#btv-artober

[knuttydraws]

BTV Artober 2022 - 9. Gravity

Definitely hoping Rylen is stronger than the force of gravity in this particular case 😎

Unexpected reunions at Skyhold do be like that 💖

#artober #btv artober #dragon age #knight captain rylen #lavellan #farie lavellan #rylen #non inky lavellan #dragon age inquisition #da:i #dragon age fanart #artober 2022 #rylavellan

[thedastrash]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragon Age - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Male Cousland/Nathaniel Howe, Cousland/Nathaniel Howe Characters: Nathaniel Howe, Male Cousland (Dragon Age), Cousland (Dragon Age), Bearnard Cousland Additional Tags: Morning Sex, Armor, Leather, Love Confessions, Romantic Fluff, they are soft, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Kinktober, artober Summary:

Nathaniel comes to bed from the night watch and wakes Bearnard for the start of his day.

Kinktober Prompt 4: Morning Sex Artober Prompt 4: Armor

#nathaniel howe #warden cousland #nathaniel x warden #dragon age #dao #daa #kinktober #BTV artober #bearn cousland #dragon age oc

[noire-pandora]

DAY FOUR-ARMOUR

I’m once again participating in BTV’s Artober event. BTV (Beyond the Veil) is a Dragon Age discord server. If you’re interested in joining, you can do it by clicking this discord link .

This can also be found on AO3. Reblogs, kudos and comments are welcome and very appreciated. 

Elluin's skin itched with the fury of a thousand ants biting into her flesh as the slippery sweat slid over her reddened skin until it soaked the fabric of her trousers. She winced in discomfort, but Cassandra gave her a look that told Elluin to sit still until the squires, young humans who lavished in helping the Herald put on the heavy armour, had finished their work.

Why Cassandra insisted on forcing her mage body into armour worthy of a mighty warrior she did not understand, but she accepted being paraded in it nevertheless. The Seeker insisted that the people of Skyhold would find their courage to defeat the horde of corrupted Templars preparing to lay siege to the castle.

"Cass," she said finally, as two of the humans pulled tightly at the fastenings of the breastplate, trapping her chest into a painful stillness, her breath barely finding the room to squeeze into her lungs. "How is this supposed to help people find their courage? I look ridiculous in this."

"You do not look ridiculous at all, Inquisitor. You underestimate your ability to intimidate and impress with your body and your pose."

Elluin rolled her eyes and scoffed incredulously at Cassandra's words, for she was not a warrior who threatened others with her gauntlet fists or armoured muscles. But before the words to contradict Cassandra had the chance to escape her lips, her friend crossed her arms in front of her chest and eyed her critically before speaking, "I have seen your body transformed and steeled over the course of your training with me. From the weak mage who barely had the strength to carry her own staff, you have grown into a powerful leader who can carry the weight of the world on her back." Cassandra stepped forward to close the distance between them and placed a hand on her armoured shoulder. Elluin's legs trembled, and she could not help but wonder if it was the added weight or the confidence Cassandra washed her in. "You have grown since we first met. Wear that armour with pride, In-no-Elluin, for you have earned it.

Elluin puffed in amusement and wistfulness at the long ago times when she did not have to wait for three humans to clad her in shining, fire-like armour made of bloodstone and matched to her magical powers. "Well then, I feel much braver now. Let's hope that's enough to survive until sunrise."

"We will survive. For we will use your courage as armour, and we will stand together and defeat the fools who seek to invade Skyhold - our home."

#dragon age #artober #btv artober #fanfic #fanfiction #elluin lavellan #cassandra

[darethshirl]

artober day 28

Noble/Royal

Bhelen’s head was buzzing from victory and the finest dwarven ale when he left the coronation party. Shouts and laughter still echoed along the palace corridors as he headed to his new quarters—the royal quarters, finally aired and opened after his father’s death. He turned the knob with a grin on his face and a triumphant feeling in his chest.

But his celebratory mood died out when he saw who was waiting for him inside.

“Hello, brother,” Sereda said, sitting on the edge of his bed like she owned the place, her normally expressionless face adorned with a smirk. “Did you like my gift?”

Bhelen didn’t bother hiding his snort. He tossed his crown at a nearby table. There had been a moment, during the Assembly, where he’d almost thought she would place it on her own damn head. “Here to exact your price?”

She blinked, as slowly as a topside snake. “Your eternal indebtedness is enough for me.”

He bared his teeth in a vicious smile. “That debt will be cleared with your death. Which, Stone willing, is both imminent and inevitable.”

She only hummed, unperturbed. “We’ll see,” she said, and rose gracefully to her feet.

Bhelen eyed her as she walked past him. “Well. My money is on the Archdemon.”

Sereda abruptly turned around. “You know what, Bhelen? I should be the one thanking you. You’ve also given me a gift: you taught me how to be ambitious.” Her black eyes glittered like onyx. “I’m aiming high, these days. Higher than a measly throne.”

“Measly, is it?” he scoffed. “And what could possibly be better than—”

He broke himself off as the answer came to him. He gaped at her, incredulous. “You can’t become a Paragon just because you wish it!”

The smugness on her expression was undeniable. “I think it’ll be a fitting reward for the hero who ends the Blight.”

“Provided you don’t croak first,” Bhelen growled, “like the pathetic vermin that you are.”

But Sereda simply shrugged off his words, as was her wont, and walked towards the door. “I’ll see you when I return to Orzammar,” she tossed over her shoulder, along with her meanest, most poisonous smirk. “Have fun, brother. While you still can.”

Bhelen spat at the door as it closed.

#artober #btv-artober #dragon age #my writing #the aeducans

[musetta3]

BTV-Artober ‘Halla’

So this is inspired by the golden halla in Dragon Age Inquisition and medieval illuminated manuscripts. I like the gold leaf frame best :)

#artober #artober 2020 #artober2020 #btv-artober #halla #dragon age art #dragon age inquisition #golden halla #medieval manuscript #illuminated manuscript #gold leaf #my art #knotwork

[sunflower-fieldy]

Artober 2 - Dreamer

Today’s prompt was Dreamer!  AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26465875/chapters/65321578 Text below cut. 

The first time Eleanor dreamed was miraculous. She had dreamed before. Dogs chasing her. Being stuck under the raining sky with her lid to protect her from getting wet. Walking with people without faces. Empty, barren fields. But then she really dreamed. She dreamed in the way no one ever talks about. She opened her eyes to the same empty, barren fields. A sight she was used to seeing. A sight she’d come to expect. Not a soul around here. Simply brown grass as far as the eye could see. Grass so short that it didn’t blow with the wind. A light rain pattered on her shoulders. She didn’t have her lid. Oh no. She would get rained on. Just for a singular moment, she wished she had even a leaf to protect her. And there it was. A small, green leaf, crunching in her hands. She looked at it in disbelief. Her small prayer, granted. But she had crushed it. Was it too much to ask for another leaf? She held her breath, and she wished again. This time, she held her hand open. And there it was. A small, green leaf, resting in her palm. Rain sprinkled on it. It really was there. She wondered for a moment and wished really hard. Suddenly, the sky was falling with leaves. Everywhere, as far as the eye could see. Her eyes widened. She wondered and wished again. A small plate of rice appeared at her feet. A great smile appeared on her face. No more hunger. No more begging for food. No more being shooed. The flowers she talked to, her only friends, could now talk back. The toy the boy had in the street, could be placed in front of her. The possibilities were endless. The world was in front of her. And it was hers and hers alone.

#artober 2 #btv-artober #artober #dreamer #prompt #prompt response #prompts

[the-ham-juice]

Day Three - Imperium

Welp, I couldn’t paint it, but hey! It’s Mae! 

#Artober 2020 #btv-artober #maevaris tilani #dragon age

[dragon-age-my-beloved]

There is a moment in life that can break away from all the others,

A moment where you realize it is not an isolated incident, whether it was your fault or not never seems to matter.

A moment where your heart seems to settle lower than where it had before and you wonder if it could ever find it's way up again.

Maybe it has happened before, maybe at the last sight you had of an old friend. Maybe when a child of yours almost falls down the stairs.

Or when a loved one you had thought was the essence of life itself loses every drop of it with their last breath.

Some moments turn the memory of a final exhale from a morbid haunting to merciful ending.

Green reflected off the eyes of everyone who still had the capability to use them.

Nearing the end of that day there were less seeing, and more filled with a milky gloss.

There used to be songs in the taverns, blostering stories of heros of old and new.

Now we only hear silence or screams, anything in the middle feels like a betrayal to those we lost.

The swirling vortex that scars our sky and blocks out the stars that once gave us solace from the blistering sun.

Now some of use our eyes to stare it down, daring it to blink first.

But most avert our gaze, whether to not provoke it or simply to ignore its existance is uncertain even to them.

The peace once promised from the holiest amongst us now simply pappi of wishes on the wind. A wish lost to the screaming light that seared itself into our minds.

The heart doesn't raise from the stomach, the same as most of our eyes. For those who fell prey to their fear it became a lothing anger that swept over the village like a plauge.

But some hold gently to their hearts, hoping to be protected behind the thin cloth of their new home. Hoping to keep warm.

There is a moment in life that can break away from all the others,

The breach takes our lives as payment for the gifts we never asked for.

If it simply comes in a different form there is no reason to take it with stride and confidence.

Keep them in shackles. This was no isolated incident.

There is only so much we can pay for before this demented form of currency is depleted.

#artober2020 #artober #da artober #btv-artober

[kita-lavellan]

Beyond The Veil Artober; Day Two - Dreamer

Prompt: Dreamer. Word Limit: 500max. Beyond The Veil Discord Artober Prompt, Day Two.

Kita has always been comfortable in the fade, but walking there now, after the breach has torn the sky in two, is perilous. Not just for her, but for the uncorrupted spirits she encounters too.

Ao3 Link: HERE

Read More Under the Cut ^_^

Dreamer

Kita had always felt safe in the fade.

Her control over the environment solid and unwavering, but dreaming in the fade after the conclave explosion, after the breach appeared, was different.

More unstable. More dangerous.

The spirits that usually clamoured to speak with her, or even just watch as she formed the world around her by sheer will, were missing. Fleeing the breach as far into the fade as they could run, or twisted into demons by their proximity to the waking world.

There was a spirit now, she could see it's illuminated form flickering, wavering, as it struggled to hold onto what it knew it's purpose to be and Kita shut down her thoughts and expectations.

The moment she took control of her thoughts, locking up any preconceived impressions that might influence the delicate spirit it turned to her and fled from the glowing rim of the breach to her side.

A small wisp of energy, the spirit swirled around her ankles, and danced through her hair, drawing a smile to Kita's lips.

"Who are you?" she breathed, and a single word impressed itself upon her mind in answer.

"Joy."

Joy, a simple emotion, and yet deep. So close to the breach, Kita didn't allow herself to consider what Joy would corrupt itself into, and gently cupped her hand, allowing the wisp to settle there.

"You should fly, Joy, as far away from here as you can, find the small joys in other parts of the world," she warned, but the wisp just danced in her hand.

"There are Joys to be found here, you bring hope and hope sparks Joy."

The spirits words almost had Kita's control slipping, almost had her emotions spilling free as 'Herald of Andraste' rang through her mind, both an accusation and a cry of rejoice that made her skin crawl.

"There are still greater Joys to be found elsewhere, with less danger to yourself, my small friend" came Solas' now-familiar lilting voice.

The spirit wavered again, but slowly disentangled itself from Kita's hair, lifting itself free of her hand, and drifting deeper into the fade, it's meandering speed indicative of its reluctance.

"Most mages would not choose to aid a fade spirit," the strange apostate mused quietly, and Kita swallowed hard, making sure that her will was still standing strong in their malleable surroundings.

"One less spirit corrupted, is one less I must fight and kill while awake," she offered, but Solas' eyes were fixed on hers.

"This is true, but not the entire truth."

Kita held her silence, merely raising an eyebrow at the mage beside her.

"You are far more comfortable than I would have expected so close to the breach..." Solas continued to prod, but Kita finally allowed herself to laugh softly.

"As are you, Somniari," she challenged, enjoying the flash of surprise in his eyes that she had recognised his abilities, just as Kita felt herself slowly waking, the fade fading around her.

"Until next time, dreamer."

#Artober #BTV-Artober #Discord #Beyond The Veil Discord #Beyond The Veil #Kita #Kita Lavellan #Lokita #Lokita Lavellan #Prompt #Writing #My Writing #Arista #Arista Holmes #Fanfiction #Dragon Age Fanfiction

[5lazarus]

BTV-Artober, Day 24: Ruins

Solas resists the urge to lend wisdom to the King of Ferelden. If you liked this, read more at Overheard at the Hanged Man

The elves are sacrificing a hind under the sapling they planted in the courtyard of Tarasyl’an Telas. Their Second is leading the song, Coran of Clan Boranehn. Though half are from the Edgehall alienage, they all know the song. Some are weeping. Imladris told him that they lost a fourth of the People, first from the arl’s attack, and then from the journey to Skyhall. Solas cannot understand the words, but he watches from the edge of the crowd. Many of the elvish servants and some soldiers join in. A powerfully-built man with tapered ears joins him. Solas is surprised. It is the king of Ferelden, in plain clothes. “You’re the Inquisition’s elvhen history expert, right?” Alistair asks. “Don’t you know the words?” “No,” he says. “I don’t know this dialect.” It isn’t real, he thinks, it isn’t Elvhen, it is some corruption one thousand years after the fall of the People, when his lieutenants failed to rally the People together and they all fell in this catastrophe. He is living beyond the end of the world, and the language is grating. The mourning is grating. They do not even know what they have lost. Alistair is infernally good-natured. “Ah, not Ferelden, are you?” The king sighs. “I’d like to join, you know, but, with the Chantry what it is--my mother’s there, at least. It’s a little too elvhen nationalist for the king to sing. But it goes something like this,” he begins to singsong, badly, “ the people, Mother, the people, they slaughter the deer...poor me, I will live far from here, but our day, Mother, our day, the People’s day, our day, spring is rising…” Solas raises an eyebrow, and Alistair smiles bashfully. “It’s much prettier in Dalish. I don’t know a single elf in Ferelden who doesn’t know this song. Except you, I suppose. Very old folk song. The Chantry doesn’t like it because it’s about the Halla Mother, but,” he shrugs his shoulders, “you can’t keep us out of the Chantry and expect us to worship your god, you know?” “A rather open-minded attitude for the sovereign of Ferelden to hold,” Solas comments. He has been the counsellor of kings before. He has little interest in maneuvering Ferelden through a religious reformation. Who has the time? The Blight is here. He shifts, hoping Alistair will leave. He should not have left the rotunda. Alistair laughs a little, uncomfortable. “I’m not a king right now. Here, I’m an elf, a former servant of Arl Eamon, mourning the purging of Edgehall.” “You may have the ears of the People,” Solas says sententiously, “but that does not mean you have the soul.” He thinks to himself: you’re beginning to sound like your own father, graybeard, and that was a pedantic thing to tell a petty king, but why should I humble myself before a shadow? I have been humbled enough. I am here. I will not let the People lose its definition. We are more than a pair of pointed ears, and unending public grief. “Ugh, you’re one of those,” Alistair says. “And you’re not even Dalish.” He shakes his head and walks into the crowd, putting an arm around Fiona. Solas watches the elves mourn and feels his skin crawl with his own pettiness. They are empty, dreamless, fleeting, aping rituals their ancestors long forgot. They are less real than the certainty of Skyhold, sharp and sturdy regardless of the Veil. They might breathe, they might sing, they even pull at the Veil like a child clinging to their parent’s robes, but they cannot cause the land to bleed with their grief. They cannot sing spring into rebirth and set the seasons right. What the People are has been lost. These little folk songs will not restore it. Solas turns around, thinking: there is much to do, so little time. But it cannot be lost. It will not end with me. It cannot be lost.

#btv-artober #artober #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age #fanfic #alistair #solas #skyhold #living past the end of the world #dragon age inquisition #elves #fiona #edgehall

[melisusthewee]

DAY 31: INQUISITOR/HERALD

We've reached the end of Artober! Since it's the finale, I felt fancy and gave this one colour and a background. Because I know you've all missed Quinn and his dashing smile. ;)

I will have a master post up with all of this month's art later this evening for any that you might have missed!

#btv artober 2021 #inquisitor trevelyan #dragon age inquisition #dragon age #m!trevelyan #herald of andraste #trevelyan #oc: quinn trevelyan #melis draws stuff

[knuttydraws]

BTV Artober 2022 - 2. Storm/Shelter

Sketch number 2! Fluff with a tiny bit of angst and spice.

Told ya they often read field raports together ^^

#artober #btv artober #dragon age #knight captain rylen #lavellan #farie lavellan #dragon age inquisition #da:i #dragon age fanart #artober 2022 #rylavellan #non inky lavellan

[thedastrash]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragon Age - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Anthony Pentaghast/Female Surana, Anthony Pentaghast/Female Warden, Anthony Pentaghast/Velaneth Surana Characters: Anthony Pentaghast, Female Warden (Dragon Age), Female Surana (Dragon Age), Velaneth Surana Additional Tags: The Calling (Dragon Age), Blindfolds, Gentle Sex, Tenderness, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Sensory Deprivation, Mabari, Potato Cameo, had to bring in Potato Summary:

Tony blindfolds Vela for a quiet afternoon indulgence.

Kinktober Prompt 6:  Blindfold Artober Prompt 6: Calling

#anthony pentaghast #female surana #female warden #dao #dragon age #kintober 2022 #kinktober #btv artober #lemon #I am catching up!! #I'm doing my best lol

[noire-pandora]

DAY ONE- Tavern

I’m once again participating in BTV’s Artober event. BTV (Beyond the Veil) is a Dragon Age discord server. If you’re interested in joining, you can do it by clicking this discord link .

This can also be found on AO3. Reblogs, kudos and comments are welcome and very appreciated. The increasing bustle in the Herald's Rest acted as a balm to Elluin's weary being. With her bottom too sore to sit on a chair after weeks of riding on horseback, she leaned against the farthest wall of the tavern, watching and listening to the people who spent their afternoons in this warm place.

Elluin knew most of them by name and could recite the names of their children, wives or lovers by heart. She even knew the names of their horses or the pet names they used for their weapons. After months of gathering in the same place to escape the biting cold of the mountains, a special kind of camaraderie developed between sips of stale beer and dirty jokes.

The smell of sweat, dirty boots and melting snow rose to her nostrils, but instead of grimacing in disgust, Elluin grinned, for it was the smell of life, of people who were still alive and not in danger. Proof that she was able to protect a part of those she cared about, even if a mad god decided to trample on them as if they were just chroackoaches to be crushed mercilessly.

A wave of laughter rose in the tavern, sure of a joke she had not heard. Her heart leapt in her chest, almost as if it was begging her to join them, to bask in the joy and share a mug with them. Instead, Elluin waited, watching each of them, trying to refresh her memory of their features, their smiles and grins. She memorised the sounds of their laughter and boisterous voices, fuelled by the alcohol and the warmth of the fire that burned in the hearth.

Among the soldiers and blacksmiths, the horsemen and scouts, Elluin found the strength to fight for another day. To resist the Mark that burned deep into her flesh and the pull of despair that tugged at her mind.

"Herald, don't just sit there," grinned one of the men rolling dice on the table. "We need one more to start the game. Wanna join us?"

Elluin's nearly empty pockets warned her not to play with one of the biggest cheats in the tavern, but she grinned back and ignored the tug of logic. After all, the world was ending, who cared about a few lost gold coins anymore?

"You bet I do, but if I catch you cheating, I'll burn your fingers."

The crowd gathered around them and laughter vibrated in the air again. Elluin knew she had already lost her coin, but who cared if she got to hear the joy of those around her?

#dragon age #fanfic #elluin lavellan #btv artober 2022 #day one: tavern

[darethshirl]

artober day 5

5. Traditions

“Tell me again,” Fenris grunted, his arms straining under the weight, “why we’re doing this?”

Marian was struggling with her own side of the felled pine tree, her face obviously flushed and sweating. “Because it’s tradition, Fenris, I told you.” She blew ineffectually at the strand of hair stuck to her cheek. “Every Wintersend we go to the woods, chop down the prettiest tree, bring it home and decorate it!”

“That’s no custom I’ve ever heard of,” he grumbled. They had reached the staircase by now, and he waited while Marian carefully negotiated the steps. “Are you sure your parents weren’t playing a practical joke on you?”

She huffed a laugh despite her breathlessness. “Don’t be an ass. It’s not my fault Tevinter doesn’t have the climate for a proper Wintersend celebration.”

“Hmm.” He remained unconvinced. But then again, what did he know about normal people’s traditions?

Finally, after a trek that was far more arduous in practice than what it sounded like in theory, they placed the tree at its seat of honour. It dwarfed the small and cosy drawing-room, infusing the air with a fresh piny scent. Slowly, gradually, they decorated it with cheerful garlands and colorful ribbons, with delicate porcelain figurines hanging from the branches and glinting in the firelight. 

The last, most precious decoration, Marian carefully took from a box well-insulated with cloth: it was a star made of crystal, fragile-looking and expensive. It went up on the very top of the tree, her arms trembling slightly as she reached for it. She secured it, then stepped back to admire their handiwork.

“Carver always wanted to hang the star, when we were kids,” she said, voice filled with a cheeriness Fenris could tell by now was forced. “He hated that I got a growth spurt first, and one time he almost toppled the tree—and himself with it—when he jumped up to reach the top.” Her eyelashes fluttered as she blinked, too swiftly to be normal. “And Bethany! Once when she was seven she dropped a figure of Andraste while trying to hang it, and broke it clean in half. She was inconsolable! She actually refused to hang anything else for years, and only helped father with the garlands.”

Her voice trailed off, a silence descending upon them. The happy memories made the room seem even emptier somehow, even bleaker. Of her family, there was no one left. It was just the two of them now, standing in a too-small room in a too-big mansion, staring at a tree orphaned by the forest.

Fenris stepped forward, and squeezed her hand. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

She breathed in, deeply, then squeezed him back.

#artober #btv-artober #my writing #dragon age #fenhawke

[musetta3]

BTV Artober Day 5, ‘Warden’

I am SO excited to share my Artober Day 5 entry with you for ‘Warden.’ It’s all digitally embroidered by hand. 

#artober #btv-artober #BTVartober #artober 2020 #gray warden #warden #embroidery #this took forever #but so worth it #my art