. The mountains around it act like a big bowl so far as I can tell, keeping most of it stopped up with exception to the mountains at the very bottom, where the rivers start to form and sort of give freshwater for the rest of the territory of the Umatoe. Which means the Umatoe are one of the only clans to have actual fresh free-flowing water on the whole of the ice planet. I'm still thinking of what this means in terms of biome. BUT

It also means that the Umatoe culture evolved building things on mountainsides and cities that float. They're very well adapted to their environment, which is a huge mountain pool at the top and slick ice at the very bottom because it's close enough to the lower zones to have started to freeze over but is still high enough that it's more like foggy cold sludge than anything else. AND THEY STILL SWIM IN IT SOMETIMES BECAUSE THEY ARE BEASTS!!!!

Anyway

I think I'm running out of ramble steam, so here. Have a poem of the race against the gods in their own language because yes I conlanged because I'm insane with translations under each section.

Mauhr-Ro-Mauha, Raistr, Sloa;bolsro Raistr;Punaek Hapro Ain;canani

Uma believe that song and music carry more than words can say They carry out beyond sight, and speak to the heart without knowing

Nheiohmauhr osc Naioh-Ro-Rahisc-Ro-Iea-Ro-Utaiar Niknipa-Ro-Acranipa Atmuad;chaakt kabnikni Bic;naniorapa Utran;Padu-naheakt Bic Rahspr;atmukaac-kabicni

We sing of the AllMother, a song of freedom, of journey, of skill and fireceness. She tricked and stole from Atmu wanting to trick her She beat the ones who made her She befriended the honorable Padu Won the race they set up to lose

Iscipa, raha;naehempra Atnabo-Ro-Boioh, urypa, atmuad Aiakbioh, kabliocalu;loiotpra Aiakbioh, kabasiahac;Iohnirahu Aiakbioh, kabracicca;micalu

Walked a path through the mountain Tore fins and breath from the Atmu to win Was the first to swim through the water Was the first to reach World’s End Was the first to come back to home

Rahspr Paruospa Liocalunai, Umatoe Atmunaini;bolsni Kabumtoaiako, Umatoe Liocalu

Her race was gifted Uma allowed to swim free No more Atmu control Uma swim to their own destiny

#worldbuilding #fantasy worldbuilding #fantasy world #my world #fantasy writing #world building #fantasy races #late night ramblings #I am tired so anxiety-based defesnses that keep me from babbling are donw #GOGOGO #quick ask me questions so I have to answer them #Also if you made it to the end congrats and I love you #thank you for coming to my ted talk

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taffywabbit · 23 days

Note

Favorite blorbo?

hmmmm... I haven't had a LOT of blorbos I've been particularly fixated on recently but I am always and forever at least mildly fixated on the narrative themes that surround BotW Link (and by extension Zelda, who kinda helps put his whole deal in perspective through her own struggles with her dad and her role as the princess).

I've realized in the past year that I have kind of an obsession with impostors and doppelgangers and the struggle of a character trying to pretend to be someone else who they don't fully understand or identify with, and the way BotW plays with that through the whole amnesia angle is always really interesting to me. like here's a guy who was supposed to be an unstoppable badass 100 years ago, was basically killed, and then suddenly revived with no firsthand memories of his past heroics or relationships. nearly everything he learns about himself is through the external lens of other people's stories, so he can't really tell how his past self felt about the pressure he was under. and yet, because he is essentially a fresh new person in the same body, people who recognize Link still expect him to live up to that standard and pick up his heroic quest where he left off a century ago. he finds himself in the unique position of living in his OWN shadow, and it makes him a really interesting stand-in for the player (who ALSO only learns about Link's pre-amnesia life via scattered short flashbacks and the words of strangers, and is left to decide how much of that reputation they actually care about).

there's a scene in one of the memory cutscenes where Zelda asks Link (heavily paraphrased probably, it's been a while) if he would've chosen a different path for himself, had he not been expected since childhood to become a famous knight like his dad. and I like to think about how badly that memory would mess with post-Calamity Link's head if he was stressed, or tired, or scared, or depressed when it resurfaced. it's been 100 years, nearly everyone he knew before is dead, and as far as most people are concerned he's dead too. if he wants - if the PLAYER wants - Link could just fuck off to some remote corner of Hyrule and build himself a house and live a quiet life, leaving the heroics to someone else. the world seems pretty fuckin doomed regardless and he already failed once, so it wouldn't be that hard to choose a different path this time and try to enjoy the second chance he's been given. and in a sense, if you don't finish the game, or if you spend a hundred hours piddling around cooking fish and chasing dragons and practicing rock-climbing, that IS kinda just what happens. the player is just as free to refuse the call as Link is. the point where YOU decide that the role of the pre-Calamity hero is a role worth stepping into, is the same moment he puts aside any personal fears and misgivings he has, and decides that he has to try, even if these memories and stories feel like they belong to someone far more capable and courageous and difficult to kill. even if he doesn't fully remember Zelda or any of his other old friends, he decides at some point that he would LIKE to remember and claim those bonds for himself, and that this land full of strangers whose faces he doesn't recognize are worth sticking his neck out for. BotW, in spite of its shortcomings, is a game where you get to grow and learn and choose to be The Hero You Keep Hearing About right alongside Link himself, in a way that pretty much no other Zelda game allows for, and I think that's really cool! and sad! but mostly cool!

(I also think Link and Zelda both need therapy really really badly but OOPS sequel there's no time for that when we have gimmicks to introduce and storytelling mechanisms to clumsily reuse and character development to casually reset/ignore hahahaha..... 😭)

#ask #sleepycap #zelda #honorable mention goes to Ravio who is ALSO a great example of the underqualified impostor trope i love so much #but i don't think about him nearly as much or have that much to say about him unfortunately

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vivacissimx · 1 year

Note

We know Ned was opposed to killing Dany since he saw her as a child and not a threat but do you think he would he changed his mind if he had lived long enough to know she had dragons and was conquering cities? I saw an interview where the actor that plays Jon on the show said Ned would be disappointed on Jon for killing Dany and I can't help but disagree, I think Ned would be disappointed in Jon for bending the knee to a Targaryen in the first place

Thoughts?

i haven't watched the show & in general i don't like to pay too much attention to what actors say of characters they play. i'm very hesitant to participate in celebrity/stan culture where effectively some dude's opinion is given influence over mine by virtue of them being famous. i only ever talk about asoiaf, it's supplemental materials, & the creator's informing thoughts on here cause that's all i feel confident in/informed enough to speak of

that said i'm also confused by your question a bit, the Ned would be disappointed in Jon for bending the knee to a Targaryen part seems a stretch. we can walk through how i approach it:

"Daenerys Targaryen has wed some Dothraki horselord. What of it? Shall we send her a wedding gift?"

"He would say that even a million Dothraki are no threat to the realm, so long as they remain on the other side of the narrow sea," Ned replied calmly. "The barbarians have no ships. They hate and fear the open sea."

The king shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. "Perhaps. There are ships to be had in the Free Cities, though. I tell you, Ned, I do not like this marriage. There are still those in the Seven Kingdoms who call me Usurper. Do you forget how many houses fought for Targaryen in the war? They bide their time for now, but give them half a chance, they will murder me in my bed, and my sons with me. If the beggar king crosses with a Dothraki horde at his back, the traitors will join him."

"He will not cross," Ned promised. "And if by some mischance he does, we will throw him back into the sea. Once you choose a new Warden of the East—"

The king groaned. "For the last time, I will not name the Arryn boy Warden. I know the boy is your nephew, but with Targaryens climbing in bed with Dothraki, I would be mad to rest one quarter of the realm on the shoulders of a sickly child."

Ned was ready for that. "Yet we still must have a Warden of the East. If Robert Arryn will not do, name one of your brothers. Stannis proved himself at the siege of Storm's End, surely."

-AGOT, Eddard II

ned's first reaction to robert bringing up the potential threat of viserys/daenerys is complete dismissal and a sinking feeling that robert has lived in the past so long that it's now the only language he speaks. this whole conversation (which i've only excerpted) has ned continuously brushing off robert's blustering in favor of addressing a more pressing issue: the wardenship of the east, and the lannister influence over robert's court. ned's dogged practicality clashes with robert's quickness to rage

the divide there is obvious. robert is in many ways still fighting the rebellion. ned has put down his weapons and catalogued the scars. it irks him that the lannisters benefitted from treachery & dishonor, and when ned sees gregor clegane (who raped elia and killed baby aegon) in king's landing he watches the man with "disquiet," against his own explicit policy of not listening to nor judging men based on rumor (speaking of! daenerys' dragons are, of course, little more than rumor in westeros)

"Robert, I ask you, what did we rise against Aerys Targaryen for, if not to put an end to the murder of children?"

"To put an end to Targaryens!" the king growled.

"Your Grace, I never knew you to fear Rhaegar." Ned fought to keep the scorn out of his voice, and failed. "Have the years so unmanned you that you tremble at the shadow of an unborn child?"

-AGOT, Eddard VIII

i think it's clear enough by now. ned does not share robert's deep hatred of all things targaryen. he rose in rebellion because he was pushed to the brink, the murder of his father & brother among other northern noblemen by aerys, lyanna missing, the call for his and robert's head by aerys, injustice after injustice and even then, ned was fighting aerys specifically—you can listen to grrm's thoughts on the matter here if you'd like. he cites the fact that ned was "radicalized" by a "personal grievance," i.e. reluctant to conflict until the situation became personally unbearable, despite the immorality of aerys' actions pre-dating rickard/brandon's executions. ned's clashing with the lannisters is not dissimilar in that, despite his distaste for them being 14 years old, he's only moved to act when his loved ones (jon arryn/robert/bran/sansa and arya) are affected.

AGOT Bran I also comes to mind, where we get a crash course in ned's ideas of justice, ranging from theon's hostage/ward presence, to swinging the sword himself, to the conversation he has with bran about bravery and duty.

to answer your question on whether ned would change his mind about assassinating daenerys should news of dragons hatching come to him, let me bring into context ned's three dealings with potential threats he takes seriously:

first, AGOT Catelyn I, where they speak of mance rayder king beyond the wall as well as the supernatural Others, who ned immediately dismisses as a fairytale (another clue on how seriously he'd take rumors of dragons hatching):

["]The day may come when I will have no choice but to call the banners and ride north to deal with this King-beyond-the-Wall for good and all."

"Beyond the Wall?" The thought made Catelyn shudder.

Ned saw the dread on her face. "Mance Rayder is nothing for us to fear."

"There are darker things beyond the Wall." She glanced behind her at the heart tree, the pale bark and red eyes, watching, listening, thinking its long slow thoughts.

His smile was gentle. "You listen to too many of Old Nan's stories. The Others are as dead as the children of the forest, gone eight thousand years. Maester Luwin will tell you they never lived at all. No living man has ever seen one."

second, ned's growing belief that the lannisters are behind both jon arryn's death and bran's fall, and how robert would react to it:

This was the boy he had grown up with, he thought; this was the Robert Baratheon he'd known and loved. If he could prove that the Lannisters were behind the attack on Bran, prove that they had murdered Jon Arryn, this man would listen. Then Cersei would fall, and the Kingslayer with her, and if Lord Tywin dared to rouse the west, Robert would smash him as he had smashed Rhaegar Targaryen on the Trident. He could see it all so clearly.

third, ned's plan to use theon as a means of getting balon greyjoy's fleet should there be war to come:

When the door had closed behind him, Ned turned back to his wife. "Once you are home, send word to Helman Tallhart and Galbart Glover under my seal. They are to raise a hundred bowmen each and fortify Moat Cailin. Two hundred determined archers can hold the Neck against an army. Instruct Lord Manderly that he is to strengthen and repair all his defenses at White Harbor, and see that they are well manned. And from this day on, I want a careful watch kept over Theon Greyjoy. If there is war, we shall have sore need of his father's fleet."

so basically: a heavy reluctance to conflict. a deeply-held confidence in the martial power of the north to preserve itself. a miscalculation of how the recent conflict in which balon greyjoy's sons were killed or taken hostage might have permanently soured any possibility of allyship between the north & the iron islands.

so do you see that i do not think word of queen daenerys nor rumors of her dragons would necessarily move ned to any sort of proactive violence? the concept of 'swinging the sword yourself' is also one that makes me strongly disagree. ned would never agree with the idea of assassinating daenerys targaryen, or anyone really. it's not his moral code nor is it really his game

[T]he man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you would take a man's life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die.

"One day, Bran, you will be Robb's bannerman, holding a keep of your own for your brother and your king, and justice will fall to you. When that day comes, you must take no pleasure in the task, but neither must you look away. A ruler who hides behind paid executioners soon forgets what death is."

That brought a bitter twist to Ned's mouth. "Brandon. Yes. Brandon would know what to do. He always did. It was all meant for Brandon. You, Winterfell, everything. He was born to be a King's Hand and a father to queens. I never asked for this cup to pass to me."

It was all too much. For a moment Eddard Stark wanted nothing so much as to return to Winterfell, to the clean simplicity of the north, where the enemies were winter and the wildlings beyond the Wall.

i also would just pose the question of why ned would be disappointed in jon for bending the knee at a moment when the north is in dire straits, the lannisters hold power in king's landing, and winterfell is occupied by the boltons? how does this square?

daenerys coming north & displaying concern for the northern people in a direct parallel to alysanne whose visit remains fondly remembered would, i believe, be a metric ton of goodwill that jon would have to be much less adept than he is not to recognize. robb, ned's actual narrative successor, made the mistake of not allying himself with renly, remember? and keep in mind jon's relationship with northern xenophobia (against the wildlings), in the middle of descending winter/Others, during a war built on many a personal grievance of his own (deaths of ned and robb, his missing siblings, theon greyjoy's role in winterfell's usurpation) has him stuck between a rock and a hard place already.

oof this is a whole essay now, isn't it? i'll wrap it up but here's two last quotes regarding northern attitudes, to be put in context of daenerys' potential involvement there:

"Renly Baratheon is nothing to me, nor Stannis neither. Why should they rule over me and mine, from some flowery seat in Highgarden or Dorne? What do they know of the Wall or the wolfswood or the barrows of the First Men? Even their gods are wrong. The Others take the Lannisters too, I've had a bellyful of them." He reached back over his shoulder and drew his immense two-handed greatsword. "Why shouldn't we rule ourselves again? It was the dragons we married, and the dragons are all dead!"

"Wolves and women wed for life," Haggon often said. "You take one, that's a marriage. The wolf is part of you from that day on, and you're part of him. Both of you will change."

#asoiaf #asks #text #ned stark #jon snow #daenerys targaryen

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some-pers0n · 10 months

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Part of the Process

Fandom: WoF

Characters: Morrowseer, Mastermind, Battlewinner

CW: Mentions of RainWing torment and torturing (what fun!!)

Summary: Mastermind's just finished up with some work on a project, so he's dragged along Morrowseer to present to Queen Battlewinner.

Word Count: 2.2K

A/N: Oh. Ohoho. Did you think that one post I made about wanting Mastermind to be silly was a one-off thing? How wacky! I miss writing silly characters in WoF so much. Mastermind is very near and dear to me for no reason because I'm completely altered his personality now. He's such a jerk (I love him). I want to rewrite his introduction scene in TDS as well...

It was a rarity nowadays for Morrowseer to drop by and visit Queen Battlewinner. One may chalk it up to how it was quite difficult to get her to speak, considering how she's been submerged in the same vat of lava for decades now, but Morrowseer found himself...busier these days. Between having to assist Nautilus with the Talons of Peace and joining hunting parties to feed the starving populous, it's been a lot. He almost envied his queen. All she had to do was sit there in a pool of molten rock and spout vague three-word orders from time to time.

Regardless, envy is for those who aren't strong enough to do better, and Morrowseer was no weak dragon. The Dragonet Prophecy plan was working. Word from the guardians told them that their precious harbingers of peace were healthy. The stern and haughty rambles from Kestrel about their physical training were a bit much though. That dragon got on his nerves a lot. Thank the moons he had the idea of shoving her into a cave for all of time.

However, the false prophecy was the only part of this plan. No, their grand return to the continent would include an invasion. While the others tried to downplay it, calling it a "takeover" or an "occupying space", there was no question that they were planning for battle.

They were going to take the Rainforest Kingdom for themselves.

The tunnels that the betraying animus made for them once upon a time showed Morrowseer how much they suffered. While the NightWings rotted and withered away from disease and hunger, the RainWings carelessly played with their food. They had enough fruit to spare the wildlife! They would laugh and dance in the treetops and breathe in their fresh, luscious air. Sometimes when life grew too stressful, Morrowseer would risk everything to stand at the edge of the tunnels and breathe in that blissful, glorious air of the tropical forest.

He needed it. The whole tribe needed it. They deserved it after thousands of years of suffering and torture on this decaying island.

But, they needed a plan. RainWings are unfortunately annoying to handle. While the rest of the continent forgot, the NightWings remembered the days when they were feared. When the rainforest dragons would be used as monsters to scare the dragonets, for their deathly venom and ability to disappear into the shadows were their greatest strength. It would be foolish to go running into their domain, even if they've been reduced to half-minded pacifists.

Yet, they figured out a solution. What was it? Well-

"Uhh, excuse me, Morrowseer?" a tenor voice rang in his ears. Morrowseer could feel his associate tapping his scales impatiently. "Are you done brooding by any chance? You've been staring at the entrance for ages. I haven't got all day."

His eyes glanced over to see a smaller NightWing standing beside him. His round glasses sat crooked on his snout, enlarging his dark green eyes. He fidgeted with his scrolls and blueprints in his claws, scowling.

"I suppose I am. Thank you for interrupting me."

"You're very welcome!" It was hard to tell if he picked up on Morrowseer's sarcastic quip or not. "Now then, let's move on. I need to get back to my work."

"Your work," Morrowseer said. "Your work involves you staring at dragons trapped in cages. You do not ever leave your lab unless I drag you out. Half the time when I come and check in on you, you are just sitting there and laughing to yourself while writing incomprehensible notes."

"Research! All research! Trust me, the scholars of the mainland would kill for what I've learned about these dragons. It's all a part of the process."

"Including having a RainWing run on a treadmill for nine hours while threatening to kill them if they don't?"

"That is precisely it, my friend," he said with a smile.

Morrowseer felt his joints stiffen from that mere sentence. He didn't care to be called a friend by this dragon. Their relationship was more one of...forced compliance. Mastermind on the other talon believed it to be more friendly than it truly was. Only natural. Morrowseer is the only dragon who talks to him.

"Now, let's move on. I don't want to be kept waiting. Time is valuable. A minute wasted is a minute you'll never get back."

"You can wait, Mastermind. It wouldn't kill you to learn the value of patience." He unpinned a corner of the map before then, lifting it up. Behind it was not a rock wall, but a tunnel large enough for both of them to comfortably fit through.

"Out of the way." He pushed past Morrowseer, scampering into the tunnel. Irritation flared up in him and he was ready to speak, but he swallowed his words. Anything he said would turn into an argument. Mastermind could never possibly be wrong or inconsiderate.

He trailed after him. As they continued, their pathway only grew smaller and smaller. Finally, a sharp curve. Mastermind trotted over to it, his talons clicking against the floor. "Finally! Took us long enough."

It was a large and spacious room made of marble, streaks of obsidian black flowing through it. It was unbearably hot, with half of the room being floor and the other half being a massive pool of lava.

"I trust you told Battlewinner that we would be here by now."

"I did tell our queen that, yes." He checked Mastermind in the side. "Show some respect for her as well."

He scoffed. "If it makes you happy."

"It's so that you don't end up dead. I wouldn't go around insulting the flaming dragon that can drag you into your scorching and agonizing death."

"Eh, whatever. I don't care." He shrugged. "Besides, she knows I'm the most valuable dragon on this island. Without me, the whole operation would fail."

"Is that what you tell yourself?" He snorted.

"It's true though, you simply don't want to admit that you're not the only one with some power here." He straightened his neck, trying to look as tall as possible.

"Bold words coming from you." Morrowseer snapped. "If you had any sense of decency, you'd know when to shut your trap-" Before he could finish his sentence, the sound of rumbling and bubbling came before them.

The lava twisted and shifted before a pair of claws shot out of it, grabbing onto the ledge. The lava splattered and sprayed, some coming dangerously close to Morrowseer. Moments later, the head of a large NightWing breached the surface, steam and smoke pouring from every scale. She opened her mouth, frigid cold air fuming out. Then, her eyes opened. A dark black with a piercing blue glow that could only be described as the embodiment of frost.

"Ah, pleased to see you, my queen." Mastermind dramatically bowed, shooting Morrowseer a cocky look upon uttering those words.

"Enough with that..." Battlewinner hissed, her voice rough and scratchy, like the bellows of a horn before battle.

He blinked. "Hm, as you wish. Whatever happened to politeness and greeting your queen? To valour and respect and treating your ruler with-"

"Enough!" Battlewinner snarled, her claws scraping the floor. "I grow tired of your voice very...very quickly, scholar..."

"It would be more accurate to call me a scientist, but regardless-" He smirked, "-at least I'm the one who showed honour and respect to our glorious queen."

"Queen Battlewinner does not and should not feel obligated to give you any more attention than you deserve, especially over something as idiotic as bowing and spewing empty praises. If you want to find someone who'll listen to you spout nonsense and arrogance, you should look for the dragon you see when staring into a mirror; they're the only one who can stand to be around you," Morrowseer said.

"Is that what you really think of me? Eugh, to think I have to work with you..."

"Yes, how terrible for you."

"Silence!" Battlewinner growled. "Both of you..." Her eyes turned towards Mastermind, her head following suit. "Explain yourself... What news have you brought before me?"

"Finally! I have been preparing this all week. I believe you'll finally come around to appreciate the work I've done to support our plan."

"My plan." Morrowseer corrected. "Or rather the plan Queen Battlewinner and I made. You have no part in this. Don't pretend you're some great contributor, for your own sake."

The corners of Mastermind's mouth tightened. "Oh, please." He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I've drawn up a plan. I would've brought more to show, but none of the RainWings felt like accompanying me. They just sat there dejectedly or tried to claw my eyes out, screaming obscenities and madness." He giggled. "Ah, what fun!"

"Make it quick..." Battlewinner rasped. "I don't have all day..."

Mastermind exhaled. "Fine. I can make do with that." He pulled out some scrollpaper, clearing his throat. "So, I've been experimenting a bit. I recall our previous conversation. You told me that you wanted a way to join us on land. Reasonable to want to walk amongst your citizens on the land you've fought so hard to rightfully claim. However, due to your- ahem- situation, it's a bit difficult to do so. I've spent weeks and weeks of countless nights, having to listen to the perpetual wailing of those RainWings. Do you know what it's like? It's enjoyable in the daytime, but at night it's quite annoying-"

"I said make it quick."

He snorted. "Alright. Fine." He presented the paper to Battlewinner. "I've been drafting a suit of armour. A light enough design for you to comfortably walk around in, but with enough space between the plates for one to pour fresh lava to keep you from dying." He pushed up his glasses. "Enough of an explanation to hold you over?"

Battlewinner stayed quiet for a second. "...you're certain it wouldn't kill me?.."

"Oh, definitely. I mean, what kind of royal scientist would I be? To kill my own queen by tricking her?" He laughed, pushing Morrowseer in the side. "Funny, isn't it?"

"The idea of you murdering our tribe's queen isn't exactly what I would call 'humour'."

"No fun. Neither of you. Don't know how to take a joke." He looked towards his queen, who was submerged in boiling hot lava and glaring at him with murderous intent. "But, back to the topic. I'm still working out some of the kinks in order to get a proper design that won't let the lava bleed through and kill you, but the idea is solid enough. Lava is extremely dense. By my calculations, it's practically three times more dense than water. There should be enough room between the plates and your scales for as much lava as is necessary to keep you alive as well as to let you move around freely. Perhaps even fly! Although, it'll take quite a lot of testing."

"How long will this take?..."

"Well, let's see." Mastermind held his talons to his chin. "Combined with the materials and...no, carry the fourteen...adding on that I'm dying of seven afflictions...hm, yes! My prediction is that I will complete a prototype version in less than two weeks."

"I need a better answer than that, scholar..." she grumbled. "I need a final product. I need it now. I need armour to protect me from venom. I need to walk among my dragons once more. I need to lead them into battle and take what's OURS-" Battlewinner cut herself off, going into a coughing fit. She quickly submerged under the lava once more.

"Uhh...she alright?"

"Yes. She tends to get...ramped up. It speeds up the process of the frostbreath. Too much and she needs to warm her body once again."

"Oh, thank the moons. I believed she was furious at me."

"She definitely is annoyed by you."

"Hm. Don't care though." He shrugged. "This is who I am. If anybody doesn't fit it appealing, it's their issue."

"Yes, it really is our issue that you go around talking like an idiot with no self-awareness or humility." Morrowseer glanced at him. "When was the last time you had a dragon nearly kill you? Remind me again. I think it's been far too long since the last time someone had put you in your place."

Mastermind chuckled. "I didn't know you were capable of such bold words! Ah, but I do understand. The wisest dragons shouldn't need to bother themselves with such brutality though. It's much...simpler, fighting and war. Doesn't require half a brain to use your fire and claws. It must be why you're in charge of that department."

"You..." Morrowseer's claws tensed. Before he could get another word out, Battlewinner came rising from the lava once more.

"I accept your proposal, Mastermind..." she said. "I expect you to show me progress soon..." Without saying anything else, she dipped back into the pool.

"She said yes! Aha!! I knew she would!" He laughed. "It's truly a fool-proof plan. I would start to question the leadership and intelligence of her if she had refused." He turned around. "Now! I must return to my lab. I have a suit of armour to build. Finally, something other to do other than poke and prod the RainWings. It's invigorating, but tiring after a while, no?"

"Yes, it gets exhausting to watch the torment of a dragon."

"It does! You get it."

"I was being sarcastic."

"...oh."

#wings of fire #wof #somepersonswriting #mastermind wof #morrowseer wof #battlewinner wof #wof fanfic #SP-writing

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she-who-fights-and-writes · 2 months

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WIP Questionnaire ±2

I was tagged by @rjcopeseethemald! I haven't done one of these in a while and really enjoyed the questions here, so I decided I'd give it a go for my wip: Wings of Faith!

Original from @illarian-rambling.

If you want to know more about Wings of Faith, check out my post here!

RULES: 1. Answer as few or as many of the following questions as you’d like! 2. In passing the tag along to others, you can add one question of your own, or replace an existing question.

This art is a bit old but it's the last time I've drawn everyone all together haha

1. What was the first part of your wip that you created?

Surprisingly enough, Emmie (a main character, but not the protagonist) is the first part of my wip that I created (See the red girl on the top left). She was the protagonist of the very first book I wrote in fifth grade, and I wanted to pay homage to that work by including her. However, she's changed a LOT since then (even her name!), and the only remaining carry-over is the red streak in her hair.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Intro song: "Run to the Devil" by Dragonwyck or "(Don't Fear) The Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult. Outro song: "It Will Come Back" or "Francesca" by Hozier Instrumental: "Dragonlord Placidusax" from the Elden Ring Soundtrack or "Danse Macabre" by The Oh Hellos

3. Who are your favorite characters you’ve made? Why?

Andrew, my protagonist, is by far my favorite character. Writing from the POV of an incredibly sensitive, incredibly traumatized person (who feels things very deeply), while outwardly projecting a cruel and defensive facade is... *chef's kiss* Otherwise, I'd have to say Emmie. She is a very layered and multifaceted character with an incredibly important role to play in the story, and her kindness is refreshing amid a mostly hardened cast of characters.

4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?

Six of Crows fans

Dante's Inferno fans who don't mind me bending the lore a bit

Fellow ex-Catholics

Fans of Hozier's "Unreal Unearth" album

Supernatural fans into the "corrupted angel x man struggling for redemption" dynamic

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?

Keeping the facts straight. This has been a 10+ year project and sometimes I forget the revisions I've made, and accidentally cut out important details...

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

Yes! Rimfaxe is a wraith, aka a shapeshifting shadow monster that takes the form of the things he's killed and eaten. (See the top left of the art above!) Emmie stole him from the government and now he's basically her kid.

7. How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

They mostly walk (or fly on Rimfaxe)! Because Hell has a ceiling, the authorities restrict car transport to government officials ONLY to keep down emissions.

8. What part of your wip are you working on rn?

A giant, chapter-long fight scene that I've been working on for a literal year. It's TORTURE. Can't explain much else because of spoilers haha.

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?

The main romance is an mlm enemies-to-friends-to-lovers angel x demon pairing! (Angel x demon pairings where they're both assholes>>>>>) Also I feel like there's been a void in lore-focused media dealing with angels and demons, and I'm hoping Wings of Faith will fill that void!

10. What are your hopes for your wip?

That I get it done after 10+ years... and that people will like it :')

11. (Added by rjcopeseethemald) What pieces of media have been the most inspiring to you for this wip?

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

The Inferno by Dante Alighieri

Hozier's "Unreal Unearth" album

Adding a Question 12: Is there a part of your wip you wish that you could change, but it's too late to go back now?

I don't want to bother anyone by tagging them directly, so I tag anyone who sees this post and wants to do it! Blanks below.

What was the first part of your wip that you created?

If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Who are your favourite characters you’ve made? Why?

What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?

What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?

Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

What part of your wip are you working on rn?

What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?

What are your hopes for your wip?

What pieces of media have been the most inspiring to you for this WIP?

#long post #tag game #writing tag game #writeblr #booklr #writing #writers #wings of faith #wof #maddytalks #oc

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