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eavangeek · 2 years

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Guns and Roses: Ch. 7 - The Blue Rose

Pairing: Male Inquisitor/Cassandra Pentaghast, Male Cadash/Cassandra Pentaghast

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: After the Hero of Fereldan in the Dragon Age, The Champion of Kirkwall during the Blood Age, Thedas has been at peace for most of the Silverite Age. However trouble brews between the New Templar Force and the Enchanter Colleges. Agent of Truth, Seeker Pentaghast, has been sent to the Free Marches city of Ostwick to investigate why they have been unaffected by the rise in violence...

Tags: FtM Cadash, Trans Character, Mob Boss/Secret Agent, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Secret Identity, Minor Character Death, Mild Gore

Total Word Count: 103,884

Chapter Word Count: 2272

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Author’s Masterlist || Ao3 Fic Link || Ao3 Author Link

Twitter || Patreon

“I must apologize for her,” Kallak turned his attention to Vivienne. “She showed up at my shop yesterday and is hellbent on knowing everything about me.”

“And here I was thinking you were the only bachelor in Ostwick left.”

“What- No. No no no, she’s not. We’re not. Ugh.” Kallak put his head into his hands as Vivienne laughed at him.

“My dear there’s no need to blush. How long have we known each other?”

“Since you came to town, if memory serves correct.”

“And to think, I was once under the impression you were with that elven woman, what was her name again?”

“Tael?” Kallak laughed, “oh she would hate it if she knew that. No, she’s just a good friend. We go back further than… huh, guess we’ve been friends longer than some of your postgrads have been alive.”

“Hmm. But I did call you in for business.”

“Oh?”, Kallak leaned forward. “Did you have any problems with the last boutique?” A code, in case they were being listened to. The transfer from yesterday was meant to come directly to the College, but if something had happened...

“No my dear, your flowers were marvelous as always. But I do think we’ll need another boutique next month. Just before the ball of course, but perhaps it would be wise to separate them from those meant for the ball itself.”

“I’ll have my boys see to it. Same price, but it might be extra for special care. Hate to have an incident like last year.”

“That would make two of us.” Vivienne took a sip of the her tea, the cup heated from magic. Kallak knew she only used the iced tea when he was coming, but she hated drinking it cold.

“So, how’s the rest of your planning going. Big event, the anniversary ball.” Kallak got up from the chair, knowing that he looked like a child trying to lean back in it. He took the pitcher of tea off the side counter and poured himself another cup, offering some to Vivienne, who politely refused.

“It’s fine.”

“That bad, huh?”

“I’ve had to hire on two new assistants because of mix up between fireflies and fire lights.” Kallak hissed, shaking his head as he took another sip.

“Oh it’s just,” Vivienne put her hands to her temples, her usually elegant posture gone as she tried to calm another headache. “I do love this time of the year, but it’s gotten ridiculous beyond belief.”

“Well, next year is only gonna be worse. It’ll be 100th, oh what do they call that in fancy speak. Emerald? Diamond?” Kallak smirked, knowing Vivienne would correct him.

“Platinium, my dear,” Vivienne shot him a look, her elegant posture back as she took a sip of her now steaming cup. She stood up, facing the reflective mirage. It was an illusion of course, the lack of noise making it obvious. Kallak moved to stand next to her, holding his own cup.

Ostwick was lovely this time of year. Even through the mirage window, Kallak could spot the Vhenadahl, it’s branches nearly overtaking the rooftops in the center of the Old Alienage District. The Market was floating past, bright Riviani canvas and Antivian pleasure ships the only one’s on the river, and just beyond the Districts laid the famous double wall. There were two entrances, one to the rest of the Free Marches, the other to the Waking Sea. Vivienne sighed, placing her hand on Kallak’s shoulder. She rubbed at his binder, reminding Kallak to stand taller and breathe deeply.

“I heard you finally booked yourself in for a surgery.”

“Yeah well, the reduction was nice, but I figured I’d wait until I had enough money to get it taken off. It’s hasn’t really been a bother, but it’ll be nice to wear nothing with my swim trunks.”

“I’m glad you’re happy in your skin, my dear.” Vivienne glanced down at him, a soft look on her usually guarded face.

“At my age, there’s not a lot else I’ve got left.” Kallak grinned, just as Vivienne walked to her chair. “After all, these damn kids and their new age thinking. What’s next? The Dalish holding Noble Titles?”

“Kallak, you are Dalish.”

“Ah ah ah. I’m half Dalish. They won’t take some child o’ the Stone, no siree.” Vivienne rolled her eyes, a rare smile crossing her lips as Kallak played his elder card.

“As I was trying to get to say,” Vivienne began, “I actually called you here for preparation on the Platinum Jubilee. You’ve been hired as our florist, of course, but I already have something in mind for the arrangements.”

“You don’t want to argue about this year’s arrangements? Well, color me impressed.”

“Charmed, really. No I have already proved your arrangements for this year, our gardeners are following your instructions for it. I was told by a young bird that you have dabbled in genetic floristry. The designing of flowers without the use of magic or cheap tactics such as food coloring in the water.”

“Well, Snapdragon has had a few unique flowers created for our clients, all through a mixture of basic biology and Dalish botany. We might not be able to make corn grow in the winter, but our flowers can last longer that most.”

“What about different colors? Say for example, Silver Lilies and Blue Roses?”

“Are we talking about living flowers?”

“If I wanted true silver lilies I am well aware I could simply go to our Smithing Building.”

“Well,” Kallak rubbed at his goatee, “Silver Lilies… the actual flora would be difficult to breed, but cross pollinate with, oh Amrita Vein? I could give you silver leaves and stems. The edges of the petals might be green though.”

“So the Lilies don’t sound like they’ll be a problem. And the roses?”

“That’s gonna be impossible. There’s no gene for blue roses. Only two ways that people have it in the past. Color dye in the water, which we both now is tacky and cheap, and magic. I’m no mage, but something makes me think you don’t want to involve magic in this arrangements.”

“It will be our Platinum Jubilee, and I would love to show off the magical talents here in Ostwick. But with the College Riots sweeping Thedas, and rumors flying that the Divine might make an appearance in Ostwick for the occasion-”

“The Divine is coming? To Ostwick?” Kallak felt a cold sweat run down his back.

“Just rumors for now my dear, but the White Spire is at war with the Chevalier Prestige, and news is that is it’s not about competitive sports this time, but the Game itself.”

“... How blue are we talking.”

“I’m not expecting sapphire, though that would be ideal. No, a sky blue to match Ostwick’s colors would do splendid, but the bolder the better. No red undertones, having purple roses would not suit us, considering that we would not wish to cause a scandal with the Nevarran diplomats about how we’ve taken their colors from them as well as their brightest pupils.”

“True blue, probably have to start with white roses then, so as not to get a fuck-up strand that ends up burgundy. A year is pushing it, but I’ll see what I can do. If push comes to shove, I’ll just have to bargain with security and explain why there’s an aura on the flowers.” Kallak heard shouting outside the door. Vivienne raised her eyebrow at the commotion as well.

“You expecting anyone after me?”

“A minor celebrity, he came to town to research his new subject.” Vivienne walked over to the door, waving her hand over the privacy rune. “You’ll find it amusing, he’s wanting to write about your grandmother.”

The door opened and Cassandra was in a fighting stance, a dwarf with strawberry blonde hair and a five o’clock shadow standing opposite. His silk red shirt and black scarf marked him a graduate of Kirkwall College, one of the rings on his finger had the year, “11:23”. Kallak sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He took a descending orb from the front desk, and continued to walk towards the exit. Cassandra followed behind.

“Kallak, I can-”

“Not here.” Kallak refused to look at her, his conversation with Vivienne and Cassandra’s behaviour giving him a migraine. Cassandra had the decency to remain quiet the entire walk back to her car.

She pulled out of the Astronomy parking lot, the rain having finally lifted, grey clouds still hanging in the air. The city was quieter at this time; they made it back to the shop in half the time it took them to get to the College. Kallak saw that the bakery across the street was busy, a queue outside. The picnic tables had umbrellas, the gaudy pattern reminding him of their cocktail relatives. He clenched his jaw, not knowing why they would decorate their front so terribly. Maybe that was the whole point.

Cassandra turned off the engine, the both of them sitting in her car. Kallak was stubborn, but he got the feeling that so was the Seeker. Eventually she started to talk.

“I don’t harass dwarves.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” “I knew him. From… a previous investigation.” Kallak grunted, turning his head to look away. He could see the Seeker’s reflection in the glass. She looked upset, as if she knew what happened was embarrassing and things had gotten out of her control.

“... Vivienne said he was a writer.”

“Vivi- oh, the First Enchanter.” Cassandra rubbed the steering wheel, as if holding onto it would ground her. “Yes, he is. He… wrote a book recently. ‘The Tale of the Champion’. He... put me in it.”

“Hell of a way to flatter you.”

“It wasn’t flattering, actually. I was painted like some kind of thug. Ironically enough, he wrote himself into the story as well. The only reason I- my character is in the story is to harass him.”

“How’d that work?”

“It was written rather unique, I suppose. Much like a confession, one character recalling the life of the Champion in Kirkwall during the Blood Age, the other an interrogator, wondering why his story didn’t match what we know from history books.”

“...You were the interrogator.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.” Kallak meant it. Cassandra looked over at him, and he saw her shock in the windows reflection. It reminded him of the first time he took in Cole as an employee. How Sera was shocked when he agreed to keep quiet about the Red Jennies. How Tael looked when he said he wanted to go legitimate for the girls.

“You never did get to ask your questions today, Pentaghast. Come back tomorrow, I’ll be as honest as I can.” Kallak faced her, both had put their masks back in place.

“I will, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, I’m still a suspect to your murdered dwarf.” Kallak felt the side of his mouth turn up, knew what it would look like. He held her gaze for a beat longer, and then got out of her car.

Cole was still making bouquets. Soft music played from the radio in the corner, a soft lullaby. The migraine from the day's events slowly left, the tension in Kallak’s shoulders bleeding from his body. Cole looked up and smiled, placing a finished bouquet on the display stands. It had ferns and wildflowers, the centerpiece being two sunflowers, their centers white and petals red. A specialty flower, one that Sera helped to create when she first started.

Kallak walked down the long hallway, noticed that on the corkboard Cole had been crossing out the clients who have showed up, and then a note was pinned delicately next to it. The handwriting was elegant, but done as if a deep emotion had moved the writer. ‘He did wonderfully, the funeral went off without a hitch. I tipped the boy, please keep him. -Lord B.’

‘There is love in your body but you can't get it out/ It gets stuck in your head, won't come out of your mouth/ Sticks to your tongue and it shows on your face/ That the sweetest of words have the bitterest taste’

He kept moving, going into his office. At some point the cleaner came by, all the pencils from this morning were in the coffee mug his daughter got him one Feast Day. It read ‘World’s Shortest Dad’, and had bits of ribbon and twine wrapped around the handle. He never drank from it, also using it as a pen holder. Kallak sat in his chair, putting his head in his hands.

His mind was spinning. The world was falling apart, and to top it all off the Divine might be coming to his city? Was that why the Seeker was here? Had he assumed wrong? If Cassandra was in the city to scope it out before Her Most Holy showed up, then what was Bull doing on his street? Was someone planning to attack the south, when the Colleges were fighting the Templar Force and the Chantry struggling to hold on to what little power it had left on the people? Why did one of his men die, a man who got Kallak’s blessing to leave the Carta? What did it all mean? Why was everything happening now? When did he get so old?

“I wonder what Cassandra’s favorite flower is.” Kallak looked around his office, hoping no one heard him say that. The song on the radio faded, and Cole and continued to hum the tune. Arlof Cadash voice broke through the static, bringing afternoon traffic.

#gnr #volkswritten #trans character #male cadash #kallak cadash #cassandra pentaghast #oc x cassandra pentaghast

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blarfkey · 3 years

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Writing Tag Game

I've been tagged by like ten people for this so thank you everyone who tagged me! @redinkofshame, @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold, @kunstpause Consider yourself tagged if you see it and like it.

How many works do you have on Ao3?

38!

What's your total Ao3 wordcount?

702,253. I would love for it to be more but I am a slow writer lol

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Woodstock 83 --3480 Kudos

Xmen fic set after Apocalypse where Peter keeps getting these golden opportunities to tell Magneto/Erik that he's his son, and keeps chickening out at the last minute.

I know I wasn't the only one who walked out of that movie theater pissed that Peter came so close to admitting this secret since the previous movie and never did, so I wrote a fix it.

2. The Sun Will Shine When Morning Comes -- 2567 Kudos

The sequel to Woodstock 83, told in Magneto's POV where he's coming to terms with being a father while he cares for his sick son. This is probably my fav X-Men fic I've ever written because I loved having these two figure out what their father/son relationship would be like long after Peter has grown up and how Erik has wanted a child again but doesn't know how to process having one.

3. Jail Break -- 2488 kudos

The first Peter & Magneto fic I ever wrote and the first fic I ever published! This takes place post Days of Future Past and it shows how Magneto could have found out that Peter was his son and build that reluctant connection. Peter has a lot of freaking out about whether or not he wants to accept a supervillain as his father.

4. Clowns to the Left of Me, Jokers to the Right -- 2396 Kudos

The third part of the series Jail Break Started. For some reason this is the most popular one shot in the series. In it, Peter has a huge fight with Magneto and then gets kidnapped by The Bad Guys and doesn't think his dad will come bail him out. But of course he does! And murders everyone in the compound to do it.

5. Two Lonely Souls in a Fish Bowl -- 2361 Kudos

The direct sequel to Jail Break where Magneto keeps showing up in the dead of night to visit Peter as they both figure out how they want this weird parent relationship to be.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always! Even if it takes me a while. I love the interaction and I want people to feel noticed and appreciated.

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

Um, i don't really like angst. I think it would be Spark Me Up for Xmen. Professor X/Magneto angst with my first ever written smut. It was a remix of another person's fic for an exchange and they had an angsty ending so I kept it.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

The last installment in the Jail Break/Come Together Series -- Shine On You Crazy Diamond. In it, Peter's little sister Wanda comes into her powers and they go through a lot of pain before she settles into them. It ends with Peter's mom coming to stay with them and her, Peter, Wanda, Erik, and Charles becoming one big family. I've had several people tell me it made them cry lol.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you've written?

I'll write something like a set of characters from one fandom in the set up/premise of another fandom/piece of media. Like Dear Fen'harel is a crossover of Dragon Age with an old book called Dear Daddy Long Legs. But I don't combine different universes of different fandoms, it's too weird for me and I can't buy into it.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

took over and finished. We have an AU in our plans but so many other fics keep getting in the way! Sort of? I wrote the first part of a Solas/Maria/Varric series that@cartadwarfwithaheartofgold

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I did receive a weird, angry message on one of my Xmen fics because they didn't like a fight that had happened between two characters but didn't read till the end to see it resolved so the bitched at me for the fact that the fight was mean? Which made no sense. But other than that, nope.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes! Though it's not as much as my non-smut. I didn't write smut for so many years because I didn't think I knew how. I tried to write some out a few years ago and kept it to myself until one of my tumblr friends read it and said it was really good! So shout out to @salexectria, you're the reason why I write and publish smut!

I write all kinds of smut, from dub con to vanilla, from f/f, m/m, and ace spectrum characters. Its all about the characters and what would fit them/the situation more than it is about a specific type of sex.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If I have, I don't know about it.

What's your all time favourite ship?

Ummmmmm, that's hard. I don't think I have an all time favorite. I will say that Charles/Erik (Professor X/Magneto) was my first ever "otp" that I got completely obsessed with. Actually, I have never been that obsessed with another pairing. I write pairings that I enjoy or that I want to see a certain dynamic from, but that doesn't make them my favorite above all others.

I do really love Solas/Cadash and I prefer Solas rare pairs like Solas/Dorian, Solas/Cassandra, and Solas/Josephine over Solavellan.

What's a WIP you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I will never not finish a WIP. I hate it when it happens, even though I know IRL gets in the way, but it's so frustrating for me as a reader. So I will finish all my fics. However, I am very slow and very busy so it may take a while.

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and character voice. I also am really good at developing friendships and platonic bonds or the slow burn get-to-know-you part of a romance. Apparently I write good smut, though its very hard for me lol.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptions and transitions and pacing.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

The only thing that bothers me is if they never put in a translations somewhere and you have to just kind of guess. I don't care about reading something in another language and having a footnote or a note at the end of the chapter. I do it all the time in DF. I do think that putting "said in {insert language here}" is a bit of a cop out.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

The first ever fandom I wrote for and never published was Harry Potter at 13. I wrote a story about a muggle neighbor who had to emergency babysit the baby Weasleys and was shocked by the magic. But I tried to submit it to a website that only published fic by application and it didn't get in and I was like "whatever, I'll just read fic" and then didn't touch fanfic again until I was . . .24 or 25 lol. I mostly focused on my original fiction.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

I can't possibly have one favorite. I do really love my Peter fics, especially The Sun Will Shine When Morning Comes. I love my ACO fic with Apollo!Alkibiades. I love my Solas/Cassandra friendship fic Time Does Not Bring Relief. And I love Dear Fen'harel, of course, because it has so many things I wanted to change for Solavellan or didn't find, as well as a good analysis of myself and how I deal with anger and sorrow and homesickness, ect. through Ellana.

#asks #fanfic #writing #dear fenharel

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shutupaboutandraste · 3 years

Note

Welcome to the DADWC! Here is a prompt for you! Restaurant AU, with the characters of your choice!

Thank you so much for the prompt! I hope the drabble is to your liking.

Word Count: 1655

Pairing: Cullen/Bull

For @dadrunkwriting

Going to restaurants was an added benefit of being friends with Vivienne. Madame De Fer’s Critiques was the formal review column that she ran, seemingly dictating the future of upper echelon restaurants. This was not one of those restaurants. A greasy hole-in-the-wall bar and grille had been Bull’s desired stop of the night. She had dragged her friend around all day from place to place all weekend. Now out of reviewable restaurants, Bull had desired food with fat and grease and everything else bad for you.

“Couldn’t have picked a place a little cleaner?” she asked, her nose turning up as she sat down at the bar with Bull.

The place was smoky with dark lighting, harsh yellow incandescent lamps hung from the ceiling and came out of the wall at each booth. The ones at the booths had a dirty stained glass look to them, mixes of the deep yellow with rich reds and blues. The cushions were worn red leather. Booze wafted around them, mixing in with the scents of mouth-watering food.

A gleeful smile crossed Bull’s face as he shook his head, “Absolutely not. You dressed me up for your fancy shit, now we get to eat where I like, Ma’am.”

Vivienne tutted, “I’m a fine dining connoisseur. This bar food won’t impress me unless it tastes like gold.”

“I hope not,” Bull told her, “I think gold food would taste pretty shitty.” Vivienne groaned.

From behind the bar, a curly-haired blond man approached, shaking a martini mixer vigorously. That certainly caught Bull’s eye. Firm fingers held the silver cups, curling at the tips to keep the glass in place. A wry smirk came over Bull’s lips as the man’s rhythm slowed before he poured the drinks before carefully sliding them to another couple of patrons. A tired, but gentle smile was turned his and Vivienne's way, reaching beneath the bar and pulling out two menus, placing them before the duo. “Welcome to Herald’s Rest,” he said, “My name’s Cullen--”

“Bull,” he interrupted with a wink.

Cullen seemed taken aback, no doubt trying to figure out if that was deliberate or a blink, but did his best customer service smile. Bull avoided cringing. Okay that was the wrong move for this guy, then.

“Nice to meet you,” Cullen said before diving into the specials for the evening as well as the unique drafts they had that night.

Vivienne actually looked almost impressed at the selection, which was probably the best this place would get from her. Both of them ordered their meals in quick succession-- a whiskey bourbon burger for Bull and a salmon salad for Vivienne. She wasn’t sure she should trust the fish here, but Cullen assured her that they always bought their fish fresh every morning. The owner would allow nothing less than perfection when it came to quality.

“I will be the judge of that, dear,” Vivienne had told him.

And, to Bull’s surprise, she judged it quite well. Much to his delight, he watched her sneak out her phone, quickly tapping away some notes in the folder that held her restaurant reviews. As Cullen made his way back over to check on them, she quickly slid it back into her purse. Her shoulders rolled back into a confident smile while Bull leaned forward on the bar.

“I hope everything is to your liking,” he said, taking away Bull’s empty glass, “And you’d like a refill?”

“Please,” replied Bull. Cullen quickly got to work mixing a cocktail for Bull. Normally, he went for straight liquor, but oh what those hands could do.

Vivienne told him that everything most certainly was. They chatted pleasantly while Bull watched, silent and studying. Their bartender was certainly well-kpet-- firm stubbled chin, a lip scar that seemed to enhance his face rather than detract, perfectly curled and styled hair, even his shirt-- a black tee that had ‘Herald’s Rest’ emblazoned on it in bold letters-- was fitted to perfection. Eventually, of course, a crack had to show. As Cullen finished pouring the drinks, he set down the shaker to clasp his fingers. To the naked eye he might have just been trying to crack his knuckles, but Bull could see that they were shaking.

“You alright, man?” he asked, with a mark of genuine concern in his voice.

A real smile crossed Cullen’s face this time as he nodded, “Yes, my apologies, I’ll have your drinks in a moment….” True to his word, Cullen was able to give them their drinks, though Bull watched as the man kept his eyes trained on his fingers, as if waiting for them to betray him. Thankfully, they lasted long enough to deliver them safely. He nodded, “Let me or Sera know if you need anything else.”

At hearing her name, the other bartender, a blond elven woman with hand-cropped hair, looked up. Cullen gave her a nod which she nodded back to before moving to handle her customers again. Bull turned to make sure his good eye watched Cullen slip into the kitchen. A small frown took over his face-- Vivienne would say he was pouting, but he didn’t pout.

Though, instead, finishing her meal, Vivienne slipped out of her chair, “Unfortunately, I need to use the powder room.”

“Have fun with that,” snickered Bull, casting her a wry glance before turning his attention back toward the door.

He stayed like that for a while before he heard someone huff. He turned to see the elven woman--Sera-- looking at him, grabbing some empty dishes and glasses from the couple next to Bull and Vivienne who had just left. Instead of speaking, he just shrugged at her.

“Don’t worry ‘bout ‘im,” she said, “Takes a bit ‘fore he can come back. Shakes and all.”

“He okay?” asked Bull.

“I jus’ said don’ worry ‘bout ‘im, right?” she told him, “Yeesh.”

True to her word, Cullen did reappear just as Sera said no more than five minutes later. Vivienne still hadn’t come back from the bathroom, which was concerning. He hoped that fish had been up to quality despite how the bar looked. Bull watched Cullen flex his hand, leaning against the wall as he looked nervously at the bar. Bull slipped out of his seat, taking Vivienne’s purse with him. Mainly, because she’d kill him if he didn’t.

“You gonna be okay?” he asked.

Cullen looked up at him like a deer in headlights, his fist curling up protectively. That was good-- the man had fighting instincts from somewhere. Layers laid beneath that pretty face. It wasn’t unusual for Bull to flirt with a bartender, but Cullen had been a fun puzzle to figure out and Bull wasn’t quite done. No… He might need a few more visits before he had completed it.

“Yes,” he replied, sighing, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you unattended.”

“You’re good,” Bull rumbled, “Ma’am’s at the bathroom anyway.”

“...You call her Ma’am?” he asked, head tilting as though he were a young Mabari and not a full grown man. Bull couldn’t help but stare openly, a smile echoing on his face.

“Friend of me,” he clarified, “She hates Viv and Vivienne is too long to say.”

Cullen actually let out a soft chuckle, “Ah, I see. Well, I hope she finds our restrooms to her liking as well. Not every day a critic walks into our bar.”

Now that had caught Bull’s attention. Vivienne made extra precautions to make sure no one discovered that there was a food critic in her midsts at any restaurant. It came with the territory of getting an honest review. Yet, her Cullen had stated her profession like it was plain as day. Bull crossed his arms.

“You figure that out on your own?” he asked.

Cullen shook his head, “No… Someone like her doesn’t normally walk into The Rest for… obvious reasons. I mentioned it to our assistant manager, Leliana. She’s the one who said she was, uh, oh… that Orlesian blog I can never remember the name of. Madame something. Made sure to treat her as anyone else. Leliana believes special treatment gets you caught once you know.” He chuckled nervous, reaching up a hand to rub the back of his neck, “I.. should get back to work.”

“Let me do the honor of escorting you,” Bull said, motioning toward the step toward the bar. That little jibe managed to get Cullen to snort a little before hurrying over back behind the bar with a quick, yet confidant gate. That was a military man’s walk. Just who was this bartender?

Bull followed, taking his seat again and resting down Vivienne’s pocket book. Behind him he heard her starting to walk up.

“Of course!” a woman with a thick Antivan accent said, “We’d love to be featured! I can get an interview with our owner, of course. I’ll call Ms. Cadash right away.” Bull and Cullen shared a knowing glance, but pretending as if Cullen was simply cleaning a glass from the dryer.

Vivienne took her seat, smiling at Cullen, “Feeling better?”

“Yes,” he said, “Thank you. Refill?” Vivienne nodded.

“A new drink, please. Fanciest you have, dear, for me and my friend,” she ordered, “I’m not sure what it will be, but surprise me. I don’t get to find such diamonds in the roughs, often.”

“Because you never go to them,” laughed Bull.

Cullen quickly got to work going through what they had until he actually managed to find a nice bottle of champagne which Vivienne said would do nicely. Vivienne toasted Bull for his find, though she admitted she was not going to be kind about the décor. Still, no matter how a place looked, good food would always be good food.

They made sure to tip Cullen handsomely. And, if he found a slip of paper with a string of digits on them, well… Bull would leave it up to him to call.

#da drunk writing circle #dadwc #prompt #da #dai #cullen rutherford #the iron bull #iron bull #ironlion

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drunken-drengr · 3 years

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Your OC and the Solar System

I was tagged by @noire-pandora and @illusivesoul, thank you both! In return, I’ll be tagging @dungeons-and-dragon-age and anyone else who would like to do this!

bold what applies - italicize sometimes - strike out never. tag some friends to play along! & repost don’t reblog!

As per tradition, I’ll be doing this for Karrie Cadash, perhaps I’ll do one for Thragnr Aeducan later, who knows.

SUN • egotistical • melted wax wings and fingers • stretching sunburnt skin • the most generous soul • blood in the fruit • halos • anger on fire • high vitality • thunderous laughter • is pride really a sin? • halogenic aura

MERCURY • expansion of the mind • silver-tongued • an everlasting wanderer • polyglot • high dexterity • handwritten letters • innately critical • en vogue • eyes in the trees • hidden libraries • there’s always room for improvement

VENUS • in love with strangers • iridescent waters • love potions for your mirror • selfless devotion • shattering crystal • seafoam upon sand • the golden ratio • drowning in your own passion • material value & high principles • luring • plush lips

EARTH • fresh springs • tree hugger • we can start again tomorrow • a blazing rainforest • respects survival of the fittest • nature’s adversity • lazy bones • constantly evolving • flowers sprouting from wounds • a granite altar • fossilized remains

MOON • illusory • silver shimmer off the ocean • secrets and gossip • cycles of reincarnation • a crybaby • physically ethereal • shared glances with a stranger • cat eyes • mistrusting their intuition • fear is a prison • ornate magic wands

MARS • healthy competition • attraction and repulsion • magma and rubies • a blade being forged • wrath wrath wrath • malefic • intense eye contact • cannon fodder & fireworks • blood floods • copper taste on your tongue

JUPITER • red robes and a suit of armor • beacon of stability • leader by birth • thunderbolts and lightning • guilty but can’t stop • secret rich kid • golden touch golden tears • innate optimist • failure isn’t an option • constantly reaching for more • unfinished symphonies

SATURN • traditional • overbearing energy • a sculptor of reality • this existence is a karmic one • has a heart it’s just.. way down deep • law, order & justice • avoid all necessary risk • the sound of shackles clanging • sisyphus’ struggle • grappling with the reality of time • self-governing

URANUS • psychedelic funk music • overflowing cups • a rebellion with skin • looking good in photo id • oblivious but caring • middle fingers in the air • double rainbows • icy diamond exterior • holographic • afraid of their own mediocrity • pearlescent smoke

NEPTUNE • an elegy for the lost • dissolving boundaries • white horses • the burden of mystical conditions • deceptive • escapism is their reality • a polarizing entity • artists soul • paranoia • searching for the unseen • a siren’s swan song

PLUTO • angel statues over graves • power • the cycle of necrosis • transformative • unfathomable depths • an ivory tower toppling over • screaming at the sky • violets and irises • eclipsed darkness • speaks with their shadow • sex, death, rebirth.

#this was fun!#tag game #dragon age #dai #karrie cadash

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cobaltash · 4 years

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And here we are! The dwarven edition of SixFanarts! I am delighted to present:

Valtor Cadash, who bonds with Cassadra over smutty literature, belongs to @queen-scribbles

Marja Aeducan, who is so amazing and has a brilliant political mind and a will of steel, belongs to @aban-ataashi

Darvis Brosca, who used his words to reason with a “nug with fur” and it worked ;), also belongs to @aban-ataashi

(and really, before I go any further, I gotta recommend Of Diamonds and Dust, by @aban-ataashi which is beautifully written and brings the two dwarven origins together; I’m on chapter 10 right now and I’m having so much fun with it!)

Henric Cadash, who has a tender heart and a great sense of style, belongs to @josephine-dax

Duran Aeducan, who favors the role of a tactician over command, belongs to @jarakrisafis

River Brosca, who is very excited to be on the surface and who adopts an assassin, belongs to @smutnug

#sixfanarts #dragon age #dwarf #cadash #inquisitor cadash #aeducan #warden aeducan #brosca #warden brosca #I'm so happy I decided to do this #it was so fun #and I found and amazing fic on the way #seriously guys go check it out #if you like dwarves you'll love it #I really hope all of you will like how the drawings turned out #stuff I drew

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jarakrisafis · 4 years

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BTV OC Question time! Does your character swear? Frequently or rarely? Under what circumstances? Do they remember their first swear word? and Is there somewhere in the world your character has alway wanted to visit, but hasn’t yet been able to? Where? What about it intrigues them? Thanks!

Asks for this month have been taken over by the characters. I apologise in advance for any views they may express.

From Dasher Cadash:

Sodding fuck, that’s a lot of questions, what do you want a sodding essay? Whatever. Do I fucking swear? By the Paragons stone tits, does it sound like I swear? Do I really have to fucking answer that? Fine, yes I do, but not actually as often as I was just then. That bit of swearing by the way, was sarcasm, if you didn’t pick up on it. It’s usually just when something goes wrong or somebody has been entirely stupid. Like you know, you asking that was. My first swear word? I was told by a not entirely trustworthy source - my grandfather - that he taught me to say nugshit, or nug-sit as it was then, just to annoy my parents when I was still barely saying anything other than ma and pa.

I’ve always wanted to go down to the old Cadash Thaig. Never got round to it. It’s a big undertaking to go so deep into the old abandoned roads. Either that or you take darkspawn sensing equipment with you, otherwise known as go kidnap a Warden that’s doing their calling thing. And why do I want to go there? Really? Fuck off. My name’s Edric Cadash. If that doesn’t answer your question I don’t know what will.

From Warden Commander Faren Brosca:

You’ve clearly never fucking met me have you if you’re gonna ask that. Do I sodding swear… I swear like nugs on an aphrodisiac will fuck. Swearing’s part of a Carta upbringing. You got to fucking speak like the rest or they aint gonna listen to a fucking thing you say. And my first swear word was probably fuck, but sod if I know, aint like I remember that far back.

Nah, only place I ever wanted to go was the Diamond Quarter in Orzammar, get out of the sodding shithole that was dust town. Been there done that. And the surface is much the same, just differing amounts of water and greenery.

From Warden Constable Duran Aeducan:

Only when the situation absolutely requires it. There are far more grandiose words to use in place of such vulgarity. I believe my first swear word may have been shit. Mother was very unimpressed, I couldn’t sit down for a day.

I’ve always wanted to visit Tevinter, we got such interesting reports back from the Embassy there.

#oc asks #dasher cadash #faren brosca #duran aeducan

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sinsbymanka · 4 years

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WIP Wednesday! GwtAT’s Aftermath of Haven

Full Story at AO3!

The sharp bite of something ever colder than her skin sent him swearing. He shifted, gingerly withdrawing a tarnished silver chain from the space between their skin, the glimmering pendants nothing more than bits of ice against his fingers.

His eyes focused on them with a start, at first in stunned disbelief. Then in bewilderment. They weren’t pendants or charms, they were rings, a full damn set of wedding rings. A diamond large enough to make any debutante swoon and two plain, serviceable bands, a man’s and a woman’s.

Bea made a choked gasp, hands freezing in the motion of smoothing the blanket over Maria’s shoulder. “Sodding Ancestors. I thought they’d be gone for sure, I thought…”

Varric gently slid his fingers along the chain, trying to ignore the sharp burst of curiosity. There was zero chance that Fynn Dunhark legally married Maria Cadash, that information would have been in the court records and media coverage for sure. But… he could see how legalities didn’t matter. Not when you were young, not when the woman you loved agreed to take off from everything she knew and make a new life somewhere else.

Fynn Dunhark may only have had her for a short period of time before his untimely demise. But, he’d fully had his woman, no half-baked life full of lies and secrets. Varric would have sacrificed a lot for that same certainty too.

He’d have taken a bullet too.

Varric unclasped the necklace with a deft twist of his fingers and deposited the cold chain in Bea’s extended palm. She closed her fingers over them and brought her tight fist to her lips. “I didn’t realize she was wearing them. She’d have been… she’d have been fucking devastated to lose them.”

The tremor in Bea’s usually cool voice told him that Maria wouldn’t have been the only one distraught.

Tagging...

@kita-lavellan, @faerelden, @elfrootaddict, @anavakarian @silvanils @ranya-rants-da and whoever else wants in on this nonsense! ❤

#varric romance #modern!thedas #dragon age varric #in your heart shall burn #dragon age #inquisitor cadash #maria cadash #cadash x varric #inquisitor x varric #dwarf inquisitor #dragon age inquisition

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thievinghippo · 6 years

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1, 11, and 19 for Bethroot!

What was the first element of your OC that you remember considering (name, appearance, backstory, etc.)?

I knew she was gonna be a dwarf, no questions asked. I also knew I wanted her to have light brown hair and blue eyes, because I wanted something different than Anelle’s and Wynneth’s coloring. I knew that her mother was one of the most important relationships in her life. Narrah died two years before the Inquisition and Bethroot still misses her every day.

Did you know what the OC’s sexuality would be at the time of their creation?

I did not! I had to wait until all the romance options were announced before I had a better idea. Once I knew she would romance Blackwall and based on a little bit of the Cadash canon, I assumed she was straight. But then by the end of the game, I realized that if Blackwall wasn’t in the picture, she would have hooked up with Harding, and then I realized she wasn’t.

What is your favorite fact about your OC?

She had sex with the male Aeducan from the noble dwarf origin in DA:O, back before the Blight. She was in Orzammar on a business trip and ended up wining and dining him. So she’s had sex in the Diamond Quarter, in the palace. She heard from the grapevine that he had been killed and always felt a little bad about that.

#hippo answers questions #hippo does a meme #bethroot cadash #nightingaleseeking

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ielmoe · 6 years

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♡ OC Aesthetic ♡

Saw @brenaii do this and thought I’d do it for my girls :D

@ryanglitter, @goblin-deity & @fuckyeahmagesrights, if you’re interested, want to try this? ^^

- Ma’Lenna Lavellan - 24 years old -

[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. magic.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos. lithe.

[ WEAPONS ] fists. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. pyre. teeth. rifles.

[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. flint.

[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. moss. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. poppies.

[ ANIMALS ] lions. tigers. wolves. bears. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. crickets. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks .horses. cats. dogs. rabbits. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. rats. livestock. foxes.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armour. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. sweater. boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. duster. trenchcoat. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. ties. uniform.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. french fries. ambrosia.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. farming. ranching. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. yoga. pilates. electronics. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. blogging. phone. movies. theatre. libraries. books. comic books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. playing cards. poker chips. bar hopping. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. hiking. jogging. running. archery. swimming. basketball. baseball. soccer. tennis. exploring. camping.

- Naali Cadash - 26 years old -

- Penelope Trevelyan - 30 years old -

#Ma'Lenna Lavellan #Naali Cadash #Penelope Trevelyan #<333

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thenugking · 6 years

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Hi. Um, don't know if you're still doing this, but if you are - my Cadash, Malika (I liked the generic name too much to change it), is kind of a mob-princess type? Family are high up in the Carta, so she hasn't got as rough a background as, say, Brosca, despite still being heavily involved with organised crime. I tend to play her as massively resenting the fact that she was kept out of the business so much, acting only as a buyer for surface goods, when her sisters are both active Carta members.

Ohh cool!

Okay so this is not a full OC yet, but she makes me think of a planned Inquisitor I have who’s an intersex dwarf girl. Her dad was noble and her mum was casteless and no one was quite sure what to do with her so she spent a lot of her childhood being tossed back and forth between Dust Town and the Diamond Quarter. Which she’s super bitter about. She eventually left Orzammar for the Surface to get away from that and joined the Carta up there.

#thornfield13713 #ocs #carta inquisitor #intersex discrimination cw #is there a specific word for that I haven't been able to find anything??#just that and #discrimination against intersex people cw #asks post #marsh ocs #non marsh ocs

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tywvin-archive · 6 years

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tagged by: @hailderek & @casterlys, thanks <3

rules: bold what you prefer & tag 10 people

1. coffee or tea 2. early bird or night owl 3. chocolate or vanilla 4. spring or fall 5. silver or gold 6. pop or alternative 7. freckles or dimples 8. snakes or sharks 9. mountains or fields 10. thunderstorm or lightning 11. egyptian or greek mythology 12. ivory or scarlet 13. flute or lyre ( support the local stuff ) 14. eyes or lips 15. witch or fairy 16. opal or diamond 17. butterflies or honeybees 18. macarons or eclairs 19. typewritten or handwritten letters 20. secret garden or secret library 21. rooftop or balcony 22. spicy or mild 23. opera or ballet 24. london or paris 25. vincent van gogh or claude monet 26. denim or leather 27. potions or spells 28. ocean or desert 29. mermaid or siren 30. masquerade ball or cocktail party

tagging: @lilttlebird, @kleopatrar, @ohbiwankenohbi, @helenstroy, @daeneryn

ship tag;

rules: answer these 10 questions and tag 10 people

tagged by: @hailderek, thanks for tagging me and sorry for taking so long </3

tagging: @hermnione, @lsaks, @ohbiwankenohbi, @lahnister

ultimate otp: mclennon ( the beatles ) i’m sorry man i’m over my ‘shipping real people’ phase but

a ship you’ll always love: joyce x jim ( stranger things )

current obsession: kaz x inej ( six of crows )

a ship you never thought you’d like: kaz x inej ( six of crows ) ironically enough

a ship you liked but don’t like anymore: nancy x jonathan ( stranger things )

a ship you think should be canon: han x lando ( star wars ) i’m sorry but that would be such a power couple? like wow

a canon ship you hate: han x qira & ned x catelyn ( game of thrones )

a ship you’ve been shipping for years: mclennon

a ship everyone loves but you don’t care about: robb x thalisa ( game of thrones )

favourite rarepair: asha x ellaria ( game of thrones ) tho i don’t think this is a rarepair but it’s the only one i could think of

tagged by: @hailderek thank youuuu <3

rules: answer the questions (which you can change if you don’t feel like answering certain questions) and then tag 20 followers you want to get to know better!

1. Nickname? ele /ehleh/ lmao i guess idk how to translate it phonetically tbh

2. Gender? male

3. Star sign? capricorn

4. Height? 1,62/1,63 // around 5′3″ i think

5. Sexuality? bi

6. Hogwarts house? slytherin

7. Favorite animal? dolphins and bees

8. Average hours spent sleeping? 5 hours

9. Dogs or cats? cats but i also love dogs

10. Number of blankets you sleep with? 1 atm

11. What’s your dream trip? greek islands & south america

12. What’s your dream job? writer astronaut rip

13. When did you make this account? two months ago

14. How many followers do you have? 267

15. How many pets do you have? i have a wonderful, fat dog

16. Favourite party theme? idk? any kind of party

17. Favourite ice cream flavor? i don’t like ice cream but pistacchio

18. How often do you read? whenever i can, i try to have reading sessions every week but exams take up most of my time & i often only read at night

19. Favourite study locations? my bedroom, the library haven’t gone there in ages

20. Who do you stan? carrie fisher !!! and carl sagan i’d talk about people who are not dead yet but i used to stan morgan freeman and my heart has been crushed so i’m keeping my mouth shout until i’m sure my faves can’t do bad shit anymore :)

Now tag some of your followers! @kleopatrar, @daeneryn, @lilttlebird, @kleopatrar, @remuslpun

tagged by @remuslpun thank you so much!

rules: answer all the questions, add one of your own and tag as many people as there are questions // not tagging anyone because i’m sure i’m annoying as hell when i tag y’all in everything

tagging: x

1. coke or pepsi: coke 2. disney or dreamworks: disney 3. coffee or tea: both! 4. books or movies: books i think 5. windows or mac: i’d love to say mac but windows because i haven’t had a mac yet 6. dc or marvel: marvel 7. x-box or playstation: i think playstation bc there are more games i like for it but i don’t really play tbh 8. dragon age or mass effect: w h a t t h e f c u k 9. night owl or early riser: night owl 10. cards or chess: cards i don’t know how to play chess 11. chocolate or vanilla: chocolate 12. vans or converse: both but vans >>>> 13. Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash, or Adaar: what is this ??? what is thsi,,, 14. fluff or angst: BOTH, b o t h, both!!!! 15. beach or forest: forest because dysphoria :) 16. dogs or cats: cats but both tbh 17. clear skies or rain: rain, STORMS, T H U N D E R 18. cooking or eating out: eating out because my cooking skills are reeeeally bad 19. spicy food or mild food: mild food but i also like some spicy? it’s just that i’m way too white so sometimes it gets me fucked up 20. halloween/samhain or solstice/yule/christmas: christmas 21. would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: a little too cold 22. if you could have any superpower, what would it be?: body morphing/transformation because of my trans ass :) 23. animation or live action: animation coco come to me 24. paragon or renegade: renegade 25. baths or showers: baths but i shower bc we need to save the planet man 26. team cap or team ironman: team ironman <3 27: fantasy or sci-fi: b o t h 28. do you have three or four favourite quotes, if so what are they: “if i’m worth something later, i’m worth something know - for wheat is wheat, even if people think it’s a grass in the beginning” - vincent van gogh which is my favourite quote of all time

29. netflix or youtube: youtube bc i don’t have netflix lmao

30. Harry Potter or Percy Jackson: harry potter 31. when you feel accomplished: what :))) is that :)) 32. star wars or star trek: star wars!!!! han my love <3 33. paperback or hardback: hardback because of the aesthetic but paperback because i feel like i’m in the 80s ??? idk 34. horror or rom-com: neither,,, give me cartoons you cowards 35. tv shows or movies: i love both why would you make me choose? 36. spotify or pandora: spotify 37. zootopia or inside out: i haven’t watched zootopia so inside out 38. favourite book: the song of achilles / lord of the flies 39. favourite flower: p o p p i e s 40. what field of study are you in (or aspire to be in): linguistics (spanish & classics) 41. song lyric you really love?: “i wanna get lost in your rock’n’roll and drift away” by dobie gray 42. what’s your MBTI type?: infp but i’ve been told i look more like an enfp 43. fave movie: mulan??? moana??? coco??? how do you dare make me choose 44. favourite tv show(s): i used to love castle and sherlock and right now i’m getting into b99 but my favourite will always be game of thrones sorry not sorry + i watch a lot of spanish original series 45. what fictional world is your favourite? narnia & westeros 46. favourite mythological figure? achilles my heart and icarus

47. who’s your all-time favourite fictional character? tywin lannister, love of my life

48: if you could spend an entire day with a weasley, who would you pick? molly weasley tbh, what kind of question is that

49: what movie or book would you want to be the main character of? asoiaf BUT i don’t want to die i just want to ride dragons

thanks for tagging me! i don’t expect anybody to read up to this point but if you have, i hope you have an amazing day!

#🏷: tag games

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pb1138 · 6 years

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Under the Moonlight

Blackwall x Cadash, pure fluff. I think I mostly wanted to write this to describe my oc? I don’t know. I was lying in bed at like 3am and had to write it. It has absolutely 0 plot, just cute. ALSO when i wrote this i was unaware that dwarves do not dream. So. Cadash dreams i guess. Leave me alone

Warden Blackwall is and always has been a light sleeper. Living in the wilderness for half your life, that’s a smart thing to be. But nothing, no bears, no wolves, no wandering packs of Dalish or Templars or just general assholes could’ve prepared him for the whirlwind that is sleeping beside Lady Gemma Cadash.

Don’t get him wrong, every moment in her presence is a moment well spent, but he’s never seen anything quite like it.

At first it was a little awkward—he’d never been with a Dwarven woman before. The height adjustment wasn’t difficult, per se, but it was different, pleasantly so sometimes.

The first night they spent together he hadn’t intended on sleeping anyways. Truthfully, he spent most of it watching her, admiring her. She was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, Josephine included. She had tattoos all about her face, a way to show that she was casteless, not of Orzammar she said, though she admitted that it had been generations since her family had been outcast and nobody had ever told her why they were exiled in the first place. They were sort of faded blue grey colored, the end of a banner with a diamond on the bottom on her forehead leading into a squiggle down her nose, two lines on either cheek with 3 sword-grip-looking things beneath either of them, and beneath her chin a delicately sloping pyramid with another sword grip beneath it. At least, that’s what it all looked like to him. She said that at one point she saw some meaning in it but she’d quite forgotten what it was. It was just her face, now.

She had high, strong cheekbones across which some freckles (and usually dirt) were spattered. Her jawline was straight and well defined, coming to a subtle but strong chin. Her lips were full and a soft rosy red, but the softness of them could rarely withhold the bitter, biting words she often had for her enemies. Her nose aws his favorite part—a high bridge, a slight crook where she’d had it broken “by the ass end of this one guy’s tankard, the bastard,” and the tip could only be defined as button-ish. It was downright adorable, one of his favorite parts to stroke when he was feeling particularly snuggly. Her brow was, like the rest of her, strong but not assertive, her eyebrows maybe a smidge too bushy and a shade darker than her mahogany hair, but they were set above the most beautiful pair of upturned eyes he’d ever seen—the outside of her irises were a brilliant teal whereas the inside was set at a soft fuschia. When the light hit them just right, it looked as though she had diamonds in her eyes, and he knew firsthand that those diamonds were just as cutting as the real thing towards her enemies, but just as delicate and precious towards her friends, and almost always filled with love or compassion of some sort. She kept her eyes lined with prominent dark eyeliner and a black/violet-blended eyeshadow. Upon her left brow and reaching down to her chin, she bore a deep-set scar from where “some blighter got me with an axe. Should’ve seen what I did to him, though,” she boasts. She enjoyed it, as she did most of her scars. She wore them like a coat of armor, as if the history they represent should be enough to ward off any foe, to say that she has been through hell and she won.

Her hair was as dark as mahogany, kept parted to her right and shoulder length. It was his favorite when they slept because she was of a habbit to hold her face in the crook of her elbow, her hands tangled in the tresses. Every morning she awoke, it looked as if a crow had been nesting in it the night before, and he enjoyed watching the ease and expertise with which she brushed it back down, some mornings even managing not to swear.

Often the two lay together, just looking upon one another in the aftermath of their love. The dying light of the fireplace flickered and danced across her face as though it, too, were caressing her skin.

When they lay together, he was quick to notice she often talked (or, more aptly, groaned in her sleep.) Some nights he couldn’t be sure if the sounds coming from her were the result of a particularly exciting dream or she was having a nightmare. He usually didn’t know until he could see her face, to see if her brow was knit with worry or if her cheeks were flushed with heat. If he was very lucky, she might mutter a few words now and then, giving him some insight into the vast expanse of unusually detailed dreams. (The plot of just one dream could take her as long as an hour to talk through if he asked her about it early enough.) She really, really enjoyed telling Vivienne to fuck off, particularly after they came to Skyhold after freeing the mages and found Vivienne to be nothing less than a seething ball of anger. She had even gone so far as to have someone move Gemma’s furniture about, the petty wench.

Gemma liked laying on her stomach the best. She very rarely slept on her back if she could help it. One of her favorite places to lay, as he found was with most women, was draped across his chest, one arm reaching across to his shoulder, the other tucked up under her own shoulder. If she was feeling particularly affectionate, she might drape her leg across his hip, her toes just barely reaching his knees. He held her close, most nights, not caring how uncomfortable his arm could grow (especially since, once she was done on his chest she usually just rolled over onto her side, his arm still her pillow.) Each night he lay awake looking upon her, he wished with all his might he had the skill of a painter. Many nights were less graceful than his favorites—she was prone to drooling or clenching her teeth, and often she would either steal the blanket from him or throw it off the bed entirely, exposing them both to the harsh mountain air because she insisted lying beside him was like lying next to an active volcano. But in its own right, every night with her was perfect. A gift, even, and if he were a more religious man he might thank the Maker for his time with her. The way her small frame fit against him gave him an almost overwhelming sense of protectiveness, despite the fact that she could and would fuck up any blighter stupid enough to come into their room. (She had more than a few daggers tucked about around the bed, some under the edges of the mattress, one atop the headboard, he even had to talk her down from keeping one under the pillow.)

Most nights he would worship her body, even if they didn’t engage in any physical activity that night. As she slept, he would memorize every curve, every freckle, every scar, the shape of her ears, the valleys and crests of her body. Some nights, if he couldn’t sleep for the arguing of Cullen and the others below, he might recuse himself from the bed and just sit in a chair, watching her, watching her breathe, the small twitches, the moving of fingers, the frustration that she had to move and the relaxation when she found a comfortable position. Some nights, he might look away only to be met with the soft glowing of her eyes in the moonlight, and she would ask him to come back to bed, her voice barely a whisper, and he would. He would slip back under the covers and take her in his arms. She would bury herself against him, fitting perfectly under his chin. They’d fall asleep like that, her first, him whispering a gentle, “I love you,” against her hair. And it was perfect, the two of them, lying under the moonlight.

#blackwall x cadash #blackwall x inquisitor #cadash #gemma cadash #oc #blackwall x oc #blackwall fluff #blackwall fanfic #blackwall fanfiction #fluff

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theharellan · 6 years

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mood: emotional about cadri cadash and solas

specifically his nickname for her, mi’durgen, or “diamond.”

like i picked it b/c as a casteless, carta, surface dwarf cadri is sort of a diamond in the rough. she’s a good person, and trying to be a good person, but sometimes lacks the upbringing to show it (or at least as clearly as some other inquisitors do). also, though, the elven word for diamond literally means “knife stone” b/c as pretty and shiny as cadri is, she’ll also cut u. and solas loves that and he loves her.

(@cadashsmash)

#[ have i mentioned i would die for any of joly's ocs ]#( headcanons )#mi'durgen'len ( cadri )

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shaperoforzammar · 6 years

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“Being untouchable”

Eliza Cadash has a big, silly crush in Dust Town. The wonderful Fenny Brosca belongs to @fairithilien . Thank you for sharing her with us, both me and Eliza love her. Happy birthday!! <3 (slight warning for gore)

Eliza remembers being just a child - of fear, of flesh, of nothing, of anything but Stone, she used to tell herself- buried in the tunnels of Orzammar. In those awkward years when she was sprouting into adolescence, she was stretched in all sorts of uncomfortable proportions: large ears and long arms, a smile too large for her face.

Her thick brown hair was pulled into a curtain of dozens of braids that framed a timid, dirty face. It was something of a ritual in her family, where they would braid each others’ hair. A middle child, she had only ever had responsibility over her youngest brother, but took her turn at feeling small sitting at the feet of her oldest sister.

One day, at the age of nine or ten - the years in Dust Town blur - her sister had been caught in a moment of equipment failure in the tunnels. Her hand had been crushed in a pulley, her fingers miraculously still attached but bent out of shape. Eliza, one of the carta’s smallest runners, had been much further down, spelunking in a claustrophobic cave where the light of a sole torch exaggerated shadows on the walls. But she heard her sister’s screams.

Days later, the screams were still echoing in her head, ricocheting inside of her skull. Her sister’s hand would never recover, wrapped in strips of cloth that her mother had torn from her tunic, the room, packed with family members eerily silent. For the first time, Eliza had sat down, her sister on the floor between the curve of her legs, and took the older woman’s darker hair into her fingers and wrapped a strand of it around them playfully. When her sister complained about her tugging too tight, she offered a teasing remark about about how all of her life had been. It didn’t land well, and she grit her jaw to swallow down the numb that worked its way into her bones.

Immediately after she was done, Eiza bolted outside, into the dim corridors of Dust Town. Stumbling as she did, gasping dramatically for breath caused a few heads to turn. They were all opportunists, gang members and the devastated alike, looking for fresh prey. She raised the scratchy tan of her tunic, stained repeatedly from various substances, over the waistline of her pants to reveal a dagger strapped to her hip. They immediately turned back to whatever they had previously feigned interest in.

She was thankful she didn’t have to fight. Her heart wasn’t in it today, and this was her last good tunic left. Not knowing where to go, she took a sharp turn and began heading somewhere, the small corner of Orzammar that was Dust Town hardly something new to explore. Part of her wanted to go run through the Diamond Quarter just to see the rich stone-kissers squirm at the sight of her. Maybe she could spit in their drink. They’d surely die from the shame of it alone.

She almost laughed at that, kicking up dirt as she walked past the tavern where drunkards hollered, their distorted voices echoing in the cavernous ceilings. She wondered if the drunken laughter of the Diamond Quarter elite sounded as much like the howls of a darkspawn in the dark. Pausing for a moment, she rested on the step of an abandoned ruin, exchanged by various different businesses over the years but empty at the moment.Leaning her head against the faded white stone, turning brownish yellow with decay, she looked at the stalactites that speared down towards them from far above as the ceiling vaulted to an apex above the Commons, further backing them into a corner.

Nah, those snobs would laugh like the squeals of a dying nug.

A trail of footsteps jerked her instinctively out of her thoughts, one hand instinctively reaching for her waistband as her head snapped upwards. And when she saw who was walking by, she sunk lower down the wall, as if willing herself to disappear in case she could glance over.

She wasn’t sure the older girl knew she existed, and if she did it would be for the time she had dropped an entire crate of freshly mined lyrium ore and, in her blubbering, had begun picking up the pieces with her bare hands. That had been nearly a year before, the first time Eliza could remember seeing the older girl, and had been so stunned it struck her silly. The emotions and urges of adolescence had not so much snuck up on her as slammed her over the head. A furious blush crept up her cheeks at the memory of the events, and she buried her face in her hands.

Every time she saw the woman, it was as if she got more beautiful. Eliza scooted further down the wall, until she was nearly laying flat on her back. How could everyone else not react in a similar fashion, she wondered. Brosca, someone else in the carta had called her. Her older siblings had talked of her approvingly once as Eliza listened in, pretending to be disinterested as her heart pounded loudly in her ears.

Brosca had broad shoulders, sturdy, and even through her armor the outline of her muscles was clearly defined. Her legs were especially astonishing, exerting great power with every stride through the dirty streets. Each step seemed powerful. She glistened through a layer of dirt and sweat, the majesty of the statues of the damned Paragons pulled into flesh and breathing before her.

Climbing out from under her collar and dotting the tan skin of her face was a scattering of freckles, like she had ground a deep amber into dust and blown it across her form. Some of the older dusters, bent into the corners they had been forced into, had told her stories growing up of the great big sky on the surface, and how it regularly got dark and patterned with lights the humans called stars. Eliza imagined it looked something like Brosca’s freckles.

Though she hardly ever met eye contact with anyone from what Eliza had noticed - and Eliza noticed a lot where Brosca was concerned - the one time she had seen her eyes had been stunning. Deep brown, but with a flare to them, like the flash of a forge when a sword was being willed into being at the brunt of a hammer. They were framed by stern, arching brows. Though dark, the hair that grew, incredibly short, on the top of her head was an even darker color. Eliza still remembered her awe that a woman could have so little care for her hair and be so beautiful. That it cut the lines of her face into sharp relief. It was a bold choice, and one that made her jaw drop.

Maker, she had it bad. As Brosca left her frame of view, Eliza found that she was propping herself up on her elbows, not wanting to lose sight of her. Her braids fell into her face, and for the first time that day, she felt like laughing. In fact, she almost felt a little bit brave.

Standing up with a hop, she followed the direction Brosca went, a spring to her step. “Hey, what’s shaping?” she called, voice cracking embarrassingly. A couple thieves in cracked leather armor walked in front of her, and she pushed impatiently past them. Bouncing after Brosca again, Eliza wondered if she should appear casual, maybe ask her about her about the day, any gossip, how the carta was going…

How the carta was going?

Slamming her face into her hands, she groaned, exaggeratedly. Following her further into the dilapidated city, Eliza wondered what kind of things Brosca would seek out to buy, or who she would spend her downtime with. She seemed to walk with a steely determination, as if a new rage had overtaken her.

And it had, as the older woman appeared to be on a warpath towards a man with blunt, almost smeared looking tattoos on his face. Ducking behind a crumbling pillar to watch, Eliza saw that the man was crooning over a woman with fiery red hair pulled up into what were clearly very practiced buns made of smaller braids. She had seen Brosca with that woman a lot, and had deduced that they were sisters. The redhead was scowling, batting away the man’s hands. He seemed annoyed at her rebellion, and with a yellowing grin snaked his hand up her neck and tugged at the knots of her hair. With a shriek, some strands of the red fell free not just from the buns but from her head.

Hands balling into fists, Eliza wanted to leap out of her cover and launch all of her too-small body at the man who was likely double her weight due to muscle alone. But she froze as Brosca instead grabbed the man’s arm and twisted it behind his back. His ghoulish face contorted in pain as a sickly pop came from his shoulder. He moaned in agony as the arm hung at a strange angle, still trapped in the form of his armor. Eliza’s jaw dropped.

Brosca growled something that she couldn’t make out and dragged him to his knees, pushing his head into the dirt. The man was wailing pathetically now, and Brosca couldn’t pay him any notice. She turned immediately to the redhead, who looked as pale as a newborn nug, tears welling in her eyes. Breathing fast from both anxiety and relief, Eliza raised a hand to her chest, wanting to be that bold for her own sister, for anyone who deserved it. She watched, feeling like she was intruding on something deeply private, as Brosca cupped her sister’s face in her hands, and drew their foreheads together for the briefest of moments. It was such a fleeting and unsuspected moment of gentleness that Eliza gasped in awe, then ducked behind the pillar and sunk towards the ground again, hands spread out in the dust.

A few minutes passed before Eliza could compose herself enough to peak out. Brosca was completely stoic again, across the square as she seemed deep in negotiation with a trader. Her sister appeared to have left, and she hoped it was to somewhere safe, if such a thing existed in Dust Town.

When Brosca left, unceremoniously turning on her heel back towards the “neighborhood,” Eliza couldn’t help but trail behind her, wanting to return to her own home as well. The older girl plowed through the crowds of tired, broken bodies expertly as Eliza struggled to keep her in sight. Leaping forward at one point to avoid being trampled, she instead found her footing confused by the uneven levels of the dirt. She fell hard on her hands, wrists already aching as she let out a small shout.

The sound of it was enough that Brosca turned around quickly, hand straying to her own blade.

Eliza froze at the girl’s gaze, unsure of what to do. Was there recognition in her eyes? She couldn’t tell. They were thrillingly unreadable. “Hi!” She shouted finally, just as Brosca started to turn back around. “I don’t know if you know me, but, uh, I just wanted to say…” she trailed off in a panicked hush. What did she want to say? What was her objective here? “You...are so...you’re very strong!”

Brosca raised an eyebrow, and Eliza was shocked to see in the girl’s face a trace of amusement. The blush returned to her cheeks and she was sure she was more red than hurlock blood.

“I just…it’s, I...” She looked at the ground, at a trader whose worn down wares were laid out on a tarp behind Brosca, anywhere but at her face, and then said loudly “THOUGHT THAT YOU SHOULD KNOW!” Eyes growing wide, she forced her voice down and whispered, “because, you know, it feels...good. To know how you’re, just, the absolute best of the vein.”

Oh, she was on loose sand now. Hopefully it would just swallow her up, and then she could join the stone like all the elites said she couldn’t do. “BYE!”

Eliza stood there awkwardly for another second, painfully aware of how many eyes were on her. Sod it, she thought, and took off running, tripping over her own feet again as she urged herself out of there. If the stone didn’t take her, maybe she could claw to the surface and fall into the sky. The stars wouldn’t know about how embarrassing Eliza was around pretty women.

Turning corners instinctively, Eliza quickly fell into her own house, breathing hard as she collapsed against the door of rotting wood. Just her luck, every single member of her family was inside, and turned to look at her, clothes dirty-stained and eyes wild with excitement as she let out an excited giggle.

Her younger brother threw a ball composed of flexible tubers gathered by her in the side tunnels straight at her face. Eliza couldn’t stop grinning even as it hit its target and bounced off of her cheek. Her mother and father laughed and her brother jeered. Sitting in the far corner, her oldest sister sat, nursing her injured hand, but still smiling. Finally, Eliza was able to look at her and admire the dark black braids her fingers had sewn, and had been tied into a bun on top of her head since she had left.

“She only has that face when she’s seen Fenny Brosca,” her older brother jeered. The whole family erupted into laughter. It made the small, confined, roughly hewn walls of their home feel fuller, softer.

“Her name is the Paragon of Beauty!” Eliza said, playing into the jokes, but not giving them the satisfaction of knowing that that was how she learned Brosca’s first name. If she couldn’t stop it, she thought, she might as well have a good time with it.

“What do you know about beauty?” her brother joked.

“More than you do,” her mother cut in, drawing a gasp from around the room.

The banter carried on, light hearted and teasing. Eliza wondered, looking at the crowded room of everyone she was related to, what kind of home Fenny returned to. The redhead seemed to be the only sister, or sibling at all, that Eliza had ever seen her with, and she didn’t know anything about her parents. She hoped that that girl had laughter in her life, though the hard line of her mouth seemed to hint that she did not.

Sitting on the floor, sweeped clean by someone in her family, she pulled her youngest sister, face still rounded like a baby, into her lap. Her hair was not braided, and she wore the dark brown curls like a small crown. Burying her face in her sister’s hair, Eliza whispered, “You listen close, okay, Kata? This might be the most important thing you can learn. And I’ll tell this to you your whole life.”

She breathed deeply, amazed at how fresh and clean the small child smelled. “Don’t let anyone touch you. Don’t let anyone ever make you theirs. And if someone tries to, Eliza’s gonna make ‘em eat dirt.” She absentmindedly drew her hands to her own head and ran a hand through her braids, and found herself humming a lilting tune, rocking back and forth to draw giggles from her squealing sister.

#eliza cadash #fenny brosca #fics #cadash #brosca #AHHHHHHHH #i had to refrain from titling it 'a big ole crush'#because eliza just becomes goofy with pining #my ocs

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