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psalacanthea · 2 years

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WiP Wednesday

Thank you @oxygenforthewicked for the tag, here is some defacing of public property for the Hawke and Varric fic (located here).

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“I don’t think Varric will be surprised,” Merrill said.

Hawke glanced back at her, lowering her hand from her blade. “What?”

“Well, when they put it in, after the ceremony he said, ‘she’s going to hate it’,” Merrill said.

Isabela’s smile widened, and she glanced sidelong at Merrill with a slight shake of her head.

Well aware she was being manipulated, Hawke looked back at the statue. Her heart melted, just a little. Oh, that bastard. He’d built the stupid thing knowing she would have absolutely detested the fact that it existed. How fucking petty. Damn it, she really loved the hell out of Varric.

Best best friend a girl could ask for.

“Okay, the stupid thing can stay,” she sighed.

It was weird looking up into her own face, especially her own face but slightly wrong. It wasn’t the worst statue she’d ever seen, that honor belonged to a cross-eyed Andraste with a pug nose, but it also wasn’t the most accurate depiction of her face. Maybe it was the night-time shadows that made it look so odd. Whatever it was, this Hawke wasn’t her.

But maybe it was an okay depiction of the Hawke other people thought she was.

Even so…she should try to make it a little more real.

Reaching into her satchel, she pulled out the pot of kaddis she’d gotten out of her cache and headed to the side of the road. There had been a drizzly evening’s rain before nightfall, and a few puddles still remained. Well aware of the curious eyes on her, she uncorked the ceramic pot.

“Hawke?” Merrill asked.

“Just a second. It needs to be fixed. Just a little Lowtown water…”

Awkwardly she scooped a little dirty rainwater into her palm, drizzling it into the pot as it trickled between her fingers. Sticking in a fingertip, she mixed it up, rising back to her feet. Pleased with herself, she rubbed her scarlet fingers together.

“There we go.”

“You realize there’s probably piss in there,” Isabela said, amusement clear. “And worse.”

“That just makes it extra Kirkwall,” Hawke said cheerfully. With the kaddis in one hand, she mounted the stone plinth and started scaling her bronze doppelganger. A boot on the knee too vault up, and then she caught her own outstretched arm and dangled for a second. A foot off her ribcage, and then her tit, and she managed to swing up on to the arm, perching there. “Am I seriously less than thirty feet tall? How disappointing.”

“Might want to hurry, before a guard finds us.”

“Hawke’s wearing a mask, they won’t recognize her,” Merrill said to Isa, laughter in her voice.

“Well yes, kitten, but defacing a statue is a crime.”

“Even if it’s a statue of yourself? That doesn’t seem fair.”

“I’m making it more accurate, not defacing it!” Hawke declared, dipping her fingers into the kaddis again. Leaning over, she swiped it across the bridge of the statue’s nose, leaving a startling scarlet smear across the bronze.

With a flourish, she tugged down her half-mask and did the same to herself, drawing it across to her cheekbone.

Hawke slung her arm around her statue’s neck, leaning against the cold metal.

“What do you think? Just a couple of Ferelden bitches!”

#wip wednesday #hawke x varric #Isabela #Merrill #Meribela

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kassarts · 1 year

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Sketching Merrill as a warmup <3

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cuntstable · 2 years

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shipping dragon age characters together is pointless bc those games are just glorified dating sims for YOU the player. but even after all these years isabela/merrill and morrigan/leliana are still so good and awesome pairings actually. the only dragon age ships that matter, everything else is irrelevant

#meribela so real always but even now years later thinking about leliana and morrigan makes me have a thought and maybe even a feeling #dragon age

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panigamermauser · 7 months

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Because I cannot think of only my current playthrough, all future PTs eat my mind (and I'm stuck at mechanic because my car's engine light went on, so I literally have nothing better to do atm).

Like, I'm not even sure if my next run will be Astarion or Durge, and both are already planned on what I'm going to do on them pretty comprehensively.

So now I am already thinking of other origins PTs. Mostly in terms of romances, because by now I am pretty set on main story preferences in general.

So, when I play Lae and Shafowheart, they are soulmates and together forever. Literally cannot even romance them on Tav because of it. In my head they are always a couple, even on Tavs/Durge/other origins.

This is a fucking meribela situation all over again. When I ship romanceable companions so hard I cannot romance them on player char (which makes BG3 win here, because I can play as them, so I still can experience both romances without breaking headcanons).

On Karlach run I'm going for Wyll. And Karlach on Wyll's run. They have so much going on, both in backstory and in ending. Feels like a natural fit.

But with Gale's run... It is in my top3 priority for next playthroughs because of Tara. But I have no idea who will Gale go for. There's no 'obvious' choice in my head(like with wyllstarion, wyllach and laeheart), and I do not want to push my preferences onto an origin character.

Karlach maybe? 🤔 As in chest bomb buddies to lovers? And it will fit with Gale (as a companion) being reluctant about physical intimacy before his bomb is stabilized, as you cannot be physically intimate with Karlach before Act2 anyways.

Or Halsin exclusive(Gale's not poly, so I won't even consider non-exclusive), because druid school of magic intrigues him 🤔 And again, Halsin does not even flirt before Act2, so it would work with Gale's situation.

Both Shadowheart and Wyll have nice slowburns too that would work, but my love for laeheart would cockblock him with Shadowheart, and I cannot remember any background banter of him being interested in Wyll, or Wyll being into Gale (if there is, show me!). So it would just be me deciding, instead of making sense for a character.

Minthara would be very intriguing, their grudges against goddesses who used and abused them, and all that. But I have no idea if modded-in Minthara can be romanced, and I have no intention of killing tieflings ever, so... 🤷🏼‍♀️

#baldur's gate 3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #mausertalks #companion romances musings

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tea42 · 1 year

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Dragon Age Thoughts: Character names in DA2

Here are some uncommon things I haven’t seen pointed out yet and/or haven’t written about before:

Word plays:

Gamlen- has a gambling addiction (really bioware, really?)

Cullen- votes for ‘cullin’ the mages’ (really bioware, really?)

Raleigh Samson-’ Rallies’ Templars and even Tranquil in DAI; obvious parallels with the biblical Samson loosing his strength with lyrium instead of his hair because of love (letters)

Possible hidden meanings:

Malcolm, Hawke, and Amell - meanings: Dove, Hawke and Eagle; I’m not convinced this one is on purpose, but there sure is a lot of bird symbolism and imagery in every DA game and two of your companions in DA2 dress in feathers

Bethany- mean ‘house of affliction’ and as magic was seen as an affliction on the Amell house I can’t help but think this was on purpose

For you Meribela fans- Merrill means ‘shining sea or joyful’ so of course the pirate would take a shine to her

#dragon age thoughts #da2

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mabaris · 2 months

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jenny by studio killers is such a meribela song

#listen. this post is 10 years late bc SURELY someone else has said this by now #mine

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adrawatcher · 2 years

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fenders or meribela for the ship card

Fenders

Don't have the energy for my full rant right now but tl;dr is, canon did them inconsistent and most of their disagreement not evolving over /years/ was bad writing for both of them. Therefore I need to make a better version in my head, and they may as well kiss too as a treat to myself.

Meribela

I guess I could have also put free space for them, I want them to have pirate adventures together.

#i speak because i can

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sorokah · 2 years

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Idk quick meribela doodle

#dragon age 2 #meribela #merrill #isabela #full version @ sorokahs twitter

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askweisswolf · 2 years

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Merida, watching the news: Someone tried to fight a squid at the aquarium today! Isabela: walks in covered with ink Well, maybe the squid was being a dick.

#meribela #Isabela Madrigal #Merida #brave #encanto #incorrect quotes #there we go #and yes I 100% believe Isabela would fistfight anything she felt was insulting her #honestly so would Merida but this time she just wasn't there #we stan two gfs who get into fights because they're feral #anyway I'm still in this corner #help me I'm plotting fic

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ocean-in-my-rebel-soul · 3 years

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“I thought you didn’t want me.” for Meribela?

Thanks for the prompt!...that I'm filling six months later... Welp, better late than never! I don't write these two much, so here's hoping it works!

@dadrunkwriting

Merrill x Isabela

Rated: G

Tags: angst, immediately after the Arishok duel, iffy coping mechanisms

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Smoke still lingers, heavy and soggy like a wet blanket dragged over Kirkwall's buildings and stairs as Merrill slogs her way back to the alienage. Blood still pools in the streets from the Arishok's assault on the city. Creators, everything in her aches, something bone-deep and exhausted; too many people needed help, and she needed something to pull her mind from the battle at the Viscount's Keep, so she exhausted her healer's kit and her remaining strength stitching up every wound she found.

Bela had come this close to dying; Merrill knows she'll be out of town on the first ship she can find. Hawke had almost died trying to save her, and it's still touch-and-go whether or not they'll survive their wounds. Merrill's mishmash little family is trying to shrink again. Maybe it's the way of her life, that she is to lose everyone she loves. The thought settles like rancid halla milk in her belly and raises her hackles with what promises to be another dry-heave.

She stumbles on the final stair into the alienage. Lancing pain shoots up her legs when Merrill falls to her knees. "Fenedhis—I'll fall and break my neck at this rate." She rubs her knuckles into her eyes for a moment before heaving herself to her feet.

"Careful there, kitten, careful." Warm hands land at Merrill's shoulders when she sways unevenly. "Looks like a stiff breeze could knock you over."

Merrill glares at the ground. "Thanks," she says, clipped, and shakes herself from Bela's grip. Merrill crosses her arms over her balled fists and stalks off toward her little cottage.

"Kitten, wait."

Merrill speeds up into a half-jog across the broken cobblestones. Bela swears and her jewelry chimes together discordantly as she follows. The cottage is a scant hundred feet away, and Merrill breaks into a run. Her heart bolts rabbit-fast in her ears.

"I just want to talk!"

Merrill flings herself at the door. There hadn't been enough time to lock it earlier in the afternoon when the Qunari had attacked, and in Mythal's mercy, it is in remarkable shape. The door groans as Merrill barrels inside, torn askew on its hinges in the assault, and it sticks in the frame when she slams it shut behind her.

Bela pounds on the other side a second after Merrill throws the latch and locks the door. "Merrill, come on—let me in!"

"I don't want to talk to you!" she yells back. Tears sting her eyes, and Merrill roughly wipes them away on her knuckles. Her nails bite half-moons into the heels of her palms. "Go away!"

A thud hits the door, followed by a long slide. Bela sighs. "I know I messed up, Merrill," she says. "And I—I've thought about it. A lot. You and Hawke must have... must have rubbed off on me or something. So I came back."

Another thump on the door, lower now—Bela slumps against the door and bangs her head lightly on the wood. She's staying, for now.

It hits Merrill dully, from a distance. Her own legs shake and she catches herself on the door. Sliding to the dusty floor, she lands hard, legs splaying before her.

"You made me feel like you didn't want me."

The tears come down in earnest. Merrill tips her head back and lets them drip down her cheeks. "You—you left that night. You've talked about returning to the sea and taking me with you, and you left me here." Her voice warbles and she wipes angrily at her face again. "I said I loved you, Bela, and I woke up alone."

Long fingers inch into the gap under the too-short door. They quest and find Merrill's hip, pet awkwardly at the hem of her shirt. "I know. I spent a long time ignoring it. And then a long time thinking about it."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"No, I—" Bela knocks her head against the door again and curses a low streak. She sniffs roughly. "Merrill—oh Maker's taint, I'm not crying, for fuck's sake," she mutters to herself, so quiet that Merrill only just catches it. "Get it together."

Bela sighs. "I couldn't stop thinking about it, you know, once I started. Feelings are dumb, kitten, and here I am, having them. You know, this morning I wasn't sure what would be worse: having to face the Qunari and return the stupid tome, damn the consequences, or having to do all that and then face you," she says with an incredulous snort.

"People died because of them," Merrill mutters. Because of you, she doesn't say, because Bela knows that already and it's not helpful to bring it up right now. Bela can talk about that with someone else. Merrill is too tired to do it. She wipes her eyes and draws her knees to her chest, bends down enough to rest her head on them. "What do you really want, Bela?"

Silence meets her question. Merrill gnashes her teeth. "At least do me the kindness of answering me," she calls through the door.

"Believe me, kitten, I'm trying," Bela grunts. The door thumps again. "What—" She cuts off on a cough, clears her throat, and tries again. "Do I still... Is this still safe harbor?"

"Safe harbor," Merrill murmured. Her hand found Bela's and she laced their fingers together. Bela blinked, almost like she was surprised, but surely she knew, right? Merrill had said it in all the ways she knew how—murmured against her skin in the night, woven in the living shield Merrill casts in battle to protect her back, hammered into the fine edge of the dagger she'd saved for over most of a year to have commissioned for Bela's last birthday. Tonight she whispered it into Bela's heart, skin sweat-slick and chest heaving, feverish. "Ar lath ma, Bela, ma vhenan. You always have a home with me."

Bela smiled. "C'mere, kitten," she said, and she pulled Merrill into a bruising kiss, her trembling hand wandering down Merrill's ribs and over her belly with a singular purpose.

And then Merrill woke up alone.

"I want to come home, Merrill. If you'll let me." A beat. "If you'll have me."

"Bela—"

"I know I'm bad at this, kitten. I know. And I want to try anyway. For you. For our misfit family."

Merrill knocks her forehead on her knees and squeezes her eyes shut. "And I'm just—I—Creators, Bela! What am I supposed to do?"

"Let me in so I can apologize properly, I hope. It's dark and fucking cold." She falls silent. "I really am sorry, Merrill, and I want to make it better."

Something twists in Merrill's gut, wounded and hurting and full of aching rage. She drags in a shaking breath. "You'll have to talk to the others," Merrill says. "You'll have to, you'll have to apologize, and explain, and all that. And you'll have to ask them for forgiveness, too, especially Hawke, and maybe they'll all be nice and give it to you. Then maybe..." Merrill sniffs and wipes her face on her trousers. "Then maybe you can ask me for forgiveness, too. Later."

"...that's fair," Bela sighs. She thumps her head on the door again. "Really screwed everyone over, didn't I?"

Merrill unfolds herself and stands up with a groan, wobbles against the door. She scrapes her nails down the wood. "You'll need to talk about that with all of them. I'm—I'm going to bed."

She gets a step away before she turns back, some needy thing scraping at the inside of her ribcage, and yanks open the door. Bela scrambles to her feet; she barely has time to protest before Merrill's got her hand wrapped around Bela's wrist and pulls her, hard, into the cottage. Merrill kicks the door shut behind them and leans back against it, tugging Bela to follow until her arms bracket Merrill in.

There's no doubt as to what this is. Surely Bela knows. Surely Bela understands. Merrill can't say it any plainer, not again.

"I thought you said you're going to bed."

"I am. We are. If you want."

Bela searches her face. "It's not this easy," she whispers, her brows pinching lightly in confusion.

"No," Merrill says. She reaches up to cup Bela's cheek, rubs her thumb along the edge of her bottom lip. "But it has been a long, terrifying day, and I'm tired, and I—" her voice warbles again "—I've missed you so very much."

Relieved warmth pools in Bela's gaze when it flicks to Merrill's lips. "I've missed you, too, kitten." She dips her head and gently, more than Merrill expects, presses their mouths together.

She sighs into it and lets her hands fall to the neckline of Bela's tunic, curling into the fabric and anchoring her pirate queen to her. "If you stay, we're going to have to talk about all of this in the morning," Merrill murmurs.

Another wave of tears threatens to fall. If.

She shakes her head against the thought and winds her arms around Bela's neck. Her heart hammers in her chest, breaking it open; Merrill has to hold it together, smother everything down against the lean lines of Bela's body to keep her heart from pelting into Bela's hands again.

"I know."

It's not fair that Bela could just leave like that, before. That Merrill wants her anyway, now. Bela trails kisses along the edge of her jaw, nudges her into tipping back enough that she can trail her lips down the sensitive skin just below her ear. Her laughter ghosts over Merrill's skin when she can't help the shudder that trembles through her.

It's not fair. Bela was gone for months, and Merrill loves her just as much now as then, even though it burns.

She closes her eyes at the frisson of selfish want that bolts through her. I know, Bela says, and Merrill desperately wants to believe.

But Bela always told her she's too trusting, too open-hearted, and where has that gotten Merrill so far? Empty-handed, empty-hearted, and lonely.

Merrill drags in a shuddering breath. The morning will come soon enough, and she can't waste any more time worrying about the inevitability of Bela's coming departure.

"Take me to bed," she whispers, and she lets herself be hauled off, curled tight into Bela's embrace, unable to let her go for even a moment.

She’s survived the dawn of every morning before. She will survive it again.

#da drunk writing circle #Merrill #Isabela #Meribela #prompt fill #ocean writes #dragon age 2 #da2

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gracedrawsstuff · 3 years

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Some twitter sketches for Dragon Age Day 2020! I love these games so much and the got me through some hard times!

#dragon age day #dragon age 2 #dragon age inquisition #fan art #BioWare #isabela dragon age #merrill dragon age #iron bull #the iron bull #blackwall #merribela #meribela #dragon age

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psalacanthea · 2 years

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In-Progress Fic Master Post

Currently Written Ships:

Dragon Age- Solavellan, Tabris x Mahariel x Zevran, Nathaniel Howe x Cousland, Hawke x Varric

Baldur’s Gate 3- Astarion x Tav (Zynatheri), Gale x Tav (Zynatheri)

Willing to Write Ships:

Pretty much all BG3/DA with no gender bias, provided there’s an OC involved. Polyshipper, prefer OT3 dynamics to polycule (it just gets complicated to write! I’m pro-polycule, just won’t write it b/c I put WAY too much thought into relationship dynamics). Canon char x canon char doesn’t really scratch my writing itch, but I’ll do small one-offs of them every now and again. Esp Meribela.

Current Fics:

Baldur’s Gate 3

Dissonance and Debauchery: The Drama of an Ill-Fated Bard

Timeframe: During Canon

Ship: Astarion x Zynatheri (Tav)

Status: On Hiatus (waiting for game release; this sucker ain’t done)

Ending: ???

Kinks Rating: Low currently, but will be high, will be edited with warnings when appropriate

Romance: Reluctant, Non-Monogamous, Extremely Messy

Dragon Age

Reforged in Dragon’s Fire

Timeframe: During Canon (Dragon Age Awakening)

Ship: Nathaniel Howe x F!Cousland

Status: Updating

Ending: Happy

Kinks Rating: Low

Romance: Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Antagonistic Banter and a few Stupid Misunderstandings, medium-mild angst

When the World Fell

Timeframe: Post-Post Apocalyptic, post-Canon, Time Travel

Ship: F!Lavellan x Solas

Status: Updating Very Slowly

Ending: Bittersweet

Kinks Rating: Low

Romance: Massively Slow Burn, Painful, High Angst, Hopeful but Melancholy

Anarchy in Denerim

Timeframe: Modern AU, DAO

Ship: F!Mahariel x M!Tabris x Zevran

Status: Updating slowly

Ending: Happy

Kinks Rating: Mid

Romance: Complicated but Stable, Realistically Messy but still Happily Ever After

#fic master post #in-progress fics #yeah I don't care that there's a lot of them #I used to force myself to finish one fic at a time and it was stressful #now I just follow my heart #or my proverbial dick #either way

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lesetoilesfous · 3 years

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aaaaahhh True Love kiss for merribela please?!! ;-;

(If you’d like me to write you a dragon age fic, send me a prompt from here!)

@dadrunkwriting

Pairing: Isabela/Merrill

Characters: Isabela, Merrill

Tags: pirates and archaeologists AU, what even is canon, temporary character death, fluff

Rating: Mature

Isabela does not believe in true love. She does not believe in curses, or prophecies, or whatever other bullshit this blighted temple is trying to sell her. She doesn’t. She is a hardened pirate with a heart as bloody as her conscience and that’s the simple, honest, messy reality of it. And so what if the elf who’d led her crew down to this bloody island was unconscious on the blighted altar? That was her own blighted fault for being too curious for her own bloody good and -

“Blood and ashes.” Isabela snarls, turning away from the altar and the unconscious (not dead, she hasn’t checked her pulse yet, she could be unconscious. Never mind the part of Isabela that knows exactly what a dead body looks like. Never mind that she hasn’t seen her chest moving. Never mind that she’s been watching for it.) Instead, Isabela whirls on her crew, who are standing at the base of the steps staring up and past her at the small, broken elvhen body on the altar behind her with something like loss. Isabela throws one of her daggers into the nearest wall with enough force to maker her arm hurt. It doesn’t help. “Whose blighted idea was it to come and investigate the famously cursed ruins of Seheron anyway?”

One of her crew - Roger - opens his mouth. Isabela’s next dagger goes flying past his ear. “Don’t.”

Well aware that she’s stomping, and trying to ignore the half forgotten voice of her mother at the back of her head telling her not to, Isabela looks around at the mighty, vine-ridden marble ruins of this strange, blighted, cursed fucking place. (At everything other than the unconscious - dead - elvhen apostate on the altar behind her, surrounded by strange silver mirrors.)

“I didn’t ask for this!” Isabela rails at the darkness, and her voice bounces off the beautifully arching marble rafters. “I didn’t want this.” She breathes, and her chest heaves with it, and her lungs ache, and the air is thick with the scent of the jungle and Isabela’s eyes are burning and damn it all to the blighted void. When she blinks again, tears fall unbidden, hot and stinging down her cheeks. “I didn’t ask for her.” She strides to one end of the platform and shoves a thousand year old clay vase down the steps, and feels a vicious stab of satisfaction even as the voice of the strange elf rings in her head. (“I’ve never seen anything like this!!! Oh, creators, these artefacts are priceless. Isabela, thank you!!”)

Instead Isabela marches down the steps, down into the salty water where the beach has begun to encroach upon the ruins, hacking and slashing at everything she can see as she draws two more knives from her boots. “I didn’t ask her to do this! I wasn’t looking for this! I didn’t - I didn’t - I don’t -,” Isabela stops, breathless, pressing her head against some ancient marble pillar and telling herself she isn’t sobbing.

Not so far away, there’s the singing crash of the sea. One of the sailors speaks up, quietly, breaking the silence of the temple. “Captain-”

Isabela’s hands curl in a fistful of vines wrapping around the column, and she bites down on the inside of her cheek. “Sod it.”

Then she turns, and runs, through the salt water and up the steps, and she catches the cold (too cold, what if she’s too late?), tattooed face of the strange Dalish elf who’d commissioned Isabela and her crew for this impossible expedition. Isabela looks down at Merrill, and tries to ignore the way her tears are falling onto her cheeks, and whispers, “You’d better be right about this, kitten.”

Then she bends down, and kisses her.

For a moment nothing happens. Merrill’s lips are cold and stiff in death, and her body doesn’t move. Isabela’s hands feel petrified in place, caught cradling her head. She feels something inside her snap, even as her body curls forward with a great, wrenching sob.

Then there’s a sound, like the inverse of a thunderclap, and every mirror around the altar flashes with the light of the sun. Isabela hears her crew shouting, feels the vibration of the altar beneath her and a lightning crack as the stone is severed from the earth and brought into the air. She feels her hair lifting off her back, and her feet drifting above the stone as if she were floating in water. She clutches Merrill’s body closer, tightly, wrapping herself around it as she squeezes her eyes shut, and the sound builds to a fever pitch.

What happens next is disjointed. There’s an explosion, but it’s silent. The altar shatters. Isabela and Merrill fall through the air towards the podium. The light goes out. Isabela curls around Merrill’s body and braces for impact.

But the impact never comes. Instead, the two of them fall softly into an impossible meadow, which rushes like the ocean down over the ruins, bursting with life. And at the centre of it all, surrounded by a soft green glow like a late summer afternoon, against Isabela’s chest Merrill gasps.

Slowly, kitten-like, she blinks up at Isabela. “Oh, hello captain. Are we hugging now?”

Isabela isn’t sure whether the sound she makes is a laugh or a sob. It doesn’t matter. She kisses her. Beneath her hands, she feels Merrill’s face burn with heat as she flushes, but when Isabela goes to pull back, Merrill wraps her arms around Isabela’s back and pulls her closer. Isabela laughs into their kiss. “Don’t ever do that again, kitten.”

Lips wet with kissing, eyes bright and cheeks flushed, Merrill grins up at Isabela in the dark between their faces. “I was right though, wasn’t I?”

Isabela denies it for the rest of their natural lives. Merrill knows.

#dadwc #meribela #da2 #merrill #isabela #my fic #gingergreencoffee

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