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drunklander · 4 years

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Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 511

Ok so this episode is like the perfect embodiment of my love/hate relationship with the books. And the show, but since the author wrote it, the books too, and her writing/plotting in general. I hated the other episode she wrote so my expectations going into this were *rull* low.

This episode was like a series of character-driven vignettes, which is what I like most about her writing (and why I bother even sticking around): random scenes here and there that I really enjoy as standalone bits. But, in true Outlander fashion, it also like ticked a lot of the boxes for stuff plot-wise that I can’t stand. Namely, yet more violence against multiple women, Marsali and Fergus getting shortchanged, Lord John crossing just over the creepy line for a sec with Jamie and the situation with Ulysses’ legal status. It didn’t check the rape box, but we may have to revisit that next week. I sure as fuck hope we don’t have to, but seeing as this show never met a rape it didn’t think was ToTaLlY nEcEsSaRy to include... *preemptive sigh*

Show-wise this very much felt like a penultimate episode and in that respect it accomplished what it was supposed to. In the overall arc of the season though, much like when considering the whole book series, a few solid standalone scenes here and there do not equal a good whole. To be in this fandom is to be an expert in eating around the moldy parts of the bread to get a few nibbles of good stuff.

Anywho, SCIENCE!JIZZ 5EVA!

Fuck yeah PB&J, and Claire is forgiven for not mastering fluff yet. But fluffernutters are also a staple in any growing kid’s diet.

Poor burned girl. It’s not her fault she vaguely resembles a walker so I spent the whole time thinking about TWD.

Omfg I got like PTSD flashbacks when I saw that dress in the title card. KILL THAT DRESS WITH FIRE!

There may not be fluffernutters, but Bree and Claire fluff and Young Ian and Jemmy fluff are good substitutes.

This kid is adorbs tho.

They’ve been really blasé about mentioning time travel in front of folks this season. First Marsali and now Young Ian. The latter will be remedied, but I’m still lowkey annoyed that Fergus and Marsali aren’t brought into the circle of trust... Esp. when there was a perfect opportunity for it later on.

I cannot with men, tbh. Seeking justice for a daughter who’s been “dishonored” by killing the dude is like the most overused trope of toxic masculinity ever. And now we’re supposed to be all like oh look how relatable the Brown guy is! Because our tropey men wanted to kill a dude like that last week! Hard pass. Also, fucking his kid wasn’t raped, she loves a guy who happens to be married, but everything was super consensual. Sooo like double gross points for you, dude.

And yes, I know it’s ThE pAsT, but I am not in the past, I am in the present, and the show is airing in the present, so thinking this sort of behavior is gross is totes ok. So the fucked up squad of randos who always jump into my notes about how they like “their men to be men” can just shove it, ok? Ok.

They’re like really not subtle with the foreshadowing this episode are they. But then again, when has subtlety ever been a thing on this show. That’s a nice still you got there, shame if anything were to happen to it...

I’m really digging the decor in this living room.

Oh hey! They finally decided to stop pretending like Young Ian was dumb and didn’t notice literally *gestures* everything about Claire.

I’m still salty they never told Jenny and Ian in S3 tbh.

Shockingly, considering who wrote it, so much of this episode is directly from the books. So I’m sure the Cult of Herself folks will be obsessed. And like yeah, some of the stuff in this episode is some of the bits I really like from the books as individual little scenes. However! I know some in the cult will use this as a reason why the show should StAy TrUe To ThE bOoKs more. And please, for the love of fuck, fight that instinct. Parts of this episode aren’t good “because they’re from the book,” they’re good because they’re emotional moments between characters, which is where both the books and the show are strongest. “Sticking with the book” on everything would make an already not great show even worse. I mean, the show ain’t great, but thank fuck they’ve streamlined the book stuff as much as they have.

Yes, I did notice the Pamela easter egg from the book. No, I’m not one who gets excited about shit like that.

Aaand here we get the problematic af bit about Ulysses and his legal status. In the book, he was offered freedom and turned it down to stay with Jocasta. Which is twelve kinds of fucked up. Here, he *is* a free man and he chooses to stay and cosplay an enslaved person so he can chill with Jocasta? FUCK THAT NOISE. That is some “benevolent slave owner” bullshit. They don’t get overt with the Ulysses and Jocasta are banging stuff from the book, which is also epically fucked up considering the power dynamic and how a fuckton of men enslaved their own fucking kids because they’d raped the mothers and children take the status of the mother. I’m glad they didn’t come right out and say that. But it’s like lowkey implied and even if it’s not supposed to be taken as canon, having a Black man be given the option to get the fuck out of there and choose to stay with someone who enslaves other Black people is like some dangerous white fanfic nonsense.

Also, thinking about the slave/master relationship dynamic today really makes me wish I saw Jeremy O. Harris’ play while it was running...

Oh yay, Bree and Roger are actually leaving. Much like the Bonnet shit, credit where credit’s due, I’m glad they’re not dragging the will they/won’t they go out for another season.

Don’t sound so butthurt that you didn’t get to murder a guy, Jamie.

Poor Young Ian. Buddy needs a hug. And more screentime for his story. Like, do we really need something else traumatic to happen to Claire when we could explore family dynamics instead? This time with Young Ian and his wife and their Mohawk family?

THERE ARE SO MANY OTHER WAYS TO HAVE DRAMA AND CONFLICT THAT CAN TAKE UP THE RUNNING TIME OF A SEASON THAT DON’T INVOLVE CONSTANTLY PUTTING THE WOMEN IN PHYSICAL DANGER.

Lol at the thought of LJG “working the land.” Like, buddy, have you seen yourself?

“No doubt there a great many things I shall miss about being here.” Don’t make it weird bro.

Yes, I know he’s like gonna miss their friendship and stuff. But he’s always been just a smidge too intense about it. And by a smidge I mean the gay guy openly in love with his straight best friend a gross trope and I don’t like it.

Ok so if we’re following the “rules” of the show that the production used to recite ad nauseam to justify why Jamie and Claire barely seemed to even like each other for a few seasons (”they’re married, we don’t need to see them fuck!” “we already know they love each other, it’s a given!”), this sex scene shouldn’t exist. Because it’s really not essential to the plot. Which just proves the “rules” are and always were bullshit excuses. And the author/writer of this episode def spouted that bullshit too, so she can also shove it.

Because this scene *should* exist and those “rules” *were* complete crap. Because Jamie and Claire are very sexual/physical people and, especially when they’re going through things, use sex to center themselves where they are and in their relationship. Bree and Roger are leaving. Jem’s leaving. They’re sad about that. But they’re also happy that they made a family and got to be together as a family and are glad to have had that chance. (And, they just like to fuck.) So of course this is a good character moment. This is the kind of shit we should be seeing instead of just a constant barrage of plot and violence. And the crew can fuck all they off with their not at all convincing talking points about “rules.”

Also this is a much better use of sex than them constantly having them fuck after a fight instead of actually working through the issue between them.

Also, fuck yeah, get it gurrrl.

SCIENCE!JIZZ! (I’m gonna need a gif of Claire’s face when Jamie’s figuring it out because that’s gonna be in heavy reaction rotation.

I just love Claire fuck yeah science Beauchamp.

It’s also another scene that does nothing to advance the plot, but is a nice respite from the constant trauma. The show has yet to find a balance between the two, which is annoying af because they’ve had five seasons to figure it out. So like whenever there is fluff, folks pounce on it like starving animals. Which some in the crew (and some fans) like to point out like “see, you all like everything now!” Or “look, why are you whining so much, we gave you this!” Or “wow you hate the show but now you like this part? Hypocrite.”

But like, no, that’s not what it means. Not giving someone water for days and then throwing them a small canteen doesn’t mean everything is hunky dory. It’s still super fucked up. So no, enjoying the fact that there are a few fluffy scenes in an episode doesn’t mean the show is good. If they made more of an effort to center the characters and spread the fluff around a bit more instead of waiting until there was like trauma fatigue and throwing in a fluffy life raft, the show as a whole would be stronger.

</rant>

Ok it’s super fucked up they hadn’t told Bree about Willie yet, but I’m glad Jamie is the one who tells her.

“And it wasn’t a matter of love between us, but it was her choice, and that’s all I’ll say about it.” BECAUSE SHE RAPED HIM. COERCION IS NOT CONSENT AND ALL THE PEOPLE WHO ARE STILL TALKING ABOUT HOW “HOT” THAT SCENE WAS ARE FUCKING DISGUSTING AND THE PRODUCTION IS DISGUSTING FOR SHOOTING A FUCKING RAPE IN THE MANNER THEY DID. AND ALSO FUCK THEM FOR HAVING IT BE A RAPE IN THE FIRST PLACE WHEN IT COULD HAVE SO FUCKING EASILY BEEN CONSENSUAL.

This show is so fucking not good.

This scene with Jamie and Brianna is super nice, but like, we saw nothing of them building their relationship. He didn’t even fucking hug her after Murtagh died. The scene loses so much of what it could have had because they never did the legwork to show us what they mean to each other.

It’s the same old shit they pulled with Claire and Jamie. “Oh they’re together and endgame so we don’t actually need to show you them building and working on their relationship that much. Because you know they’re together so just go with it.” Like no? Fuck you? That’s not how this works?

FERGUS AND MARSALI DESERVE BETTER!

Of course Marsali’s preggo again. Why the fuck should she do anything but spit out babies. Also, THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN A PERFECT TIME TO HAVE THE FRASER KIDS TALK ABOUT TIME TRAVEL.

And Bree’s become a sister to Marsali? We saw one fucking scene of them together. See above rant. Fucking show us them becoming sisters. Sorry to interrupt your constant stream of violence and trauma, but fucking actually SHOWING characters building relationships instead of TELLING us they did the thing is how this is fucking supposed to work.

I’m rull pissed we never got quality Fraser kid bonding, y’all.

And ditto with this scene with Lizzie. We saw more of Bree and Lizzie than Bree and Marsali, but like we never really saw them becoming friendly post Bree’s rape and Rogergate.

All the goodbyes are like making me feel inch deep feelings because they’re rooted in nothing we’ve actually seen. And I’m not a Bad Fan or dumb for not filling in the feelings myself. I’m the viewer. It’s not my job to fill in the show’s gaps. It’s the show’s job not to have emotional gaps.

Oh hey! Another shitty man who hurts his wife and another woman trapped in a physically abusive relationship who thinks the abuse is her fault! On Outlander? Who’da thunk they’d have something like this?!

I’m so tired, y’all. So. Fucking. Tired.

I HOPE YOUNG IAN FINDS HAPPINESS TOO, ROGER.

Ok but for real, every time Lord John talks about how Willie and Bree are like Jamie it has that gross tinge to it. Like I know he’s not meaning it like a creeper, but they leaned so fucking hard into him being so into and not over Jamie that the layer of grossness is always there.

Also like, grannie and grandda, we got like one scene of Claire and Jamie playing with Jem. WE COULD HAVE FELT SO MANY MORE FEELINGS ABOUT THEM BEING SEPARATED IF ONLY THEY HAD TAKEN THE TIME TO BUILD THE RELATIONSHIPS ON SCREEN.

Claire making everyone PB&Js is fucking adorable and I love her.

Old timey forks will never not be fucking weird looking.

“And now it’s just you and me again.” Uh, Fergus, Marsali and Young Ian might be a tad offended by that sentiment, Clairebear.

Ok but like do they really think a rope is gonna hold up to fucking magic time travel rocks? It’s gotta just be like a mental security blanket thing, right? Because if not, loooooooooool.

Ok but the really just let their kiddo run off like that in the middle of the magic time travel rock circle? Dumbasses.

Ok but like what’s the betting they ended up in like a RenFest type thing and think they haven’t traveled but they have and it’s like lol look at them fitting in with their old timey clothes vs. skipping them going back to the future and doing the going adventuring around the even past-er past part but with them all together instead of Roger and Buck?

I’m just hoping it’s something completely different than the books because I have zero interest in Bree and Roger in the 20th century and hate the Roger and Buck nonsense with a fiery passion.

Erm, that’s a little close to the house to build a privy, my dudes.

Is the setting a guy’s dislocated shoulder thing supposed to be a cute callback? Because like hey wink wink, first she was kidnapped and then set a shoulder and now she’s setting a shoulder and then getting kidnapped is kind of a fucked up “joke.”

But how about we get more of Nurse!Marsali and less of Marsali just being constantly preggo.

“Sort of like the opposite of what you do when ya joint a hog.” I JUST LOVE NURSE!MARSALI A LOT OK.

Aaand now that we’re all good and docile little fans who have been placated with some fluff and Fraser fucking as a treat, we can go back to the regularly scheduled violence against women. Because we literally just had a violent abduction last week. So clearly it’s time for another.

Everything in this story has been done before...

I swear to fuck, if they do the thing I think they’re gonna do next week, I hope they get rightfully dragged by fucking everyone.

And if by some fucking miracle of Caitriona putting her foot down they don’t do the thing next week, they get zero brownie points. You don’t get rewarded for doing what you should have done the whole time.

And of course the closing is Jamie lighting Flaming Dildo 2.0. His men swore oaths to him, not any government or crown, and protecting his family has always been the top thing for Jamie. So good choice there with saving Claire being the reason he calls up the men.

#*#outlander starz #outlander 5x11 #drunj!der yells about outlander

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lokidiabolus · 5 years

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Offline Age - Chapter 2

Fandom: Dragon Age Origins

Pairing: Alistair Theirin x Elissa Cousland

Summary: Alistair was never really a lone wolf or anything, but having a place only for himself had its appeal. He didn’t plan on taking responsibility for anybody in upcoming years, until one fateful night his doorbell decided to wake him up at 2 AM and show him he was so, so wrong.

How Alistair subconsciously harbored mother hen tendencies towards completely unknown person in five minutes and then fell in love so hard it almost broke all bones in his body.

Warnings: Slow Burn, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Tons of overused tropes, Prequel to Online Age

Can be found on Ao3.

Elissa had very little personal belongings to begin with, it made Alistair concerned. His amount of clothes exceeded hers (not to mention lots of her shirts stayed in the flat, soaking the water) and he considered himself fairly uninterested in clothes shopping. It was like she bagpacked into Redcliffe instead of moving in and quite frankly her bag actually looked that way (kind of dirty and battered). She didn’t even have a bed in her flat, she slept on raggedy sofa previous tenants left there and Alistair had so many questions he had no idea where to start.

“I guess you don’t really need a tour in here,” he commented when she entered his home, stopped in the living room and looked around. They had the same layout of the flat but Alistair had to admit his was much more furnished, which definitely raised even more questions.

“I’m good, thanks,” she replied without moving from the spot. She still held the bag and the suitcase and Alistair watched her with worry, because this looked like a speedily approaching meltdown if he ever saw one. He approached her cautiously and when no reaction came, he tugged on her bag and it easily slid off her shoulder to his hand, so he could put it on the floor. He repeated the same thing with the suitcase, leaving her just standing there, looking lost.

“You okay?” he tried. Her eyes had that distant look in them, like she was lost in thought. “Elissa?”

“Huh?” she snapped out of it, blinked few times, and then slowly nodded. “Yeah, sure. Sorry, spaced out.”

“Wanna catch some zees?” he pointed towards the bedroom. The clock showed something past four and if she didn’t sleep either, she must have been exhausted. He knew he was. “You can use the bedroom-,”

“I’ll take the couch,” she interrupted him quickly. “Thanks.”

He had no time to actually say anything else, since she flopped on the sofa like a sack of potatoes and was out cold in three seconds.

“Sure,” he mumbled in aftermath, grabbed the blanket from the armchair and put it over her. He had a feeling she was so far the strangest thing he had ever picked up.

***

He woke up to silence. It was strange how his brain thought it must have been a mistake when up until today there was nothing else but silence every day, but somehow the unusual quiet was wrong, he just couldn’t point a finger on the reason why. He tossed around in the bed for a while, and then reached for the alarm clock to check the time.

Half past seven. Not that bad.

His stomach was rumbling and his head hurt a little when he was crawling from under covers, and when he entered the living room, the why is it so silent hit him in full force. Elissa was sitting in the corner of the couch, awake, and with a notepad on her lap on which she was scribbling something. The blanket was twisted around her legs and waist to keep her warm and her hair was loose from the bun, falling down her face and over her shoulders. Everything else was completely silent, only the pencil movement over the paper made a slight noise.

“Oh, you’re up,” she glanced at him from under long eyelashes and then focused back on the paper. “Thanks for the blanket.”

“No problem,” he shrugged, his mind slowly fitting her into his life like a slot in Tetris. She still weirdly stuck out, but hey, he only knew her for a day – not even that actually. “Feeling any better?”

“Well, at least not like passing out anymore,” she smiled into the scribble, or whatever she was creating there. “I guess we both needed to sleep a bit, huh.”

“Well, I normally don’t hear my bed calling my name so loudly, so I’d say so,” he agreed and walked through the flat until he reached her unpacked bag again. He stared at it for a while, taking in the holes and obvious over usage, and then tilted his head to the side. “So what’s your story?”

“My flat got flooded,” she answered flatly. “It was pretty bad, you know.”

“Wow, really,” he left the bag alone – bad topic, obviously – and continued towards the fridge to feed himself. “Flooding is the worst, isn’t it.”

“Can totally ruin your day. And home.”

The fridge was basically empty, and it shouldn’t have surprised him. He wasn’t grocery shopping for at least two weeks now, basically living on take outs or food he grabbed on the way to or from work, and at this moment he hated his past self so much.

“Chinese it is,” he turned around to find his phone and when he reached the middle of the living room, he couldn’t help but try to fit Elissa sitting curled up on the couch into his life again.

“What?” she raised her head, staring back at him, and then made a face. “Wait. What’s your name again?”

“Again?” he made a face back at her. “How rude.”

“Should I call you Theirin then?” she shot back and the cringe that passed Alistair’s face must have looked pretty out of place. Wait, how did she even know his last name?

“You mean you know my last name but not my first name?” he crossed arms on his chest. “That’s it. We are breaking up.”

The eye roll didn’t come as a surprise. He got lots of those during his life.

“Was on your doorbell,” she gestured vaguely towards the main door to the flat. “Not my fault you didn’t put your whole name on it.”

“Not enough space,” he offered and when she still looked expectant, he lay off the jokes for the moment. “Fine, fair point. It’s Alistair.”

“Alistair,” she repeated thoughtfully. “Kind of a knightly name.”

“I wanted to be a Templar when I was a kid but my nanny didn’t approve, said math comes first,” he sighed dramatically and continued to his bedroom for the phone. “I still feel like it would serve me well. I was never big on studying, but hitting people over the head could have been my true calling.”

“I can tell,” she smirked when he reappeared in the room. “Brawns over brains, hm.”

“Ouch.”

“It’s fine, we all excel in something,” she told him sweetly and returned back to her scribbling. Alistair thought of a retort, but nothing came, so he left her victorious for now, just made a mental note to get back to it later with revenge.

“Going to order take out,” he announced instead while searching for the right number in his contacts. He should have put it in his favourites; they already knew him by his name there. “You want something?”

“Which take out?” It caught her interest. He wondered if she even ate today with all that happened to her or if she fussed around the flat the whole time. It would make sense if she did.

“Chinese.” Her eyes lit up, so it must have been a good choice. “Anything special you want?”

“As long as it’s edible, I’m game,” she put the notepad away and tiptoed towards her bag where she started to dig. “Oh god, now when you’re talking about it, I’m so hungry. Haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“Figures,” he commented under his breath and the restaurant picked up on second ring. He ordered twice the usual and by the corner of his eye caught Elissa pulling out a wallet from the bag. Somehow it made him uneasy, so when he was answering questions about his health to the lady on the phone that spoke broken but super adorable English, he put a hand on the wallet and pushed it back to the bag, shaking his head. Elissa looked confused and tried to take it out again, which met with his resistance.

Why? She mimicked at him. Let me pay.

No way. He mimicked back. My treat.

She pouted and it looked so stupid he barked out a laugh, which made her pout even harder. He had to refuse the money two more times after the food arrived.

***

Elissa insisted on sleeping on the couch. He was ready to make the sacrifice and let her use the bed, but she refused so vehemently he began to suspect she was either allergic to beds or maybe traumatized by pillows. Either way her loss, his bed was nice and comfortable and the couch was not.

Well, it wasn’t that bad, but still not the ideal sleeping arrangement, even though she made it look like it was the best thing to lie on. He refused to believe it (since he got the couch, he maybe sat on it twice. He had no idea why he let Anora talk him into buying it). She had her own pillow and a blanket that apparently escaped the water catastrophe but her Pooh bear shirt and plaid pants were in worse condition and Alistair took a pity on her and lent her his own shirt with a Griffon on it (but she had to solemnly swear not to drool on it which apparently offended her, since she threw it at him and then demanded it back).

They went to sleep early, despite napping over the day and Alistair somehow managed to completely forget about her in only few deep breaths once he closed his eyes. His unconscious self still remembered to be quiet in the morning the next day, but it didn’t supply why or any other context, so when he staggered outside of the bedroom in his briefs, he was quiet but also oblivious, up until he finally properly woke up in the bathroom and promptly facepalmed with a loud smack.

He was not surprised when he got out of there that Elissa was staring at him from the couch, still bundled up under the blanket but perfectly awake, and he never felt more naked than now (even though he still had the briefs, which offered little comfort. Or cover. Or dignity).

“Let’s forget this happened,” he offered into the rainy morning and Elissa’s lips widened in a grin. “Please.”

“Mkay,” she just told him, which roughly translated to nope, and went back to sleep.

***

“So?”

“I’m sorry, it’s probably on my chair in the bedroom.”

He already knew how disappointment on Duncan’s face looked like, and this was spitting image of it. The unhappy downturn of his mouth and the curve of his eyebrows haunted Alistair’s dreams when he got into the firefighter training at least for a month after he first saw it.

“Why did you even go home in your uniform?” Duncan sighed in obvious defeat and Alistair felt even worse. “Actually, what’s going on with you since yesterday in overall? Is there a problem?”

“Problem? What problem.” In retrospect that really did sound suspicious when Alistair’s voice cracked in the middle of it. But there was no problem, no sir. No problem at all! He expected this week to carry in similar fashion, sure, but that’d be normal with the getting used to period of the new cohabitation. But nobody needed to know about it. Or about Elissa. Or about anything, really, it’s just Alistair’s private matter. The fact he left his uniform at home – or basically even that he went home in it in the first place – was only an unfortunate accident. He blamed the morning’s briefs faux pas for it.

“Is something going on with the house?” Duncan, that good old man, didn’t buy it. Of course. When did he ever. “Or the piping?”

“Nope!” Another not exactly believable response, Alistair was aware. “I was just curious.”

“About the piping,” Duncan’s eyes narrowed and Alistair had an urge to avoid his eyes. But that would mean he had something to hide, so he could not. The battle with his instincts was killing him.

“Yeah, about the piping,” he nodded in frantic search for a viable excuse, but no bright ideas came when he needed them. Just Elissa grinning at him from the couch, obviously ready to serve him the incident in the face when he was going to expect it the least. He knew her only for a day but he could already see she was a worthy opponent.

On the other side, Duncan’s face told him he didn’t believe a single word. That was fine. Alistair was sure he was going to come up with something before another press for answers comes.

“Desk duty,” the older man announced flatly, making Alistair groan. “You brought it on yourself, boy. Now get to it. Bring your uniform tomorrow.”

“I can totally borrow another, why are you doing this to me,” Alistair protested and stubbornly followed Duncan out of the office like a dog. “Duncan, come on.”

“You obviously need to clear your head,” Duncan told him over his shoulder. He was so not getting swayed by Alistair’s puppy eyes anymore, that was not fair. “So you can start there.”

He didn’t need to say end of debate for Alistair to know he lost.

***

The only bright side of desk duty was an earlier leave while not needing to clean up or help with anything in the base. Sadly, for Alistair it was more of a punishment not to busy his hands with anything, rather than taking a breather, so at the end of the shift he was sucked dry of any motivation to even lift the pen for more than abstract sketches in the corner of the paper.

On his leave Duncan still managed to send him a disapproving look and that held onto him all the way to the store, during the grocery shopping and even through the ride in the elevator. It would probably stick longer if after entering his flat he didn’t find Elissa sitting on the floor, surrounded by papers with various pencil sketches on them, looking back at him with a grin.

Oh no, he thought.

“Didn’t lose your pants today, did ya?” she delivered without mercy. Alistair was afraid to look at her work in fear he would find one sketch to depict his morning lemme just saunter through the flat in my undies situation, because quite frankly she was obviously capable of doing that.

“You’re never going to let me live it down, are you,” he groaned and her grin widened even more. One day and she was already on a high horse? Good grief, since when he was such a pushover.

“Could have been worse,” she offered while he finally took his shoes off and brought groceries to the kitchen. The kitchen that never looked so… empty as it did now. Like half of things were missing.

“Did something happen in the kitchen?” he walked back to the living room with confused expression and Elissa was just stacking the papers together from the floor. There was another pile next to her consisting of pencils of all shapes and a case she probably carried them in.

“Not in few years, I wager,” she replied.

Well, yeah, Alistair wasn’t very big on cooking, true. But still. He watched her gently putting the stacked papers in a prepared folder and closing it with a click and his brows furrowed.

“It looks like stuff is like. Gone?” he glanced back towards the kitchen. “Or something. Like, things that used to be there and I usually just pushed them further when I needed space. Those are gone.”

“They are not gone,” she finished with her cleaning and stood up, still in his Griffon shirt and some loose pants of hers. Looked funny. And weirdly domestic, like in those movies about pillow wars. “I washed them and put them in a cupboard.”

“You cleaned my kitchen?” he blinked in surprise and she passed him and entered the incriminated place herself, just to open one of the cupboard doors, showing the mugs and plates neatly sorted inside.

“Somebody had to do it,” she shrugged. “I’ve wanted to make tea but… I thought the kettle was going to walk away from me, obviously alive.”

“Fair enough,” Alistair cleared his throat and she started going through the groceries, putting them on the table, and then carried them to the fridge. Was weird seeing that. Actually, the whole flat was weird seeing right now, because things were neatly put on their places, the floors clean and the pillows on the couch fluffed, and he had never seen anybody doing this in his home before, it made it feel alien. He couldn’t point a finger on the exact emotion, bad or good, it just hovered in grey area, making him nervous.

“Oh,” he heard her suddenly in the hallway and before he could ask what happened, she was back with him. “I shouldn’t have done that, should I.”

“Done the-“

“The cleaning,” she added quickly, her face showing uncertainty. “I should’ve asked first. Oh man, I’m sorry if I overstepped the boundaries or something.”

Alistair had no idea what to say. He looked around again, at the small touches she left over the place he never really thought of doing, and the Tetris pieces in his mind shuffled slightly, making the shapes still stick out, but… less.

“Sorry,” she said again in much graver tone and hung down her head. She looked like a kicked puppy and Alistair couldn’t help but bark out a laugh. It apparently confused her, since she looked back up with raised eyebrows and he couldn’t blame her.

“Let’s make a deal, you minx,” he pointed at her without any power over his smiling face. “You forget about this morning and I will forget about your obvious lack of sense for privacy. How about that?”

“I didn’t go to your bedroom,” she opposed, catching up on his brightening mood, since her face cleared. “I’m not that brave.”

“Oho,” he crossed his arms on his chest. “Afraid of the pillows, are you. I knew that.”

“The pillows?” she waved her hand. “My dear Alistair, I saw the mess in here, where you don’t sleep. I know what you’re capable of. The bedroom should have a biohazard sign on it, I’m sure.”

“Excuse me, my bedroom is a sacred place,” he shot back.

“When was the last time you changed the sheets?” she mirrored his pose and crossed her arms on her chest as well.

“Last week, actually,” he smirked in victory and she smirked back.

“After how long?”

He took a breath to answer, but then he realized it would only prove her point, so he just let the air out again.

“That’s what I thought,” she scored another point, smiled at him sweetly and left him standing in the kitchen.

Alright, he thought, chuckling. Alright. I can work with that.

#dragon age origins #alistair x cousland #offline age #alistair theirin #female cousland #female warden #modern setting au

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veotis-the-jewel-of-the-ocean · 6 years

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☾♔; 31.07.2018

☾♔; Tasha

☾♔; @veotis-the-jewel-of-the-ocean

☾♔; @serveorburn

☾♔; mod(s): @livesinabluebox @sighsethereally

▬ Set Requirement: Doesn’t matter, just make sure it has your faceclaim. Other than that, make whatever kind of thing you want! Square, rectangle, moodboard, magazine cover, whatever you want my nerds!

♛ Daenir Échon ♛

pronounced: Day-nir

♛ B A S I C⠀S T A T S ♛

▬ Full Name: Daenir Échon

▬ Nickname(s): Dae

▬ Title(s) and/or alias(es): The High Sorcerer

▬ Age: Roughly 27 summers give or take a few years

▬ Gender: Male

▬ Species: Witch - Isahor

▬ Occupation: Sorcerer of Veotis {currently} // Assassin/Witch Hunter {formally}

▬ Kingdom of Birth: Calia

▬ Kingdom of Residence: Veotis

♛ P H Y S I C A L⠀A P P E A R A N C E ♛

▬ Face Claim: Matthew Daddario

▬ Hair: Black

▬ Eyes: Blue-Grey

▬ Height: 6 ft 1

▬ Body: Scared perfection

▬ Any Scars/ Marks?: Several scars over his body, the most prominent of those are the shiny silvery marks around his wrists

▬ Any Tattoos/ Piercings?:

- A black and white dragon entwined over his heart

- Black wings across his back

- Protective runes across his ribs

- An unknown symbol on his upper left thigh

- A magical brand on his neck given to him by his mother

▬ Other: Nothing for now

♛ P E R S O N A L I T Y ♛

▬ Overview: Headstrong, stubborn and full of snarky wit and dry sarcasm, Daenir prefers to push people away to keep them from getting underneath the shields he has perfected over the years. Whilst generally he looks out for himself and acts like he’s been put out when people gather for his attention, underneath all those layers, Daenir does enjoy helping people. Due to years of abuse at the hands of his father, and the years of his imprisonment thanks to his mother, Daenir is known by the court to suffer moments of mental instability. Despite this, the King and the Advisory Council hold the man in high esteem due to his years of service to the kingdom and former apprenticeship to Master Cedric. Deanir is a warrior and most of the time is known to have unshakable focus in all of his tasks with little to distract him. His singular drive is to do better for the world he lives in even if he can only do it one bit at a time.

▬ Strengths: His stubbornness - but it can also be a weakness; his inability to give up on someone or something; his desire to make things safer for witches

▬ Weaknesses: Hates, and I mean HATES dark places, has to sleep with the fire going due to his imprisonment; extreme awkwardness in social situations; overuse of his powers can result in severe dehydration, often occurs when he spends too long in combat; inability to share his feelings to avoid being called weak

▬ Habits and Quirks: Daenir has been known to spark when he is annoyed or frustrated, likewise he can lose control of his lightning based abilities when in a state of arousal

▬ Likes: Hot places, warm weather, soft music, reading, painting, drawing, being left alone when he needs to be, gardening, tea of all kinds, libraries, old stories, archery, horse riding, knives, outsmarting stupid nobles, Aldir and Ryo, his apprentice and likewise his former teacher, spicy food {the hotter the better}, traveling

▬ Dislikes: Animals that have no point, being called damaged, being coddled - he is NOT a child, foolish religious people, having other’s ideals forced onto him, discrimination, fighting for the sake of fighting, moronic little assholes, people who use position to gain what they want, bullies, being touched without permission, flirting {if you want someone, just fucking tell them stupid}, sweet food, cold weather, snow, parties

▬ Hobbies: Painting, drawing, collecting old tomes, pissing off his parents, building models, gardening, brooding spectacularly, outsmarting stupid nobles

▬ Character Tropes: Dark and Troubled Soul; When Dad Met Mum; Abusive Parent; Byronic Hero; The Quiet One; The Wild Card, Parental Issues; Parental Abandonment; Daddy Issues; Mum Is A Bitch {if that is not a trope is bloody well should be}, Big Brother Instinct; Bi The Way; Archer Archetype; Death Seeker; Jerk With A Heart of Gold; Friend To All Children; Tall, Dark and Handsome; Tall, Dark and Snarky; Badass Bookworm

▬ Additional Information: Will literally lose his shit at being called an animal. Daenir spent twenty years of his life being likened to an animal by his father and his mother, the first one to treat him as an actual human being was Cóven VI

♛ A B I L I T I E S ♛

▬ Pyrokinesis: an ability often associated with war. Most witches born in Veotis are born with an affinity for either earth, air or water, Daenir’s ability with fire is frightening and at the same time another way to show that he is not a Veotis native.

▬ Electrokinesis: Daenir barely has a grasp on this ability as it is. It is mostly responsible for the tangled, chaotic mess the sorcerer calls hair. He can create, shape and manipulate electricity

▬ Hardening: This skill is inherited from Daenir’s father, whilst he hates the man, the skill itself allows him to turn his body into a living weapon. There is one weak spot but Daenir has only told one person and that is the King

▬ Armed and Unarmed Combat: the skill is self explanatory but Daenir excels more with knives and the bow than he does with a sword

▬ Able to fumble his way through any conversation with a shy smile and incomprehensible mumbling

♛ F A M I L Y ♛

Fucked up. There is no other way to describe it. Feredir and Malrin consummated their love to hate your guts relationship after a drunken encounter in the middle of a storm. The Witch Hunter stole away with the child when he was barely a week old and turned him into a weapon that hunted his own kind. Feredir wants his weapon back, Malrin wants her son dead, Daenir just wants to train his apprentice, keep witches safe and stay loyal to the king.

▬ Feredir Havel || 49 || Father || Karl Urban || Witch Hunter

If ego had a proper name it would be Feredir Havel. He is a prideful, manipulative, charismatic man who takes pleasure in twisting others to his cause. He dislikes witches and the freedom they have, often taking great joy in killing or imprisoning them.

▬ Malrin Échon || 46 || Mother || Charlez Theron || Head of the Witches Guild

Meaning lady crowned with gold. Malrin is the Head of the Witches Guild and seen as the most powerful witch in Veotis second to none until Daenir comes into his full power. She dislikes the fact that he can outdo her in just about anything without trying, the fact he spent the better part of six years actively killing and hunting his own kind might have something to do with it. Malrin cursed her son to hear the dying cries of those he has killed for the rest of his days

▬ Caladwin Échon || Deceased || Sister || Kaya Scodelario || Witch

She’s dead, nothing else to say

♛ B I O G R A P H Y ♛

Born the only son of Feredir Havel and Malrin Échon, Daenir spent the first years of his life being nothing but a tool to his father’s endgame. Feredir and Malrin consummated their love to hate your guts relationship after a drunken encounter in the middle of a storm resulting in the birth of Daenir a month earlier than normal. When he was barely a week old, Fereldir had his hunters kidnap his son and bring the baby back to Calia where he would spend the next fourteen years being raised as an ‘unofficial’ weapon to hunt his own kind.

Daenir committed his first hunt when he was a few months shy of fifteen, whilst it was widely known that the hunt went spectacularly wrong in every way possible, the truth being much bloodier than that. False intelligence was given which resulted in the death of a young witch and her parents, an act that would only serve to fuel the boy’s hatred of his own kind {and come back to haunt him years later}.

Whilst Feredir kept up his charade as a respectable Witch Hunter who kept to the law, he continually sent Daenir out into the world in order to rid the world of ALL witches. This carried on until Daenir was eighteen and came to the attention of his mother, now head of the Witches Guild in Veotis. Daenir killed the wrong witch who happened to be his half-sister and ended up spending the next year running from the wrath of his own mother, a woman he didn’t even know.

The hunt ended back in Veotis in the heart of the Aedis Forest where Daenir was taken down by the combined effort of the entire Guild. A curse was laid upon Daenir to hear the cries of his victims until the day he died, and then he was locked away into the darkness of Aedis Prison with a single warden who would be rotated by Malrin every month. Whilst the woman didn’t want her son to die just yet, she didn’t want him to be free to go about his life like he hadn’t caused harm to his own kind. That was her revenge for the death of her dear daughter.

When Cóven and his royal guard found the prison hidden in the Aedis Forest, Daenir was near feral from being chained and locked away for so long. With the assistance of Cedric Ebe, Cóven was able free him from the magical bindings and take him back Aecor and the Summer Palace to try and help bring him back from insanity, helping him heal along the way.

With the assistance of Lady Helaena from Astronia and her apprentice Lady Everleigh, Daenir was able to come back to the world a bit at a time until his mind could function properly. After four years in darkness, he found it hard to trust anyone, first opening up to Cóven and then Cedric after he took up an apprenticeship with the Royal Sorcerer. The feeling of trusting someone was so unfamiliar but the knowledge that he actually belonged somewhere was something that Daenir accepted even if his mind told him no.

After meeting his mother in the middle of an Advisory Council meeting, Daenir was forced to come clean with his past, he half expected to be thrown back inside the darkness of the prison and his own mind. Instead of rejection, Daenir found acceptance from both his master’s and soon found himself inheriting the title of Royal Sorcerer when Cedric decided to retire. During the years he has been active in his current role, Daenir has taken to trying to right many of wrongs committed in his earlier years and bring peace to the world a little bit at a time.

♛ O T H E R ♛

▬ Has a pet Nyrk gifted to him by his father when he was a child. Aldir {named after the God of War} is incredibly aggressive to everyone but Daenir and the King. Ryo, a rare Panthera in Veotis, was a gift given to him by the former King, the beast is loyal and far more friendly than his counterpart Aldir

▬ Daenir is basically Fenris and I will fight you if you say otherwise

#veotis #daenir Échon #tasha's work

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