#dorian: i should stay here and die with my people

[greypetrel]

12, 16, and 18 for the Choose Violence ask game c:< (tis an evil smiley)

Here, take a torch to point down your chin as well, let's do an evil laughter together! C:<

With a change of program: we'll have 8 instead of 12 as per request!

Tis the ask game

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

*cracks knuckles*

Merrill is all but unsure of herself and weak. All she doubts about herself is how unprepared she is in an environment that is new. after her personal quest... She never doubts her ideals and her actions. She just regrets that it was all taken so badly by the clan and that they didn't listen. She doesn't regret one single choice she made. She doubts, it, yes! She doubt she should have stayed with the clan, in a world that's more familiar even if she wasn't happy! But repairing the mirror? Communicating with the demon? No. She doesn't blame herself because she's sure in the fact that "EVERY knowledge must be preserved, even the dangerous one" that's what she moves for. That is never put in doubt.

Morrigan never betrayed anyone. Solas betrays you, meaning that he used you, even regretting it, even if he didn't want to, and you couldn't do anything about it because you didn't know it was him all along until the very end. Morrigan asks you if you want to go on with the Ritual. You can say no and she will protest because she doesn't want you to die... But will not insist and force you to do it. It's not a betrayal.

The Arbor Wilds had some great potential. The quest was written badly and by all means there should have been more dialogue options for a Lavellan. Morrigan should have explained her reasons better, and it would have been possible to make her drink from the Well in a way that could be acceptable for a Lavellan. It was poorly done, but the ideas weren't half bad. Luckily there's fanfiction to correct everything.

Sera is creepy and nasty. No, not at all. She is abrasive and will restore to violence? Sure. But if you take your time to actually listen to her and take her seriously and don't diminish her, she's one of the most caring characters in game. (it's easy to miss... Just as it's easy to miss Vivienne being caring.)

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

I hate the star-crossed lovers theme with a passion if it's not done exceptionally well and with strong motivations.

I have a 30 pages dissertation ready to be exposed with a passion every time someone tells me the name of the play, against Romeo and Juliet.

I hate the Romeo and Juliet trope, always had, the only one I like is West Side Story, and because Maria doesn't die in the end (spoiler?).

I never could bear with it, the moment you give me a "We love each other but we cannot be together :<" my eyes roll in the back of my head.

I also stand VERY little the trope that love is the ultimate saving grace, it will be the cure for everything, going from loneliness to mental illnesses and child trauma. ... I wish it could be so, but from a person with child trauma that lead to mental illness, I can positively tell you that it can't. It's a help, sure! But if it's the only thing keeping your character tethered to reality... Yeah, it's not the story for me and I will read that love story as mildly abusive.

(I wouldn't want to be the only reason to live of the person I like, nobody should.) (Mo you managed this greatly in Wander, let me tell you.)

I also personally struggle, characterization-wise, with darker Cullens (...That man FUMBLES, come on let him be awkward).

18. it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

Him. Give me more Felix content. More Felix for everyone. Bring more Felix in your life.

I can't wait to see Tevinter if you couldn't tell.

Also how Dorian fucking invented time travelling and... THE APPLICATION. Maybe that spell could be modified.

Also how if your Inky is a Knight Enchanter and in a good relationship to Dorian... They worked together in developing the Haste and Disruption Field. They got two twin spells. Aisling and Dorian totally did, the twinsies.

#ask game #choose violence ask game #dragon age #merrill #morrigan #cullen rutherford #sera #felix alexius #dorian pavus #forever in merrill and felix defense squad

[crossdressingdeath]

Dorian: Ah, yes. After. Dreadful thing, after. Dorian: Let's see. Assuming one or both of us aren't slaughtered along the way, what do you wish to happen? Dorian: We could go our separate ways, if you prefer. I've been a port in a storm before. I would understand. Alaris: Of course not. I want us to be together as long as we can. Dorian: You're very sentimental for someone who's killed as many people as you have. Alaris: You bring it out in me. Dorian: Sweet Maker, next you'll be making calf eyes at puppies. Dorian: I... don't know what the future holds. For us or anything. That's my honest answer. Dorian: Once Corypheus is defeated, when this is over... I'd like to talk about it more. If you would.

I was originally going to have screenshots for this, but... since this conversation isn't a cutscene (even though it really should be; Alaris, why are you asking about this in the middle of the library, the Skyhold gossip mill is going to lose its goddamn mind) it would've just been a bunch of near-identical images with just the subtitles different in each one, which frankly would be a waste of space. But that's not important. (Also for context just in case because I missed the first line of this conversation, this is the conversation where you ask Dorian what'll happen between the two of you after all this.)

This conversation is just so good. I mean, first off it's just a really cute conversation to be having? I mean, that sort of "where is this relationship going" conversation that's just slightly uncomfortable for everyone involved is just very relatable! It's not something that usually comes up in Dragon Age romances, either, they mostly skip around that awkward early relationship stage where you're still trying to figure it out what with all the very serious shit going on, but here they make time for it because Dorian's romance is the most precious shit.

But it's also just so sweet? I mean, the way Dorian tries to downplay how much this relationship means to him because he's been burned by relationships that turn out to be more casual than he wanted before is very sad, but other than that. How firm Quiz is about wanting to stay together is so good! (The "Of course I want to stay with you" is especially pleasing, it gives me many serotonin with the "Did you have any doubt about that" vibes.) So is Dorian trying to joke about it because all this affection is Difficult, it's incredibly fun and relatable. Also Dorian pointing out just how many people Quiz kills on a regular basis even in such a sweet romance conversation is like. I get it but do you have to bring that up now, babe? Dorian lowkey telling you to stop being so damn cute is also excellent!

And I do like how the conclusion of the conversation is basically "Let's put this conversation on hold until we're reasonably sure we're not going to die within a year", just because it fits really well with Dorian's consistent anxiety over how being in a relationship with the Lord Inquisitor is going to end. He's so worried that it's going to end badly and he'll get his heart broken right from the start, and he seems especially worried that Quiz is going to die given how he responds more badly to Quiz drinking from the Well if romanced because he's scared of what it's going to do to him. So it fits really well that he's basically like "Can we just defer this topic until we have some idea of how this is going to go"! It's not that he doesn't want to fully commit to this as a long-term relationship, he just doesn't want to fully commit when there's such a huge danger that one or both of them could die at any time!

#dragon age inquisition #dorian pavus #it's 1:30 am and i have many feelings about dorian

[manidottir]

Drabble -  After Redcliffe @soldottiir

“You are a mistake. You should never have existed.” Alexius hissed as an amulet began to glow in his palm. A shiver ran down Signe’s spine, just as it had outside the gates with the time-bending rift and panic welled up within her.

“No!” Dorian screamed and shot magic at Alexius, knocking him off balance but it was too late. A green mass appeared in front of Dorian and Lena before there was an explosion. Signe tried to reach for her but just as she felt the fabric of Lena’s tunic she was gone. Both of them were. Signe stared down at the scorch mark that was left on the floor.

For a moment it was hard to breathe. Once again Lena had been taken from her, this time right from her fingertips. Her little sister. Was she even alive this time? Her eyes moved from the spot on the floor to Alexius who looked happy with himself. Though the expression melted away when he looked into the eyes of the older Dragonborn. Yes he’d seemingly destroyed one but now he was face to face with the other. Her eyes flashed gold and a growl rumbled within her chest and Alexius paled. “What have you done?” She hissed.

The man began to shake as he took a step back. “I -- I have corrected the mistake!” His voice trembled in fear as his back hit the side of the fireplace. “The Elder One will be pleased. He will protect me from you heathens.”

Another growl echoed in her chest. “She was no mistake. She was my sister!” The other members of the Inquisition were still in shock but they took a step back from Signe. “She was my sister and you took her from me again!” A feral snarl came from her lips as she whirlwind stepped to close the distance between them. Her hand was around his throat in a second as he was pushed further into the brick with a dagger to his stomach. “Should we see if your Elder One cares enough to save you from my fury? Or shall I send you back to him as a warning that I will be coming for him?”

“The Elder One does not fear you mortal.” He tried to steady his voice but it still wavered as he looked into her golden eyes. What sort of creature was she that her eyes glowed as such? Like he was looking into flames that would devour him whole.

“I am no normal mortal and he is no God. I will tear him limb from limb for what he has done, for what you have done.” The dagger slices at his side. “And once you see that I have killed your so-called God, only then will I take your life.” She shoves his head back into the brick before pushing past everyone else to leave. She needed to be alone. To plan, to watch for the signs of Corypheus and once she found him he would die under her blade.

Signe traveled back to Haven alone and walked straight to her cabin to pack. Cullen had seen the look on her face and knew something had gone horribly wrong. Though he wanted to approach and ask, he knew it would be a mistake and so he would wait for the others.

"Are you really just going to walk away from everyone?" Solas stood in the doorway of Signe’s cabin as he watched her pack her belongings. He wanted to tell her to stop, to ask her to stay. Solas knew she was hurt, she was angry about what happened but so was everyone else. Lena had become an important part of everyone's lives, both sisters had.

"I see no reason for me to stay." She had yet to look at him. If she did, she would change her mind. "You don't, you don't understand. She was all I had here! She is the only reason I was in Thedas, the only reason I stayed."

"I see." Those words hurt more than he had expected them to. Was this what it felt like when he pushed people away? It was harder to control his expression than he thought it would be. "So no one else here has become important to you? Have you felt no connection with anyone here?" He watched her pause in her movements. Her hand tightened into a fist around a shirt she held.

"you know I have...." She wasn't heartless. No matter what other people said. "But you must understand that this is not my world. I do not belong here." Finally turning to look at him Solas could see the pain in her eyes, the unshed tears. "They needed her not me and now she is gone. Surely you see how the people here look at me. If not for her, they would have attempted to make me Tranquil for what I can do. Even if it wouldn't work, they would surely try."

"I would not let them touch you." The words slipped from his mouth before he could think. " I -- they need you more than you realize. You too have become an integral part of this organization. The others have come to look at you for leadership. Have you not noticed that?"

"Of course I have, but I'm not who they should be looking towards! I can not fix the mess this world has become. The way its people are treated simply for having magic or pointed ears? Maybe it deserves to burn." She doesn't truly mean that but at the moment she couldn't care less. This world had taken her sister from her, perhaps permanently this time.

In that moment Solas saw much of himself in Signe. Her anger towards the world and how the people, how the elves, were treated matched his own. There was a line that could be passed here, a moment that could change everything. Taking a step forward he held out a hand towards her. "Then join me. We can stop Corypheus together."

There was a moment of hesitation but something in Solas had changed as Signe looked at him. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Who are you really?” Signe had seen how the elves here held themselves and Solas had always been different. She’d thought perhaps it was because of his history, how he was raised and his travels but now she could see that wasn’t the case.

He knew what she meant, he’d let his demeanor change. No longer did he stand in front of her like the humble elven apostate. For a moment he wondered if this was a good idea. Revealing to her who he was and his plan but it seemed like it was too late now, she was far too suspicious. “I was once called Fen’Harel, The Dread Wolf, thousands of years ago.”

“The Elven God? The ones I hear Elves using as a curse? May the Dread Wolf Take You?” Her brows furrowed but he didn’t seem to get the reaction he had expected. People in this world weren’t used to the Gods interfering with their lives like those back home. How many Daedric Princes had Signe met at this point? A drinking contest with Sanguine, a tea party with Sheogorath in the mind of a long dead King, The Night Mother though not a Daedric Prince was connected closely enough with Sithis, and that dog had led her to speak with Clavicus Vile. “Why hide this from me? If you are a God, why join the Inquisition as just another apostate?”

“People don’t typically have a warm reaction when learning who I am.” His left brow rose in response to her questions. “I have been asleep since I created the veil to lock away the Evanuris. There was a war and they were destroying this world. I did not realize that creating the veil would bring my people to become what they are today.”

That had been a shock. Solas, Fen’Harel, had created the veil that kept everyone in Thedas from using magic except those more adept at it. “Should I start calling you Fen’Harel?” The name rolled off her tongue in the most enticing way to Solas with her accent. For a moment he wondered what it might sound like to hear her whisper it in prayer, or perhaps calling it out in passion.

Pushing away those thoughts the moment they surfaced he shook his head. “No, you may still call me Solas. That is still my name, before I became The Dread Wolf.” In truth they were not true Gods, merely those powerful enough to be seen as one. He had never liked the title, nor did he enjoy the worship. He was simply a man, if anyone was truly a God, it was those Signe had told him about. They had shaped the very fabric of her world. The Evanaris didn’t have that kind of power. “When I awoke, I had planned to take down the veil. To try and restore the People to their rightful place in the world. In truth, the orb Corypheus holds is mine. It was a focus object that was stolen from me. It contained my power that had been locked away. My abilities are merely a shell of what they used to be.” Most of that had been the truth, except that the orb had been stolen. He’d hoped Corypheus could unlock it and would be destroyed in doing so. Everything that had come to pass was not part of his plan.

“So you joined the Inquisition in hopes that you could get your orb back.” It made sense now. At least from what he’d told her. Solas didn’t have the power he used to, it had been stored in the orb and when he awoke it was gone. Used for a nefarious plan. “You still plan to take down the veil I assume, and you need to go after Corypheus to do so.” He gave a nod. Solas was smart, and strong. If they got his orb back the two of them could easily handle Corypheus. “Then I will join you. It’s time I do things how I see fit and the Inquisition will only stand in my way.”

It was like a weight lifted off his shoulders. Solas had planned to go at this alone, to leave once he had his orb. Perhaps he may still, but for now they were allies. He did not have to leave this woman who had wormed her way past his barriers so easily. Now they just had to leave the Inquisition. “I shall go collect my things and meet you at the gates.”

Once Solas left the cabin Signe continued to pack whatever she could as quickly as possible. She knew the others would come to see her now that Solas had left. She was sure they knew she would try to leave and planned on stopping her. Sure enough as she was leaving the little cabin, Cullen and Cassandra were walking in her direction. Slinging her pack over her shoulder she waited for them. “Surely you’re not leaving now.” Cassandra asked as she eyed the pack on the Dragonborns shoulder. 

“Did you really expect me to stay? After what just happened?” Her jaw tensed at the thought. Signe had been keeping back the feeling of heartbreak with her fury but it was slowly starting to creep in. “You have your mages I assume. You don’t need me.”

“Of course we do! Now more than ever. Without Le--- Without the Herald we are lost. The Inquisition needs all the help it can get. Is this really what your sister would want you to do?” Cullen took a step closer to her in an attempt to reason with her into staying.

Signe let out a snarl and reached for the Commander, grasping the front of his armor and pulling them face to face. “Don’t you dare presume to know what my sister would want me to do. I raised her, I taught her how to fight and survive, how to wield a weapon. She was more than just my little sister, she was like a daughter to me and now your organization has gotten her killed. You’re lucky I’m simply leaving and letting you continue.”

The Commander took a shaky break as he looked into Signe’s eyes. He could see she meant what she said and had no doubt that she could severely cripple their organization before anyone could even think of stopping her. It was their fault. Releasing the front of the Commanders armor she pushed past the rest of them and stalked towards the gates. Signe and Solas left the inquisition that day and would not be seen again for nearly a year, which by then it was already too late.

#☾ .*. ━ ‹ ic. › #soldottiir #I had to do it

[deathcherries]

Rowan, hauling dorian out of adarlan before the witches sack the city and eat him alive:

#dorian: i should stay here and die with my people #rowan: bold of you to presume you have a choice considering that if i show up without YOUR royal ass aelin will beat MY royal ass #dorian havilliard #rowan whitethorn #celaena sardothien #chaol westfall #manon blackbeak #aelin ashryver galathynius #adarlan #rifthold #orynth #aedion ashryver #terrasen #lysandra ennar #galan ashryver #the cadre #gavriel #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #vaughn #fenrys moonbeam #connal moonbeam #maeve #valg #sjm #sjmaas #sarah j maas #fantasy #ya fantasy #ya

[greatgodempresspan]

If only my heart had a home [fic]

Fandom: Critical Role

Summary: Ashton tries to find out what Dorian’s deal is RE Orym. Heavy on the Dorym subtext, but technically gen. Alludes very vaguely to EXU, but no spoilers to be had.

Warnings: Some discussion/some dissection of Orym’s apparent “death wish”; thus mentions of suicide, discussion of reckless behaviour and prevention thereof. Unbeta’d, so let’s see how that goes!

Ashton sets a down on the low table where Dorian’s tuning his lute and, already drinking from their own. They take up the chair beside him, sprawling with a studied casualness. “So what’s the deal with you and half pint?”

Dorian laughs reflexively. “What do you mean?”

Ashton gives Dorian a pitying look that reminds him of his older brother. It’s all the more galling for the fact that despite their rugged, grizzled appearance Dorian’s pretty sure Ashton’s younger than him. By a year or two at very least.

“Listen, just because he hasn’t noticed don’t think that means you’re being subtle.” They drawl. Their smirk and the low tone take some of the sting out of it. “The little check ins you keep doing when he’s in arms reach? The perimeter scans when he’s not? In my experience there’s only two reasons friends do that.”

“Oh?” Dorian asks, giving up his tuning altogether.

Ashton nods and begins counting on their fingers. “First, you’re making sure nobody else makes the move that you’re too chickenshit to go for -

Dorian chokes at that. Ashton ignores him.

“ -or you’re looking out for signs of self destructive behaviours so you can step in and shut that shit down.” Their raise their hands. And their eyebrows. “Now admittedly, I’m not always the best at reading people, but Tiny dancer over there doesn’t strike me as a man of many vices.”

Dorian turns, following Aston’s gaze across the room to Orym, currently holding out a forkful of pie to Pate De Rolo. Whether he’s showing it to the puppet or they’re pretending Pate could actually eat it, is hard to tell. Laudna seems happy enough, though and Pate “says” something out of the corner of her mouth that startles a laugh out of Orym.

We have to rely on each other out here, Orym told him once.

Dorian thinks of the stupid things he did to protect his friends.

Dorian sighs looking back at Ashton. “I’d say you’re very good at reading people.”

Aston raises an eyebrow, quickly smirking before the surprise has a chance to settle on their face. “More of a vibe, really,” they say with patently false modesty.

“It’s not really the vices that we’ve been keeping an eye out for, though,” Dorian says. He waits a moment, feeling a bubble of pride when Aston leans forward their interest sparked.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed, Orym’s very…protective.”

Ashton scoffs. Dorian takes it as agreement.

“He’s always ready to dive into the thick it. Cavalier, one might say.”

Ashton tips their head from side to side, considering this. Their eyes stay on him, waiting for more.

Dorian presses his lips together, but there’s no going back now. “From what he’s said Fearne and O - Fearne and I think that maybe he lost someone or failed something - he doesn’t like to talk about it much. Anyway we think that that might have made him…not reckless per se, but he’s - he’s very ready to - to die if he has to. For us. For his leader. The greater good.”

Ashton’s eyes turn sharp and shrewd. “Not suicidal though?”

“No, no,” Dorian says quickly “He’s not seeking it out or, or running towards it, he’s - it’s more -“

“Not running from it as fast as he should?” Ashton guesses eyebrows raised.

Dorian nods slowly. It is a good day to put it. “That’s one of the reasons that we decided to come with him.”

Dorian strums his lute, the words of an old song coming to him. It’s ponderous and heavy and something he hasn’t played since he started playing or their coin. He’s always loved it, held it close to his heart as one of the first songs he learned for himself and not to please someone else. These days the words have a sour taste; too many remind him of Orym for reasons he doesn’t like.

“He has so much to die for, I think he sometimes forgets he has a lot to live for too.” Dorian says quietly, pretending to examine his lute strings. “With us here - I mean you’ve seen how he is. We figured if we were there to look after-”

Aston presses their lips together in a thoughtful pout. “He’d have to start looking after himself.” They nod slowly “Smart.”

“So long as he doesn’t get killed trying to protect us,” Dorian muttered, taking a long drink to distract himself at least from how bitter that had come out.

Ashton has just enough decency to wait until he lowers his glass before delivering a firm slap to the back. He doesn’t spit his drink all over his beautiful lute - just chokes.

“We’ll keep a look out for him,” Ashton says when the coughing has died down. “Can’t promise anything, but I’ll look out for him when he’s up front with me. And coin or no coin Letters’ll heal him.”

They give Dorian a grin, wide enough to bare their canines, the kind Dorian is already learning to enjoy and fear in equal measure. “Who knows, between the four of us, maybe we can keep him alive, huh?”

“Stranger things,” Dorian says, lifting his glass again and clinking it against Ashton’s. They pull a face and tap their glass with exaggerated care against his but they drink with him all the same. Dorian’s gonna count that as a win.

A/N: The song that Dorian’s thinking of, and from which this fit takes its title, is “Dead boy’s poem” by Nightwish.

Stay safe, stay well - have a good day. X

#dorym #dorian storm #ashton greymoore #orym of the air ashari #laudna #pate de rolo #fic #critical role #cr nightwish #cr fic

[twelve-kinds-of-trouble]

Pride Month Book Recs!

This month is Pride Month! To celebrate, I though I’d share a collection of LGBTQIA+ biographies, novels, graphic novels, and poems! (I’ve also starred my personal favourites, or book I think everyone should read!) Remember to check trigger warnings before buying a book, and to support LGBTQIA+ and POC authors! I’ll be tagging a few people who gave me some of these recs at the bottom of this post. If there’s anything incorrect or offensive featured on this list, let me know and I’ll remove it! Enjoy! Also, I made the header myself! I’m very proud.

Now is also a good time to mention that if you’re an exclusionist, a ‘super straight’, a MAP, or a homophobe/transphobe of any shape or form, I hope you choke on glass. You are not welcome on this blog. Leave, and never interact with me again.

(Feel free to ask me about any of the starred books, or to add your own recommendation! It’s a little short, so additions are very much welcomed!)

Young Adult

Aristotle and Dante discover the Secrets of the Universe— Benjamin Alire Sáenz (Contemporary, MLM)*

Crier’s War— Nina Varela (Fantasy, WLW)

Felix Ever After— Karen Callender (Contemporary, Romance, MLM)

They Both Die at The End— Adam Silvera (Contemporary, Romance, MLM)*

The Girls I’ve Been— Tess Sharpe (Con-artist MC, Con-artist MC... WLW)***

Loveless— Alice Oseman (Asexual and Aromantic MC, Contemporary, Please Read It)***

Cinderella is Dead— Kalynn Bayron (WLW)

Red, White and Royal Blue— Casey McQuinston (Contemporary, MLM)

Hani and Ishu’s Guide To Fake Dating— Adiba Jaigirdar (Contemporary, Realistic)

Serás— Anna K. Franco

Simon Versus the Homo Sapien’s Agenda— Becky Albertalli (MLM)

Cemetery Boys—Aiden Thomas (Trans, MLM)

Wilder Girls— Rory Power (WLW, Boarding School, Survival, Sci- Fi)*

Girls of Paper and Fire— Natasha Ngan (Fantasy, WLW)***

Only Mostly Devastated— Sophie Gonzales (MLM, Grease Inspired)

Carry On— Rainbow Rowell (MLM, Fantasy)

Queen of Coin and Whispers— Helen Corcoran (WLW)

Six of Crows— Leigh Bardugo (MLM, Bisexual Character, AMAZINGLY CRAFTED PLEASE READ, Fantasy)***

The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender— Leslye Walton

Adult

The Song of Achilles— Madeline Miller (Greek Mythology, MLM, Made Me Cry A Little)***

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo— Taylor Jenkins (WLW, 60s, Historical Fiction)

The Huntress— Kate Quinn (Historical Fiction, Mystery, Bisexual MC)

The Picture of Dorian Gray— Oscar Wilde

This is How You Lose the Time War— Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone (Fantasy, Time-Travel, Sci-Fi)

Graphic Novels

Mooncakes— Suzanne Walker and Wendy Xu (Sapphic Witch, Sapphic Witch!! AND A NON-BINARY WEREWOLF THEY FALL IN LOVEEE EEEEEK)***

Heartstopper— Alice Oseman (MLM)

Wonder Woman: Year One— Greg Rucka

The Witch Boy— Molly Ostertag (Middlegrade)

Poetry

Have Some Pride— Courtney Carola (Collection of LGBTQIA+ Poetry)

Walking The Tightrope— Abayomi Animashaun, Irwin Iradukunda, Timothy Kimutai, Tatenda Muranda and Spectra Speaks (Collection of LGBTQIA+ Poetry from African Writers)

Fragile Goods— Drew Song (Collection of LGBTQIA+ Poetry)

Finding Her— Kamari Talley (Collection of WLW Poetry)

Biographies/Autobiographies

Continuum— Chella Man (Transgender, Genderqueer)

Queer Heroes— Arabelle Sicardi, Sarah Tanat-Jones (Children’s, 53 stories of LGBTQIA+ icons)

Queer Inentions— Amelia Abraham (Autobiographical journey through queer culture)

50 Queers Who Changed The World— Dan Jones, Michael Rosenthal

——————————————————————————————————

I hope you all enjoy this! I had so much fun making it! This is my first Pride Month as someone who has realised (?) their sexuality, so I’m very excited. And remember, whether you label yourself or not, whether you’re in the closet or you’re out, if you’re questioning or have a firm grasp on your sexuality; no matter your identity, you are valid. You are loved, and you are welcome here, always. Happy Pride Month! Stay Safe! <3

——————————————————————————————————

I’ll tag a few people here who gave me recommendations or I think would like this!

@introvertedscarecrow @crackerboxart @the-fridge-is-on-fire @aheartfullofquestions @kazoo-the-demjin @im-a-dragon-cawcaw @ketterdamkid @adorablyy-chaotic @peachy-saladlover @neonified @harlowreads @bianavacker-is-bi-as-hell @completekeefitztrash

#pride 2021 #pride month #happy pride 🌈 #Lgbtqia+ #lgbtq #gay #lesbian #bisexual #pansexual #asexual #aromantic #transgender #demiboy #demigirl #demigender #bigender #nonbinary #agender #ace #aro #lgbtq book recs #Pride month books #I love you all <3 #PLEASE ASK ME ABOUT THESE BOOKS #Books #bookblr #bookworm #book recs #book recommendations #ellie does cool shit

[taiey]

i am thinking about basira and john and i am thinking

061

DAISY I reckon we should cut you off, but Basira’s soft. She likes you. [heh] No idea why.

088

MARTIN Look, he didn’t kill anyone, okay? There’s… I think something’s going on, okay. I actually think he was framed. BASIRA Yeah, well, I hope so. If not, well… I just can’t believe I was so stupid, you know? He really got me. MARTIN Got you how? BASIRA I actually thought I misjudged him. Hell, I liked the guy.

195

BASIRA I’ve been hoping for a friendly face for a while now. ARCHIVIST Glad I could oblige.

—

073

ARCHIVIST Here. BASIRA Thanks. ARCHIVIST I assume it didn’t go well, then? BASIRA [Swallows drink]

128

BASIRA Here. [She sets down a cup.] ARCHIVIST Thank you. [He picks up the cup.] BASIRA Was it worth it?

140

BASIRA Coffee. [She sets down a cup.] ARCHIVIST What? BASIRA Coffee. Drink it. ARCHIVIST I’m really, uh… Fine. BASIRA You look awful. You try drinking with Daisy again?

122

ARCHIVIST I don’t suppose you brought in any – clothes? BASIRA No, I just, you know, grabbed that statement on my way out. ARCHIVIST Right, well, uh – I kept some in the – uh – Archives, uh, in my office. BASIRA Yeah, those got um – we had to throw those out...I’ll get you some new ones. ✨Better ones.✨ Anything else? ARCHIVIST  Water, please. BASIRA Sure thing.

—

128

BASIRA What do you want? Why are you here? [Silence. The Archivist sighs.] ARCHIVIST  Why are you here?

143

BASIRA Where is everybody? MANUELA (scoffs) Go to hell! ARCHIVIST (overlapping) Answer her.

—

179

BASIRA It’ll… It’ll help me. All going well, I’ll meet you both in London. He’ll know where to find me. ARCHIVIST So you won’t mind if I check up on you sometimes? BASIRA If you must. But don’t overdo it. I don’t like being watched. ARCHIVIST Understood.

195

ARCHIVIST I’d be more than happy to let you take over, if you’d like? BASIRA No, I wouldn’t want to cramp your style. ARCHIVIST At this point, that’s just about the only part of me that isn’t cramping. BASIRA Alright, give ‘em here.

—

088

BASIRA I just, I mean he was good company. Y’know, when he wasn’t being a paranoia machine. He was funny, you know? MARTIN What, John? BASIRA Yeah. MARTIN I don’t think I’ve ever heard him tell a joke. BASIRA Maybe you weren’t listening.

043

BASIRA I’m not really big on writing. I’m more of a talker. ARCHIVIST Odd choice of career, then; [attempting levity] I hear there are lots of forms to fill in.

118

BASIRA So would you say this was supposed to be Churchill or Alfred Hitchcock? [John lets out a breath.] ARCHIVIST Jowls like that, could be either. I mean, the suit is a bit –

143

BASIRA Eyes peeled. [Pause.] ARCHIVIST Was that a joke? BASIRA Yeah.

195

BASIRA I know a good way to take your mind off it. ARCHIVIST I wouldn’t want to cramp your style. BASIRA Ha!

197

BASIRA Can’t keep catching you every two minutes. ARCHIVIST Heh. BASIRA At some point I’ll give in to the temptation. ARCHIVIST [Sarcastic] Hah hah.

—

128

ARCHIVIST Daisy’s alive, in there. BASIRA Right. [...] BASIRA And don’t open the coffin. ARCHIVIST It is addressed to me. ... Yes, alright. Alright.

132

BASIRA John, you stupid idiot! What did you think—

143

ARCHIVIST As in… actually see it. MANUELA Go ahead. Just try. BASIRA (overlapping) Look, it’s okay, John. No one else knows it’s here. And if we just leave it, no one will know.

158

[HEAVY, UNEVEN FOOTSTEPS. DISTANT FEMALE SCREAMS CAN BE HEARD.] ARCHIVIST Oh, no. BASIRA Stay here, both of you. I’ll check it out.

158

BASIRA They’ll follow us… goddammit. John, go, we’ll keep them busy. ARCHIVIST Fine. Just don’t die. BASIRA Go.

—

133

ARCHIVIST If you go it alone, you are going to die. Even Gertrude worked with people. We make bad decisions when we don’t communicate. BASIRA You literally jumped into a spooky coffin without telling anybody. ARCHIVIST …Case in point.

140

ARCHIVIST It’s not a hangover. Well, not – I wasn’t drinking. BASIRA Drugs, then? Sick? Got some weird monster disease? ARCHIVIST Seriously? BASIRA We’ve been over this. You need to tell me stuff. Communication works both ways, you know.

—

148

ARCHIVIST You said Martin gave it to you. BASIRA Yeah. ARCHIVIST How was he? How did he look – was he – uh – BASIRA [interrupting; sounding slightly less harsh] I don’t know. I didn’t see him. He just left it on my desk with a note.

151

MARTIN How is he? BASIRA Hungry. [MARTIN EXHALES] But - he’s keeping it together.

177

HELEN So what’s it going to be Basira darling? Quick and easy? Or are you looking to take the long way round as a third wheel? BASIRA  …I’ll stick with the guys, thanks.

179

ARCHIVIST Sorry. BASIRA  You apologise too much. ARCHIVIST [Chuckling] Martin says the same thing. BASIRA [Chuckling] Like he’s any better.

— 

091

BASIRA This is too far, Daisy. You know it is. DAISY He murdered two people, Basira. Maybe more. I’ve done one monster today, no reason not to do another. ARCHIVIST I didn’t… I didn’t kill anyone! BASIRA For god’s sake, look at him!

141

ARCHIVIST Floyd Matharu. Served on the Dorian from 2011 to 2014. With Salesa. BASIRA John, I’m not sure about this. ARCHIVIST I am.

—

123

MELANIE I warned Basira; I said not to let you back in here, but she just (increasingly angry; starts slamming the wall) doesn’t! listen!

127

ARCHIVIST My priorities haven’t changed. I hope you can believe that. I’m still on your side. You can trust me. BASIRA (tired exhale) Yeah. People keep saying that.

146

BASIRA How many? [Short pause.] ARCHIVIST Four. MELANIE Jesus. BASIRA Including the one on the boat? ARCHIVIST Including Floyd? Five.

—

176

ARCHIVIST Basira, I know you’re not going to shoot us. There’s already too much doubt in your mind. BASIRA I told you before not to look into my head.

146

BASIRA So you say you’re being controlled. ARCHIVIST I-I don’t know. Maybe. Th-The Web, i– BASIRA (overlapping) What, What was the name you said before? Annabelle Cane.

155

BASIRA No sign of Annabelle either. ARCHIVIST You still on that? BASIRA You’re not?

—

141

ARCHIVIST Anyway you’re the one who wants to be like Gertrude. You think she’d give a damn about a few bad dreams? BASIRA No. ARCHIVIST No. She got the job done, and didn’t care about the cost. BASIRA But I thought you did.

146

MELANIE Why didn’t you record them? BASIRA Why do you think? Because he was ashamed.

— 

178

BASIRA [Weakly] I thought we were good. ARCHIVIST [Softly] I know how that feels.

199

BASIRA I just mean… um… If we don’t make it out of this… I wanted to say thanks. For coming back for me. [sighs] What I did… Who I was… I – Thanks. ARCHIVIST I’m sorry for all of this. BASIRA We’ve all got regrets. But we can’t undo what’s done. All we can do is try and do something worthwhile with the time we’ve got left. [HEAVY SIGH FROM THE ARCHIVIST] ARCHIVIST Yeah.

#the magnus archives #tma #tma spoilers #Basira Hussain #Jonathan Sims #tma meta #mine #thinky thoughts

[rumblelibrary]

The Diary of Doctor Laszlo Kreizler

Chapter 1

Synopsis: Alienist’s notes are private, sometimes gruesome, secrets of others and of himself.Those pages belongs to secrecy and decadence, have a glimpse to this world made of drafts, notes, accidents and reflections. Or maybe it is you the only person that should ever reach for it.

While you read this imagine Laszlo mostly at the end of his day, scraping the ideas and the thoughts, adjusting previous notes with additions, closing the day behind himself with a couple of sentences while sitting in his evening robe, a good glass of whiskey and his glasses bridged almost at the tip of his nose. Or maybe imagine yourself, you sneaky thing, reach for it from a far shelf.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: listen, this is the set of ideas and confessions of a man living in the 1890’s. Most of them will be outdated, rough, even deprecating in some analysis of the roles of men, women and social status, religion, etc.So be prepared, my point is to make Laszlo reflect upon those topics, but to be as faithful as I can to his time. Mention of death, mutilation, self harm and a minor depiction of a fight. Psychologically troubled young children ahead! Author’s note: I am a nerd for a good Victorian novel and a sexy Alienist.I have always been charmed by Laszlo’s mind and inner conflicts. So I took the chance and tried to have a run into that rollercoaster.  The story is placed between season 1 and season 2.

Diary belonging to Dr. Laszlo Kreizler.  This is a professional book of annotations over medical treatments of an alienist toward his patients. Do not disclose and send it back to the address if found: Kreizler’s Institute, xxxxxx, New York City (NY) L.K.

Samuel Griswold Goodrich, Illustrated Natural History of the Animal Kingdom (c1859). Contributed for digitization by University Library, University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign.

Schiller in his “Die Weltweisen” wrote: So long as philosophy keeps together the structure of the Universe so long does it maintain the world’s machinery by hunger and love. From the philosopher point of view sexual life takes a subordinate position in human’s life, from recent studies pushed by European philosophers, everything is about sexuality and its development. I like to think of the experience of being an alienist as the process of Queen Penelope that, while waiting for her husband Ulysses return, undoes her craftwork every night. I undo the fabulous constructs of people’s beliefs to go back to the rough sketch that stands at the beginning of their loss, their complex, their pain. Maybe that’s why working with children is so motivating and fascinating. They can be saved and yet, I am well aware, some of those sketches already traced in their young lives equal to scars that not even the most advanced theories could cure. But I can sooth them. I can prevent them the torment, the anguish, the recollection at night of those monsters. I feel like a poet would be a better alienist than a philosopher, but I have got no poetry nor philosophy in my veins, but the cold experience of the razor blade judgment of Life itself.

Today I observed a fight among the children at the Institute. Age range between 10 and 12. Boys. The fight was over the possession of a side of the playground, the territory of a pack  of youngsters formed under the name of Steven. Peculiar lad, coming from a military background finds comfort in replicating the schemes he lived in his family. He takes the role of the Father/Captain of the team and subjects children that come from a similar background story, but do not posses his same attitude to the command. All quiet on the front, until the space he declared is own spot got affected by the presence of others.  Intruders. I knowingly let the events unfold to see how Steven would react to his challenged authority. His reaction was, at first, worded, a sketch, a stage-play of an action he witnessed over and over, and he knew the part so well that some of the contending kids lowered their stance against him. Among considering to mildly intervene into this pyramid scheme of authority, another boy, Jan, calls himself on the role of the educator and hero of the masses and proceeds to unfold a wild and well assessed punch on the newly declared dictator face. Balance is established again. No need for me to arbitrate, once more the laws of nature seem to apply to children as in a state of nature.

Meet John Moore over lunch. His job at the newspaper is picking up, he is charmed by the spirits and the wits that he finds in his shared office with all the other writers. He mentions many, goes on and on over qualities and troubles, gossips and tendencies, and even little scandals here and there. To be aware of all those details gives me no interest, but to see a dear friend so invested clearly gives me something to pick up. To consider also the amount of details and the way he describes this or that member of the journal, I can do a small exercise of analysis. It is almost too easy because John is painfully genuine, even some of the kids at the institute would beat him hands down in a battle of lies. The more he likes somebody, the more he goes on about all the details and the characteristics, often letting aside the physical appearance. When he doesn’t like somebody he has a couple of adjectives for the wits and around four or five for the physical aspects that usually indulge on some repulsive idiosyncrasies.  John is a man that painfully fits in the storyline of The Picture of Dorian Gray: to him physical beauty is spiritual beauty and, of course, the other way around. This part of him surely intrigues me, makes me want to tease more from him. But, as a friend, it concerns me as John is way too prone to purposelessly decide that somebody with good eyes is also a good human being, which is a very romantic and admirably naive way of judging matters. I noticed some names that keep repeating in his narration. I dread that it is synonymous of a soon encounter from my side with the objects of his admiration. Fetiches, I dare to say, that I will have to annihilate before they sediment into his mind, perpetuating a narration that soon sees John being mislead by others.

Reserved: Tickets for the Eroica, Symphony n. 3 by Ludwig van Beethoven. Thursday evening.

Note on the show: the first movement lacked the pathos needed to begin with, I am not sure that the guest orchestra really managed to portray the wider emotional ground needed to withstand the whole representation. As the evening progressed there were some outstanding performances by the cellists. Still not approving the choice of reprising the early quick finale movement against the lengthy set of variations and fugue that we are used to in presence of the Eroica. Underwhelming the performance of the horn and oboe, vital in the comprehension of the genius of Beethoven. 

Niki is a new addition of the Institute, quite old for the standards. He is already 16, he will leave when summer ends to some expensive college his family meant him to stay. His parents expect me to make him “normal” in the time we are allowed together.  He is Austrian and I let him act it out like I don’t understand German for the first week of hist stay until today. I believe I hit his pride, which is good, in the moment I answered back to one of his sneaky comments. Now he knows. He is not safe from me, he doesn’t like it. The young man has a tendency to danger, risky tasks and edgy situations. In his mother’s own words “Niki is not afraid of anything”. The phrase didn’t raise any excitement in the father, rather some sort of painful acceptance that is role as the alpha male of the house is probably not only being challenged, but  already diminished, if not abolished. I have taken in consideration that Niki will break himself a bone or two in the process of the therapy, probably out of the spite of boredom or rebellion. It took him less than few days to turn himself into an outcast among the outcasts, which only drives me closer to analyse the complexity of his narcissistic wall of self defence. I gave him a physical challenge to lift a certain weight, he is a pretty skinny one, he didn’t like the challenge, but I am sure he will take it. He is a brainy guy, he hates to be questioned on unfamiliar ground. He won’t sleep at night thinking about it.  A challenge, in this first phase, can only bring me closer to the ease of his pains. To continue the observation.

It is a sad privilege of medicine, in particular the one I practice, to be able to witness the weaknesses of the human nature and the reverse side of life. Nevertheless, I oblige this same privilege of the study as life moves into shades of darkness. To be aware of it gives more solace to my soul than to be victim of patiently waiting for the inevitable unfolding of the events. To be able to understand more about psychology would bring more comfort and elevation to any human being, the times might not be there yet, but eventually something will move into the direction of a more wholesome approach.

Dinner meeting with Sara Howard, at the restaurant Jardin Des Cygnes, 7 pm sharp.  Do not expect to reach the dessert. Do not know if John will be participating due to undeniable tension among the two and the fatal despise of John over French cuisine.

The case that Sara unfolded tonight to my ears feels more and more like pulled out from some gothic book or from the mind of a Roman historian that needed to justify the godly origins of an Emperor. One killing, apparently random, a very constructed iconography over the body. Signs and insults, shapes and drawings. Is this a work of art? Does the killer wants his victim to be his Mona Lisa? His David? I am charmed and destabilised. If this was a murder like any other, then why to spend so much time into it? Based on the description the act of killing itself was quick: a sharp cut over the throat, almost like not wanting to ruin too much the surface to use as base for, what? I keep rerunning those symbols over and over as Sara described them to me, my mind is flooded with the designs of greek philosophers that needed to explain themselves why the sky is above our head and never collapses on us. Hilarious how, no matter the science advancement, in the mind of many the sky stands inevitably overt their shoulders, suffocates them, brings them to a death of the soul and not of the body. Is all this graphic charade indeed only a form to scream for attention?  To stress the eyes of an unaware viewer? It seems ridiculously elaborate, a scream for attention would be quick, it would be like guided by instinct, not reasoning, craftwork. Any man with a knife can paint in blood red the walls of a room and that’s asking for attention. That is the primal howl: look at me! I am here! But this one.  I don’t know yet.

Spent the early morning reading anew my copy of The Metamorphosis by Ovid. Didn’t touch it in a long time and I got bedazzled by the world of terrible sensuality, anger and selfishness of those gods and mortals. I think back at all the deviances and weaknesses of human kind and I try to relate it to all of those humanoid figures. Niki would be a minotaur, the lonesome son left in the labyrinth and his strive for success is his bull’s head. Or maybe a centaur, because of his wits and strategic thinking. I might keep up the process, maybe this is the way to understand my patients better, to understand the killer better. Must remember not to romanticise it. Greek gods were probably the first form of self indulging of a society that needed gods to be forgiving and allowing favours and punishments, but only in exchange of sacrifices. But the sacrifice never comes from the God’s will, but from the will of the man that perpetuates the act of killing. To sacrifice someone or something is the sadistic response to a lack of love deeply inherited in human mind that becomes neurotic. Is the killer giving the God of his own neurosis a body to feast upon? 

I talked with Jan this morning. The young boy is about 10, but he acts like a full grown adult. I could easily asses that’s the reason why he could challenge Steven in that fight. Two children mimicking adults situations they know too well. Jan is son of an industrial man, but he is also son of the dialectics of the industrial revolution. He sounds like he swallowed some of those books about working class rights and communism, probably pushed by a resentful surrounding (mother?uncle? the midwife?) over the social role of his father. As much as incredibly smart and lectured, Jan lost most of his early occasions in life by spending a considerable amount of time using his fists. The anger ever present in the young boy always surprises me, he seems to be holding a power, a strength of a full grown man in those tiny arms. Nevertheless, he is already the tallest of the group. He is surely an idealist, which makes him also tragically fragile. His strength mixed with his heart of gold can make him the best of the heroes or the worst of the villains. He apologised for the fight, he specified how he didn’t like the sound of Steven’s voice, more than the sound, the level of pitch.  I can’t stand somebody shouting orders, I just don’t listen anymore. He is so mature even about his own feelings, almost a gentleman in his chivalry toward the weaker children, honest with his open heart and resentful against any form of injustice.  I am not spared by his ways, he would come at me whenever he feels like I was being partial over some of the kids, his sense of justice blinds him and transform a perfectly balanced boy into a ranging animal.

Ordered book, to be delivered around tomorrow evening: Introduction à la méthode de Léonard de Vinci by Paul Valéry. Suddenly feeling myself as a gross ignorant in art themes. I always regarded myself aware of the artistic personalities and tendencies of present and past, but this new amount of perceptions over the human figure and the human body leads me to document myself more. I could ask John for advice, but he wouldn’t take things at matter that seriously. I can almost hear him say how I can make gruesome a pleasant topic such as art. I should probably wait to see the body to push any further aesthetic study, but I find myself not being able to stop. I reckon, I can allow myself a vice or two.

Today I saw the body of the killed man, courtesy of the Isaacson's. To be fair, I had underestimated it. In Sara’s descriptions, probably due to her more analytic mind, all the charm of the representation got lost in favour of a less cryptic and reasonable understanding of the act. Sara got what some alienists will call a masculine mind, which I don’t perfectly agree on. If I apply that same approach John would be a very feminine mind, all wrapped up in romanticising even the ugliest. I guess that dividing the world in “fragile and gentle” and “strong and powerful” is just easier to explain the fluctuation of something that doesn’t need a real name or a category like human inclinations on thoughts.  I got a feverish sense of patience by looking at the body. Each symbol traced with sapient slowness, dense of the time that the killer spent with the body. That is a work of hours, he had time and meaning. He had resources and was able to spend not less than the time he needed to reach, a vision? An ideal? A message? Is it the message meant to be understood? Am I supposed to unravel it or it is maybe just the way the killer communicates within himself? And if I do decifrate the code, will that bring me closer to him? Or to his next victim?

Reminder: ask John to replicate all the symbols on the bodies in the correct measure and order. It might be needed some hard convincing. Addition: scheduled meeting, his house, 3 pm.

It wasn’t a day like any other when I met you. Or maybe it was, and that’s why I got so struck by it and now I am here playing it over and over through what my memory clung on so desperately. In my own experience, life was often similar to swimming in a lake. Those rich, dense lakes in the north of (illegible cancelled word) were my father used to bring us during summer. I still feel the pull, the draw down toward the abyss. It ashamed me, in a way, the fear that such a simple feeling aroused in my young mind, unaware nevertheless, that such a feeling would follow me through all my existence. It was a prophecy and, like most of the prophecies, was a riddle. I cradle in my heart the charm of those days, the mindless happiness. The foolish feeling of freedom. Little I knew that freedom would be taken away from me that soon, that the body that used to navigate me over the dense waters, helping me to fight the haul toward the unknown, would become my own cage. That day. Today. The day where I met you, the day I was afloat.  The child gasping for air felt the wrench become a gentle push and now he is floating on his back over the scary waters of reality and malice. It gave me relief and it gave me terror, because since that very moment I knew that I would never be able to move on from the sight of you. From the feeling of your eyes lingering on me. From the smile you so easily shone upon me. From the whiff of imported perfume that hit me when you turned on side exploding that swan like neck. And nothing, not even my stern look, could dim that wave of hope that your sole presence washed over me. The abyss roars, calls me to a home of damnation and terror and curses my name and yet you repeated that hell-bound name of mine after me and I felt safe.

John told me so much about you, it feels like I have always known you.

The rope is gone from my neck, the guillotine won’t fall on me, I am spared, I am free.

I have read your latest article, I am thrilled to help with the case.

I am in disbelief.

Your voice.

Dr. Kreizler

How dare you? How dare you to come into my life, to appear, like a vision, mystical, in a way I despised at University when all those theology students talked about the divine. In this very moment I can’t recollect much of what you said, something about the case, about going with John at the obituary. It feels confusing, I feel overstimulated, my memory fails me, I am not sure anymore. I write these few lines and it is passed the hour of the witches and I wish, I demand, to never see you again, because life should never grant hope to a condemned man. 

#dr laszlo kreizler #dr laszlo kreizler imagine #dr laszlo kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler headcanons #laszlo kreizler x reader #the alienist fanfic #victorian age #v writes #the diary of doctor laszlo kreizler

[pitterpatterpot]

We already had high, clingy Gavriel/Aedion interaction, will we also get clingy/needy (maybe drunk or high) Aedion with Gavriel interaction?

You get it right now!

~~~

“My head hurts,” Aedion states glumly, his expression turning even more downtrodden as his boot lands in a filthy puddle.

“I’m sure it does,” Kyllian grunts, Aedion’s arm slung over his shoulders.

“It’s because I fell.”

“You don’t say,” Kyllian huffs, shifting his weight.

“Kyllian?”

“Yes, Aedion?”

“I feel strange.”

The commander reigns in his frustration, the palace walls looming around them and flickering with the shadows of the night. The bar had been suspiciously empty when they arrived, and no one had questioned it when Aedion accepted and lit a pipe. The only surprise was that, instead of the usual slightly soothing drugs most pipes obtain, the one he had been given was filled with a stronger substance. One that’s left him leaning heavily against Kyllian’s side.

“That would be the herbs you smoked,” Kyllian sighs. “Did you seriously think it was just a normal smoke?”

“You said it was!” Aedion snaps. “Walking is hard.”

Kyllian sighs, nodding to a guard as they pass through the gate. “For all we know your father will spot us and-“

Aedion gasps. Kyllian grunts and jolts to a stop with him.

“Gavriel!” Aedion cries, stricken. “Kyllian, he’s my father!”

“...I know?”

“And I haven’t seen him today!” Aedion frets. “What if he’s dead?”

“That is a very large jump,” Kyllian winces, tightening his grip on Aedion. “Why don’t I get you some good food and water and we try our best to avoid the male that will rip me apart if he sees what I did to you.”

“...I want Gavriel.”

“What did I just say?” Kyllian scowls, tugging Aedion towards a kitchen. “You have to- Aedion, no!”

The demi-fae tears free of his grip and sprints down the hallway, following a familiar scent. Kyllian watches him with wide eyes, then slumps and sighs. He turns and makes his way to his own room, mentally calculating the benefits of sleeping in the armoury instead.

~~~

“Gavriel!” Aedion knocks repetitively on the door of the most common room the cadre members meet in for their late night talks. “Gavri-“

The door flings open, Gavriel looking to Aedion in concern. The Lion quickly takes stock of his son, Rowan, Fenrys and Vaughan all watching with trepidation from where they sit in the armchairs.

“What happened?” Gavriel frets. “Are you alright?”

“Gavriel!” Aedion wraps his arms around his father. “You’re alive!”

“What?” Gavriel stiffens for a moment. “Of course I’m alive. Aedion, what are...” realisation sparks in Gavriel’s eyes, and they soften along with his voice as he wraps his arms around his son. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“This entire night is a nightmare,” Aedion mutters before yawning, going lax in his father’s arms.

“Come in, sit,” Gavriel directs Aedion to the couch he was previously occupying. “Where’s Kyllian?”

Aedion shrugs, scratching at the fabric of the chair.

“You look exhausted,” Fenrys states in concern. “How long have you been back?”

“Around two,” Aedion thinks back.

“Hours,” Rowan nods.

Minutes, but Aedion is in no state to correct him. Instead he looks pleadingly up at his father.

“Can you hold me?” Aedion asks, bluntly. “Please?”

Gavriel jerks, taken back. Even the others seem surprised by this blatant request. Vaughan stands and gives the others a gentle look.

“We’ll leave you two,” he nods, Fenrys and Rowan following suit. “Feel better, Aedion.”

“Do you want to talk about your dream?” Gavriel asks, arm wrapped around Aedion with his son’s head resting on his shoulder. “And you’re still wearing your clothes. You should at least get comfortable before trying to rest.”

“I know,” Aedion mutters.

“And you...” Gavriel trails off, taking in Aedion’s eyes. “And your pupils are large.”

“Probably because I love you. They get bigger when you love something.”

Gavriel stiffens. “Aedion, where is Kyllian?”

“Don’t know.”

“When did you last see him?”

“After he gave me a funny pipe. It was sweet.”

“Right,” Gavriel stands, grabbing a blanket from a near basket and dropping it securely around his son. “You wait here.”

Huffing, Aedion squirms out from under the blanket and stands to follow his father. Gavriel frowns.

“I need you to stay here, Aedion,” Gavriel pushes him to sit again.

As soon as he turns to go to the door his son follows him once again. Gavriel winces and leads Aedion back to the couch.

“Cub, just-“

“I can take you to Kyllian!” Aedion stands, delighted.

“I think I’ll be fine,” Gavriel frets, shifting in uncertainty. “If you could just stay- that’s it, I’ll be back-“

And as soon as he reaches the reaches the door Aedion is once again by his side. Gavriel sighs, bowing his head in defeat. Aedion bounces slightly on the balls of his feet, humming quietly.

“Alright,” Gavriel concedes. “I may as well take you to Lysandra along the way.”

“Oh!” Aedion’s eyes brighten. “I love her!”

“I’m aware you do,” Gavriel huffs a laugh.

“I love you, too.”

“Thank you,” Gavriel leads Aedion down the hallway, firmly holding his son’s hand in his own. “Do you love anyone else?”

“Aelin, she’s basically my sister,” Aedion muses. “Evangeline, definitely... Rowan is becoming like a brother... I don’t love Fenrys and Vaughan and Lorcan yet... Kyllian is my best friend, so yes...”

“What about Dorian and Chaol?” Gavriel prompts, a smile in place.

Aedion stares back incredulously. Gavriel chuckles.

“Where’s Lysandra?” Aedion suddenly asks. “Is that my room? Lysandra!”

Gavriel immediately hushes his son, his loud cry booming through the palace. The bedroom door immediately swings open with the shifter popping her head out to search for the disturbing sound. She placates as she spots them, hair and clothes disheveled from bed. Aedion jumps free from his father’s grasp and flings his arms around her.

“Lysandra!” He announces. “I love you!”

“I feel the same, darling?” Lysandra replies, blinking rapidly. “Aedion, it’s three in the morning.”

“No it’s not. It’s four.”

“It seems he and Kyllian found some interesting substances,” Gavriel informs her. “I’m going to hunt him down now.”

“You’re too harsh on him,” Lysandra chastises, running a hand through Aedion’s hair to his delight. “The human equivalent of cat nip was just legalised, it’s fully possible Aedion just grabbed the wrong pipe.”

“We need to break him of that habit,” Gavriel grumbles.

“Just taking other people’s pipes or smoking at all? You are aware he doesn’t use harmful substances?”

“The borrowing pipes parts,” Gavriel confirms. “It’s unsanitary. Either way, I’ll go find Kyllian to ensure he’s safe. Good luck.”

Lysandra snorts as he turns and walks away, Aedion leaning his face into the palm of her hand.

“Alright, you oaf. Bed time.”

“Is Kyllian going to die?”

“Possibly. Now shush.”

#tog #aedion #lysandra #Gavriel #Kyllian #ask

[ladeaeveld]

Notes on Tevinter Nights

I finished reading Tevinter Nights not so long ago, so here is an overview of what is happening in Thedas. There is probably nothing particularly new since I'm a bit late to the party. However, I find such overviews convenient to refresh my memory when needed. Perhaps it will be useful to someone else!

This overview was meant to be short, but there were so many interesting details... now, it is huge.

Also, since I’ve read the translated version, any help with wording clarifications is greatly appreciated!

The post is under a cut due to Tevinter Nights spoilers (and length).

Global events

- There is a war between the Qunari and Tevinter.

- Three branches of the Qun do not agree with each other. The Antaam, the military branch of the Qun, attacked Ventus and continued the invasion without the permission of the other two. It results in faster progress of the invasion as the other two branches were a moderating influence on the Antaam. The Ben-Hassrath holds a neutral position.

- In Tevinter, the Venatori are still a problem.

- Smaller countries like Rivain and Antiva are under serious threat of the Qunari’s invasion.

- The heads of the Antivan Crows, eight Talons, held a meeting to join their forces, protect Antiva, and withstand the Qunari's invasion. The meeting was disrupted, and four out of eight Talons were murdered. New heads of the Crows will be chosen soon.

- The king of Nevarra is on the brink of death. The Mortalitasi, who have always had great power in Nevarra, continue to interfere in politics.

- All the Grey Wardens were summoned to Weisshaupt.

- We were introduced to a considerable amount of characters from the guild of treasure hunters, the Lords of Fortune.

- Regarding the Inquisition, little is known. All external issues of the organization seem to be handled by Varric Tethras. He gives quests, monitors their implementation, hires new people.

- One of the Executors, or ‘those across the sea’, showed up in the flesh. Solas said they are particularly dangerous and cautioned against interacting with them.

- By now, many have heard rumours of the Fen’Harel’s cult.

Minrathous

- A demon or something far worse is imprisoned under Minrathous. With the help of the Venatori, it is now unsealed (will probably be sealed again later). Yet, to awake it, some blood-magic ritual must be performed.

- The creature was sealed with eight blood-bonded enchanted clay disks. They showed a long and thin four-winged dragon rising from the dark waters.

- It is said that ‘demon’ is not the best word to describe this creature. It is something ancient and mighty, unnamed, something that will subject to god only.

- This ‘demon’ was a part of Corypheus’ plan of making Tevinter great again. According to this plan, Minrathous was to become the cradle of the new world. If Minrathous had not surrendered to Corypheus, the ‘demon’ would have left the city no choice.

- Most of the population of Minrathous could have perished as a result of this creature awakening.

- Enchanted predators and monsters resulting from magical experiments seem to be common in Minrathous.

Elven experiments

- In Nevarra, under a mountain with three asymmetric peaks wrapped around each other, there is a dwarven thaig. This thaig is called Hormak, and it was lost to the darkspawn hundreds of years ago.

- In Hormak, Grey Wardens have found elven halls, where experiments on living were conducted. And it is quite lively in these halls now.

- There is a huge pool with a greyish fluid that reeks of brine. It creates hybrids.

- There were different types of hybrids: darkspawn with other darkspawn, animals with other animals, darkspawn with animals, and even a centipede and a Grey Warden hybrid.

- When a hurlock stepped in the greyish fluid, it was enveloped and then transformed into a drake and a hurlock hybrid.

- The transformed Grey Warden said that the fluid affects ‘them’ (sentient races?) differently. To be transformed, it is not enough to touch it. The fluid should get inside the body.

- All over the place were large repetitive bas-reliefs depicting ancient elven. There were three types of them. The first one showed majestic elven kings and queens with reverent supplicants. The second one showed elven mages healing sick. The third showed big aravels, drawn by herds of hallas, going to distant mountains (one of the mountains had three peaks wrapped around each other).

- Later, those bas-reliefs were described differently. On the first one, elven rulers were arrogant and despised their subjects, who seemed to be in great terror. On the second one, mages weren’t healing sick, but on the contrary, they were injecting corruption into bodies. On the third, a halla had a strange rounded body and very long and ridged horns, and an aravel had bars on its windows, which made it look like a cage.

- Somewhere at the entrance of the halls was one more type of repetitive bas-reliefs. It showed three figures: a supplicant, a priestess, and a monster. On each subsequent bas-relief, a supplicant and a monster were different, while the priestess remained the same. It seemed that with each subsequent bas-relief, her grin grew wider.

- The experiments are directed by some will, which is referred to as a female. ‘She’ is not yet there, ‘they’ are waiting for ‘her’.

- Symbols of horns of a halla are present on each column in the halls.

- According to bas-reliefs, there are twelve such places in total.

The Inquisition members and allies

For completeness, this part should have included information from the comic, but I tried to avoid that.

- According to Tevinter Nights, Varric and Charter remained in the ranks of the Inquisition.

- Charter mentions her lover, Tessa.

- Vaea and ser Aaron show up but without a clear relation to the Inquisition.

- There are two mages, Vadis and Irian, who saved a peaceful Qunari settlement called Kont-aar from an agent of Fen'Harel, thus keeping the chance of subtle peace between the Ben-Hassrath and Tevinter. The Ben-Hassrath returned the favour by directing said mages to Kirkwall, to a certain dwarf, where they intend to go after seeing Val Royeaux.

- Sutherland and Company are still loyal to the ideals of the Inquisition.

- Quentin Calla, who was a bearer of the enchanted clay disk for a while, provided the Inquisition with some information.

- Philliam, a Bard!, (formerly) Sister Laudine, and Brother Ferdinand Genitivi, with the help of the Lord of the Fortune, Mateo, accepted and completed the quest from the Inquisition.

Fen’Harel and the red lyrium idol

- The red lyrium idol's adventures ended. It is now in Solas' hands, or at least he says so.

- There are three descriptions of the red lyrium idol's appearance. The first one, made by the dwarf, the Carta assassin: two figures, too thin to be dwarves, caressing each other. The second one, by Mortalitasi: two lovers or a god mourning the sacrifice. The third, by Solas: crowned figure comforting another one. (Note: I remind you these are not exact quotes but a translation of the translation, and nuances might have been lost.)

- Some qualities of the idol: red lyrium weighs more than the usual one; the idol is liquid inside; it reacts to other lyrium.

- The idol created or revealed a ritual blade.

- Solas calls the idol his.

- The Mortalitasi recounted the events in the Fade in which Solas took a form of a giant wolf the size of a high dragon. He had burning eyes like those of a pride demon and wings of fire which later resolved themselves into lesser demons. The Fade is called his natural home, and it is said spirits serve him gladly.

- Solas pays special attention to the actions of the Inquisition.

- Members of Fen'Harel's cult would rather die than be captured.

- The ritual the Dread Wolf performs already affects the Fade.

Random interesting facts

- The Qunari slowly cut down a part of the Arlathan Forest.

- The Ben-Hassrath are said to know the most about Solas’ actions.

- Among four killed Talons was Giuli Arainai, Eighth Talon, and this might be a good time for Zevran to show up somehow.

- There was a lyrium crystal that produced a light with shades of green and yellow in Hormak.

- Dorian no longer has slaves, only hired labourers.

- Josephine sent Dorian some good Antivan wine. :)

- Vaea now possesses a healing artefact, which seems to be able to heal anything except death.

- There is an example of a dwarven metal prosthetic of a leg, which does not seem to restrict movement in any way.

Since I’ve read Tevinter Nights after the last Dragon Age Day... - Evka became a Grey Warden and did rescue the next one!

- The hunger demon that turned a person into a werewolf in the village called Eichweill was not completely defeated.

- It seems those elven artefacts do strengthen the Veil, after all.

- The Randy Dowager is Ferdinand Genitivi. Five scarves fluttered in shock out of five.

⠀

This is all for Tevinter Nights for now. I did not include plenty of curious facts, probably enough for another post. I hope you enjoyed it anyway!

If you have any corrections regarding facts, or grammar, etc., don’t hesitate to DM me! Or you may leave a comment in my ask box if you want to stay anonymous.

Thank you for the attention, and have a nice day!

#I have made little illustrations for this post! #I will post them separately later #this is the longest text in English I have ever posted on social media #I hope the post is ok #dragon age #tevinter nights #spoilers #spoiler #tevinter nights spoilers #tevinter nights spoiler #dragon age: tevinter nights #dragon age: tevinter nights spoilers #dragon age: tevinter nights spoiler #da #da4 #dragon age 4

[saintlethanavir]

Inquisitor as a Companion: Updated

Inquisitor’s Name: Calliope Tarenan Lavellan

Alternate Name?: Calliope Tarenan Himanaris 

Race, Class, & Specialization: Dalish Elf, two handed warrior, Reaver ; mage, necromancer (loyalty and/or romance dependant)

Varric’s Nickname for them: Shortstack

Default Tarot Card: Death (Upright: Endings, change, transformation, transition)

Loyalty Tarot Card: Judgement (Upright: absolution, rebirth, inner calling)

Romance Tarot Card: The Star (Upright: Hope, faith, purpose)

Hostile/Unloyal Tarot Card: Death ( Reversed: Resistance to change, personal transformation) 

How they are recruited:

The Inquisitor will come upon a dalish elf loitering in front of the Chantry after completely the prologue. They’ve been trying to get the attention of any guard that walks by though most completely ignore them or say they’ll send word to the proper people. Upon the Inquisitor leaving the Chantry they call out in an annoyed tone to them, a definitive mix of an Irish and French accent. 

If they’re an elf: “Will you not help a fellow elf, falon? Lot of people coming and going, ignoring my requests. Could you spare some time? 

If they’re not an elf: “Would you kindly tell your people to stop pulling my leg? I need someone to actually help me and not completely ignore my requests. Think you can do that?”

At that point the Inquisitor can: 

1. Apologize for the people before them not taking them seriously and ask what’s going on

2. Sigh heavily and commiserate, make a sarcastic comment about shemlen if Dalish, and ask what’s wrong

3. Tell them their tone is probably what put them off but if it helps them feel better they’ll do their best to help. 

With any of these options, Calliope will say that a friend of theirs is being held in the Chantry on an assault charge. Their brother, Elessar, accidentally nabbed a templar in the shoulder while out in the woods surrounding Haven. The Templar is fine and they’d rather not let their friend rot down there. If you answered with Option 3. Calliope will be short with you, and you will start with a lower approval score. 

The Inquisitor can then tell Calliope to move on or that they will release Elessar personally, and they either owe them and would like to speak to them, or that they just want to speak to them. 

If the Inquisitor tells them to move on: Calliope will break into the Chantry and get their friend out. Later on in Skyhold there will be a chance to recruit them if you go down to visit a prisoner, both Elessar and Calliope were arrested for spying on the group as they settled into Skyhold. If you recruit both of them during this scene you will start out with the lowest approval you can obtain with them.

If the Inquisitor breaks Elessar out: Calliope will express their interest in repaying the Inquisitor or say that they want to repay their debt as quickly as possible so they can get back to their clan. You can either dismiss them at this point or take them on as a companion.

Where they are in Skyhold: In the reading nook Dorian stands in, usually sitting at a table and idly reading a book about dragons. You can also find them hacking apart training dummies near the tavern. 

Things they Generally Approve of:

Sarcastic dialogue options

Supporting magic/mages

Supporting Elves

Criticism of the Chantry/Circle/Templars

Fighting Dragons

Being friendly towards spirits

Things they Generally Disapprove of:

Cruel/harsh criticisms of magic

Supporting the Chantry

Supporting the Circle/Templars

Criticism of Elves

Major decisions:

Greatly Approves Allying with the Mages

If in the party: “They have spent enough time in cages. Let them spread their wings, let them be free.”

If Inquisitor is an elf/mage: “Falon/Lethallen, you know just as I that magic can only be stunted under oppressive influence. Let them be free of their cages, it’s up to them what they do with their freedom.”

Back at Haven: “You did the right thing, never doubt that. They’ll be singing your praises tonight.”

Disapproves Conscripting the Mages

If in the party/Back at Haven: “You would have them trade one cage for another? Lovely.”

If the Inquisitor is an elf/mage: “I hope you release them eventually. A caged dog will bite the hand that feeds it.”

Greatly Disapproves of Allying with Templars:

If in party/Back at Haven: “You would trust a bunch of fools who believe they have a right to cage other people? That’s rich.

If the Inquisitor is an elf: “Fen’harel ma ghilana, garas quenathra. They will be the end of us all, da’len. May you learn from your mistakes.”

Slightly Approves of Conscripting the Templars: 

If in party/Back at Haven: “At the very least they have to do what you say, no? I hope you know what you’re doing. “

Approves of letting the Wardens Stay

If in the party/Back at Skyhold: “The wardens have a chance to make up for what happened, thank you for giving them that chance. “

Slightly Disapproves of Exiling them 

If in the party/Back at Skyhold: You didn’t exile the Fereldan Wardens did you? I wonder what will happen when the next Blight comes. I hope I’m not here to see it.

Greatly Disapproves Briala/Celene getting back together and/or Celene being on the throne/saved. Slightly Disapproves Gaspard ruling alone, and Approves of Briala puppeting Gaspard

If asked their opinion at the Winter Palace: “You should put Briala at the center and let the Empress die. She burned down the alienage, elves lost their families and lives. It was bad enough Halamshiral was taken from them once.”

If the Inquisitor is an elf: “I will help you end Empress Celene myself if it comes down to it. Briala is who I would choose. I hope you would as well.” 

Greatly Approves Allying with the Ancient Elves and doing the Rituals

Disapproves Killing the Ancient Elves

Slightly Disapproves if a non elven Inquisitor or Morrigan drinks from the Well of Sorrows

Approves if an elven Inquisitor drinks from the Well of Sorrows

Any decision made to make a mage Tranquil will result in Calliope becoming hostile towards the Inquisitor and romance/loyalty is cut off

Friends in the Inquisition: Iron Bull, Dorian, Varric, Sera, Cole, Leliana, brief friendship/romance with Solas. 

Romanceable?: Calliope is romanceable by male inquisitors of any race or class! Flirting is available the moment you get to Haven, though they are a lot more receptive to kind/non rival Inquisitors. A full romance is available after Here Lies the Abyss and if you continue to flirt with them, express interest in them. They will slowly reveal to you that they suffer from hallucinations (both auditory and visual) and have since they were a child, they have gotten worse since their magic appeared at the age of seven. Pressing on this matter the first time will result in them saying they don’t wish to speak more about it, but maybe in time they can tell the Inquisitor why they don’t just use their magic to alleviate some of their stress. 

After Here Lies the Abyss the Inquisitor can approach Calliope about what the Nightmare said to them, as it called them Lethanavir. A non elven Inquisitor may be confused as to what that means or at least curious, but an elven Inquisitor knows that’s the title of Falon’Din. Calliope will of course explain if the Inquisitor is in need of it, but they’re just as confused as them about what that could mean for them specifically. They will joke about past lives and memory loss to lighten the mood, but will confide in the Inquisitor that what they hear in their hallucinations are the sounds of the dying. Last words and breaths. Their visual hallucinations come at times of high stress and will sometimes involve watching someone they know or don’t know die. Sometimes they become paranoid that the person is truly dead and has been replaced if it’s someone they know. They believed for some time that practicing their magic would alleviate some of these instances but it never has. 

Though they don’t believe it’ll help much, an Inquisitor can either support them in building their magical talents or telling them it may not be worth it. If they support Calliope they will seek out the help of the Inner Circle Mages, and if Dorian is within the Inner Circle they will latch onto his teachings. It is also possible in the course of this romance to begin a polyamorous relationship with Calliope, Dorian, and the Iron Bull if the Inquisitor expresses interest in all three of them. It is also entirely possible for Calliope and the Inquisitor to engage in a polyam relationship with Solas, but eventually Calliope will break off the relationship with Solas for ‘personal differences’. This is also true if Calliope is not romanced and Solas isn’t pursued at first or not at all by the Inquisitor. Then if Dorian and Iron Bull are not Romanced, or if one or the other isn’t romanced, they will enter into a relationship with both or one of them. 

You will get a dance scene in Halamshiral if you take Callie along with you, though the scene will go a little differently depending on what you’ve done so far in the game. If Here Lies the Abyss is done after Halamshiral you will not get a dance scene with Calliope but you will be able to flirt with them as per usual. 

Upon finding them in the palace gardens sitting on the pool where you toss the coins: 

Inquisitor: How are you finding the party? It must be nice to know what everyone is talking about.

Calliope: Ah yes, I love hearing about the various affairs of nobles and how they’ve been abusing their staff. At least the food is good, but I wouldn’t touch the ham no matter what Dorian says. 

Inquisitor, flirting: Do you think you’ll have time for a dance later?

Calliope (if in a relationship already): Vhenan, I will be whisking you away to the dance floor no less than three times if I have my way.

(If not in a relationship yet): I think I can pencil you in for at least one. Though I will be leading, I hope that’s alright (laughs). 

A romance will be locked in after Halamshiral or the completion of Here Lies the Abyss if Halamshiral was done first. They will meet the Inquisitor in their quarters and begin to show off what they’ve learned, commenting that their twin helped them perfect a barrier spell which they use on the Inquisitor. They will then share a tender moment and kiss, pushing the Inquisitor down on the bed. However, the Inquisitor can either choose to tell them they want to spend time with them but wish to not be physical, or they can continue that particular scene. Either way they’ll wake up the next morning with Calliope smiling at them and telling them they love them in Elven. 

There is a repeatable kiss scene with Calliope in the Inquisitor's quarters as well as a tarot card change! They will go from a two handed warrior to a necromancer as well, though will still use a sword along with their magic. At the end of the game there will be a cut scene where Calliope follows the Inquisitor into their rooms, then sweeps them into a near crushing embrace. 

Calliope: We survived, I cannot believe we survived. 

Inquisitor: You sound so thrilled! 

Calliope: (laughs) Asshole. You know what I mean. I am...just happy that we’re here together at the end of it all. 

Fear: The Dark 

What the Nightmare says to them: “Ah, Lethanavir. The Darkness will only consume you again, why do you struggle so? Wouldn’t it be better if you laid down and gave up?

Small side mission: 

Whose Faithful Sing: Calliope has tasked you to help them give final rites to the Dalish elves who have helped the Inquisition but died in the process. Take their remains to the Emerald Graves, the Dales, and the Hinterlands to lay them to rest. (Grants Approval all three times). 

This quest is given to you after unlocking the Emerald Graves on the War Table. 

Companion quest:

In the Dark, All is Revealed: This quest is given to you when Calliope asks to see the Inquisitor post Halamshiral and romance scene (if you romanced them). There will be a cut scene where Calliope lets the Inquisitor know that their twin brother recently joined the Grey Wardens after the events of Here Lies the Abyss, citing that he wanted to actually do something for the world for once. While Calliope had their reservations about this, especially because of the false Calling, Elessar did this anyway though has not had his Joining yet. He was recruited into the Grey Wardens of Ferelden and went with them on an excursion to the Deep Roads to block off some darkspawn hordes only to get trapped in a cave in. Calliope wants your help to get Elessar out of this situation. 

If Calliope hasn’t been romanced, and you are at low approval, and you tell them you can’t do this for them they will permanently leave the Inquisition. Refer to end card section for what happens post DAI and Trespasser. If you take this quest however keep reading! 

Calliope and the Inquisitor will go to the Storm Coast where the cave in happened and search for Elessar. They encounter the main group made up of grey wardens and Legion of the Dead soldiers, who mention the Elessar was cut off from the main group with Carver Hawke (Bethany Hawke if Carver did not survive DA2, or an unnamed senior warden if either are unavailable). After fighting through a horde, Calliope mentions that they’re having trouble with seeing things and that there are voices in their head. A romanced Inquisitor can ask if they’re alright and they’ll just say that they’re fine, it’s nothing. 

After another horde, there will be a cut scene where Calliope faints after they fell all the darkspawn. There’s a moment where the party freaks out only for Calliope to open their eyes wide and sharply inhale, with a two toned voice saying that there’s something big coming. And an ogre will show up! Their abilities will be slightly more erratic,either as a necromancer or a Reaver and halfway through the fight Carver (or whoever it was) will show up with Elessar. The twins begin to fight in sync and act much in the same manner until the ogre is felled and the Inquisitor can ask questions. The twins will reveal that they are Falon’Din and Dirthamen, a revelation to both of them, as the gods needed time to reveal and dedicate themselves to the cause. They explain that they are inhabiting the bodies of the twins not unlike how the Old God soul is inhabiting Keiran (if he was the result of the Dark Ritual. If he was not born they will liken it to being reincarnation. All references to being an abomination are met with scorn. They will then ascend to the surface after the gods release their holds, and the Inquisitor can interrogate the twins. Both mention they had no idea what was going on and will need some time to process, but they promise they’ll keep the Inquisitor posted. If they’re not elven they will also explain who the gods are. 

Once back at Skyhold a cutscene will trigger with Calliope asking to talk to the Inquisitor in their quarters. They’ll reveal that they’ve talked to Falon’Din, or what they believe is Falon’Din, and that while things are still murky they’re grateful for the Inquisitor helping them and their twin brother. If the Inquisitor is romanced, Calliope will mention that they understand if the Inquisitor is no longer interested, but the Inquisitor can reassure them that they still are and this doesn’t change who Calliope is as a person. 

End Cards/Trespasser: 

If loyal to the Inquisitor: ‘Calliope promised to stay at the Inquisitors side, as a bodyguard and friend. The Tarenan Clan are steadfast allies to the Inquisition, who hopes this will finally be a step towards peace for the Dalish.’ 

If romanced: ‘The Inquisitor and their paramour, the Lethanavir made quite the ripple amongst Chantry officials when they announced their partnership. Maker help anyone who should stand against them. Though some still grumble about and supposed elven god being in love with the Herald of Andraste.’

If they left the Inquistion: ‘Not much is known about what happened to Lavellan/Himanaris, though some say they’ve spotted the elf in the Emerald Graves. Though it was only ever for a moment. They left behind whispers of death and revenge, so the soldiers say.’

Trespasser: ‘They found traces of Lavellan/Himanaris between a section of Crossroads where it seems they have amassed quite the following. Dalish elves flock towards rumors of the reincarnation of Falon’Din and Dirthamen, but whether or not those rumors can be trusted is yet to be seen.’

If romanced: ‘What transpired at the Council leaves many questions for Calliope, but they know they will always have their Inquisitor close at hand. Come what may they will not let the growing threat of Fen’Harel and his plans overshadow theirs. There are fewer grumbles from the Chantry about their relationship with the Inquisitor, but the fires have been stoked once more after Calliope proposed. What will come for them next, its anyone’s guess.’

If loyal to the Inquisitor: ‘Promises to the Inquisition were made and they will be kept. Plans have come to fruition between Dorian and the Lethanavir, scouring the lands for any trace of Fen’harel and his spies (if Dorian is not romanced). Rumors have spread that the Magister may have even taken on Calliope as his paramour. The Magisterium has certain words for the pair, but they always fall on deaf ears. 

#dragon age #calliope lavellan #this is a long one folks lmao

[imherongraystairstrash]

Defender of Men

Alex Lightwood birth storyyy!! I’m finally publishing it because someone sent me an ask on it, but it became too long, so here’s part one:

“Cecily, are sure you’ll be alright?” Gabriel asked. 

“Jiw jiw, for the millionth time, I’ll be fine.” she said, pushing Gabriel out the door. “Now go do something useful.”

Anna was already outside, leaning against a tree, frowning down at her dress. 

“Anna, gwnewch yn siŵr bod eich tad yn stopio poeni.” Cecily said.

Gabriel looked at her, annoyed. “I speak Welsh, Cecy.”

Cecily kissed his cheek, “Then make sure you do well on what I said.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and hugged her with one of his arms.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“No, Gabriel.” She said, putting a hand on his chest. “Just have fun sledding with Anna, your nieces and Gideon. Sophie is right next door, if I need anything—which, I won’t—I’ll just call her.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m not made of glass, love. I’ll be fine. Now go before our poor Anna gets stuck frozen to that tree.” 

Gabriel dropped a kiss on the top of her head before letting her go.

Cecily watched as he walked to Anna, who made a show of pretending to be asleep. He ruffled her hair, stealing her hat in the process and running down the street. Anna laughed and chased after him.

…

“Kit, bach, are you sure you don’t want to go sledding with Anna and your father? I’m sure it will be loads of fun,” Cecily said, once she was back inside. 

Kit furrowed his eyebrows and cast a hesitant look outside. “I think I’d rather stay with you, Mam.”

Cecily smiled, knowing perfectly well Kit didn’t like the cold. “Alright then, fy ngalon bapur i.” (A/N: my paper heart)

Cecily walked to the kitchen and pulled out two mugs from the cupboard and filled them with tea. Before she picked them up, she grabbed a pocket watch that was on the counter and hung it on her neck so she could time her contractions.

When she got back to the drawing room, she tried to set the mugs on the table, but she couldn’t bend down that far. Christopher shot to his feet and helped her put them down, and lowered her to the couch.

“Thank you, darling.” Cecily said, bracing a hand of her belly. She felt like she was at the verge of giving birth, which is never a good thing, as a mother’s instinct is rarely wrong. The first stage of labour takes around fourteen hours, hence Gabriel’s hesitation to leave her at home. Cecily had thought he was being dramatic, but that was before she realized that she was maybe closer to birth than she had thought. Had fourteen hours already gone by?

“What book are you reading?” Cecily said, looking over her son’s shoulder, distracting herself. 

“The Picture of Dorian Gray.”

Cecily scrunched up her nose. She had never read the book herself, but from what she’d heard of, it didn’t seem like a book Christopher would be interested in.

“What a peculiar choice of literature, cyw.”

“Matthew recently read it and said it was at utmost importance I read it as well. I don’t understand much of it, though. I’m also not very fond of the characters. I’d prefer your company over that of this book.” 

Cecily smiled. “As do I, bach.”

Having children was a strange experience for Cecily. She was apprehensive at first, afraid she wouldn’t be a good mother and her children would end up resenting her. When she got pregnant with her first child, she was so happy. 

And when she lost it, she had been so incredibly grief-stricken.

She had felt like she’d already failed as a mother, even though the Silent Brothers confirmed there was nothing that there was nothing that could have been done differently to have saved it, that it wasn’t uncommon to lose a child in the early stages of pregnancy.

That was the cruel irony, wasn’t it? To feel so much regret, to have your child die inside of you, and not know what went wrong. 

They’d tried again, and then she was pregnant with Anna. The whole time she had been so horribly sick, she was terrified of losing another child. This time, however, she’d been pregnant long enough that she’d have to give birth to the child, whether it was alive or dead.

Those months had been the worst in Cecily’s entire life. Not even when her father had gambled away their home in Wales, the one she had memories of running with Will and Ella down valleys, had she felt such despair.

“Mam?”

Cecily shook her head, bringing herself back to the drawing room sofa, beside Kit.

“What is it, bach?”

“Does the baby have a name yet?”

Cecily rubbed her belly. “Not yet. Why do you ask?”

Kit shrugged. 

Cecily suddenly felt a contraction. She started the pocket watch timer and sat forward and breathed deeply to try to relieve the pain. This one felt longer than the rest had been. 

Kit looked at her from over his book, his eyebrows together. 

Once it had passed, Cecily stopped the timer. After a couple of seconds of recovering from the contraction, she looked at the time, and swallowed.

“Kit,” she said as calmly as she could. “Bach, I need you to ring for the Silent Brothers.”

…

Brother Enoch, Zachariah and another brother Cecily couldn’t remember were preparing for the birth. Christopher had helped her up the stairs, before the brothers had come, and was now standing in a far corner of the room, at loss for what he should do.

“Christopher.” She said, motioning for him to come.

“You needn’t be here. I’ll be fine and your father will soon be here. I already asked Sophie to send him here once he stops by after sledding. You can wait outside until then.” 

“But Mam, I don’t want you to be alone.”

“I won’t be alone. I’m with the Silent Brothers.”

Christopher looked over his shoulder at the Brothers.

Cecily put a hand under his chin and turned his face to face her own. She smiled at him.

“Go, Kit. It’s alright. I’ve done this before.” She said with a smile.

“I want to stay here. With you.”

Cecily tried to rub away a smudge on Christopher’s face, perhaps something to do with his most recent experiment.

“I don’t think you do, bach. When people say birth is a natural process, it’s because they’re trying to glorify a process that’s ghastly.” 

Cecily looked deep into his lavender eyes and smiled. “Now go, before I start crowning. Trust me when I say you’ll wish you’d have gone.”

Christopher made to move, but didn’t get up.

“I want to help you. I want to stay with you the way you stayed when I got my first rune.”

Cecily wanted to argue that this was different but she suddenly got a contraction that was long enough she knew she’d have to push at any moment.

Sure enough, Brother Enoch said, you must begin pushing soon, Cecily Lightwood.

“You have to be sure, Christopher.” She said through her teeth. “One-hundred percent sure. And you must stay on this side of the bed, because I don’t want you to see the birthing process. I’ll only let you stay because if not I’m afraid you’ll ‘stress experiment’ and blow up the house.”

Kit nodded quickly.

“Alright then.” She said.

Are you ready to push?

“Yes. Let’s finish what we started, Enoch.” Cecily said, taking Christopher’s hand in her own and bracing herself for the birth. 

…

Congratulations, Cecily Lightwood, it’s a boy. Enoch said in her head, less than half an hour later.

Cecily fell back on the pillows, exhausted. Birth never really got easier over the years. 

Jem came around with the baby in his arms and gave him to Cecily. She swore she saw him stroke the baby’s hair as he walked to her. She smiled up at him. 

“Thank you, Jem.” She said, quietly.

He inclined his head at her and walked away. 

Cecily looked down at her youngest son for the first time. She’d helped other women give birth when she was younger, and had always thought newborn babies ugly, but whenever she looked down at her own, they were the most beautiful and perfect little things in the entire world. She smiled and offered the little baby her finger to hold. 

Like with all of her other children, she felt her eyes sting. There was something about holding her child for the first time that always brought chills to Cecily’s body. It’s not like when she held Anna for the first time, the feeling she felt that her life would forever be changed, but it was more like when Christopher was born; she didn’t feel any fear, just happiness. She kissed the baby’s forehead.

“I wish you could have met your grandparents.” She whispered.

Edmund and Linette had passed away four months ago, and it had been difficult for Cecily not having been able to visit them when they were still alive. Since she was pregnant, she and the baby would be at high risk of death, if she caught the influenza disease. 

She tried to shake off the memory. Right now, she only wanted to focus on the good things in life, not the bad.

She looked up and saw Christopher a distance away from where she was. He must have moved away from her once the baby was out and the Silent Brothers began moving about, preparing the child to be held and checking to make sure everything was alright. Christopher looked at the baby in wonder, one of the first babies he’d ever seen. 

“Come meet your brother, Kit.” She said, holding a hand out.

She motioned for Christopher to sit next to her on the bed and, resting the baby on her chest momentarily, demonstrated how to position his arms.

“That’s right, bach.” She said, lifting the baby to put in Kit's arms.

“Mam,” he said nervously. “What if I drop him?”

Cecily smiled. “You won’t. I have faith in you.” 

She gently placed the baby in his brother’s arms, Christopher looking like he was holding his breath.

“Breathe, darling. It’s just your brother. Look at how much he likes you. He’s already reaching out to you.” The baby’s hands were indeed opening and closing slowly. Cecily helped Christopher adjust his arms, so that he was supporting the baby’s head better, and when she sat back, she felt a pang in her chest at seeing her two sons together. Christopher had a soft smile on his lips, the smile that many people had told her is the same as her own. 

Sometime after she’d put the baby in Kit’s arms, a Silent Brother told her she needed to push out the placenta, so that they could begin healing the tears induced by the birth. She nodded and when she began pushing again, Kit looked up, confused. 

“Is there another one?” He asked, surprised, his eyes wide with curiosity.

“Heavens, no. Thank the Angel. It’s just the placenta.” 

Christopher still looked confused. 

“It’s nothing you need to worry about, bach.” She reassured him.

…

The Silent Brothers were gone by the time Gabriel and Anna got home.

Cecily had been feeding the baby, and Christopher was reading a book on his back, keeping her company. He’d given up on reading The Picture of Dorian Gray, had switched it for a book on science. Cecily had tried to read a couple of sentences, but was deeply confused by them, not being able to understand a thing. 

“I don’t know how you can read that, Christopher. I can’t follow a single sentence, much less the entire book.”

Kit looked up at her. “It’s not that hard, it’s just that Biology is interconnected, so you have to understand the previous concepts to understand this one.”

Cecily laughed. “You put a lot of faith in me, Kit.” 

Christopher tilted his head to the side. 

“What are you reading about now?”

“Genetics. Why children come out looking like their parents.”

“There’s an explanation behind that?” She asked.

“Yes! We all inherit half of our genes from our mother and half from our father.”

“Are you sure? I can’t imagine your father inheriting anything from Benedict.”

“It’s more so to do with physical traits.” Kit explained. “Like blue eyes or green eyes.”

“That’s quite interesting, bach.” she said.

And that’s how Cecily got a lesson on genetics. She was happy to listen to her son talk happily about science and to have her new baby in her arms and be able to kiss his tiny, soft nose and occasionally ruffle Christopher’s hair.

…

“By the Angel, Cecy.” Gabriel said, coming inside, worried. Both Anna and Gabriel had a lot of snow on their coats. They must have come home running after hearing the news. “Are you alright? Is the baby?”

“Yes, yes. Stop worrying.” Cecily said, holding up the bundle of blankets they’d hidden the baby inside of.

Anna’s eyes widened as her eyes landed on the bundle in Cecily’s arms. “Is that the baby? It’s so small.”

Cecily nodded and Anna walked quickly to kneel beside the bed and smiled at the baby. 

“Hello.” She whispered, touching his cheek lightly.

“This is your new brother,” Cecily said, smiling at Anna.

Gabriel leaned in over Cecily’s shoulder, close enough that she could see his face as he smiled down at his youngest child. He put a hand on her shoulder, and kissed her temple lightly while Anna cooed at the baby. 

…

A few moments later, Anna was sitting on the armchair across the room, holding the baby for the first time, Christopher standing to the side, letting the baby hold his finger.

Gabriel leaned close to her and whispered, “what do you think about Alexander?”

Cecily turned to look at him and smiled. “Alexander?”

Gabriel shrugged, brushing her hair away from her face. “I was thinking about names while I took Anna sledding. I tried to come up with names for each letter of the alphabet and I got to ‘Maxwell’ before I thought of Alexander.”

Cecily looked back at her children, interlacing her hand with Gabriel’s. “What made you think of Alexander?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Maybe the letter ‘X’ that they have in common.” 

Cecily felt her smile grow wider. “I love it. Alexander.”

She felt Gabriel put his arms around her and she rested her head on his warm chest. 

“The birth wasn’t that bad, was it?” Gabriel said, his voice lightly amused.

“Go to hell.” Cecily mumbled against his shirt.

Tagging: @tsccreatorsnet @atla-lok143 @rinadragomir @youngreckless @autumnangel20 @julemmaes @cupcakesandkittens @no-scones-allowed @fictionally-fantastic @stxr-thxif @writeforjordelia @itsdaughterofthemoon @jordeliasupremacy @cordelia-cardale @will-effing-herondale @axoloteca @heronstairs2014 @ilovemanicures 

If you want to be on my tag list, or if you changed your url recently and your not in the tag list anymore, let me know! Oh, an if you asked to be on the tag list and you’re not on it, please tell me (I’m very absentminded haha)

#cecily lightwood #gabriel lightwood #cecily x gabriel #alexander lightwood #christopher lightwood #anna lightwood #tsc #tsc fanfictions #tlh fanfiction #tid fanfiction

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Yeah, so I read your HP headcanons/analysis and I found it really well put. I was wondering about your thoughts on Dumbledore and who he really was as a person. (It’s okay if you don’t really want to reply :> )

We’re just getting all up into The Carnivorous Muffin headcanon land, aren’t we?

Well, this one’s probably obvious to anyone who reads my work.

I fall on the manipulative Dumbledore side of things and then some. Dumbledore is not only a bastard man but is a raging misogynist and extremely classist (which is funny because I don’t see too many people calling him out for those last two when to me canon all but shouts it at you). 

Basically, what it comes down to, is even taken in very good faith I simply cannot read Dumbledore’s actions as benign in pretty much every single goddamn decision he makes ever.

God, where do I even start here? I guess we can go chronologically.

Well, there was Dumbledore’s Wizard Nazi youth with an oddly Dorian Gray flare to it with Gellert. I think it’s fairly obvious why Dumbledore’s not exactly... good there so I’m going to skip past it. Suffice to say, it took his sister’s death (and maybe murdering his own invalid sister) for Dumbledore to stop planning world domination. Even then it wasn’t so much that world domination was wrong, but because his sister died and he was an asshole.

I’m going to go ahead and include CoG and Fantastic Beasts because I can (CoG, while a terrible movie, actually does entertain me in many ways). Anyways, before the films came out I always considered the younger Dumbledore far more stoic and brooding. He doesn’t get his eccentric persona until after the defeat of Grindelwald and was before then angsty mcangsts and an academic at heart. 

Well, per CoG, apparently he was a budding spy master long before defeating Gellert/Voldemort popped up. We see him manipulating Newt, sending him to Paris as his own agent, WHEN NEWT DOESN’T WANT TO GO AND HAS ACKNOWLEDGED THAT DUMBLEDORE USED HIM INTHE LAST FILM. Dumbledore writes off having used Newt for his own agenda with a charming smile but none the less it paints a pretty grim picture that Albus has always been... Albus. There has always been a greater good out there somewhere and the man is always using someone as a pawn.

Cut to canon and his treatment of Tom Riddle. Frankly, Dumbledore’s treatment of the young Tom Riddle, and even Tom Riddle just before he came Voldemort, is insane. The thought experiment I like to run is “replace Tom in those scenes with Harry Potter”.

Harry was a poor orphan, whose guardians would more than match what Mrs. Cole said about Tom Riddle, who had spurts of accidental magic now and then and enjoyed when his bully cousin was discomfitted. Now, imagine Dumbledore giving Harry his letter, and then pretending to light all of Harry’s possessions on fire to “teach him a lesson”. What the fuck?

Now, am I saying Tom Riddle wasn’t creepy here and that killing a rabbit was terrible. No. But I am saying Dumbledore had a horrible reaction to it and is proud of it years later. (Also, the fact that he uses this memory to convince Harry of how evil Tom is, is hilarious to me. Dumbledore, you were the shit that lit people’s wardrobes on fire. If I was Tom, I’d be upset too). 

Dumbledore is always like this with Tom Riddle. He thinks the worst of Tom even in points where Tom hasn’t done anything. I’m not talking about later when, yes, Tom did live up to Dumbledore’s fears but when Dumbledore treats him like garbage and actively sabotaged Tom’s career.

Anyways, cut to later when the Marauders are in school. One of the big things is that Dumbledore puts up a guerilla resistance gang OF SCHOOL CHILDREN. While most members are older, James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, and Peter are all only just out of Hogwarts. “Well,” you say, “It’s their choice and they did graduate. Surely Dumbledore wasn’t actually recruiting school children.” I point you towards canon, where Dumbledore convinces three actual school children that the fate of the nation rests on their shoulders and to go fight the good fight. So yes, Dumbledore canonically uses child soldiers and has no regret for doing so.

The other is letting James and Sirius off the hook for the Lupin incident. While Dumbledore talks the talk this showed that he was not willing to walk the walk. True, while getting them into major trouble would have involved outing Lupin (who was innocent in all of this) at the same time they were nearly responsible for the murder of another student. It’s very convenient that Dumbledore lets off the rich son of a lord, two individuals who later end up in the resistance movement (Potter likely funding part of it), and tells the impoverished half blood to sit down and shut up.

And in canon, yes, I believe that Dumbledore absolutely knew what Harry’s home condition was like. While the blood wards are an excuse they aren’t a particularly good one as for most of Harry’s childhood the Death Eaters were all accounted for. Harry was in no extreme danger from them. To not have had an inkling of Harry’s home life (when Harry even hints at it when wanting to stay over the summer, Harry runs away from home in third year, Fred and George see the bars on the window, and he even visits Harry’s home in sixth year) would be such laughable incompetence and stupidity it’s right out.

With that, I absolutely do believe what Snape showed us in the memory, the Dumbledore behind the scenes as it were. That Dumbledore knew fairly early that Harry Potter was a horcrux and began grooming Harry for suicide. Specifically, that’s what sixth year really is. All those memories of Tom Riddle, the pretext to get some memory from Slughorn, it’s an excuse for a smear campaign designed to convince Harry that Tom Riddle is inherently evil and must die at all costs, even Harry’s own life. 

Dumbledore didn’t need that Slughorn memory. Sure, it was useful to know Tom intended to make seven but think about it. How did Dumbledore know there’d be anything remotely useful in there? He doesn’t know that Tom actually drops a number on Slughorn. Even then, he doesn’t know whether Tom actually goes and does it. All of it felt like, “Harry, I have a super secret important mission that only YOU can do. Can you handle it, Harry? Because without this the country is surely doomed” And in that I mean it was an effort to win back Harry’s favor after the previous year meltdown, keep him busy, and start in on the excuse to show Harry some pretty damn innocuous memories of Tom Riddle and go, “See, HE IS EVIL!”

Due to this, I frankly think that the train scene was a hallucination on Harry’s part. Wishful thinking for some gentle explanation of how Dumbledore had not cruelly used him for years and intended his death. 

Well, that and it never made much sense that Dumbledore could predict Harry’s a) becoming the master of death b) miraculous second resurrection.

In the first case, Harry becomes master of death because of wand lore bullshit and happenstance where Harry happens to save Draco’s life. Dumbledore had no idea such a thing would happen. Dumbledore’s plan was for there to be no master of death, as the wand would default to having no owner when Snape defeated Dumbledore on Dumbledore’s orders. That Draco got the wand is a sort of Deus ex Machina. Sorry guys, Dumbledore intended Harry to die.

More, even then, while Dumbledore was very into the occult of these things we leave canon without any idea if these things are even responsible for his resurrection. They’re just relatively nifty objects with a legend behind them. There was nothing concrete to suggest that, should Harry happen to get all of them, he would be able to rise from the dead.

Otherwise onto the misogyny and classism parts.

In terms of misogyny this is from every time Dumbledore talks about Lily Evans or Merope Gaunt. In the case of Lily, she’s this weird Madonna figure whose love for Harry was so powerful it saved his life. That she also happened to make these blood wards Dumbledore cannot reproduce and extended her protection to Harry wherever he went is irrelevant. It’s her love that counts. That feminine, maternal, love purer than all others.

Basically, Dumbledore seems to be of the belief that women are flowers. The best of women are these demure, selfless, brave women who sacrifice themselves for their children. Yikes, Dumbledore.

Merope’s the really bad one though. Merope’s tale is how she drugged and raped a defenseless muggle for months and then he escaped. Dumbledore spins it into this Victorian tale of woe where Tom Riddle Sr. THE KIDNAPPED RAPE VICTIM is the asshole here who abandoned Merope to the merciless cold world. How dare he. 

It’s very clear that Dumbledore doesn’t see Merope, or women in general, as people. Instead these weird Victorian ideals who can be tragic victims of circumstance.

As for the classism.

While Dumbledore’s very against the pureblood culture we see in the Malfoys a lot of his treatment of Tom Riddle feels very... classist. The big one, which is a little tangential but I say it counts, is Dumbledore’s theory that children of rape are incapable of love. Granted, he’s saying this while convincing Harry to kill himself for the good of the cause and there is a real world parallel in that alcohol/drugs while pregnant is a very bad idea that can lead to extreme mental and physical health disorders. That said, we’re talking love potions at conception, and it always read more as “rape babies” vs. specific drugs. And that is... just yikes on so many levels.

Now, do I agree with manipulative Dumbledore we see in many fics? No, because Dumbledore’s not that stupid.

He doesn’t need to borrow money from Harry’s vault, he doesn’t need to pay off Hermione and Ron to be Harry’s friends, he doesn’t need to choose Harry’s friends for him, he doesn’t need to manipulate Harry’s memories directly. He doesn’t need to do any of this because he got what he wanted just fine in canon.

Dumbledore is one of the smartest characters in canon, far smarter than Harry, and he doesn’t have to stoop to such outrageous schemes to get what he wants. Poorly concealed smear campaigns convincing Harry to commit suicide are more than enough.

#ask #anon #headcanons #albus dumbledore #manipulative dumbledore #dumbledore is pretty damn evil guys #as in there is pretty much not a single action you can point to where i'll say it was reasonable and not in some way underhanded #except maybe his choice in wardrobe #the man has some elton john style

[feysandfeels]

Bless that T Swift/SJM crossover anon!! Can I add some other ones?!

The 1 - Chaol & Celaena after she’s Aelin again (or Chaol & Nesryn.....poor Chaol)

The Last Great American Dynasty - more like the Last Great Terrasen Dynasty lol

My Tears Ricochet - Aelin @ Arobyn

Mirrorball - Lysandra

Mad Woman = AELIN

The Lakes - Aelin talking about Rowan when she’s tired of it all

Not my (Chloe Ting sponsored) ass realizing just now that the original anon meant all the sjm pairings, but since I’m deep in the acotar trash atm I only made those. 

ACOTAR I & II

Apologies jeje. 

Manorian: generally speaking they have such reputation vibes. Immaculate record for immaculate couple.

... Ready for it? - “But if he's a ghost, then I can be a phantom Holdin' him for ransom” // “Younger than my exes but he act like such a man, so I see nothing better, I keep him forever Like a vendetta-ta” // “You should see the things we do, baby In the middle of the night, in my dreams I know I'm gonna be with you So I take my time Are you ready for it?”. Listen do I really need to explain this or do we all just see it?. This song has the electricity, the sexyness, the roughness, the daring aspect that makes manorian be the GOD tier couple that they are. 

I’d Lie - Right, bare with me  but I will lol at this forever because Manon is basically “And I could tell you his favorite color's green He loves to argue, born on the seventeenth His sister's beautiful, he has his father's eyes And if you asked me if I love him, I'd lie”. It’s such a weird song to associate with them but it fits her so well hahahahaha because my girl lives in such denial that I just can’t hahahahahahaaha and like “I don't let nobody see me wishing he was mine” this is MANON FOR DORIAN ALL THE TIME, and everyone is like but we see you wanting him so just do something about it!!!

Rowaelin

Willow - this screams Rowan looking at Aelin: “Wherever you stray I follow I'm begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans That's my man”. He straight up left Maeve and the blood pact thingy they had for the blond girl he met three months prior. Also “Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark Show me the places where the others gave you scars Now this is an open-shut case Guess I should've known from the look on your face Every bait and switch was a work of art”, this speaks of the vulnerability shared through HoF about their scars and of Rowan realizng that every step he took was so he would met her. Willow is Rowan’s song for Aelin. 

The Lakes- LET HER GO TO TERRASEN WHERE ALL THE POETS WENT TO DIE, LET HER STAY SO THAT WISTERIA GROWS AROUND HER FEET BECAUSE SHE HASN’T MOVED IN YEARS. 

Elorcan

Hoax - the balance of the deep betrayal and the love, the hurt and the I would choose you again all of the nuances of Lorcan’s betrayal and the shattered illusions that speak of them even in their absences, are in Hoax: “Stood on the cliffside Screaming, "Give me a reason" Your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in Don't want no other shade of blue But you No other sadness in the world would dI believe in Don't want no other shade of blue But you No other sadness in the world would do”.

Lysandeon

Paper rings- “The wine is cold Like the shoulder that I gave you in the street Cat and mouse for a month or two or three Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe”. This song matches their energy so well even if the lyrics don’t all offer exact parallels. They did however play cat and mouse for a month or two or three. “I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings Uh huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want” Lysandra being accustomed to the finer things in life but she would slum it for Aedion; she is here for thick and thin.

Nesraq: 

Gorgeous - “Of your magnetic field being a little too strong And I got a boyfriend (Chaol), he's older than us He's in the club (palace) doing, I don't know what (Yrene....) You're so cool (Sartaq really is the coolest), it makes me hate you so much (I hate you so much)” // You make me so happy (dude Nesryn loves spending time with him and he feels valued), it turns back to sad (fuck what about Chaol.. we promised each other it give it ago), yeah There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have (because he’s the prince and I’m not royal) You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad”.

Chaorene: 

Dancing with our hands tied - even if the lyrics don’t create perfect parallels, I think the main theme of the song being two people that want to be together, but feel their relationship has a lot of baggage would fit them well. Yrene has to get over her hate for Adarlan (even though she has every every every right to hate Adarlan) and Chaol has to get over *himself*. “I, I loved you in spite of Deep fears that the world would divide us So, baby, can we dance Oh, through an avalanche? And say, say that we got it I'm a mess, but I'm the mess that you wanted”.

 Sam x Celaena:

I know places - them trying to run away so they could find a safe place to be in love? indeed. Me crying right now because they never got to? you bet: “'Cause they got the cages, they got the boxes And guns They are the hunters, we are the foxes And we runBaby, I know places we won't be found and They'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down Cause I, I, I, I know places we can hide, I, I (...)”.

Dorian x Celaena: 

The Way I loved you - To Dorian from Aelin... with love, friendship love that is. Because she recognizes the potential in him, in them, she knows he would be good to her and she knows that she indeed fell for him hard enough to want him for herself, but it just doesn’t feel like *that* anymore.

Red - From Dorian’s perspective: “Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly”// “Touching him was like realizing all you ever wanted Was right there in front of you Memorizing him was as easy as knowing all the words To your old favorite song Fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword And realizing there's no right answer”. They were literally a crash and burn. But neither of them can actually bring themselves to regret it. It was fun while it lasted and in its way it brought them closer. 

Chaol x Celaena: 

We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together - self explanatory, this is them through QoS. My Celorian ass is here for this pettiness I will take no criticism.  

Forever and Always - “Was I out of line? Did I say something way too honest, made you run and hide Like a scared little boy I looked into your eyes Thought I knew you for a minute, now I'm not so sure So here's to everything coming down to nothing Here's to silence, that cuts me to the core Where is this going? Thought I knew for a minute, but I don't anymore” This was essentially Chaol’s thought process wondering why him an Celaena don’t work anymore and feeling like... a “we were supposed to be together 5ever what happened.... besides me not doing much to prevent her bff’s death and working for the dude that orchestrated the murder of her nation ?”

August - if I’m being honest this song fits them too not my fave song from folklore being for my least favorite couple in this story but if I gave Feylin some of my all time favorites I can give this one to them, but like “But I can see us lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine Your back beneath the sun Wishin' I could write my name on it” Even though Chaol was ready to leave it all for her (he would literally cancel plans.. his life plans in case she’d call) she knew that this was an impossibility, their time was brief and it slipped away like a bottle of wine. She could never be his, because she was not entirely herself with him being Aelin meant opening up a lot of things and if Chaol had a hard time getting past a lot of Celaena’s traits then we can imagine the work, literally work he would have to do to accept Aelin... you know what, we don’t have to imagine it... it’s right there in QoS and ToD, anywho, he could never write his name on her back because she was never his, because he did not accept her for all that she was. 

Aelin x Dorian x Chaol: 

Long live - “I  said, remember this moment, in the back of my mind The time we stood with our shaking hands The crowds in stands went wild We were the kings and the queens” // “Will you take a moment? Promise me this That you'll stand by me forever But if, God forbid, fate should step in And force us into a goodbye If you have children some day When they point to the pictures Please tell them my name Tell them how the crowds went wild Tell them how I hope they shine Long live the walls we crashed through I had the time of my life, with you” // I’m emotional right now and I need to cry it out.

I’m not 100% sure on the Chaoyrene one... but I think it’s good enough for me to post this hahaha

Anywho, I hope whoever asked for this enjoyed it 💛💛

#Feysandfeelsasks #Rowaelin #Manorian #Elorcan #Chaorene #Nesraq #Lysandion #Celorian #I don't know what Chaol and Celaena were #sorry

[malulls]

The Darkest Part of the Sea- Chapter 5

Manorian Pirate fanfic

Manon was almost certain that her brain would combust at any second.

Her head was aching from the hours she had spent trying to find a way off that ship. After repeatedly analyzing every inch of that cell project, Manon could no longer bear to look at the wooden panels, the small barrel in the corner of the cell that she had no idea what it was doing there, the bars, and the small glass circle on the wall to her right, which she concluded was her only option to get out of that place. Breaking that hatch was all Manon needed to escape. But she had to get free of the chains first to reach it.

Her tongue was hurting from cursing the damned prince, his damned money, and those damned chains. The heiress had gotten her way out of chains several times before without much difficulty, but these chains were strong and had a complicated locking system that she couldn't escape without some sort of tool.

The chains were driving Manon crazy. She could barely reach the bars of the cell without being pulled back, and hatred spread through her like fire in oil every time she ran her hands over her wrists and her fingers touched iron instead of skin. And even if she could get out of there, how would she get her Thirteen out? She could kill a good part of the crew, but even if she was a pirate and a strong fighter, she couldn't handle thirty people at once. Especially when they had whatever it was that thing they used to make her pass out.

Her thoughts were interrupted by footsteps in the hallway. She rose from the bed she was lying in as Dorian entered, carrying a bowl with a spoon and a metal cup.

- What are you doing here?

- You know, you're the prisoner- He said with a hint of irritation in his tone as he propped up the bowl and cup, so he could grab the keys- I should be asking questions. I brought food.

The witch didn't hide her surprise when he opened the cell door, entered, and placed the food on top of the barrel leaning against the bars. Before she could get up and rip his head from his body, Dorian came out and quickly locked the lock. It was an effort not to punch the wall.

- You are a prince. Shouldn't your subordinates feed your prisoners?

He laughed.

- If I asked my subordinates to bring you food, they would at least send me to hell.

- Your crew is strange.

But she couldn't help thinking that in some ways they were a little like her own. Manon didn't know when she had last eaten, she had been asleep for three days and had lost a lot of blood. Probably that was one of the reasons for the incessant headache. She hadn't even realized it, maybe because she was so concerned about the Thirteen and getting out of there, but realizing how long it had been since she had eaten made an overwhelming hunger come out of nowhere. She dried the water from her glass in seconds. However, the porridge in the bowl made her hesitate, despite her hunger.

- Being royalty, shouldn't your ship have decent food?

- We do. For us. Just yesterday you were complaining because I leave my prisoners intact, today you are demanding a banquet. Decide yourself, witchling.

She didn't bother to answer. Instead, she made the sacrifice of putting a spoonful of porridge in her mouth. Surprisingly, it was not undrinkable. The taste was still bad, of course, but it was not the strange, horrible, cold putty that usually circulated through most of Erilea's ships. The witch stopped eating and shot a curious glance at the prince sitting in the chair opposite her.

- Are you going to stay there?

- I have decided to grace you with my company.

- Why?

- Because it would be a crime to let the most beautiful woman in the world die of boredom in a cellar.

She slowly lowered the spoon back into the bowl and supported it on her thighs.

- Yesterday you were looking at me with hatred, today I am the most beautiful woman in the world. Decide yourself, princeling.

- Being angry with you, unfortunately, doesn't make you any less beautiful. Did you finish?

She passed the spoon, the glass, and the empty bowl to him through the bars.

- Is this what you've been waiting for? You think I'm going to open this cell with a spoon?

- I think you could open this cell even with a feather, so I'd rather not risk it.

Smart man. She let her golden eyes travel over his face, the sapphire eyes, the beautiful mouth that was constantly curved into that grin of mischief, further down to a scar, a white line that ran down part of his neck.

- It seems that the sea doesn't leave even princes intact. How did you get the scar?

A humorless laugh echoed through the cell.

- I didn't get it at the sea.

His reaction made Manon think that maybe the palace walls protected royalty from what was outside, but they couldn't do anything about what hurt them from the inside.

- And it seems you don't win every fight. The scar on your abdomen, who did that to you?

Manon tried to contain the shiver that went through her body at the thought of that mark. She rarely felt fear, but that was definitely a weakness. The witch tried hard to bury that memory before it came back to haunt her.

- What caused this was not a fight. It was a punishment. I did something I shouldn't have, and this was my reward.

The surprise in his blue eyes turned into something she couldn't decipher.

- And what could you possibly have done that was so horrible that you deserved such a punishment?

- I put an apple in a baby's mouth, cooked the child, and ate him for dinner.

He looked confused for a few seconds, and then started to laugh.

- If your goal was to terrify me, you did it, witchling.

Then he turned his back and left. Manon averted her eyes to the glass hatch, thinking again of a way to get off that ship and make the crown prince of Adarlan swallow his own teeth.

-

Dorian's mood quickly dissipated. The little distraction Manon had offered gave way to memories of how he had gotten the scar on his neck.

I didn't get it at sea.

He was sixteen when he left the castle. Dorian remembered those days perfectly, as if they had divided his life into before and after.

The ship he was on had just returned from a trip to the beaches of Eyllwe, but instead of embarking in the large port of Meah, they had to embark in one of the small ports on the coast because of the tide. It was a longer trip to the capital, and he passed through dozens of towns until he arrived in Rifthold. Dozens of towns where people didn't even have enough to eat. Thousands of them. Everywhere up to Rifthold and then even more in the capital itself.

Dorian was no fool. He knew that a large part of his people did not live in good conditions, but that... Adarlan was one of the richest kingdoms in Erilea, second only to Terrasen. Almost entire cities where people had nothing shouldn't exist, it didn't make sense. He couldn't sleep, not with those images in his head. He couldn't even keep the nausea away when he walked through the riches of the palace after he arrived.

How long had this been going on? How long had entire villages been starving to death? How long had he not known, not done anything at all? The few times Dorian had the courage to try to ask his father what the hell was going on, the king didn't answer him. It was not possible that the kingdom was broke. The plantations, the commerce were stable, so what was wrong?

The prince was supposed to attend the countless meetings that the king's council held, as a duty, but Dorian had been forbidden to attend months after it started. Because he always disagreed with the king. And his father would not admit this. Besides, he always made it clear that he didn't mind his presence or lack of it.

It was the role of the foolish, unconcerned prince that allowed him to walk the castle from top to bottom, after all, who would suspect that the careless crown prince was sifting through documents and contracts? The answer to what was going on in the outlying towns came in two words, clear and simple.

Contraband and trafficking.

Of resources stolen from other countries, of people, coming in legal ships, Royal Marine ships that could be identified as shipments of "secret" products by a small detail on their flags.

All the towns they passed through, which were not victims of poverty, but of contraband merchants who forced them to work and paid them practically nothing. All this being driven from within the castle walls.

How to report this? Who would make the royalty pay for their crimes?

Dorian made the mistake of confronting his father. To expose all that and scream why the hell he wasn't doing anything about it.

"Adarlan is about to become the most powerful kingdom in Erilea. I don't care if I have to use miserable peasants to achieve that. And I don't think they care where they are seven palms below the earth, right where they belong."

Dorian exploded. He didn't realize that he had raised his hand until his fist hit the king's jaw, nor did he care about the consequences of that as he shouted to his father exactly what he thought about him.

The prince regretted it the moment he saw the hatred in his eyes. The next thing he knew, he was slamming his head against the wall and his neck was being crushed.

Dorian never found out what his father had used to strangle him. He only knew that he had left a scar, and that he had never felt so afraid before. The breathlessness and the fury on the king's face prompted a single thought in his mind, the certainty that he was going to die. The despair not only because he was dying, but because it was his father who would do this to him, made something break inside Dorian so violently that his vision darkened.

Then suddenly he was collapsing on the ground, still alive, his neck burning and the feeling of air returning to his lungs felt like the most precious thing he had ever felt.

"Revolt again and the next time I won't let go of your neck."

Dorian couldn't get up. For a long time. And when he did, the first thing he did was pack his bags and get on the first ship he could.

He didn't set foot in Adarlan for a year. And when he came back, it was to get his own ship, now with a purpose. And to see Chaol and explain to his best friend part of what made him leave, about the dirty business the royalty was getting into the line of their own pockets and increase the wealth of the kingdom.

Four years later and Dorian was still breathless sometimes, still waking up choking on his own neck, trying to keep his hands off someone who wasn't there.

The few times he had returned to the kingdom, it was to at least keep up appearances for the people and the other kingdoms and to pretend that he was traveling with the Royal Marine. Sometimes Chaol traveled with him. But he was the captain of the guard, he had a life and a home in the castle that Dorian, even though he was the prince himself never had.

It took him a long time to tell his friend what had really happened, what his father had done, the reason he occasionally woke up screaming in the middle of the night. The horror of finding out what the king had done and his father's insistence on taking him back to Anielle to make him a lord led Chaol to travel more and more frequently with Dorian.

Months ago, a rumor had spread across the seas. A rumor that a part of the oldest treasure in the world had been found by the most wicked thieves in Erilea. All the kingdoms began to search for it, and the king invited Dorian to Rifthold for the first time in a long time. He had started looking for the rings just as the rumors began, and thanks to Terrin Westfall, Chaol's brother and a student a little too devoted to books, who from so many hours in the libraries among books and maps, had found a scrap of writing so old that it was almost falling apart, and pointed to the location of jewels that had been missing for centuries, somewhere in the Narrow Sea.

Dorian didn't know why he had agreed to go. To prove something to the king? Because he had no choice? To occupy himself instead of dwelling on the fact that his father had sent him to that hellish place without thinking twice about it?

He shouldn't be surprised by this, not after the king had almost killed him and threatened to actually do it if the prince disagreed. But it still hurt, he couldn't help it.

It hurt, and a Lot.

-----------------------

This was written for a while, sorry it took too long

@awesomelena555 @darklingswhxore @hellasblessed @positivewitch @wandererbyheart @notyournymphetish @acourtofsjmtrash

#dorian havilliard #manon blackbeak #manorian #throne of glass #sarah j maas #dorian x manon #fanfic #manon x dorian #pirates

[straight-into-the-animus]

Truth or Dare (French Fryes)

I’m writing the backlogged stuff but I had a dream about this scenario and had to get it out.

Read it on Ao3!

“Let’s play truth or dare.”

“Are we seven?” Arno asked even as Ezio tugged him over to sit in a circle. Coming to a party when he wanted to sleep for twelve hours after finals already wasn’t on his plans, but Ezio had insisted, and well… 

Some people had weak constitutions to Italian friends.

“Seven year olds can’t dare each other to do illegal shit.” Kassandra gleefully declared, and excitement shot through almost everyone at the manner of what they could all get into despite the protests of Altair and Bayek.

“Alright, nothing too illegal. But if you do it… Don’t film and post it.”

This was generally accepted and the game commenced.

It went by quickly, everyone content with trying to outdo the other. 

“Alexios has to switch pants with Evie.”

“Malik has to make out with a wall!”

“He already does, his name is Altair-”

Those who chose truth were generally heckled until they chose dare, but at the risk of sharing secrets -- no one wanted to, anyway -- dares were chosen almost always.

“Okay, okay, Jacob,” Ezio eventually called out once people had sufficiently calmed down after seeing Altair drink a mustard-based smoothie, “truth or dare?”

“You know me.” Jacob kicked back, leaning against the foot of the couch. “Dare.”

“I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

“There should be an exception against the coupled up, right?” Bayek asked, and Aya quickly hushed him with her interest to see how it would all play out.

Arno sipped his drink, watching eagerly. There was an unnecessary flutter in his heart as he watched Jacob consider, scratching the beginnings of his beard.

“Alexios-”

Oh.

“D’you mind moving so I can get to Arno?”

Oh.

Arno swore it was a miracle he didn’t die from choking on the vodka-cran mix as Jacob scooted past the ‘disgruntled’ Greek until he was a breath away from the Frenchman.

“Did you need me to move as well?” Arno asked, glancing from hazel eyes to lips that curled into the smallest, shiest smirk he’d ever seen.

“Not unless you really want to. I’ve made my choice, though.”

Arno refused -- refused -- to show he was melting in and out, and placed his cup next to him definitely before looking Jacob in the eye.

“Then do it.”

The first press of lips against his was softer than he thought it would be, but he wasn’t complaining at all. His hand went up to tangle in the back of Jacob’s hair as the other planted behind his back for leverage against Jacob’s gradually deepening push. He took the demands happily as they started to come, even as their friends began to talk about how it wasn’t Seven Minutes in Heaven and other people had to go.

“Think we can leave them be for a while?” Jacob pulled back just a bit, cheeks and neck showing their flush, and Arno smiled as he took it in.

“They’ll go on without us.” Arno took Jacob’s hand and they hurried off to find somewhere more secluded.

---------------

The first date ended up being one of the cheesiest and most classic; dinner and a movie. It had been Jacob’s idea, and he sounded so uncharacteristically nervous and unsure about it on the phone that Arno couldn’t help but grow fonder and accept it.

“Are you still nervous?” Arno asked, and Jacob looked up from across the booth at him.

“I’m not nervous.”

“You tore up your straw paper.” Arno pointedly looked at the flimsy white shreds scattering across the table like snow, and Jacob half-heartedly brushed them away.

“You’re gonna laugh.”

“Try me.” Arno said, fixing his gaze on the other, and Jacob averted meeting his eyes before changing his mind about it.

“I almost cancelled the date.”

“You didn’t want…?”

“It’s not you, I promise. I mean, not that I didn’t want to be on a date with you.” Jacob was quick to clear up. “I just… Didn’t think you wanted to come to a place like this.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Arno gestured around the restaurant slightly. It was a small family affair, had probably been around since after the second world war.

“It’s supposed to mean that a place like this is fine for me. I love coming here. But you’re used to… More.”

“I just wanted to go out with you, Jacob.” Arno reached over and held his hand. “I would’ve been happy with just a walk in the park for the night.”

“That’s a bit of a lie.”

“Maybe. But only cause it’s cold out there.”

Jacob laughed a bit and Arno smiled to hear it. They broke apart as the food and drinks came around for them, but even the emergence of that didn’t seem to completely quell whatever Jacob was feeling; Arno was sure he was even waiting to hear some sort of complaint about the pasta Arno had ordered, as if there was a way to mess it up. Eventually Arno came up with an idea.

“Hey. Truth or dare.”

“Huh?”

“Truth or dare.” Arno waited as Jacob furrowed his brow but answered all the same.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to have a good time and forget about anything except that I’m happy to be with you.”

Jacob’s confusion only grew until he understood, and he smiled; a slow, genuine thing spreading across his face.

“As you say, monsieur.”

And Jacob kept to that dare, never wanting to be shown up ever.

---------------

It wasn’t their first time, but it had to have been their best. Arno rested his head against Jacob’s shoulder as he came, a choked up sound spilling out from one of them. It went quiet save for their heavy breathing, and Arno hated to break it. Jacob had already come and made a mess of Arno’s front as a result, sticking to him even as Arno pulled out.

“If you’re getting a flannel, mind getting me some water?” Jacob sighed as Arno got off the bed, and Arno shook his head bemusedly.

“Swear I’ve spoiled you rotten.” He called out as he left, but did come back with a cup of water.

“How can I be rotten when I make things so sweet?” Jacob grinned as Arno quickly wiped them both off and discarded the flannel.

“You can carry yourself to the bathroom when you need to piss halfway through the night.” Arno noted before getting under the covers, Jacob quickly placing the cup away before grabbing him and pulling him close to act as the big spoon. A standard position despite the new environment.

“Think we’ve christened the new flat enough?” Jacob asked, kissing behind Arno’s ear, and he hummed in response.

“Perhaps. Wouldn’t be opposed to another round after a break.” 

“Sometimes you know exactly what to say.” Jacob smiled, and Arno felt it and returned it, even if he couldn’t see. “Hey… Truth or dare?”

“This again?” Both of them had made it a regular game to play with each other, something to pull out when they wanted. Sometimes it just happened when they couldn’t stand the silence, other times if they wanted to just cause a little trouble. Their friends still thought it was stupid to keep it up after two years, but everytime they tried to voice an opinion both men would just remind them that it had been what brought them together, thank you very much, and it would remain in their lives until it couldn’t anymore.

And they had decided to carry in the tradition even after Arno got his promotion and they decided to take the leap and move in together.

“Truth.”

“You happy?”

“More than anything.” Arno turned in Jacob’s arms and took him in, a hand closing the small distance between them to stroke his skin. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Do you love me?”

Jacob’s smile could be seen from space as he replied.

“More than anything.”

---------------

Arno came back only when it became dark enough that the lampposts were nearly unable to light up anything on the sidewalk. He was still tense as he stepped up the stairs with feet that barely wanted to make a sound. Half of him foolishly hoped that Jacob had been so pissed that he’d gone to bed and Arno could simply take the extra blankets from their little closet and spend the night on the couch, but he still saw the glow of yellow light spilling out from the crack under their flat door and heard the television still going. So Jacob was still up.

Arno braced himself, taking a deep breath as he pulled out his key and let himself in. The yellow light cast an uneasy shadow around everything in the flat, Jacob included. He was stretched out on the couch, face impassive as he took in something on the news.

“Took you long enough.” He greeted Arno as the man closed the door firmly behind him.

“If you’re staying on the couch, I’m taking the bed.”

“Oh, there’s the sensible shit coming out.” Jacob said, glancing over at him. “Seems about right.”

“Jacob-”

“Obviously I don’t have it in me, thank fucking God Arno Dorian does-”

“Jacob-”

“How could we ever bloody survive without it?”

“It wasn’t what I meant!” Arno snapped, defense kicking in as it did just a few hours earlier.

“Oh, so saying I would be better off with ‘an ounce of sense’ isn’t what you meant?”

“Am I wrong?”

“Fucking unbelievable.”

“Now you know how I feel with you!” Arno finally unstuck his feet, brain muddled as he kicked off his shoes and stormed off to their bedroom. The bed wasn’t made and it only served to faintly set off the bells in Arno’s mind to get pissed again, but mostly he was trying to mask his hurt that he was going to bed alone.

It was stupid, so stupid, and Arno only wanted to go back in time and hit himself to stop himself from bringing it up. 

The door opened after a time Arno couldn’t figure out, but he heard Jacob softly enter and stop a few feet from the bed.

“You asleep?”

“Not at all.” Arno whispered, and after a few seconds of delay Jacob got into the bed as well, slow but deliberate as he came up behind Arno and wrapped an arm around his waist loosely.

“You still upset?”

“Yes. But… I’m sorry I took it out on you. I just saw the mess and got… Pissed.”

Jacob sighed. “I’m sorry I let it get bad. I got back from work and just wanted to sit for a bit.”

“So did I.”

“Your work is what’s fucking killing you. You’ve never done that before.”

“Jacob-” He tensed, but the other man continued, running his fingers through Arno’s hair. It was getting tangled, a result of stressed pulling and forgetting to take care of himself.

“Just answer me this. If you don’t like it -- and I know you don’t, cause I’ve heard you complaining to Elise when you think I’m not listening -- then why are you staying there?”

Arno thought a long time about what he wanted to say.

“What I’m making, you don’t… It’s what you don’t have to worry about. You don’t have to go out and get another job, or get more hours. It gives you something nice if I-”

“You’re telling me you’re working fucking forty-eight hours a week, with extra work at home that you like to do ‘for fun’ off the books, so that you think I’ll stay?”

There was silence, and Jacob tightened his grip around Arno’s waist to pull him back.

“You’re a fucking idiot. I’d rather you be home before dinner and be happy with me than out there and making yourself miserable.”

The tension started to leave Arno’s shoulders as he leaned back into his boyfriend.

“Jacob-”

“We don’t have to talk too much about it yet. Just… please. I mean it.”

Arno went silent again, feeling his mouth begin to twitch and eyes sting with tears. He swallowed and nodded a bit. His hand went down and rested over Jacob’s, intertwining their fingers.

“Jacob.”

“Hmm?”

“Truth or dare.”

It had been a while, and he almost thought Jacob wouldn’t answer, but he did anyway.

“Truth.”

“You still love me?”

Jacob nuzzled Arno’s neck before speaking.

“Never think I’ll stop.”

Arno felt if he tried to laugh in relief it’d turn into a sob, so he just kept quiet and tightened his grip on Jacob.

Things weren’t solved immediately. But for now… They were good. And they were in bed together, just together. That was enough for the night.

---------------

“You should’ve seen the other guy. He started it.”

“As you say.” Arno shook his head with a smile, fingers intertwined with Jacob’s as they walked together. It had been a few months since their talk, and for the first time in close to a year, Arno felt lighter, like he wasn’t dreading waking up tomorrow.

There had been a long discussion about what they were doing, their feelings about everything, and it boiled down to being able to find a better balance than they originally had. Arno agreed to take fewer hours or at least find a way to condense his workload, and Jacob would work to help out more at his job and around their place. It had taken some time, but they were better now, Arno thought. And there were times now, like with Jacob talking animatedly about how he had narrowly avoided the fistfight that had led to them skipping out the bar and coming to the park instead, that he liked to think Jacob thought so as well.

“It’s getting warmer.” Arno spoke genially as they continued to walk, after Jacob had stopped his tale of glory, and Jacob made a noise of vague agreement.

“‘Bout time. Way too cold even for winter.”

“You like winter.”

“I like some parts of winter. Like the holidays and all that. But even I get to a point where it overstays its welcome. Besides, you got all the flowers out blooming.” Jacob pointed over where some newly planted tulips were beginning to sprout.

Arno felt his heart speed up for an unknown reason. Whether it was in the way Jacob admired a few flowers, or in how his hand tightened around Arno’s as he began to talk about all his plans for summer -- their plans for summer --, or the way the box in his coat pocket began to feel ever heavier than usual, that it left Arno’s mouth before he could stop.

“Truth or dare.”

“Seriously? Here?”

“It’s a real question.”

“Y’know what? I haven’t done dare in a while. Let’s go with that.”

Arno stopped them both and took a breath, hand slowly sliding into his coat and pulling the velvet box out. A million thoughts ran through his head as he shakily kneeled down, but looking up into Jacob’s wide eyes silenced them all until he spoke again.

“Marry me.”

---------------

The wedding ended up a lovely summer affair. Elise was only a bit upset that she couldn’t be Arno’s best woman in the way Evie was for Jacob, though Ezio ended up being pretty good about it and had people both laughing and sniffing by the end of his speech.

And all because of some stupid game, Ezio had been sure to mention at some point, and Arno and Jacob just shared some sort of smile at it.

And now here they were.

Arno woke up on top of Jacob, sprawled out in the huge hotel bed. The other was beginning to wake up as well, and they both smiled as their eyes met.

“Good morning, Mr. Dorian-Frye.”

“Good morning indeed.” Jacob rolled them over and Arno’s small yelp of protest at the action was silenced as Jacob began to kiss him in earnest, still smiling into it. They pulled apart eventually and Arno laughed.

“Not even letting me brush my teeth.”

“That doesn’t exactly matter right now.” Jacob tried to mouth lower at Arno’s neck, and Arno let him for a while before squirming.

“Call for the food first. Then you can continue making a mess of me.” Jacob pouted, and Arno smirked. “It’s not that bad. We do have all week, you know. Can’t spend all of it in a hotel room.”

“Just watch me.” Jacob challenged, but let Arno up anyway to stretch and get out of the bed and pull on loose sweat pants to cover himself up. Jacob had less grace and got out to simply pull on some boxers before calling it a day and going over to the Frenchman. He hugged him from behind, and Arno blushed, a smile still present on his face that threatened to stay there forever.

“Hey, Arno.”

“I’ll take waffles with fruit and cream, thanks.”

Jacob laughed, letting it take over before he calmed down enough to speak again.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“You ever been happier?”

“Never.”

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I hope you enjoy! If you do I have a Masterpost here and more ideas for writings and prompts here, so feel free to request!  If you’d like to support me, I have a ko-fi here! Safety and peace!

#assassin's creed #arno dorian #jacob frye #arno x jacob #french fryes #my writings