#'that's not my daughter. that's a real nug'

[ndostairlyrium]

Funeral girl AU in which Lav is the social media manager of a funeral home, posting silly memes about death on Facebook, mass producing coffin/gravestone-shaped chocolate for every festivity, and is just very annoying online with death related puns

Somewhere in Cullen's apartment there's an old school poster of Nevarra's necropolis that says "It's never too late to fall in love. Or to fall in general." There's a "thinking of you" scribble behind it, because it was originally a gift for Cassandra that she recycled due to obvious reasons. So now it's there, along with a big collection of tombstone keychans and valentine's inspired chocolates with "see ya (on the other side)" written on them in old english font

#tw: death #ankh #we stan a supportive boyfriend #also every future au in my head has a setting similar to bright (the movie) like #futuristic fantasy but keep it contemporary #a la coffee talk too #coffe talk was such a lovely game omg #but yeah the girl is an online celebrity and nobody knows it because smm never get enough credits for what they do #'why is that lavellan girl always giving out creepy chocolates from last easter at halloween??' #idk ma'am why is your daughter dressed as a nug that's offensive #'that's not my daughter. that's a real nug' #oh. #we have caskets for those too #camera pans to a very silly casket shaped like a nug (wodden ears included) #I'm having ideas aaaa on top of having other ideas aaaaaaaa I don't have the time AAAAAAAAAAA #spritz is kicking in #ogni riferimento al social media manager di taffo è puramente casuale ahem

[wisteriawritings]

To Start Anew

Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins

Ship: F!Aeducan x Gorim

Warnings: None

Genre: Angst

WC: 1933

Blurb: After the ultimate betrayal, Terra Aeducan has been exiled to the deep roads. Through extraordinary circumstances, she fights her way to the surface and becomes Thedas’s last hope against the coming blight. However, during her journey she must deal with painful truths about her family, her life back in Orzammar, and what her future may be.

They had only just arrived in Denerim. Terra Aeducan, with Alistair, Morrigan, and an affectionate Mabari in tow, had come in search of Andraste’s ashes. The hunt for allies against the oncoming blight had hardly begun, yet they were all bone tired. It was the exhaustion that led her to believe that she was imagining things. That Gorim’s sweet, warm voice was only in her mind. Even so, the sound pulled her towards the center of town, like a chain wrapped around her middle was dragging her forwards.

“Are you alright?” Alistair asked, seeing the color had drained from her face.

“I just… I’m going to step away for a bit. I’ll meet you at the inn, yeah?”

Alistair nodded, though reluctantly. Alistair was tooth-rottingly sweet and Terra tried to summon the best smile she could to set him at ease and send him away. He was becoming a quick and dear friend to her, and she didn’t want him to see her in what seemed to be a lapse in sanity.

“Dwarven crafts!”

There it was again. Terra, her spine now stiff as stone, hurried away and through the bustling streets, following the voice. Dwarven crafts? It could be anyone though. Any number of low-born Orzammar men who left for the surface could be in town. It wasn’t uncommon, and neither was the accent. It probably wasn’t him, wouldn’t be him, couldn’t be him. She rounded the corner and in the square she saw him

Terra’s hands tremored. Words like “I missed you,” “I found you,” and “thank the fucking stone,” all caught in her throat. Her hands grasped at it desperately, trying to free them. Because there he was. Just a few yards away stood her best friend and the man she loved: Gorim.

She tried to call out his name, but only pitiful, strangled noises escaped her lips. But he saw her. His face – it was tanner now; it had finally seen the sun – lit up in shock, disbelief, joy. All the things she felt were reflected back to her. Her throat was still sealed shut, but her feet started moving. Suddenly she was running, running faster than she had ever run, straight into arms that opened wide at the sight of her. Solid, strong arms that knew the curve and the shape of her body so well. Arms that slid into their place so easily, it was like slipping on a pair of gloves. For the first time since she left Orzammar, her feet felt firmly planted on the ground. She was finally rooted to the earth the way she used to be, and the sky wasn’t threatening to swallow her whole anymore.

For a few blissful seconds, the Blight was far away, and Bhelen never betrayed her. With tearful eyes, Gorim studied her face with an intensity that felt like he was boring into her soul. He looked as if he were taking inventory of her features, ensuring that each one was accounted for and just as he remembered them. “I knew you would make it out. I never stopped believing,” he said softly. Suddenly his face changed, lighting up as if he were remembering something.

“I have something for you.” He bent down to a chest that lay under the table. After a few moments of rummaging, he produced a letter. “Before I left for the surface, King Endrin sent me with this. We both hoped against hope that I would find you up here.”

Terra’s heart, which was already pounding, somehow beat even harder at these words. “Father? How is he?” The thought of seeing her father again filled her with so much joy and longing she could hardly stand it. She felt like her heart was swelling so large it was pressing against her ribs.

“Oh, my lady…I’m so sorry,” Gorim said, in a voice so sad and soft it sent bolts of fear down Terra’s spine. But she knew what those words meant. The pressure in her chest deepened and sunk to reach down into her stomach too. She felt faint.

“If a man can die of a broken heart… King Endrin did.”

“But what happened to him?” She asked, trying to hold back the tears. Gorim hesitated, but Terra’s hard look of pain and determination gave him the permission he needed to part with the grisly details. “After Trian’s death-…no, murder, Endrin was stricken with too much grief and confusion to see that Bhelan had constructed it all. It didn’t take long for him to find his mind again, but by then it was already too late. You were already locked in the deep roads. That’s why it all happened so quickly. That bastard Bhelen knew he had to dispose of you before the shock of it all wore off.” Gorim looked at his feet and took a long, shaky breath before continuing. “It was like he just… wasted away. He couldn’t go on living, like he was a ghost.”

Terra squeezed his hand. She focused on that feeling; homed in on the way he callouses rubbed against the palm of her hand. It was the only tangible thing keeping her anchored to reality. Gorim looked at her for a reassurance that she wanted him to continue. She nodded grimly. She was sick to her stomach, but she had to know the whole story. It was her duty as a daughter and as an Aeducan.

“When he called me to him, just before I left… the room stank of decay. It was as if he had already been long dead. He was already a corpse, just waiting for his time to return to the stone. All he could talk about was you.” His other hand took hold of her shoulder, steadying her. She hadn’t even realized she was swaying. “Terra, he sent me with more than just a letter.”

Gorim fished in his pocket and took out a worn velvet purse. Among the coins glinted a chunk of golden metal. Terra blinked her tears away and saw that no, it wasn’t a nugget. It was the Aeducan signet ring. Trian’s ring.

He gently placed it in her hand and folded it into a fist.

“He loved you, Terra. That nug-fucker Bhelen, he’s not a real Aeducan. You’re the true last heir, and your father knew it. You deserve this, and no one else. He made that much clear.”

The ring felt heavy in her hand, like she held all of Orzammar in her palm. In a way, she supposed, she did. But she felt that she could bear it as long as Gorim held her other hand.

“I’m just so glad I found you. Thank the stone, thank the stone…” Terra drew herself closer to him, ready to step back into his embrace and find his lips. But a look she couldn’t quite decipher crossed his face, and he took a step back.

“My lady, there’s something else I should tell you. I’ve, well… I’ve found a life on the surface. A blacksmith’s daughter; we’re expecting our first. She’s… she’s lovely and…” Gorim trailed off, not knowing how to continue.

The world seemed to go still around her. Her heart, which had been thumping loudly in her ears just moments before, fell quiet. A few seconds passed, but they felt like centuries.

“I don’t understand…” Terra’s voice quivered, and she hated herself for it. “You said you’ve been waiting for me.”

Gorim’s face flushed red and he looked down at his feet. “I have been, of course. But… well…” Gorim stammered, his shoulders slumped. Terra thought that he looked almost like a scolded child caught stealing sweets before supper. She almost laughed at the absurdity of it. He had been in Denerim for how long? Two months now, maybe? And he still hasn’t come up with a good explanation as to how he tripped and fell into a smith’s girl, all while claiming to ‘know she had made it out’.

He mustered the courage to meet her gaze again and flushed an even deeper red. He had always been able to tell what she was thinking, as if her very mind was binded to his own. She could feel his shame radiating off of him like a sickness. He knew he had done wrong. He knew that as a knight, he had acted shamefully. And she knew it too. Some dark corner of her soul felt gratified in this, gleeful in his self-loathing. She felt the anger rising.

“So let me make sure I understand,” she began, her words already dripping in venom. “You know, or hoped, or believed or what have you, that I was alive on the surface. And you, as my second, sworn to serve and protect me until death, fucked me and whispered sweet nothings to me in Orzammar. But when you’re separated from me for two months – oh, less than that actually, since she’s already knocked up – you decided to live it up with the first surfacer you see?”

Gorim’s eyes filled with tears. “It wasn’t like that,” he said firmly, but she could hear the tremble in his voice.

“Then what was it like?”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too, but I didn’t jump in bed with a surfacer. I searched for you Gorim.”

“My lady… We never could have been together. You know that.”

All of a sudden she understood, and the tears she had been holding back came slipping across her face. It didn’t matter what happened, or what he believed. Gorim was an outcast, a surfacer. Je was stripped of his caste his family name. But Terra? To him, she was still Lady Aeducan, and she always would be. Even if they had stayed in Orzammar, if Bhelen had never betrayed them, he would still think himself beneath her. He might have loved her perhaps, but he would have walked away eventually. He could never see himself as more than her second.

She realized she had been squeezing the signet ring in her hand. She relaxed her fist and saw her house crest bored into her palm like a brand. Gorim watched her as she first tried it on her ring finger and then settled with slipping it on her thumb. Trian’s hands had been bigger than hers.

Gorim reached out to comfort her, but drew back, unsure of himself. “My lady, if I had known you were alive…”

Terra glanced back up at him scornfully. “Either you did, or you didn’t.”

He reared back as if he had been struck, but he knew he deserved it. She saw no trace of resentment in his eyes. She looked at him for a hard moment and her anger fizzled out, leaving her with nothing but a cold hollow in her stomach and the crushing weight of her loneliness. Gorim’s cheeks were wet from silent tears.

“I hope I’ll have time to meet her soon,” Terra said.

“I’d like that. My door is always open to you.”

“I love you, Gorim. I hope you’re happy,” she confessed. Her heart gave one last weak tug at what had been between them.

“The same for you.”

She immediately recognized that he had not confirmed his happiness, and Gorim saw it in her face. Before he could say anything else, she turned away to rejoin her group.

Terra glanced up at the sky, vast and unending above her. Her family crest rested upon her finger and its weight, though heavy, was a comfort to her. She had a blight to end, and she didn’t need Gorim to do it.  

#aeducan #gorim saelac #da:o #aeducan x gorim #dwarf noble #angst #orzammar #dragon age #dragon age origins #all the single ladies #F!Aeducan #female aeducan #lady aeducan

[magneticmage]

A Web of Betrayal

This is an excerpt from yet another fic I will probably never write. I have a lot of those. Anyways, enjoy!

Cw for sexism, plans of poisoning and Canon death of named characters. Also a discussion of how Orzammar's sex-based system is stupid and artifical binaries do not work in real life because nonbinary and transpeople exist. And enforcement of such a binary system hurts people who do not fit within its demands.

Valda Aeducan was lucky.

She was a princess in Orzammar. Daughter of the King and his noble Queen. Noble Caste and wealthy. Desirable and beautiful.

And yet she felt strangled in unseen webs at times for it.

She had seen her father's favoritism from a long time ago. He favored his sons, particularly his eldest two. It was not that surprising in retrospect, she supposed. Bhelen had been born from a casteless concubine-which had further soured her parents' then already-strained relationship. She had been born a woman, and thus should have inherited her mother's noble caste, not her father's royal one. But her mother had convinced the King to break from tradition for her daughter's benefit. Perhaps with the potential a future alliance of marriage could bring him.

The whole caste system was sexist, really. She had recalled the few times her cousin, Firenze, had broken down in her arms sobbing because they had not fit between their mother's noble caste and their father's casteless one since they did not wish to be male or female. Their brother, Rethan, had been assigned their mother's caste as a noble and he lived in fear for the discovery of his true self and being forced down amongst the casteless, to live in squalor and disease and refuse until he died. Both had gone off into the Deep Roads one day and neither returned. Rumors said that Rethan had escaped to the surface and Firenze had joined the Legion. But they were only rumors.

The caste system was killing them, bit by bit.

Even when one's gender did not affect things, one's caste certainly did. She was a noblewoman and was expected to be chaste and honorable. She had more bodies hidden under her stone caverns to be fed to her spiders and spilled more dwarven blood than quite a few members of the Warrior caste. She had been denied male lovers unless her father had approved of the match. Gorim was proof of that.

It rankled her. Coated her veins in venom and she was not surprised to find her growing disdain was matched with an increasing skill in actual poison and its antidotes.

She saw how Bhelen held the same doubts and frustrations. He was chided and ignored by their father, only gaining attention when he failed drastically. While she was praised for her own combat skills, it was because it was rare and often discouraged for women to become warriors due to the looming threat of broodmothers. Or so her father had explained when she had picked up her brother's sword to practice. She had batted her lashes and played on her father's soft spot as his only daughter and the family's precious jewel, to be safeguarded in Proving fights and not in true Deep Roads expeditions, when she was allowed to fight at all. She had been forced to maintain that image for years. She was as harmless as a nug as far as many nobles were concerned when really all she had been doing was weaving webs of influence and manipulating court intrigue to her family's benefit.

It had only been a matter of time before she had learned of Bhelen's ambitions. He had begun to be more reserved at family meals. But Trian was busy being groomed for heirdom and Barran-her own twin- was focused on both supporting their brother and learning the ways of war for the day he became Commander of Orzammar's armies. Whatever was left of them. No one else noticed the growing frown in their younger brother's expression. The faint hint of mockery in each laugh. The deep exhale of relief the moment he had a moment away from his brothers' shadows.

But she did.

And so she waited.

She did not strike when he took that lovely redhead as his lover. Trian had scoffed and demanded she be kept to her rooms like the dirty casteless woman she was. Barran had scowled and offered to find him a better match when he had time. Bhelen did not listen. Valda did not need to see the tender looks and small touches they hid before each parting to know how deep the affection ran. She even helped the woman by sending her gifts of food and small trinkets in passing over the years-always discreet, of course-and let her presume Bhelen had been the one to send them or whatever she wished to think of them. And her little brother did notice and gave her a questioning look between meals every once in a while after each present arrived. But she only smiled and went back to discussing the ways the various Houses were quarreling again as she cut delicately into her bronto steak.

She did not strike when she saw Bhelen begin to make moves in Dust Town. To ally with the Carta bosses to do his dirty work in exchange for some of the wealth and finer adjustments in life. Trian did not notice a few of his silver buttons went missing and blamed it on the servants as thieves. One poor girl had been beaten so badly that Valda had stepped in and offered the girl a new job instead of cleaning her brother's laundry: to make sure her spiders were fed. She had agreed and despite the healing wounds causing her some delay in being able to work, she had grown extremely adept at managing the caves and the spiders had learned not to harm the girl, even when she took a few of their eggs and venom for herself. Valda did not mind nor ask after her blatant thefts. Being a woman of any rank was hard enough when the men of the noble caste were as inconsiderate and selfish like her eldest brother.

Still she did not strike when Bhelen began to put his plans in motion. He had quietly orchestrated small quarrels between a few noble Houses, pitting them against each other in Provings to test his skills at coercing the upper classes. Barran had bested them all and drawn himself as a target after he ended the conflict through diplomacy. Their father had held a feast in celebration. Trian had all but secured Lady Helmi's daughter's affections by then, bolstering the traditionalists' favor in the Assembly despite Barran's rising own status and favor amongst the reformists and Warrior castes. Bhelen seethed over his wine that night. Until she had slipped him a note with the location of a warehouse full of food and medicine and scraps of old unused fabric and metal from her many, many gowns and armor. He had put the warehouse to use and it was empty within a fortnight, it's contents gutted and distributed amongst his followers.

He had thanked her but did not reveal his plans further.

But they both knew where the rot lay. And they both knew what measures would be needed to remove it.

Still, the entire system did not need to be torn down like he wished. Rebuilt and reconstructed, but not demolished.

So she struck at last.

It was the eve of the expedition and the feast was in full swing. Trian was complaining until his eye had wandered to some lovely noble women wishing to dance and flirt with the heir to the throne. Barran glowed with pride and swagger as he roamed the hall before disappearing with a pair noble-hunters, one on each arm. A third had been sent to Gorim's quarters and Valda did not pretend to hide her jealousy when the woman left with a smile later that night. Luckily, her handmaidens had been more than happy to help calm her anger by giving her tasks until it was time to move. She was still human, after all. She still held regrets sometimes.

If she were not who she was, she might have been able to have him. But the castes were absolute and the Assembly and her father and Harrowmont all valued tradition. Some more than others.

She was waiting alongside his concubine when Bhelen returned to his room, the two of them happily chatting about various skin and hair care regimes and the frustrations of the world's expectations with her future sister-in-law and herself. There was no doubt Bhelen would do anything for his loved ones.

And so would she.

"Sister, I....I did not expect you." He frowned and crossed his arms as he made his way across the room towards the two women.

"I know," She savored her last sip of wine for the evening before setting the glass down, "And I have a proposal, dear brother. I will be blunt since it is time we be honest to, at least, each other."

Bhelen's brows furrowed and the canny intelligence he took great pains to hide gleamed bright and open in his eyes then. "I'm listening."

"I know some of what you have struggled with these past years," She ran a finger around the rim of her glass, letting the sound breathe into the air for a moment before she continued, "Our struggles may not be the same, but we understand that our home is being destroyed by more than the darkspawn. It is being destroyed by ourselves."

Bhelen sat down across from her, gently taking Rica's hand and kissing her knuckles, "Would you mind preparing a bath for me, love? I need a moment to discuss some things with my sister."

Rica nodded and curtesied, "Course. My lady, excuse me."

Valda waved her off, "None of that, my dear. You will be Queen one day. Bow to no one but the ones you love."

Bhelen blinked in surprise and Rica smiled, as pleasant and easy-going as ever, "I will keep that in mind."

As Rica left the room, Bhelen leaned forward, fingers dipping out of view to no doubt reach for his knife sheath. "Queen, sister? Whatever gave you-"

"Honesty," She reminded him simply, "You and I both wish to change the face of Orzammar in our own way. And I believe we can help each other do that."

He leaned back and lifted his hand to stroke his beard for a moment. The gesture was so very much like her father and brothers that she had to bite back a swear. Bhelen, of course, noticed the slip in her mask and smiled, "Yes. Let's be honest, sister. Tell me how you wish to change Orzammar for the better."

"I believe you've had enough of listening to others tell you their goals, brother. " She smiled and set her hands on the table, palms up, "Tell me yours."

There was a pause as Bhelen seemed to weigh his options. Finally, he shook his head, "You will not help me. You do not have the heart for it."

"I have no more heart than you." She countered, "Our brothers are fools, my twin included. If they must be removed to ensure we get where we need to go, then so be it. That is what you planned for with that ex-warrior caste, isn't it? To move the Aeducan shield so you can set them up against each other."

He frowned, "Why would I wish them dead?"

"Because Trian does not respect you and would never change what needs to be done. Barran attempts to help but does not understand the causes of our sufferings."

"And what sufferings are those?"

Valda let her eyes drift towards the screen that separated the running water room of the bath, "You and I were not meant to be what we wish, Bhelen. Your ambition is to do better for the dwarven people, for your lover and your child."

He scowled, "You seem to know a great deal, sister. However did you come across such things?"

"People talk about interesting rumors all the time," Valda responded crisply, "Beyond that, we both know that I cannot name my sources without risking their lives, now can I?"

He chuckled and waved a hand, "You are such a spider queen, sister. If I did not know better, I would say you would much prefer the throne yourself!"

"No." She said.

There was a pregnant pause.

He arched a brow, "Truly? You could have all the power you wish. Any man you want. The Assembly would happily support you."

"The Assembly are old and do not speak for all of our people," Valda looked at her nails. The paint had chipped away a bit somewhere. "I wish to remove the caste system where it harms people. But I cannot be the one to do that."

"And why not?"

"I do not want power, Bhelen. I want people to be able to choose what they are in this world. What we Dwarves become. We cannot do that if a symbol of the old ways does that."

"Elaborate." His brows furrowed as he turned his head to the side to glance at the baths.

"Many people view me as either a copy of my mother or an extension of my brother as his twin." She smiled bitterly, "It is how I have managed to go unnoticed on my own all these years. So, no, I cannot be the one to change our people, but I can help the one who does."

Bhelen shook his head, "You want me to be King?"

"I want to help my brother," Valda corrected quietly, "Because I believe that he will do what he needs to in order to better help our people. All I ask is that I am listened to and my requests are accepted when I have them."

Bhelen met her gaze, "And what requests would you have?"

"A voice of my own to say what I wish, agency to decide things for myself be it marriage or other life prospects, and the dignity of any dwarf has been granted in your new rule."

"That's vague," He pointed out, "What will you do with these favors, if I grant them?"

"Serve our people by ensuring the old nobles do not interfere too much with your work, for one," She brushed aside her ringlets from her armored shoulders, "Ensure the casteless are fed and respected and the darkspawn driven back. Forge alliances and trade. All the same things you are already planning. And a few you haven't accounted for."

"Like?" He questioned.

"You'll find out eventually. You're smart enough, brother. And we promised honesty to each other." She held out her hand, "Now, do we have a deal?"

Bhelen glanced at her hand and seemed to think it over a moment longer. Then he clasped her forearm and they shook, "Very well, sister dear. I will do what you ask so long as you do not betray me."

#Valda Aeducan #my writing things #cw sexism #my ocs stuff #bhelen aeducan is smart and kinda hard to write so i hope i did it write?

[thebloodychampion]

Happy headcanon for all da muses // After five hundred years!

@capeshifters​

Archer has like a lot of stamina and thus has to eat a lot as well. He eats almost the same as a Grey Warden. But he also trains a lot so his bodyweight doesn’tchange that much. 

Cyrion is like in a weird relationship with his hair, he does let it grow to like a point where he either cuts of a few inches. He knows when his hair is too long when he suddenly sits on it or  birds start to nest in it.

Dreag is rather emotionally stunted because of Elgar’nan but shows emotions sometimes but it is more like an outburst.

Lia learned how to read maps and especially Deep Road maps because Loghain actually showed her how to do it.

Than is able to shoot a running dear out of a hundred yards distance. It is never about speed it is all about practice and endurance.

Sethius speaks ancient tevene sometimes to just insult people so they would just shut up. He also randomly draws mustaches on to the statue of Andraste.

Elgan is despite her rather small staturem, capable of doing some real damage with her magic, she is also not really taken serious until she summons the dead.

Diran had never in his life worn anything female despite having a rather feminine body.

Hjarrand lost his child and partner many years ago. He never talks about them and just lets them rest.

Lucius was sent to Seheron due to a missunderstanding and yet came out victorious and became a magister.

Etienne opened the brothel to help escaped elven servants and people that were kicked out by their family. He took in both men and women, no matter the race or age.

One of Nicolas targets was actually his father and one of the reasons why he stopped being a crow. He also inheritated his father’s business as a merchant prince.

Malcolm had a secret relationship with a man in his past and rarely talks about it.

Tomey is actually the daughter of a first enchanter. (Mind you my headcanon is that elves that come from a human-elf relation, have 50% chance of looking like an elf or a human. Screw Bioware.)

Lyon nearly drowned when he was 11 years old, giving him a tremendous fear of water (deep bodies of water) and he cannot swim.

Solona had the quickest Harrowing of the entire Ferelden circle. It took her less then ten minutes to finish it.

Talar once got his horns stuck on a low hanging ceiling and had to be saved by his little sister.

Jarida sleeps with a knife under her pillow.

Jerker can actually change forms while in the fade, so he can also appear as  a woman if he decided to do so.

Kieran is capable of the hardest forms of magic due to having an old god in his soul. The old god in future Kieran was never removed by Flemeth.

Eric is constantly running around with a plush nug, since he cannot sleep alone.

Ishal doesn’t own any slaves. He doesn’t understand the concept of having them and providing for them. One of the few magisters who don’t want a slave.

Lorenzo is so rich he could buy the entire palaces of Orlais if he wanted to.

Armadiel is not opposed to blood magic if it means an end to a conflict. Hence why he sacrificed Isolde via blood magic to save Connor.

Fergus like to wear a scarf that his sister made for him when they were younger. He still owns said scarf.

#muse things #dragon age muses #capeshifters

[i-drink-and-i-write-fics]

Ronin

Chapter 5: Tokyo

Summary: Clint makes a decision about following Cap.

The former Avengers decided to hang out in Tokyo for a while, before continuing on their mission. Rumor had it that some of the weapons the Chitari had found their way into the black market and Nat had just the connections to find out if it were true or not. While the rest were eager to put an end to the illegal weapons trafficking, Clint seemed less enthusiastic about leaving Japan. The more time he spent with you, the more he felt a pull to stay put. Until one day Nat called him out on it.

“I think it’s time for Lucky’s walk. Let’s go, Barton.” Nat grabbed the leash off the wall as Lucky bounced around her.

Clint was in the kitchen watching you cook. “I did it last time. If I keep doing it, Lucky will try to leave on a mission with us.”

“You’re not stealing my dog, Hawkeye,” you didn’t even bother looking up to threaten him.

“Barton, it wasn’t a request.” The tone in Nat’s voice was all too familiar for Clint. He sighed and got up from the table.

“Fine. But we better not miss dinner.”

The two former SHIELD agents began to walk down the street with Lucky trying to drag them along for every sniff. Nat waited until they were a fair distance from the apartment before she started in on her long time friend.

“We leave in two days. Cap’s been itching ever since we hit day five here and he’s right, we can’t keep delaying.”

Clint sighed. “I know. And you’re both right. This is just the closest I’ve had to a vacation in a long time. Gonna miss it here.”

“You’re not coming with us,” she stated calmly.

“What?!” Clint stopped dead in his tracks. “What do you mean? Where am I going? I’m not doing house arrest with Scott, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Oh please. The only reason why Scott agreed to that was so he could see his daughter. You would do horribly under house arrest with no motivation.” She turned towards Clint. “You and I both know why you can’t come with us. It’s as plain as day. Well, to Sam, Wanda, and I it is. Steve’s too busy worrying about Sharon to really notice.”

“What’s this about, Nat?”

“Ronin. And don’t roll your eyes at me or I’ll snatch them out of your head. It’s obvious that something is brewing between you two ever since that night out for sushi when we first got here. And maybe you guys will get around to admitting it to each other if the team isn’t there every moment of the day.” Nat’s eyes softened. “It’s time for you to retire, Clint. You always wanted something beyond being an agent. Now’s your chance. Stay here with _____ and build that life.”

Clint avoided her stare and looked down at Lucky barking at a squirrel. “What makes you think she wants me?”

“You mean besides the fact that her and I grew up together and no one knows her better?” She nugged Barton with her shoulder. “Take the chance. Worse case scenario is you’re in Tokyo. On a real vacation. Just remember to keep a low profile.”

Clint snorted. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

“C’mon. Let’s get back. Dinner has to be ready by now.”

After dinner, you grabbed one of your swords and headed up to the roof to practice. Nat nodded for Clint to follow you, and he grabbed the spare sword as he made his way out the window. Two short flight of stairs later, and he was sitting on the edge of the roof watching you dance with the sword as if it were an extension of your arm. You twirled, ducked, and thrusted against imaginary enemies as the moonlight and the Tokyo skyline bathed you in a glow of white and neon light.

You finished with your blade pointed at the ground and your back to him. “So, are you just going to sit there all night or are you finally going to come over for your first lesson?”

Clint jumped, unaware you knew he was watching you. “Oh, uh yeah. Sure.”

He walked over to where you stood and pulled the sword out. You looked at him for a good minute before you sheathed yours. Clint watched as you walked over and placed your hands on his.

“No, not like that. Or the first thing you’ll do is stab yourself.” You moved to stand next to him, your body pressed against the side of his as you moved his hands into the proper position. “And loosen the grip. Squeeze any harder and you’ll lose all feeling in your fingers.”

“And if I drop it?” he turned his head to look at you, just mere inches away.

“You won’t. Now move your feet apart, putting this one behind you but to the side. There, now you’re more centered.” You took a step back to take a look at him. “Good. Now attack me.”

“What?”

“Attack me, Barton. I won’t tell you again.”

“But you haven’t taught me anything.”

“That’s your problem, not mine.” You took a few more steps back.

“Are you even going to pull your blade out?”

“No.”

Clint sighed and then lunged at you, swing the sword in a beautiful arch. You missed the blow easily and spun away.

“Again.”

He swung and this time you tripped him.

“Up!”

Over and over the two of you danced against the city lights, you never once having to pull out your sword to spar against Clint. He was getting faster and faster with his movements, but he couldn’t take you by surprise and it was beginning to frustrate him.

He tried to do a fake out maneuver, but you predicted it with ease. You grabbed his wrist, twisted it until the sword fell, then flipped him onto his back. But after all the practicing he did with Nat over the years, Clint was ready for that move. He pulled you with him and you ended up on top of him.

“Impressive, Barton. Your sword work needs practice, but you’re good on your feet. A shame we won’t have more time to practice before you leave.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“What?” You went to move off of him, but he put his hands on your waist. The touch sent a shiver up your spine and your breath became shallow.

“I’m not leaving with the team. I’m staying here.”

“Why?”

“You know why.” He moved one hand up and placed it on your cheek. “Lucky would be devastated if I left.”

“You know what, Barton?” But you never got the rest out as he pulled you down for a kiss.

“I’m staying here, in Tokyo, with you,” he mumbled against your lips.

“Guess Lucky is pretty attached to you.”

“Just Lucky?”

“Maybe his mom as well.”

“Good. Been looking for an excuse to retire.”

Chapter 6

#fanfic #fan fic #requests #request list #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #ronin #canon divergence #canon typical violence #clint barton #hawkeye #clint barton x fem!reader #fem!reader #angst

[trishvaylar]

The one thought nugging my mind right now is why would Katarina be so ardently opposed to Liz knowing that Katarina became Red even in the face of a threat posed to Liz and Agnes by Fakerina. There must be lots of reasons, but what are they...

So, to begin with, Katarina originally became Red essentially for two main reasons - to make everyone believe (all the enemies both Reymond and Katarina had at the time) that Katarina was dead and Reddington was alive and building his criminal Empire (Dom and Ilya also staged at attempt on the Fakerina's life in Belgrade); it was easier to become Red then to remain herself for Katarina. And the second reason was - a Father would be better suited to protect the Child then the Mother in the present environment.

There were many more reasons but those two psychologically should be leasted as main ones.

Now, as we have already seen in the first 5 seasons, it was easier for Red to simply let Liz think he is her Father, or Ilya (in 6 and 7th), then to simply tell her who he really is. Why is that? Why would Dembe both encourage Red to tell Liz who he is to her, but also say that "Liz may never understand what you did to Katarina"? Well, that seems to me to be easily abswered - Dembe knows the truth and being muslim he believes that Red and Katarina are two people, not one. That not just Katarina's body changed, but her soul too. She simply became Red, and stopped being Katarina, also despite that Red is Liz' Mother. Biologically and mentally that has not changed, but so many other things did. So for Red to admit to Liz that her Mother decided to become a man with her Fathers name and face and history would be to admit that Katarina died... And in spite of doing that Red took the blame - both for Reddington's demise and Katarina's...

While Liz believed him to care for her for an obscure reason, or because she thought he was her Father, or at least a man who loved her Mother and herself so much he gave up his own identity and life for them, it was acceptable, she could take it in and process it and live with it. And still Red believed that it would be dangerous for Liz to know even that because it would make her care for Red, which would mean she would jeopardize herself, as she did more then enough times already, and Red never wanted that. He believes that Parents should protect their Kids, not the other way around.

And if Liz found out Red is her Mother, it would make the connection so much more personal, and make Liz even more reckless in her desire to help Red and that is not what Red wants. He would rather die then have Liz risk herself. And that is something I believe Kate Kaplan pritty much ignored... But Dembe has a daughter and a granddaughter, he would be more fitted to understand this. And he does understand, only he has no secrets and he believes telling Liz the truth is easier then it actually is.

So, Red would not tell Liz he is her Mother to stop Liz from risking herself for him more then she already did. That for one reason. There is another - so many people already threated Red to hurt Liz, not even knowing of their real connection, but to simply gain leverage on Red. How many more would there be, ready to use Liz to get to Red or to blackmail him, if it became known to Liz herself and to someone else, that Red is her Mother? A LOT MORE! So Red keeps protecting Liz from such perspective, simply quietly agreeing with her assessment of him, either she thinks he is her Father (in a way he is, because Reddington actually was), or Ilya, or anybody really. Red would let Liz think what she will while it is not the truth.

Katarina believed that as Reddington she would pose less danger to her daughter then as herself.

Our Parents who love us and care for us are convinced that they know better what is good for us then we do. So does Katarina. But right now I believe she is mistaken. Fakerina persuaded Liz she is her Momma, and that makes Liz blind to the truth - she wants to believe Fakerina is her Mother and now she is ready to do anything to help her. But Red still says nothing. Why? Because probably he thinks it is safer for Liz to think so then to know the truth. Right now every enemy of Katarina would be hunting Fakerina. And, be the truth known now, they would be hunting Red and Liz and Agnes. Sounds sane and reasonable, yes. But it is not so. Red does not, as some Parents do, realize that Liz is in danger now. She will find out for herself that Fakerina is fake and that could really push her into darkness she never explored before. Red doesn't want it. But he is afraid to let Liz know who he is to her for reasons stated above. Only not telling Liz could lead to much more dire consequences if Liz would think, even for a while, that her Mother IS dead. So, the sooner Liz figueres out Red's true identity, the better for all involved, even Fakerina. I do believe the time is way past the point when it was safer for Liz to not know who her Mother really is.

So I do hope that, going down her dark pass, Liz will consider one thing - why would Red tell her he wants her to be his heir, explaining it by saying "you are the daughter of Katarina Rostova", if he is not Katarina Rostova. For in a family the heir to everything is the child. Inadvertently Red had ALREADY told Liz the truth, all she needs to do is make the connection. And I feel sure Masha will understand Katarina and her motives, all of them, if she herself will be forced to protect Agnes with all the means she has. Love is explained in actions more then in motives for those actions. Katarina became Red - to protect Liz, to hide, to become stronger and to assuage her own guilt. But all Liz needs to know is that her real Mother loves her very much and never stopped loving her.

Ressler may be her tiny island of calm, but Red is now her light, her way home and an example to emulate from!

#The Blacklist #Rederina #Red #Liz Keen #Agnes #The Reddington Rostova Family #Why would Katarina not want Liz to know who Red really is #Kate Kaplan #Dembe #Fakerina #Why Liz needs to figure it out soon #Parents who love us very much also make mistakes sometimes #While believing they hold our best interests at heart #Red loves Liz more then life itself #More then Katarina's life #But Red's death would destroy Liz as herself #I pray for it not to happen

[metatiki]

I have no excuse. I wanted to write crackfic so I wrote crackfic. It’s not good, but it made me laugh and that’s what I needed so I thought I’d share. Short & sweet.

---

Everybody Has to Start Somewhere

As told by Philliam! The Bard

It is said that when times are darkest, a hero will appear to save the day. They arrive on a pure white horse with flaming sword held aloft, cape billowing in the wind--preferably in slow motion to get the full effect--as they ride to the rescue of whatever malicious malcontent has dared to menace the masses. The variously sized bosoms of maidens and other, lesser known species of virgin may heave at the very mention of the hero’s name, stars filling their eyes as they dream of the moment when they will meet and fate will take its romantic course. Nobles and merchants may vie for the chance to encounter the hero, hoping to bask and benefit in their glory. These are the tales where word spreads far and wide of their magnificence and might, and where capes never tangle, swords never rust, and bears...well, there are no bears. Not in these kinds of tales, at least.

This, however, is not that sort of tale.

Nor is this a tale about a stalwart young woman who, with a face of determination, grabs her grandmother’s rusty sword from the wall and rides out on the family nag to kill the flock of darkspawn endangering her village and thusly find her way into the storied ranks of the Grey Wardens. Indeed, it isn’t even yet the tale of the servant who escapes a life of cruelty to find their fame in the shadowy cabal of the Antivan Crows, mixing contracts with conscience as they silently shape the future of Thedas by deciding who among the powerful shall live and who shall die. One might even expect it to be the tale of a clever young man who takes the pittance of an inheritance and builds it up through wit and charm into a merchant empire spanning Thedas from the tip of Rivain to the highest reaches of the Anderfels--with maybe even a corner shop or two in the Imperium.

But no. This is the tale of Harold.

His saga began like so many do, with a catastrophe such as the world had never known. In his case, it was kicked off vigorously and with an overabundance of enthusiasm when a large green explosion ripped open the sky, an explosion so monumental that it shook Thedas to its very foundation. Rifts burst into existence across the lands, demons fell from the sky, Templars and mages fought each other with no respite for--Oh, wait. They were doing that already.

All right, never mind that. The point is that these were dire times indeed. The Divine and all her retinue perished in the flames of oblivion, along with the most sacred site for the Chantry, the Temple which had cradled the ass and ashes of the most Holy Andraste for Ages upon Ages, and in the wake of the cataclysm chaos reigned. Who had done such a dastardly deed? Would the world ever be able to recover? And who would step forth to lead us into a bright new world of tomorrow?

The answer, unfortunately, was Harold.

Harold ended up at the Conclave by sheer accident--an accident which involved a nug, a golden-fleeced ram, two bears, a bucking bronto, and an entire squad of surly Fereldan farmers who wanted nothing more than to get Harold out of the beds of their sons and daughters as quickly as possible. He stumbled upon Haven because it was the end of the road to which he'd been driven, and he stayed because large amounts of people usually meant large amounts of food. One more man amidst the crowd didn’t really draw a lot of attention, so, nugwich in hand, he explored the vaunted ruins. It was a simple way to ignore more pressing questions, like what he was going to do with his life and whether or not his father would ever forgive him for the incident involving the Revered mother, the Knight-Lieutenant, and fifteen lace whips of despair.

Don’t ask. You really don’t want to know.

At any rate, after the world exploded, Harold woke up in chains, head pounding with the pain of a thousand hangovers. It was, in his own words, a ‘harsh vibe, bro’ , and it didn’t improve for some time. Accused of murder, paraded in chains for all to see, and forced to take up arms for the first time since he’d been kicked out of Templar school for herding all five hundred of Farmer Mukawk’s brontos into the armory, Harold’s future looked bleak indeed.

And then he encountered his first rift, which I shall relay using his exact words from when I spoke to him on the matter for this very saga:

And it was, like, all green and glowy shit like, whoa, and I was like, dude what is that? And then the dwarf--Varric, my man, my bro, my main dude--yelled at me about some demon or something. Totally harshing my vibe, you know? He didn’t get it back then, but we cool now, no worries. But oh yeah, then the glowy green thing made a noise like *krchow* and *bzzzt* and *zzzap* and I realized that, bro, this was a real problem, ya know? And then the bald dude--Solasbro, my Fade dude--grabbed my hand and pointed it at the green glowy thing and then it was like the sweetest ride ever! Just all this tingly shit going up my spine and out my hand and I was like, whoa, and then it kinda exploded a little and I was all like, whoa, and then there was like a burst of green light that was just completely whoa and then it was gone. So amazing, bro. Man, I had such a boner. Too bad Cass hadn’t gotten that stick out of her ass yet, though let’s be real I'd let her hit me any time. And not just with a stick, ifyouknowwhatImeanandIthinkyoudo.

All verbatim, yes. Also the hand gestures. And the facial expressions. And the--Look, let’s move on.

While Harold’s... unique command of language is literally incredible, he at least managed to persevere through to the Temple, where he met the man who would henceforth be known to the Inquisition as Cullenbro. From there, with some heroic difficulty, he dispatched the Pride Demon by serving as a very effective distraction. After all, running around a demon in circles while telling it to Just stop with the zapping already, my dude! would probably distract even the best of us.

Singed but undeterred, Harold went on to acquire his first proper title: the Herald of Andraste. It would be the first of only two, but would become the most iconic: Harold, the Herald of Andraste, whose tale will be told in this, the greatest work of Philliam! The Bard:

The Saga of the Himbo Herald!

#crackfic #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dai #himbo herald #humor #my writing #i don't know why don't ask #please share and reblog if it made you smile #thank you

[jewels2876]

Lessons Learned

A/N: this was inspired by a certain photo that came out today - you’ll see it soon enough! Clearly the photo is NOT MINE

Also this doesn’t follow canon hence....

Square filled: Roommate’s brother for @marvelfluffbingo

Pairing: Bucky x Readers

Word Count: 1820

Warnings: family shenanigans - mostly fluff

Your first day in college had been an uneventful one; you moved into a dorm room with a girl you didn’t know from Brooklyn, got your class list, and wandered around campus for the day, mapping out your new daily route. You checked out the student union center (MCDonald’s surrounded by tables, chairs, and a couple of little food stands) then the library were you stayed for the remainder of the afternoon.

You finally made your way back to your dorm room. Your roommate, Rebecca, greeted you enthusiastically. “Y/n! Oh my god, this place is crazy right?” You offered her a smile before you threw yourself on your bed.

“I didn’t see much crazy on my route, but I’m sure it will come find me,” you laughed. You turned on your right side to face Rebecca. “So… what’s your story? Why come here from New York?” You sighed. “I would kill to move to New York!”

Rebecca’s laugh filled your ears. “Ok, New York is just like any other place, just louder and more crowded. Besides, I had to escape my older brother and baby sister.” She sighed too. “I hate being the middle child.”

You sat up and grimaced. “At least you get the best of both worlds; I’m the oldest and therefore expected to be the best all the time. At least you don’t get that kind of pressure.”

Rebecca snorted. “At least you get attention! My older brother is hot and obnoxious, and my little sister is spoiled rotten. I’m the forgotten one.”

It was this conversation that forged your friendship for the next several years.

*

Graduation was just around the corner, as was your 22nd birthday. You tapped your foot impatiently in front of the changing room. “Becca! Come on! You’ve been in there forever! It can’t be that bad!”

Rebecca flung back the curtain and frowned. “This is NOT what I expected when I picked it out.” You tried to suppress your giggle; instead it came out your nose. Rebecca made a face while you tried to collect yourself. “Nice y/n, real nice!”

“Sorry!” you gasped. “I’m sorry! But clearly you cannot wear that and expect any… strike that, wear it and see what kind of guy tries to pick you up. Just don’t be surprised if it’s an undercover cop.” You started giggling again.

Rebecca came back out, dressed in her original attire, dresses thrown over her arm. “I’m done. I’ll try another store alone.” She raised an eyebrow at you, then broke into a grin. “Kidding! I’d rather have your help instead of doing this alone. Where do we go next?”

Your stomach growled in answer. “Food court.”

Twenty minutes later your philly sub was half devoured and you were still eyeing your ranch & bacon covered fries. “I don’t know if I should eat them,” you told Rebecca. 

She chuckled at your indecision. “Well, while you contemplate your stomach, I’m gonna go grab a slice of pizza. Can you watch my phone?”

“Does it do tricks?” you teased.

Her laugh made a few heads turn. “You’re such a dork! No, it doesn’t do tricks. But I’m expecting a text from my family about when they’re getting in.” She set the phone down by yours. “I’ll be back.”

You took a bite of your fries and sighed. “Damn tasty,” you chuckled to yourself. You heard a phone and looked down

Hey Bec! Think your bff would approve?

You gulped. Hot damn! You never laid eyes on Rebecca’s brother but sudden thoughts of what you wanted to do to him made your face turn scarlet, just as Rebecca sat back down. She looked at your face, then took her phone from your hand before howling. “Dude! You weren’t supposed to see THAT. Well…. Not exactly like that anyway,” AShe bit her lower lip as you struggled to regain your breath.

“Did you… did you…” you sputtered in horror, “did you tell him about ME?!”

Rebecca looked smug. “Duh! You two dorks are made for each other. I’d be stupid to let some floozy pick him up. Besides! You two getting married makes us sisters! Better you than…”

You covered your eyes with your hands amid a very frustrated groan. “Now I have to rethink my whole graduation outfit Becs!”

*

Four days later, you and Rebecca sat beside each other while the speeches dragged on. While you knew exactly where your mom and brother sat, you didn’t see your dad come in. Rebecca thought she had seen her family as well but lost them in the monstrous sea of faces. The last speech came to an end and you felt an elbow in your side.

“Wake up y/n. We are finally graduating, two years later than expected, but you know how long those speeches can be!” You both giggled as the first set of names were called. You were part of the second set, and Rebecca in the third. Seven more sets of names later and the entire class threw their mortarboards in the air with a scream.

Rebecca dragged you out of the sea of new graduates towards her family, running at her. An older gentleman grabbed her first and swung her around. Bucky stood back a bit as he smiled shyly at you. Mrs. Barnes and the youngest Barnes daughter smiled at you warmly. “You must be y/n,” Winifred Barnes extended her hand. “We’ve heard so much about you! It’s a shame you were never able to visit.”

You noticed your family approaching as well. “I wish I could have! Maybe I will someday.” Your mom reached you first and gave you a big hug. You pulled away and introduced your family. “Mom, Mrs. Barnes.”

“Winifred please!”

“Dad, this is Rebecca’s brother, James.” Your dad pulled himself up a bit while Bucky’s lopsided grin did funny things to your stomach. “Nice to meet you sir,” he said with a wink in your direction.

Rebecca pulled herself from her dad’s grip. “Y/n! This is my dad George, and this,” pulling on her sister’s hand, “is my sister Ruth.”

Your brother, never one to be ignored, piped up. “I’m Steven if anyone cares!” You rolled your eyes before you gave him a hug, then a swipe to the back to his head. “Ya nut, thanks for coming!”

Rebecca quickly took charge, rounding up the entire group and leading towards an exit. “Y/n and I picked the best restaurant around! You’re all gonna love it!” Steven and Ruth started chatting while both sets of parents started asking each other questions. Rebecca threw a smirk at you and Bucky bringing up the rear.

“So… congrats,” Bucky started with his same lopsided grin. You felt the blush on your cheeks and you licked your bottom lip. “Ready to face the big bad world now?”

You laughed. Just like that the tension shifted from awkward to comfortable. “You mean THIS isn’t the big bad world already?”

He laughed easily and nugged your shoulder with his left arm. “Nah, just wait until you have to find a real job.” You felt your heart melt a bit; Rebecca had filled you in just the night before about Bucky’s recent construction job coming to an end. 

You nudged him back with a matching grin. “Maybe I already have a real job?”

He gazed at you with an unreadable expression. “Nah, Becs would have told me ‘bout that.” His Brooklyn accent came out and you practically swooned.

“Really? And what else has Becca told you about me, besides my lack of a real job?”

His grin came back. “A lot. Apparently you’re a huge dork, love books more than buys, can’t wait to go out with the girls and celebrate your birthday. Oh and you might like space more than I do but I don't buy that last one.” He winked at you.

You laughed and tried to think of the most obscure thing you could remember. “There’s a planet where glass, actual glass, rains sideways.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you with a smirk. “I knew that. Did you know that there’s a planet made of diamonds?”

“Yes, 55 Cancri e. Did you know there’s an asteroid that actually has rings?”

“Yup, Chariklo.”

You shook your head as you approached the restaurant doors. Rebecca was holding the door, trying to usher the two of you in, muttering “Nerds,” underneath her breath.

*

You and Bucky were still sitting at the table, chatting as though you had known each other your whole lives while Rebecca, Winifred and your mom watched in amusement. “All I’m sayin’ is that I told ‘em both they were meant to be,” Rebecca bragged. Winifred patted her daughter’s hand. “Yes dear, I’m sure they’ll love hearing all about it later.” Your mom just chuckled.

“Do you think they’ll notice we’re leaving?” Ruth asked. Steven rolled his eyes. “When there’s a cute guy involved y/n can be amazingly oblivious!”

“Who’s leaving them a car?” George asked.

You rolled your eyes at the conversations around you. “Well Mr. Barnes, I think we can just walk back to our dorm; we still have to move out this weekend. I can put Bucky to work.” You kicked at Bucky under the table; he barked a laugh and kicked you back. “Ow!”

Your dad rolled his eyes and half-laughed, half-groaned. “Ok love birds, we’re getting out of here.” You stood up and gave your mom and dad, then Steven big hugs.

“Thanks for coming! I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You gave Steven a shove when he pinched your waist. “Really? I can still beat you up, ya know? Twerp.”

Winifred, George, and Ruth said their goodbyes as well. “We’ll see you tomorrow as well. Can’t have our graduate packing up with just her brother and his new girl.” Bucky blushed a bright red. Rebecca laughed at his embarrassment.

“Ok kids, I’m headed back too,” Rebecca yawned and stretched. “Do I need to put a sock on the door or something if I don’t want you hooking up on the last night with my brother?” Bucky choked on his sip of water and you let loose a bubble of giggles. “Geez Bec! Didn’t you pick up any class when you went to class?” He gave her a side eye as she laughed at him. She shook her head in answer, laughter following in her wake.

Bucky’s eyes widened at you. “You’ve had to deal with her for four years, can’t you talk some sense into her before tomorrow evening?”

Your eyes shimmered as you leaned into his space. Bucky gulped at the beautiful woman moving closer and closer; he llicked his lips in anticipation. You got just close enough and then whispered words he never thought he’d hear: “She was the first one to bring back a guy; everything I learned, I learned from your sister.”

tag list:  @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @courtmr @octo-cow52 @fenthyr   @thenormreedus @ticklikeabomb @xxloki81xx @woodworthti666 @greenarrowhead @lovely-dreamer19 @moonbeambucky @yafriendlyfangirl @after-avenging-hours @lokiandbuckyaremine @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @marvelc00kie35 @thejemersoninferno  @bitsandbobsandstuff @lokilvrr @lostinthoughtsandfeelings-blog  @theimpossibleg1rl @princess-evans-addict @stuckyfox @loricameback  @moondancewrites @halcyonrogers @writing-for-a-chance @ruckystarnes @angryschnauzerwrites @221bshrlocked @suz-123 @senoritastucky @devilbat @jpat82 @caramell0w @spookyscaryskeletonsus @theoneanna @inlovewith3 @mrs-captain-evans @crazybutconfidentaf @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @sillyboyscomicsareforgirls @shield-agent78 @mackevanstanfan80 @the-wayward-robot @renanyx @notyourtypicalrose @boldlybeardedgiver  @time-travel-bouqet @jilldsumner @breezy1415 @stuckybarton  @just-the-hiddles @writer-at-heart96 

#marvelfluffbingo2019 #Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #fluff #modern au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #marvel #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #fan fiction #bucky barnes x you

[secretsfromwholecloth]

Dragon Age: Inquisition, day 1.

You know, I actually did start the game yesterday evening. I was making good progress in the Hinterlands and was just about to leave for a jaunt to Val Royeaux when a conversation with Varric revealed that I had the wrong worldstate loaded—Anders, alive? Bethany, alive? And what's this in the codex about Alistair marrying Bryce Cousland’s daughter? *headdesk* Welp, that’s me starting over.

So, meet Avasis Adaar, dual-dagger rogue and, apparently, a good, sweet boy who wants to help. By sneaking into places and stabbing stuff. He’s good at that!

I went in with absolutely no idea what I wanted to do with this character; the Internet told me I should romance Dorian because cute, but other than that, Daiwen and Pavey were the real point of this run, Avasis is just along for the ride because I have to do something with this timeline in DAI, right? So he’s just going to have to reveal himself to me as I go.

What I got from last night’s session is that he’s quite young—my first feeling was 18ish, but I revised that to 21ish to make the romance with 30-year-old Dorian more to my taste—and that Varric is his new dad now. Congratulations, Varric. I’m sure you always wanted a son twice your height who could snap you in half with his neck. Put that in your next letter to Pavey, I’m sure she’ll have some interesting comments.

Huh, I completely missed the sequence with the fearlings chasing the Inquisitor towards Glowy Justinia in the Fade last time.

Is it just me, or is melee combat in this game absolutely horrible? Turns out the “if you right-click on something out of range, we’ll automatically walk you over to it and then do the interaction” function of DAO and DA2 was load-bearing, at least for me. Archer wasn’t really an option because there are already two of those in the party and I like Varric too much to deprive him of attention, but dear Maker do I miss my mage right now.

That said, I have now discovered the joys of using the F key rather than my extremely fiddly right mouse button for interacting with stuff, which is very nice indeed.

The Shokra-taar is the best armor available in the early game by 20 points or so. Also, Qunari are rather large. Ergo, Avasis will be spending his time at Haven pointing his nipples right into the eyes of the human and elven inhabitants. Enjoy, everyone.

“Pointing” being the appropriate term for it, as Haven is cold.

Solas is cutting quite a figure in the shibari bikini Antaam-saar, too.

What’s this in the codex about Adaar’s parents being Tal-Vashoth who left the Qun? Man, now I’m going to have a whole pile of second-generation feels. A very large pile of them.

Shut up, Roderick.

Whew, definitely got the right worldstate now. Threnn is talking about how Anora sent her to the Inquisition as a kindness to a supporter of her father, and I have the option to respond with “Loghain is a Grey Warden now.” (She referenced King Alistair last time, who exists in both timelines, hence me not catching on.)

Hello, Cullen. Hey, it’s someone whose job Avasis properly understands, rather than chalking it up to “does some magic and somewhere along the line that gets translated into a job for me to do”.

Wait, that’s an instrumental version of the Samson song playing over the cutscene of the Hinterlands being scouted.

I just saw Shokrakar’s first letter. BRB, dying.

That “Harding in Hightown” pun was pretty terrible, Varric.

Whee, the Hinterlands, fun fun fun.

I like Cullen and get ferociously protective of him for reasons I’ve gone into elsewhere, but all the same, unless there’s some supplementary material I missed, I’m not sure he’s fully reckoned with his role and degree of responsibility for events in Kirkwall. You can’t just skip that part and go straight to “I’ll just quietly be a better person now,” Cullen, it’ll just keep haunting you. I would know. (I’ll be aiming a similar lecture at Blackwall, don’t you worry, but I haven’t met him yet.)

Weird to think that Cullen has the same VA as Awakening!Anders. I can hear the similarity, but only just.

For Avasis’ part, he likes Cullen well enough, but he fell under Solas’ influence early on and will be going pro-mage.

While his predecessor rocked that beige outfit, Avasis looks frankly ridiculous in it. I’ll have to pick out something better for him when I can.

The Golden Nug is a beautiful, beautiful thing. The early game is much easier when you can use those inherited schematics to make sure you’re facing it with midgame-quality gear.

Hello, Sera. You seem fun and potentially useful. But you’re going to have to wait your turn to be in the party, because no way in hell are you coming along to Vivienne’s party.

Speaking of which, hello, Vivienne. You can handle the talking to fancy people stuff with Josephine, right?

Eeeee, got Iron Bull and Blackwall’s recruitment quests. Doing them will have to wait for tomorrow, though.

#dragon age #dragon age: inquisition #avasis adaar

[ranawaytothedas]

WIP Weds!

farI was tagged by the wonderful @faerieavalon

I am going to tag, @sasshole-for-rent , @lyrium-lavellan , @cornfedcryptid

I have two little things I am working on and have been for a couple weeks. 

Also Keep in mind these are edited or possibly even spell checked yet O.O

1. Cullen/Maeve - Oneshot - “A Letter”  - this is actually smut.... just over-glorified smut... 

Maeve’s guilt over the letter ate at her as she watch Cullen read over several passages multiple times. She assumed they were the harsher portions of the letter, and Maeve wasn’t wrong. It was unfair of her sister to assume so much about Cullen’s character after so long. Not giving any thought to how much people can and do change over the course of a decade. Slowly, Maeve reached her hand over and placed it on his arm. “She doesn’t know why you left the Templars, that you are a different man than the boy they found in the tower…” Her tone was soft, gentle and full of love as she spoke. She knew Cullen was a good man. He made bad choices, had horrible things happen to him. Yet he never used them to excuse his behavior. When ever they discussed his past, he owned his faults. It was Maeve who often tried to make excuses for him and it was something he would never allow. Always reminding her that he had free will, that no one forced him into anything.  

For a man who held himself in such low esteem, seeing someone else share the same opinion of him was far mor jarring that he expected. He had said horrible things to Morrigan. Accused of her trying to manipulate him when she had only bening trying to help him. She has every reason to feel this way, I am the monster she thinks me to be. Perhaps, all this needs to end.  As he was drawing the conclusion he glanced back at Maeve. Her face, soft and sweet. Her eyes filled with love and concern as she gazed up at him reminded him why it couldn’t. No one has looked at me like that. She loves me, Maker, why does she love me? I would die a thousand times to spare her life. Their relationship wouldn’t end, it couldn’t. Maeve was his reason for waking up each day, she was his hope for a life after all this. He wasn’t going to let her go because he was afraid, that was not the man she saw when she looked at him. Cullen held up the letter and let out a nervous laugh. “She is going to kill me..” 

“No… that’s not her way…” Maeve corrected quickly. “She may try to turn you into a rat but I promise you I won’t let her get that far.” Clearing her throat Maeve looked at her feet. “Alistair… well, he may kill you. He was with the Wardens that passed through Kirkwall during the start of the Rebellion. He had very strong opinions about how the Templars behaved. I know that you did not do anything horrible to Mages yourself, but you were Knight-Captain. He will hold you responsible. ” She muttered her eyes peering up at Cullen’s face at it drained of all it’s color. Everyone knew of the great AlistairTheron, who should have been King of Ferelden and was a fabled hero of the fifth blight. He was the last man Cullen would want to go toe to toe with over his relationship with Maeve. “But he adores me, like a little sister. I can likely talk sense into him… more than likely.” Her nervousness over the whole situation was apparent in how her voice wavier 

Cullen laughed nervously again as he turned around to face his desk. “Wonderful… oh Maker…” He exclaimed as he looked at the letter again. “I couldn’t just find a nice, uncomplicated girl… you know a baker perhaps…” He mused shaking his head, silently scolding himself for even momentarily wishing he hadn’t met Maeve. He set the letter on his desk and turned around to see the pained look on her face. His words had cut her deeper than he expected and his heart sank as he saw tears well in the corner of her eyes. 

“I am so sorry, Cullen…” She started shaking her head as she brought her hands to her mouth. He was right. He would have been infinitely better off with anyone but her. As she looked away she cursed herself for being too selfish, too much of that foolish child that Morrigan always called, to see it till he pointed it out. Her breath caught in her throat as she went to speak. Her golden eyes closed as she choked out. “I ruined everything.” Her mother’s harsh words, faded and jumbled in her memory called out to her. Nothing but a mistake. She called out harshly. You have ruined all my plans Maeve, you have cost me everything! Of all my ungrateful daughter you are the worst! Her mother was not what most would have called kind, Morrigan has shielded her from most but there were hazy memories that still cropped up any time that Maeve was feeling particularly hard on herself. Tears started to roll down her cheeks as muttered. “Mother was right…” 

2. Solas/Tamaris - Oneshot - “His Heart” - Inspired by the art that @pookyhuntress did for my loves that you can find.... here

And the whole world changed…

Solas’s words echoed in Tamaris’s mind as she stood over a large, plush bed with one tiny figure curled into a ball in the middle. Her faced was nuzzled against the soft pale yellow wool of her favorite blanket. Clutched tightly in her arms, a small pink Nug. Tamaris felt blessed she remembered in the frantic moment to grab her daughter’s favorite things because she knew there was going to be no turning back when she saw Abelas darkening her door.  The Council had not been going well and Solas always had interesting timing. 

Tamaris would have preferred not to have had the experience be so traumatic for Shivana. It was never going to be easy, leaving everything she knew. Leaving, Cullen. Shivana sobbed, so loudly they nearly got caught as they snuck back threw the Eluvian. It wasn’t until Solas had taken her from Tamaris’s arms did the child stop crying, for the moment. Change overwhelmed Shivana, who had spent most of her life in the relative confinement of Skyhold. In a few short weeks, she had traveled across a long distance, stayed in a grand place and now was someplace that was not real, but wasn’t a dream either. Solas said it was the safest place for them to be, though he had yet to explain just where they were. 

He had yet to explain quite a number of things, in fact. 

Solas had helped her settle into his rooms, or what Tamaris assumed were his rooms in the hidden estate that he did explain was the base of all his operations. Abelas and some of the other sentinels appeared to live there as well, though Solas assured her they would leave her and Shivana alone. He spent a little time helping Tamaris settle Shivana before Abelas came to tell him he was needed. Tamaris in the moment had a great deal of sympathy for Dorian and dealing with the same intrusions for Mathras. She was also reminded that her brother and Dorian were likely beside themselves, likely being to mount some half-cocked war to try and rescue her.

#wip wednesday #dragon age fanfiction #solavellan #cullen x inquisitor #tag games with friends

[bishiglomper]

My friend just scared the shit out of me!!

She posted on FB something along the line of

"[9yr? old daughter] is home. I won't be online for a few days while I sort out long term care.

Not sharing details she wants her privacy"

"LONG TERM CARE"? IS SHE PARALYZED? IN A COMA? IN HOSPICE; A FACILITY?

WHAT THE FUCK DOES LONG TERM CARE MEAN WHAT HAPPENED

So I messaged her and she tells me the child attempted suicide. But that she was ok and they were home.

That 'long term care' meant she had to go home and safety proof the house and make it so her daughter is never unsupervised.

I'm still freaking out like 'OMFG I'M SO SORRY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH' I mean I'm over here popping lorazepam with tears running down my face

And then she's like "oh we'll manage. Me and [13yr old son] did the same thing at her age.

We're going for chicky nugs now'

.......

I love my friend but. Her family is real fucked up. The poor woman has been spiraling on FB for a long time. She has to make drama.

I really did not need that panic attack. Even with the pill it's gonna take my heart an hour or two longer to go back to normal.

This was already an hour ago and an hour of palpitations really drains a person.

I really hope they have help.

[fandomn00blr]

Dread Moon, Chapter 15: Epilogue(s)

[Note: This is the whole chapter, cuz I couldn’t decide which part I liked best, and some of these will become spin-offs or more detailed one-offs. @figgypudz is real excited about Dorian, Bull, and Merrill living together sitcom-style in Kirkwall (I am, too...it’s cute!), and I have so much fluff planned for Anders and her OC Alarion, whom I rescued and adopted (stole) so they could join up with Amell and her rogue Wardens! Everyone gets a happy ending...until Trespasser.]

---

As expected, Sera and Dagna’s wedding was an unforgettable experience for everyone in attendance. Varric gifted Sera and Dagna advanced reader copies of All This Shit is Weird and asked them to help him write their own fluffy chapter about their relationship. It focused mainly on burnt cookies and red lyrium. Cassandra was terribly jealous.

After a few weeks of travelling through Ferelden, Merrill was beginning to miss Kirkwall, and Dorian was eager to see what he’d purchased. The estate ended up being better than anyone had anticipated, large enough to easily accommodate all three of them, along with all of the Chargers, should they ever wish to visit. Merrill quickly befriended all the ghosts and spirits that lingered there, and it became an important waypoint for much of Dorian’s ongoing work with Maevaris and the Lucerni, and allowed them all to easily coordinate with Fenris and Isabela in their continuing efforts to undermine the Tevinter slave trade.

Anders and Alarion found the Hero of Ferelden in the Deep Roads and actually fit in quite nicely with her rogue group of Wardens. Even Carver put aside his differences with the apostate who’d made his sister an accessory to terrorism and welcomed him like the wayward older brother he’d never had nor really ever wanted. Alarion was continually amazed by all the legendary people Anders knew from all his past adventures, including the King of Ferelden and Divine Victoria, all of whom worked within their various capacities to support Solona in her search for a ‘cure’ to the Darkspawn Taint. While Anders could barely be bothered to write to his Kirkwall friends, Solona made sure her cousin and her friends knew that he was healthy...and happy, and even sent him and Alarion on ridiculous errands that got them close enough for a quick visit every now and then.

The ‘Kirkwall Degenerates’ continued their efforts to rebuild Kirkwall into a shining example of a post-Rebellion city, welcoming of both mages and “recovering Templars,” as Hawke called them. Except Mettin. He was never seen in Kirkwall again, and rumors circulated that he had been haunted to madness by a ghost who looked like one of the young mages he’d been especially cruel to when he served in the Gallows. But Varric swore he saw someone who looked an awful lot like him distributing food to those orphaned by the Mage-Templar War on one of his 'diplomatic visits' with the King of Ferelden.

They also worked to improve the living conditions in the slums outside of Kirkwall, even dragging Dorian into the efforts to elevate the residential areas above the Chokedamp that swirled in from the surrounding marshlands, essentially building a ‘floating city’ connected by a series of bridges and platforms that even the ancient elves would’ve been proud of. Well, maybe. Merrill thought it was really neat, anyway.

Aveline and her City Guard successfully defended the city against numerous attacks from Starkhaven and from other surrounding cities who sought to take advantage of the city’s lack of a Viscount (until Hawke nominated Varric), with help from their Inquisition allies, of course. Donnic retired from the City Guard to stay home with their daughter, Leandra, who was the most doted on child in the entire city thanks to her numerous aunts and uncles. She received her first set of daggers on her third birthday from her Aunt Marian “they’re Dwarven so they’re perfect for a toddler” Hawke.

Bethany’s Kirkwall College of Magic and Enchantment became renowned for specializing in the ‘Healing Arts and Sciences.’ She welcomed mages from all schools of magic, and other non-mage experts, even including forward-thinking Chantry sisters, to serve as both teachers and students in one of the most innovative, cross-discipline medical research programs Thedas had ever seen. After receiving an anonymous donation to expand the program and build a state-of-the-art free clinic where the healers could work and learn through firsthand experience, she decided to locate it in Darktown, naming it “The Kirkwall Center for Medical Justice,” with a nod toward two of their most controversial guest lecturers. The feral cats that the clinic displaced were all neutered and allowed to roam the sewers as they pleased, which at least kept the rodent population at bay.

Leliana and Vivienne made a formidable team in Orlais, and Divine Victoria tried not to take it personally when Madame de Fer’s most loyal supporters began referring to her Left Hand as the “Iron Divine,” in contrast to Leliana, whom they referred to derisively as the “Nug Divine,” a title she eagerly reclaimed. They obviously disagreed on a number of issues, but their mutual respect and admiration, even friendship, for one another motivated them to find solutions and compromises that supported mages and strengthened the Chantry’s resolve not to fall back into its old misguided ways and abuses of power.

As promised, Evelyn began making plans for a life with Cullen outside of Skyhold and the Inquisition’s demands. They visited his sister, and he showed her what remained of his childhood home in Honnleath, and she took him home to Ostwick to meet her family. More than two years after the Inquisition’s decisive victory over Corypheus and his ‘hole in the sky,’ a letter on fancy paper, sealed by the Divine herself, came all the way from Orlais, hand-delivered by one of her own personal couriers...

---

Inquisitor Trevelyan,

The leaders of Ferelden and Orlais have requested that an Exalted Council be held at Halamshiral in order to review the activities and future pursuits of the Inquisition. Your presence, along with whatever representatives you see fit to attend, is requested, as the discussions and decisions made therein will impact you directly.

Sincerely,

Divine Victoria

---

A few minutes later, a raven arrived from the west, carrying another note written in Leliana’s chicken scratch on much more ordinary-looking stationery, bearing the Nightingale’s seal:

---

Evelyn,

By now, you should’ve received my ‘official correspondence’ regarding the Exalted Council. Forgive me if this comes as a surprise. Vivienne and I have done our best to shield you from these petty political matters as long as we could. You have allies all over Thedas, but it seems a few powerful people wish to forget what you’ve done for us all during this time of relative peace. Rumors of mysterious elven agents connected to the Inquisition haven’t helped. I’ve sent word to Josephine, Varric, Dorian, and our other ambassadors scattered about, and I’m assuming Cassandra, Cullen, and the others at Skyhold would also be willing to join you. Please bring as many supporters as you’re comfortable with...the more advocates we have, the better positioned you’ll be to decide for yourself what is to become of the Inquisition.

Take care, and try not to worry (too much),

Leliana

---

An addendum, in Vivienne’s elegant handwriting, read:

My dear...I know how you feel about the Winter Palace, but I promise the spa is one of the finest in all of Thedas, and you’ll be treated to some much-deserved rest and relaxation once all this unpleasantness has been dealt with. Don’t fret. We’ll get through this.

---

#dragon age #dread moon #my writing #writing collab #epilogue(s) #EVERYONE GETS A HAPPY ENDING FOR NOW #Inquisition #DA2 #post-Inquisition #pre-Trespasser #everyone is in this #so i feel bad tagging individual characters #long post

[dirthara-mama]

Dragon Age Questions

 I was tagged by @cullenvhenan and @gothkimmyschmidt ! Thanks babes!

Tagging: @drellvhen  @lyrium-lovesong @dalish-ish @ghostwise and @empresstress13 (no obligation, of course!)

01) Favourite game of the series?

Overall, Inquisition. The CC is pretty good, hair options notwithstanding. I think the story adds an incredible amount of lore. I actually don’t mind the open world aspect, it truly doesn’t feel any more empty that Skyrim imo.

DA2 had the most fun combat for me. Origins had a bunch of elements I like but I played it so far after it’s release that it’s always going to be visually dated in my head and not in an endearing way.

02) How did you discover Dragon Age?

My partner let me borrow some games when we first started dating, Dragon Age Origins among them. I played it, really enjoyed it, but moved on to a few other games in the stack like Fable and ME3.

The summer of 2017, I think, I saw him playing DA2 and wanted in. I tried it, didn’t like it, so he suggested Inquisition. And yeah, here we are. (I did go back and play DA2 after 1 & 3 and I liked it!)

03) How many times you’ve played the games?

DAO: 3?

DA2: 1.5

DAI: I’ve finished Trespasser twice, started a bunch of half-finished playthroughs though.

04) Favourite race to play as?

It’s fairly obvious that elves are my favorite. I feel no shame about that. They’re so damn cute.

05) Favourite class?

Rogue

06) Do you play through the games differently or do you make the same decisions each time?

I tend to make similar choices in DAI, but it’s definitely more fun to mix things up in the first two games.

07) Go-to adventuring group?

DAO: Leliana, Alistair, Shale.

DA2: Fenris, Isabela, Merrill.

DAI: Blackwall, Solas, and I usually mix it up between Dorian, Cassandra, and Sera.

08) Which of your characters did you put the most thought into?

Definitely Ayelet. I’ve spent the most time with her and her creation was in response to a character I wasn’t super happy with in the first place.

09) Favourite romance?

DAO: Alistair

DA2: Merrill’s is so so so cute.

DAI: Solas, which is no surprise to anyone.

10) Have you read any of the comics/books?

I’ve read some comics, am currently listening to the Masked Empire in audio book form but MY GOD is Weekes’s writing a slog to get through. I also have World of Thedas v2 and Hard in Hightown!

11) If you read them, which was your favourite book?

I absolutely love flipping through World of Thedas. The art, the obscure info, THE ENTIRE CHANT OF LIGHT

12) Favourite DLCs?

DAO: I’ve only played the DLC with Shale and tbh I doubt another one can top it.

DA2: Again, I’ve only played the one with Sebastian. And he’s bae anyway.

DAI: Jaws of Hakkon. The scenery is beautiful, the folks of Stone-bear Hold are gems, and the feels?? Perfection.

13) Things that annoy you.

The washed out look of DAO, and how very slow combat is.

I absolutely hate the look of elves in DA2. In Origins they barely have pointed ears, and suddenly they’re green toned, huge-eyed folks that don’t have any differentiation between their foreheads and nose bridge.

Some of the retcons on DAI are annoying. 3 mages per Dalish clan? That’s a no from me, dawg.

14) Orlais or Ferelden?

Considering all the beautiful land Orlais has usurped, I’d have to go with Orlais just for the scenery. However, the politics are Stupid.

15) Templars or mages?

Mages, but my characters typically aren’t concerned with the conflict between the two.

16) If you have multiple characters, are they in different/parallel universes or in the same one?

They’re all in the same universe! I only have one canon Warden, Champion, and Inquisitor, but the rest of my crew play roles within the same universe.

17) What did you name your pets? (mabari, summoned animals, mounts, etc)

The Warden’s mabari is Barkspawn (it’s a basic meme now, I know and I don’t care).

Ayelet has two pets: a cat named Vherise and her mount, a red hart called Nema.

18) Have you installed any mods?

I have a very very unorganized mod folder, yes.

19) Did your Warden want to become a Grey Warden?

No, Myri would never have chosen that life for herself outside of the circumstances of the game.

20) Hawke’s personality?

Purple.

21) Did you make matching armor for your companions in Inquisition?

No, I like when everyone sticks to their own aesthetic. I change their colorways a bit though. Sera gets black and pink everything. Viv gets the fancy silver fabric. Dorian looks so good in green.

22) If your character(s) could go back in time to change one thing, what would they change?

Myriani would have found some way for Jowan to escape. Ayelet would have tried to save her friends and clan mates at the conclave.

23) Do you have any headcanons about your character(s) that go against canon?

Not really as far as Myri is concerned. Even after DAO, the canon story of the Warden holds true for her. After a short period of traveling she becomes Warden-Commander of Ferelden, continues her relationship with Alistair, he goes to Orlais, eventually her higher-ups ask her to investigate a cure for the taint or at least the Calling in the West. And that suits my larger timeline just fine.

Ayelet has a few small differences. Mainly with regards to Dalish clan life and customs, her romance, and a lengthened timeline for Inquisition. How exactly are we meant to believe all of those things take place in only a year?????

24) Are any of your character(s) based on someone?

Ayelet is like 50% a self-insert, I guess. She has a different personality, and totally different face. But we have the same hair and some commonalities in background. It just makes it easy to get into her head.

25) Who did you leave in the Fade?

I leave Hawke. Meta af, but I feel like Hawke is supposed to be left there as part of their arc. Something tells me Hawke will survive while a warden might not.

26) Favourite mount?

Any of the harts. That screeching gives me life.

#azia stuff #dragon age #tag meme

[pinayelf]

Dragon Age Questions

I was tagged by @feeshies! Thank you :D

Tagging: @star--nymph @crystal-grace @dirthara-mama @bitchesofostwick @inquisitorsmabari @mybookswerealltome 

01) Favourite game of the series?

Inquisition. I know it’s not the best plot-wise etc etc (disc horse here) but for me it’s the most fun to play, I think the mage moves are cool and I like taking screencaps. Also cause Josephine is my most romanced jfisdnfuni

Plus my characters look Asian. 

02) How did you discover Dragon Age?

I knew about it when it first came out because my high school friends were into it. Funnily enough I was not. I would hang out with them while they played it and I’d get bored and wait until they were done so we could do something else.

I didn’t start playing it until April 2017 when my friend convinced me to play DAO because she said I could be gay and evil. Got hooked. 

03) How many times you’ve played the games?

DAO: Hmmm? Does this count as full playthroughs? Because I’ve only ever fully played as Amihan. But if we’re talking like getting pretty far in-game I’d say four or five.

DA2: Two times? The lighting irritates me lol, I can never see my Hawke.

DAI: I’ve finished it through Trespasser twice. But like DAO I’ve gotten pretty far in-game four or five times.

04) Favourite race to play as?

Human. I know it’s boring lol and I know it’s not that deep but I feel like it’s because I never see myself in media and shows so I make humans to see myself as the hero of a fantasy story. Idk. 

It’s funny because I’m assuming Imryll is my most well known OC. 

05) Favourite class?

Mage. 

06) Do you play through the games differently or do you make the same decisions each time?

Ehhh...slightly? I have Circle loyalists and Rebel Mages and it’s...I play almost all mages lmao so...but they have different attitudes towards different things. With certain characters it’s usually me just pushing the mean option through the whole game so I guess lol.

07) Go-to adventuring group?

Like just for running around and exploring? Well you can’t really do that in DAO or DA2, so I’ll just answer for DAI. I somehow make sure Vivienne and Sera are in the mix just cause I really like the two of them.

08) Which of your characters did you put the most thought into?

Amihan. She has the most complex development so far, just with her decisions and the way she views things and how she changed.

09) Favourite romance?

DAO: Leliana

DA2: Anders (tbh I haven’t tried other romances yet I don’t play DA2 too often)

DAI: Honest tie between Josephine, Sera and Cullen (But if I HAD to pick, it’s Josephine)

10) Have you read any of the comics/books?

No

11) If you read them, which was your favourite book?

N/A

12) Favourite DLCs?

DAO: Lol I got lazy playing with them and I zoomed through return to Ostagar so I really can’t say.

DA2: Mark of the Assassin is funny and I think Tallis is really cute.

DAI: The Descent, even though it does give me heebie jeebies. Maybe that’s why I like it.

13) Things that annoy you.

The lighting in DA2, the way Sera was written, that stupid Druffalo fetch quest. 

14) Orlais or Ferelden?

Someone is gonna kill me for this but neither. Orlais is pretty so points for that (like seriously the maps in Orlais are gorgeous) and I don’t really care for Ferelden (SORRY) so...

I’m gonna have to say Free Marches. I’m a big Free Marches stan. (Shout out to Ostwick)

15) Templars or mages?

Personally, mages. And if you pick mages in DAI you get a field trip with Cullen

But writing-wise it’s dependent on the character. Like Monica is evil and got mad at Irving for letting her get conscripted so she annuls the Circle for revenge.

Theo sides with the Templars cause he’s a Templar. 

Also lmao, idt your choice in this matter reflects your real-life morals and it’s annoying that people think it does because for the most part people are just writing stories and creating characters.

16) If you have multiple characters, are they in different/parallel universes or in the same one?

Yep! I have a lot of different timelines with the same characters, I like making them non-protags because I like exploring the world and lore from an NPC’s POV. 

I have one switched around where Amihan is the Inquisitor and Imryll is the Warden.

17) What did you name your pets? (mabari, summoned animals, mounts, etc)

Amihan named her dog Pikachu. I never know how to write this or explain this in canon so I never bring up her dog. I named her dog Pikachu because I named it after my own dog.

Sinag’s dog is named Cinnamon, after my other dog but this is easier to write in canon lmao.

Tala’s giant nug mount is named Pudgy but I don’t really use mounts, I don’t like it.

18) Have you installed any mods?

I’m a basic bitch, so yes, I have a lot.

19) Did your Warden want to become a Grey Warden?

Amihan: No Monica: No Violetta: ...? Mayari: Maybe

Wow they’re all Amells

20) Hawke’s personality?

Purple. I’m planning to make Veronica blue though, but I haven’t gotten around to it.

21) Did you make matching armor for your companions in Inquisition?

No cause I want the armor to fit their own Styles TM Plus I’m scarred from Catholic school uniforms lolololol

22) If your character(s) could go back in time to change one thing, what would they change?

Amihan probably wouldn’t have snitched on Jowan to be petty

23) Do you have any headcanons about your character(s) that go against canon?

Amihan wasn’t friends with Jowan, her only friend was Finn and no one liked them because they were annoying. 

I don’t know if this really goes against canon but Tala and Imryll weren’t born in the Free Marches, they were from a Seheron clan who merged with Clan Lavellan because it was getting too dangerous to live in Seheron.

Isadore isn’t a Trevelyan, she’s an apostate mage from Kirkwall who lived in Darktown and was part of the Mage Underground

Marikit isn’t a Trevelyan either. She was from a peasant background and was taken away by Templars to the Ostwick Circle but what happened of her family is unknown and she doesn’t remember them. 

Monica Amell is Quentin’s daughter with Revka. Hence the uh...creepiness. 

24) Are any of your character(s) based on someone?

I’m going to straight up say it but Isadore is a self-insert. I made her cause out of all the LIs Sera is probably the one I’d date IRL and I wanted to date her. 

Zeke Trevelyan is based off Zayn Malik’s face, but not really off him, I just like his face so I made an OC who looks like him. Theo Trevelyan is based off Taron Egerton’s face for the same reason I made Zeke, but none of them are really anything like their faceclaims, they’re their own characters.

It was self-indulgent what can I say.

25) Who did you leave in the Fade?

Dependent on character. It’s an even between the Warden and Hawke.

26) Favourite mount?

That nug. What a good nug.

[veridium]

Inquisitor Amarantha Trevelyan and two of her allies, Madame Vivienne and Lord Dorian, are returning from a mission in the Hinterlands region. Along the way, a situation arises in the Crossroads village that brings them face-to-face with the politics they are entrenched in by birth.

“Do we ever get to escape the grasp of the Hinterlands, Inquisitor? I feel my body being overrun by the desire to run away and become a pastoral nobody,” Dorian complained as the hiked from they valley towards the nearest camp. The sky was dimming to blue with evening on the wings.

“Agriculture would look good on you,” she responded, her legs dragging with fatigue.

“Please. Lord Dorian couldn’t grow weeds if he wished,” Vivienne teased bitterly. Clearly, moods were not the highest.

When they reached the mouth of the Crossroads town, Amarantha halted. She rolled her shoulders, stretching under the weight of her armor and staff.

“I will check the dispatch to see if we can return to Skyhold sooner than planned,” she said, aimlessly looking at the cottages, their windows shining with fire light from their hearths.

Suddenly, a small explosion. It looked like smoke.

The three mages flinched, but suddenly they all came to the same instinctive fear.

“What was that?” Dorian asked, stepping closer to Amarantha’s side.

“Perhaps a cooking recipe gone awry,” Amarantha said, though the tone in her voice clued into her real concern.

“Don’t be silly. We all are thinking the same thing. I say we keep out of this. Our presence would hardly improve the situation,” Vivienne adjusted her sleeves.

They heard elevated voices coming from deeper within the town. A woman, two voices that were deeper, probably men. No sound of anyone else. Then, a crash. Like an ax blowing through a wooden wall.

“No, we’re investigating. Who attacks a cottage after a cooking mishap?” Amarantha’s voice shook with alarm, and she immediately marched further in. Vivienne sighed, but followed.

As they walked, Dorian scanned the town. “Everyone looks like those neighbors who want nothing to do with the drama but everything to do with the gossip,” he commented, hurried to catch up with Amarantha’s suddenly reinvigorated pace. They finally tracked down the source of the noise. A cottage, with a window singed to black, where the fire must have sought an escape. It was out, though. There was stern voices coming from within, arguing perhaps.

“You can’t take her away from me, she is mine!” A woman yelled. Amarantha looked at Vivienne knowingly.

“You cannot assure intervening would fix things, my dear. You cannot change everything,” she warned.

“No, but they don’t have to know that,” she said, before approaching the door and knocking. She was surprised when the weight of her fist knocked the door open, as it has already been ajar. What she saw was two men, one older than the other, who looked not a day beyond 20. Across from them, a woman, around the same age as the older man. She wore a dirty house dress, her hair disheveled as though she had fallen down a hill. They all looked at Amarantha and her compatriots as if the monster they feared was lurking had made its grand entrance.

“Get out! This is a private home!” the older man threatened, his shoulder hunching over in an act of intimidation.

“Hector, she looks lik—“

“Hush, Carl. I don’t give a nug’s ass about who she is.”

A moment quickly passed before the woman’s breathless voice sounded.

“Inquisitor…” she said, sounding fretful and desperate.

Amarantha crossed her arms. “I do not mean to trespass, ser. But with the commotion, and the circumstances in this region, I felt compelled to at least check to make sure people were safe.”

“Oh, yes, Your Worship. We understand,” the woman responded, stepping backward, as if she were protecting something or someone.

“You won’t get out of this because the Inquisition showed up, Deirdre. This has to be dealt with.”

The man pointed angrily at the corner to which Deirdre was retreating. Behind a barrel and table, the forehead and nose of a child was visible. Her green eyes peered at the Inquisitor with fear.

“What exactly happened to make you threaten a child, Ser?” Amarantha asked, arms falling to her side, her chest blowing up a bit defensively.

“Clearly, the child is capable of more than just house chores and idle play,” Vivienne observed, eyes scanning the scortch marks on the window.

Deirdre’s arms went up. “It was a mistake, she had gotten fire from the pit and—“

“Deirdre.”

A tense moment of no talk confirmed to Dorian and Vivienne what had happened. For Amarantha, it filled her with a sense of dread.

“She has abilities,” Dorian said, hushed.

Amarantha’s ear turned to him, her gaze towards the floor. She exhaled.

“Your Worship, we do not intent insult to you and your company,” the younger man finally spoke up, hands on hips, stressed.

“My mind didn’t go to that precise conclusion, Ser, but thank you for confirming it,” her voice curt.

The older man turned and began to pace with frustration. “I knew this would be nothing but trouble. A mage at the helm of the Inquisition could only spell anarchy for us, who have to deal with the consequences of mages on the ground while you sleep in posh palaces and practice parlor tricks!” he vented. For a man so fearful of mages, he sure was unabashed about provoking their temper.

Amarantha was about to retort, but she stopped herself. She represented more than just herself. She instead turned towards the woman and the child, who was presumably her daughter.

“What is the child’s name?” she asked, trying to soften her tone.

Deirdre’s chin lowered. “My daughter’s name is Veronica.”

The child chimed in. “My name is Veronica, but I wish to be called different.”

Amarantha’s eyebrows raised. “Oh? And what name should I go by, instead?”

“I don’t know yet. But just know, it’s in the works,” the girl was growing more confident.

Amarantha turned and looked at her fellow mages. Dorian was amused, clearly. “A girl with spunk. I do say, she’d fit right in with the Inquisition’s women. It may burn Skyhold to the ground,” he teased. Vivienne’s eyes rolled.

Amarantha approached the girl, stepping beyond her mother. She crouched down to make eye contact at her level. The girl spoke sharply, but her posture told Amarantha everything. She was scared, defensive.

“Veroni—um, Miss. How did you do this to the window?” she asked, hand pointing towards the burnt wood.

The girl’s eyes shifted to and from the burns and the Inquisitor. “I got upset. Carl wanted to slaughter my favorite pig,” she said, her arms behind her back and back against the corner wall.

Amarantha sighed lightly. “And so your hands spouted fire, right?” she said, holding out an open palm. The girl looked down and hesitated, but then she let her right hand come out from behind her. Her hand was warm, feverish with power. Amarantha’s own fire abilities simmered under her skin, feeling the potential that was like itself, but in the body of another. The kind of energy that made currents of itself whenever her and her fellow Mages were in the thick of combat together, feeding off one another.

Deirdre grew more fearful. “We’ve known this for 2 years, Your Worship. She has managed to keep herself out of trouble for most of it. I do not intend to reject her,” she said, rubbing her wrist.

Amarantha’s eyes stayed locked with the girl’s. “How have you stayed like this amidst the rebellion?” she asked, presumably of Deidre.

“She doesn’t wander. When the mages started attacking us, I hid her in whatever place I could find.”

Dorian shook his head. “The girl sounds more like a dangerous pet than a person,” he eyed the men, who he was convinced were the real motivators behind her captivity.

“What else do you expect them to do, Dorian? Post her on the roof like a trebuchet to burn intruders alive?”

“I’m sure you believe my perspectives on magic to be barbarian in nature, Madame de Fer, but I can hardly call basic decency exceptionally foolish,” he spit back.

“Both of you, please,” Amarantha looked back, eyes narrowing with frustration.

“Inquisitor, she is one of many girls like her, dangerous and unsupported. This is why a Circle is the best option for her safety and her family’s, and this is why that goal must be paramount to us,” Vivienne replied, shifting weight to her hip.

“When in doubt, Circle, Circle, Circle. World hunger? Circle. Demonic war? Circle. Bad hair day? Circle.” Dorian chimed in.

“That’s enough.” Amarantha interrupted. She turned back to the girl, who looked even more concerned.

“Miss, I think you know full-well what would happen to you. You don’t look like the sort to leave others to decide your destiny,” she said, head tilted.

The girl shook her head. “The Templars scare me. I don’t want them to take control of me,” the girl said, stepping a bit away from the wall now.

Amarantha’s chest ached. She could feel Vivienne’s skepticism and Dorian’s impulsivity behind her, surging.

“Neither did I. But I was told it was best for others, who did not have the abilities I did,” Amarantha once again placed her palm outward. Smoke began to billow from it, and then a spark, like from a candle. The girl’s eyes glowed with wonder. “You’re like me? You throw fire, too?” she asked, a tone of desperation in her voice.

Amarantha nodded, and then placed out her left palm alongside it. “And this one, this one’s new, but, it glows green when there are demons and rifts around. It defeats them and sends them back to where they came from.”

The girl took hold of Amarantha’s left hand, rotating it, investigating. Amarantha smirked. “For now, there’s none nearby, so I don’t need it. And that is what magic can be: used for protection, to defend those you love and value. It doesn’t have to be uncontrollable, or frightening.”

She took her left palm away and stood back upright, now peering down at the girl. Her eyes lingered on her before turning back to the men, who looked visibly disturbed and on edge.

“My dear, this all sounds very endearing, but I believe we’ve overstepped into a situation already underway, one which we’d best not alter,” Vivienne said, keeping her distance.

The girl noticed all three of them, with their Enchanter armors and staffs, and suddenly it clicked. “You’re all mages?”

Their eyes all looked back at her, and they felt the pressure of a controversial identity pile down on their shoulders. Dorian cleared his throat, and came closer. “Madam,” he said, “Your astuteness is incredible.”

The girl grinned, satisfied with herself.

Amarantha eyed the men. “Magic or no magic, cruelty towards children is uncalled for. You provoke her abilities when you put her into a position of self-defense. This is why Templars treat us as captive pariahs. I may be Inquisitor, but before this I was a mage, a Circle mage, in fact. I come from rejection and isolation on the part of one’s family. I cannot dictate to you your choices, but please know, repression only draws out her abilities in more temperamental and costly ways. Teaching a mage to self-hate is a symptom of a greater, cultural mistake. Please, heed my advice, and change your ways.”

She turned to Deirdre. “I will dispatch materials and notes for her to study, from our own libraries. And our mage tower will also prepare recipe lists for healing potions and apothecary talents, so she may feel as though she can have a purpose beyond destroying things. If you find any other children in the village with these abilities, I implore you to share them.”

Vivienne’s shoulders stiffened visibly. “Home-schooling what the Circle could teach in spades?” she asked.

Amarantha rested her hands on her hips. “The Circles are not stable right now and perhaps never will be. Of course, the world could end, too, why not?” her sarcasm bleeding through.

---

As they departed through the door, the girl ran past the adults, calling out to the Inquisitor. “My Lady!” she said, her bare feet carrying her.

Amarantha looked, and stopped dead in her tracks.

“My Lady, if you can be Inquisitor, does this mean I can be something other than this? Something, someone…good?”

Dorian chuckled. “My goodness, I almost feel tears coming to fruition in my very eyes.”

Amarantha’s chest was full of anxiety. In the girl’s dark hair, oval face, soft and young, she saw so much of herself. Her tattered clothes and calloused hands also reminded her of how different her awakening could have gone, had she not been born in gilded walls.

She inhaled, and her chest froze, as she thought on her feet. “My girl,” she began, her right hand pulling a strand of the girl’s hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear, “You and you alone decide who you are. No Circles, Templars, men, women, anyone, has more power over that than you. One day your destiny will come call, and that day will come soon enough. Stay present, and stay true to who you are, and you’ll be armed for whatever that is.”

The girl’s eyes beamed with a new hope, and new excitement. Her mother’s voice called her back inside, and she returned home. Amarantha watched her go, before re-embarking with her fellow Mages.

“That was…touching,” Vivienne filled the silence. The skepticism in her voice remained, though her comment sounded almost won-over.

“I try, you know,” Amarantha joked, hiking up the hill.

“I hope her Mother makes good on her commitments, or else this village will continue to be in peril,” Vivienne didn’t always agree with the Inquisitor, but she saw optimistic intentions in her, and that earned a few ounces of respect.

“I think the idea of losing her child will compel her, Madame,” Amarantha replied. On the surface, she seemed assured and confident. Or at least, that was her goal. But in her mind, she paced nervously, oscillating between ideas of self-preservation, and those of a new, imagined reality for her and her kind.

Underneath it all, though, the foundation of fear that had been instilled was melancholic. I pray she never has to sacrifice like I do to be seen as a redeemable Mage, she thought.

#oc stuff #fanfiction #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #amarantha trevelyan #vivienne de fer #dorian pavus

[everly-kindred]

Eve’s Diary - Entry #90

Date: 7th of February, 2028

Dear Diary, 

A lot has happened so… Let’s see where to start. 

We had Art Class, and talked about all the different mediums for art and stuff. That was awhile ago, so my memory of it is fuzzy. But, basically, art is all around us. Food, music, furniture, clothes. It’s everything. The human touch, you know? Creativity and imagination, making something that lives in your brain exist in the real world. Aures and I got to take a look at some of the paintings in the long gallery for a little, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot since that class. 

In Herbology we talked about wand woods. I can see the unicorn hair inside my wand, now. I’ve wrapped it with a silk ribbon, but I’ll probably have to get a new wand soon. Oh, and Ruby and I made cinnamon rolls in Homemaking Magic. I like that professor a lot, she’s really nice. I made orange cinnamon rolls because those are my favourite, and they remind me of my mom.

Sadly, though, I’m sort of slipping in all my other classes. I’ve been feeling really sick lately, like… my stomach is always upset or twisted in knots, and my chest feels heavy. Well, my everything feels heavy, really. My whole body. And I also feel numb a lot of the time. Sometimes I wonder why I bother trying, and things feel pointless for a little bit, but then one of my friends talks to me or I go and make something and I feel okay again. I don’t know. I’ve just felt really disconnected lately. Like I’m not alive anymore. 

I’ve been having a lot of weird dreams lately, and I’ve sort of been… controlling them, too. I wake up from sleep and feel this weird, falling, tearing sort of feeling inside of me. It’s kind of… tingly isn’t the right word but it’s the only word I have. Like when you get a random chill, but longer and dulled. I wrote my mum about it, and she told me that there’s a theory about something called astral projection and astral travel, and that the feeling I felt, she believed, was that of my soul leaving my body. I’ve been lucid dreaming because when I wake up and feel that feeling, I know I’m still half asleep and dreaming, so I sort of fall back asleep with the goal in mind to control my dream to be whatever I want, and then it sort of works! I’ve never been able to control my dreams before, it’s really cool. 

Though I did dream something that I couldn’t control. Something that I don’t think was a dream. I think I had a vision. There was… forging. Like weapons? And goblins, talking about waging war against the wizards. And a wizard was controlling them. They were making a ring and… I don’t know why, but the ring felt important. And then I saw flashes from that battle in the forest again. Men dying. The unicorn that was killed, impaling someone. It felt like it was impaling me but, I knew it wasn’t me. I saw someone with a blind eye carrying a boy who looked like Ruby away. Except the boy was older, and taller. I didn’t recognise the girl. I saw the ring fall from a hand as it turned to dust. There was a mask, and these hateful eyes behind it. More of the goblins waging war, more of that ring… So much hate, and fear. 

I was having a hard time sleeping after that, but Puck has been by my side when I sleep, especially lately, and that’s helped a lot. Not just with the sleeping but the loneliness too. I’m really homesick. I sort of can’t wait to get out of the castle, at least for a little bit. I wish spring would come and melt the snow. 

My dad sent me something in the mail. He said it comes from a video game, but since I can’t play it… He sent me a book and a stuffed animal instead! The book is about this place called Thedas, with all these characters who live in Ferelden, amongst some other cities and stuff. There’s elves, dwarves, and these horned giants called Qunari, and mages and knights and all sorts. I really like the Dalish elves. Oh! And the stuffed animal is this enchanted plush fennec fox, because apparently fennec foxes are native to Ferelden, along with these… mole rat sorts of creatures called nugs. I’ve named my fox Alistair Rose, because there’s a ‘codex entry’ about a knight named Alistair who gives the main character a rose. 

Today, for Hufflepuff Hangout, Priaulx had us go to the dueling room and do a sort of talent show. Nora did this acting thing, I think it was Macbeth? And Marigold showed how she could throw Sebastien because she’s trained in martial arts! And I read one of the codex entries from the book dad sent me. It’s about the elven goddess of the hunt. I’ll copy it down here - 

Hear me, sons and daughters of the People - 

I am Sister of the Moon, Mother of Hares,

Lady of the Hunt: Andruil.

Remember my teachings,

Remember the Vir Tanadhal:

The Way of Three Trees

That I have given you.

Vir Assan: the Way of the Arrow

Be swift and silent;

Strike true, do not waver

And let not your prey suffer.

That is my Way.

Vir Bor'assan: the Way of the Bow

As the sapling bends, so must you.

In yielding, find resilience;

In pliancy, find strength.

That is my Way.

Vir Adahlen: the Way of the Wood

Receive the gifts of the hunt with mindfulness.

Respect the sacrifice of my children

Know that your passing shall nourish them in turn.

That is my Way.

Remember the Ways of the Hunter

And I shall be with you.

We also had drama club. Everyone decided they wanted to do a version of the Tale of the Three Brothers, but with the three champions instead. Professor Macauley told me to audition for Cardan but… If I’m going to audition for anyone, it’d probably be Elliott. That being said, I don’t think I will. I’m sure there are other people better suited to the role, and I think I’d rather focus on continuing the play I had started writing last year. 

We had Hogsmeade Weekend, and I got to see Bonnie, which was really nice. I miss her. Sometimes I feel a little lost without her. And I got some sweets for my stash - some fruity cakes, and bottles of butterbeer and pumpkin juice. I also bought a little potion from the shop… It’s called the essence of euphoria. Apparently, it’s really popular with the older students. It’s very sticky and sunshine yellow, and smells good. So I’m going to see if Ruby wants to try it, and play some games. So! Until then. 

Much love, Everly

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#harry potter #hufflepuff #diary #magic #hogwarts #journal #witch