#valorant ot3

[brewing-radianite]

it's been a while and i miss them so it's tired parent trio ot3 hc's time:

-after they begin to date sage gets into the habit of kissing bandaged wounds, sometimes. it's a little embarrassing but if she's feeling particularly sentimental, then that wrist cast or bandaged cheek is getting a little kiss.

-brimstone used to cook for his firehouse homies so he does manage breakfast Sometimes but particularly enjoys cooking for sage (who is very thankful) and viper (who is very pissy before her coffee, and in general, to be fair)

-every little cuddle session turns into a deep talk and vent session that turns into a group nap session. there is a 70% chance brimstone awakens to sage and viper cuddled to his (huge) chest (boobs) and a 30% chance sage awakens to someone playing with her hair

-sage is literally the only one remotely capable of gracefully leaving the bed in the morning without waking the others. brimstone is built like a truck and viper groans and fusses too much. if either leave the bed before ling it *always* wakes her up (and she prefers this, so she can kiss them before they go)

-Sage steals their clothes and plays it off. Viper will be frantically looking for a sweater to find Ling has styled it over a blouse with the collar out and a long skirt.

"... Is that my sweater?"

Sage, knowing very well it is, and simply shrugging before continuing on to a meeting as they pass in the hall: "Is it? I hadn't noticed."

yes she did.

-Viper literally only smiles in the company of these two (plus omen, sometimes sova)

-Sage can be a little cold, not always on purpose. She's a work-driven person, takes responsibility seriously, so sometimes she does prioritize work and productivity > pleasantries and softness. She wants to be someone everyone can rely on, and does have a handful of soft sides and habits (lets other sleep on her shoulders for 1, absolute foodie for 2,) but the fear of failure and losing a teammate can keep her pretty... Rigid, at times.

-Liam and Sabine help melt that rigidness away.

-Brimstone really wants to quite literally sweep them off their feet and carry them around sometimes but :( too many eyes and ears around base. it'd come off as unprofessional, and he isn't crazy about that sort of attention anyway

-a little obsessed with holding them in private though

-#1 best nap pillows: Sage's stomach

-#2 best nap pillows: Sage's lap

-#3 best nap pillows: Brimmy Boobs. do not ask me to elaborate

#sage #brimstone #viper #tired parent trio #macch headcanons #valorant #ot3 #riot games #sage valorant #valorant viper #viper valorant #brimstone valorant #valorant brimstone

[hvstias]

yoru, talking about jett and phoenix: i’ve been giving them subtle hints that i like them

yoru, walking over to jett n phoenix: i can’t fucking stand you

#source: tumblr #valorant incorrect quotes #ot3 #jettyoruphoenix #jett #yoru #phoenix #they're a throuple ur honor

[purgatorical]

Hi I got over a fresh wave of feeling cringe so here’s Phoenix, Yoru, and Taxike doing cute things while Chamber and Sage watch on lovingly. Really :)

#art #my art #im not gonna tag as the usual yoru/phoenix ship name but i will make my own ot3 tag name so enjoy #TaxYoruNix #or #Team Attractive Heat Demon #Taxike is a magnetic radiant yoru is demon inspired and surprise surprise phoenix is fire related #my valorant fanart #valorant yoru #valorant phoenix #my valorant oc #pencil and paper #paper and pencil #i have a running gag in my comics where chamber witnesses taxyorunix relationship stuff and just gets +1 over and over

[kkrazy256]

v..... valorant? for the fandoms ask game? no pressure of course lol

favorite character: Omen, my favorite spooky ghost boy oh my GOD I need more of his lore right now. hand it over. least favorite character: noo i don't dislike any of them personality-wise. But if we're talking about GAMEPLAY then I'm sorry astra you're the only one I can't figure out the abilities of. I'm always getting knifed in astral form because I can't figure out where to put my stars fast enough akjfhja brOTP: Fade and Cypher. Yoru and Phoenix OTP: Cyphmen, I think ghostwire is such a cool name for them. Nanobomb is also cute as hell <3 OT3: Sage Viper and Brim. The old exasperated parents. NOTP: I don't think Omen and Viper were romantically involved so I personally wouldn't ship them at least. favorite storyline: I'm just going to talk about which cinematics I liked best. I think the newest one with Reyna Neon KJ was cool as hell. Really enjoyed the training one too, it felt very real with all their interactions. least favorite storyline: I guess the earlier cinematics weren't as flashy, but that doesn't mean they weren't cool. what I wish had happened but didn’t: I just want to see Omen in a cinematic, please spare crumbs of omen please- what happened that I wish hadn’t: oh chamber's whole kit. really wish that didn't exist JKAHFLKWH I'm glad he was nerfed at least.

#answered

[purgartical]

There’s a “draw your ot3” thing going around on Twitter and I only had thoughts of Chamber, Reyna, and my valorant oc Goggles.

Reference v

#art #my art #my valorant fanart #valorant chamber #valorant Reyna #my valorant oc #valorant goggles #chamberreynagoggles #chamreygles #?? idk man I think I gave them a ship name and I forgot what it was

[flooficandii]

*makes the agents fraternize*

#valorant #reyge #firestorm #yorunix #nanobomb #the jett/yoru/phoenix ot3 in general

[atypicalacademic]

Of Her Kind

Dragon Age

Words: 570

Rahvi Brosca x Gaadha Mahariel x Leliana (like, in the background)

Warnings: references to alcohol, violence, physical abuse, starvation.

*

The rusted gates swung with a glower of the guards’ eyes- averted now, begrudgingly, when Rahvi threw an answering glance over her shoulder. Cracked-tile gave way to raw rock, and the jagged craters lining the sides of the streets like her scars lined Ravhi’s skin. A young woman, face done-up and hair braided, scurried out of one of the moss-eaten ruins, her faux-silk skirts pitched up just as Rica had once held hers in the vain hope it wouldn’t trail the dust.

She nearly dropped them when she froze, catching Rahvi’s gaze, calculating the weight of her coin-purse and the strength of her armor, the familiar grey eye that stared back at her, opening and closing her mouth with a muted nod of part-apology, part-recognition, before she hurried away.

The rest were hiding, she knew, hiding as they did when the Commons were a-stir, when the nobles’ frustration spilled from the Quarter to the streets and they took to Dust Town for a punching-bag alive enough to wail, sick enough to die without fighting back.

She’d almost forgotten what hunger smelt like.

She shifted the weight of the eyes on her back, dragging her feet with enough noise so they knew they could show if they wanted, hide if they needed. Fresh blood-splatters marred the writing on the dilapidated walls, the same cry for uprising she’d ignored ‘til it boiled inside of her at the Proving that began and ended everything.

For it had a smell- empty bile and fevered flesh, lichen hacked up from stomachs too burnt to hold it, a cloud of warmth as quietly familiar as her mother’s hot tears and her liquor-soaked breath, sooty fingers pressing black trails down Rahvi’s bruised cheek as she rubbed, and rubbed, and-

It was her mother’s scent, and her own behind her armor, her sister’s beneath her silk, Leske’s behind his quicksilver smile, deeper than blood and sweat and tears and time.

(And Ancestors, she’d known, as she’d tried to drown it in ale and blood and someone else’s mouth on hers. Too late, as it’d seeped into her when she was born, as whole and heavy as the rune branded into her bronze skin and the cleaved socket behind her eyepatch.)

And now it’d taken her as any sickness would, hadn’t it? The kind that made her want to turn around and hack at the Commons with her maul until the stone shattered, until their bones shattered, until every golden rock framing every Paragon salted the earth beneath her feet, gold good enough to make up for her full belly and her scavenged armor that still gleamed and the maul she’d bought with coin ripped off the pockets of looters, still worth a month’s wage that Beraht spared her, that Jarvia had her kneeling and bleeding like a surfacer's war-hound for.

If this was what knowing better felt like, she didn’t sodding ask for it.

Leliana’s eyes followed the brand patterned on to the skin of a beggar- fainted or dead, crushed beneath someone else's boot over the piss-sodden, vomit-soaked stone, all the way to the one against Rahvi’s bronze skin. Gaadha’s gloved fingers brushed against her clenched fists, curling gently around her wrist.

But it was Alistair who spoke, cutting through the silence.

“So this place is..”

His voice was soft, gentled with understanding, and the uptick of a question didn’t ask for an answer.

By the Stone, she’d say it anyway.

“Home.”

#drabble?? #more likely than u think #rahvi brosca #gaadha mahariel #leliana #paragon of her kind #dragon age #brosca #abuse cw #alcohol cw #just to be safe ig #a hundred songs of valor #ot3: a song of valor

[meltangospelhour]

It's a nice day and I'm like "I feel a new ot3 coming on." Could never feel Blanche x Spark x Candela. But Candela x Sierra x Arlo? That kinda almost butters my gosh darned beans. I also like the thought of Blanche x Candela x Arlo, even if Arlo would probably fight Blanche...

#pokemon go #leader candela #leader sierra #leader arlo #team go rocket #team valor #ot3 #leave me be please #let me have this #they are all so hot and i just cant

[faorism]

needing the au to drop wherein i can commit to writing a historical au,, because since i first watched the db cooper job my mind went straight to OT3! OT3! OT3! (unlike with the van gogh job, since i aint playing with that fucking lieutenant)

one day maybe one dayyyyy i will sit down and i will write the ot3 into that episode's story. so, it'll be the backgrounds for the characters in the flashback (so, stephanie ritter, steve reynolds, and reggie wilkins), but with the necessary personality adjustments (parker, eliot, and hardison respectively). basically, vintage ot3 with some hot as hell aesthetics and secrets and avoiding as much as possible producing copraganda.

so. my thoughts. what i see happening. and this got super long so im throwing this under a cut. and for ease i will call them by their modern day canon names except when making a point.

first, general thoughts about the characters.

and so: steve to eliot. nothing much here on the surface. eliot still volunteers, too much an indoctrinated white man to have been forcibly drafted. so its still one man gone to war. one man come back. eliot would had been noticed early in training for his ability to pick shit up, and they teased at maybe sending him to a special unit. maybe they do, or maybe they don't because they just need to funnel fuckers to the jungle. the vietnam invasion was a terrorist imperialist venture and there's no romanticizing from me about anything done being at all valorous or special or brother-in-arms'y. and eliot commits war crimes under the american stars and stripes instead of just to keep moreau's champaign running. but also maybe moreau is eliot's superior. he certainly would have been rewarded for this ruthlessness. (eliot of course strove to impress moreau because there aint an eliot spencer who wasn't that man's dog at some point, i!!!! dont make the rules). eliot's friend died and eliot's gone off to carry out his wishes and moreau lets him because he Knows eliot is gonna come back. whether its to come back to the same squad, or follow him into deeper spy shit for the military, or to fuck off and go private. then eliot meets parker.

now. stephanie to parker. beth plays normal so well im mad at her, but there's something edgy and strategic about stephanie that i think parker can grab onto. i feel that maybe she was kind of a thief still, but there's more realism to this world so archie wasnt a super secret spy with lasers to practice with, but just a guy with sticky fingers whos a little bored and wants a protege. parker is good really good at what she does, and not having to deal with lasers makes me easy. but she's into scams that are less grifts and more Catch Me If You Can slight of hands. she's always looking for easy money (she was into lifting cars at one point! literally she follows where the crime is). she's doing something in an airport and someone tries to recruit her as a flight attendant because she's got the Look. and yall, flight attendants? that shit was like being a model and an astronaut and a time traveler back then. and according to a teacher i had, who once worked as in the f.a. union, those ladies back in the day were rad and queer and free spirited and runnnnning shit. i think, yes, it's a Job which i think we might resist placing parker into. but! of the jobs, at the time, i really see her rocking it during the time period. (also come on, the opportunities to swindle distracted people of their shit would be endless. they would just think they dropped their stuff in the airport! not that it was stolen.)

finally, reggie to alec. i think hardison will be the hardest to translate. even tho i admittedly listen to a lot of true crime podcasts, i dont know much about fbi life and also definitely don't know about it historically. part of me desperately wants to put him somewhere else even if it does have to stay within the fbi. i might cheat and make him like a Q(uartermaster) to 007/00s like in james bond, and he's like UGH this is horrible god i hate working for the fbi but they will give me funding so...... anyway, here's this totally cool [radio term]. that said, if hardison is stuck in the fbi, why he ends up there is that he is a fucking savant when it comes to research and the man can put together a presentation like no one else. that white man gets all the credit for profiling but it was hardison who goddamn was the google of the microfilm days. reggie felt super square but that might be because he had to deal with mcsweeties db cooper shit day in and day out for years. hardison is more himself. and definitely still a nerd. alec would be into dime fantasy novels and comics and ham radios and oh god he also would be into star trek like the original star trek as it came out and he would be into the zines yes! yessss. omg. also he plays a mean arcade cabinet. but he's mostly well adjusted but lonely. his colleagues dont appreciate him because fbi esp during that time were fucking wilding out and racist as hell aaaaaand im sorry im srry im trying so hard to have fbi hardison make sense but also! acab. ANYWAY.

second, the relationship

i think it would be fun to play with what it means to have parker/eliot start off first and bring in hardison afterwards. (if white collar is your thing, it would be like this canon divergent ot3 fic wherein peter burke is the last to join in.) i feel they would be Super Intense esp since they are carrying this big ass secret. kind of broken and dysfunctional and there's the passion and the commitment, but i think there's also a tenderness that's super hard for them to achieve? and i think there's a way that hardison plays such an important part in who they are and how they are. like, sure i think parker/eliot would have joy but they won't have levity. they would have compassion but they won't have gentleness.

eliot meets hardison after being recruited by nate. i think they get close because while nate and eliot have an interesting and compelling mentorship/friendship, nate is still eliots superior; sometimes its nice to complain about your boss, as hardison will say to eliot to try to make friends. i think hardison and eliot would become legit friends and not just work buddies because they are just not cut out of the same cloth as the rest of their colleagues. they grab beers after work. after hard days, hardison cajoles eliot into going to the arcade. they are friends. real real truly deep best friends, in a way hardison didn't think he could have with a fed and eliot didnt think he would have after his friend died. but also? they are like "buds" who are buds who are desperately tryna to cross any lines because there's a.... tension? an UST between them they dont know what to do with.

parker meets eliot by way of a "lets have my friend for dinner, he's a blast." and immediately immediately hardison is like... wow this woman is beautiful but like, really attracted to her personality. and parker things hardison is kinda dorky but cute dorkie? anyway, they have a puppy love situation growing. and it keeps growing until bam. eliot and parker are like. are we into alec???? fuck we are aren't we.

i think stephanie and steve would never tell reggie (even if somehow they were to be a thing). but parker and eliot? hell yeah they tell hardison. eventually. after a while. sooner than maybe they should. the tension if they should say something is one of the things that build up as UST between them for so long; parker and eliot know they are carrying this huge thing. two huge things. eliot being db cooper and also their massive crush on him.

if i could control myself to stick to a pwp, it would be another christmas. maybe the christmas nine (more?) years down the road. the damn snow grounded hardison's flight back to his nana's, and parker and eliot hear this and invite him over. the egg nog gets flowing and parker eventually is like,, fuck this. and comes onto hardison. and hardison would be like wow wow what but... idk, free love and swinging were In The Thoughts And Minds Of The People. he still checks in with eliot who is like. her body, man; i aint gonna tell her what to do. and for a sec hardison is like, man is this a cuck situation? i guess i can be for it but also...... aint mad if i aint alone. and eliot is so grateful and idk. i just want them all to be happy and having fun and no one to be left out. and yeah i am kinda brushing over a lot of the racial politics which, in a more developed fic rather than a pwp, would definitely need to be brought in; but idk that needs to just be in the bedrock of whatever plot is going into this.

it takes a lot of maneuvering of their lives but they make it work and eventually hardison is a keeper of eliot's secret too.

(apart from the historical aspect, another reason i probably won't actually write this is because i know myself. i would want to do worldbuilding. i would follow eliot and alec to their jobs, but i wouldnt want to write outright copaganda. the grit/realism i would be comfortable with would take a level of research i dont think i can commit to. but if someone wants to take this up or if you figure out a way around this issue, pls do i wont be mad)

#eliot spencer #parker leverage #alec hardison #leverage #thiefsome #okay i srsly am not this active but this week got me wanting to talk and talk about these three beauties #the db cooper job

[elfyourmother]

👀

This is actually from an FFXII fic I started a while back and poked at a little and swore I was finally going to finish this year and...lol. But it’s Balthier/Fran/Ashe, my OT3 of OT3s from that game~

---

“Tsk tsk. Palace security has gotten awfully lax, don’t you think?”

A familiar voice startled Ashe from her brooding reverie, rich as velvet; she froze, her heart pounding as she closed her eyes, fearful that she had simply imagined it, out of longing. Then a second voice followed, every bit as familiar as the first, light and no less lovely for its sharply accented Common.

“We ought to have a word with the guard."

“Well, I shall leave them a stern letter of disapproval…after we kidnap the queen. Must remember our priorities.”

“Of course. I’ll turn you in for the reward then, and keep her for myself.”

“Fran!" 

Ashe could not help the quiet laughter that rose up from her at their jesting; it filled her with warmth, bringing to mind the old days on the Strahl. It was then that she knew it was no hopeless delusion born of her pangs of longing. Turning away slowly from the railing, Ashe opened her eyes to see them: Balthier and Fran, casually leaning against the doorframe. Fran was all lithe viera elegance, tall and gracefully limbed, sheathed as always in leather and gauzy lace which left bare a great deal of her flawless dark skin. And Balthier, only slightly shorter, wore his favored leather trousers, and the finest Archadian silks, as immaculate coifed and groomed as always. The dashing pair were every bit as beautiful as Ashe remembered; perhaps more so, now that they were no longer merely a memory. A lump formed, unbidden, in her throat.

“Your majesty,” Balthier said. He swept into a bow as graceful as any royal courtier, but gazed up at her and winked as he held it, before raising up with that impish grin that she’d seen a thousand times in her dreams, and feared she would never see again.

A dam within Ashe burst, opening the floodgates of emotion so long suppressed; wordlessly, she crossed the short distance between them, and clung to him, weeping into his shoulder with little heed for propriety—or for the tears which stained his vest of fine silk brocade.

“Now, now. Don’t be so thrilled to see me,” Balthier gently teased her, his soft voice like velvet to her ears. But she felt his arms wrap tightly about her, returning the embrace warmly, and he held her as she wept. It was soothing.

“I thought I watched you die,” Ashe whispered. “I could not bear it. I’ve tried.”

Ashe felt a warm, slender hand upon her shoulder then, one far softer. “I’m sorry. Everything happened so quickly. We thought only of the city,” Fran said.

“What happened? Why—?” Ashe began, but Balthier pulled away from her then, reaching into his pocket for a fine linen handkerchief, and offered it to her. As she dabbed at her swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks, she caught him at a glance, gently shaking his head.

“Not here,” he said quietly.

Ashe stared at him, her head tilted in confusion. “Why did you come, this night, and in such secrecy? You'll always be welcome here. You acquitted yourselves with valor, sky pirates or no.”

“The chains of command are heavy, aren’t they?” Balthier asked. “We merely thought to free you of them, if only for a night.”

“You wish me to leave?” Ashe blinked, her confusion no less great. “I cannot simply just—”

“Why not? The moon needs no minding,” Fran said.

Balthier strode with purpose toward the large double doors which marked the entrance to the queen’s apartments. “Come, Ashe. The night grows short and the Strahl awaits. You can afford to be spirited away for a few hours.”

So many protests came to Ashe’s mind, that this was ridiculously impractical, that a queen couldn’t be so flighty as to fly off on a whim, that if the guard discovered she were missing the whole of the palace would be roused—

When Balthier turned toward her then, with an outstretched arm, and beckoned to her with ring-covered fingers, all of those perfectly logical objections flew out of her head.

#wips #i hadn't written anything with these three in years but it was like I'd never stopped #rodeomp3 #ask bisho

[brewing-radianite]

I think it's very important to highlight that Viper hates to smile or laugh around the others so she rarely does but Brim and Sage are the only people who can make her + Sage who is a mature and controlled individual that seldom lets intense emotion even of joy overcome her so she rarely laughs but Brim and Viper make her + Brim who is swamped in work and tired after what feels like endless years of being in the business of life or death work and babysitting the younger agents and just needs a nice long nap but being with Sage and Viper makes him laugh and smile so much he feels young again

#sage #brimstone #viper #valorant #tired parent trio #my ot3 is back you heard that rigjt #right #riot games

[hvstias]

sage: i need your help with something.

viper: why are you calling me? why aren’t you calling reyna?

sage: because if reyna came here she would've killed somebody.

viper: and I wouldn’t?

#valorant incorrect quotes #viper #sage #ot3?? maybe idk I'm a multishipper everything is possible wkfkkef

[gh0sthoodie]

M, P, W?

M: favorite fan art or fanartist: oh man I don’t think I have a favorite. Good Omens fandom always delivers tho

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom: Leverage Fantasy/DND AU Y’ALL! The team is already optimized like a DND party:

Eliot is the tank (probably a fighter. He doesn’t like weapons but he’s too beefy for a monk)

Hardison is the utility caster (that Intelligence score and versatility says Wizard)

Parker is the rogue (duh)

Sophie is the face (a glamour bard, natch)

Tara is also the face, but tougher (swashbuckler or valor bard)

Nate is some sort of non-melee skill monkey (mostly bard, with some rogue in there for flavor)

W - 5 favorite characters from 5 different fandoms: favorites are hard but here’s five I’m really feeling today

Crowley (Good Omens)

Beauregard (Critical Role C2)

Parker (Leverage) (but actually the whole OT3)

Duck Newton (TAZ: Amnesty)

Tiffany Aching (Discworld )

#ask meme

[chibiwriter]

Thoughts on Candela x Amelie? >u>

Three words: lesbian power couple.

Can you imagine?! Candela has the upfront connections while Amelie works in the background. Together, they crush the competition and put an air-tight bubble around the people they want to protect. Don’t piss either of them off because I can guarantee that if one can’t undo you, the other can and will ruin anything you had going right in your life 

On the one hand I imagine them being somewhat discrete - they couldn’t really go public if they’re working on opposite sides, after all, and it might spell disaster for their business plans if their sponsors/partners found out they were seeing each other. And yet, on the other hand, I could totally see Candela flaunting Amelie as her beautiful girlfriend and Amelie having an entire folder devoted to snapshots of Candela sleeping (for both blackmail and the fact she’s secretly a sap) or working out or in general being devastatingly gorgeous. 

Spa days are common and dates are romantic and plentiful and they buy each other little gifts. Candela likes to lavish attention on her things, yeah? So hers are often jewelry and clothing and and other pretty things while Amelie’s tend to be far more practical but no less sentimental. High heels are unanimously deemed the most appropriate gift for any occasion. 

Moltres likes Amelie because she’s sassy and she makes Candela happy. It also is fond of her because she has red hair - they’re notoriously feisty, right? Could see a nickname being ‘little flame’ or ‘little Rocket’.

I also enjoy the idea of Candela purposefully making out with Amelie when she knows Noire will walk in on them. (I’m not saying they fool around on their desk but I’m also not saying Noire hasn’t found it messier than they remember it being a few times.)

#inquisitorfarnese #ask #reply #Pokemon Go #And The World Will Turn to Ash AU #Team Valor #Candela #Team Rocket #Amelie #okay but what about these two and Annie like that would be the ULTIMATE OT3 tbh #Candela just wants to steal the twins' assistants that's all nothing to see here

[flooficandii]

yoru jett and phoenix r rly taking up my whole heart rn

#valorant #ot3 #theyr all bi and dating eachother #jett #yoru #phoenix

[atypicalacademic]

Lullaby

DRAGON AGE

(A/N: The scared child spirit at the Werewolf's Lair gave me emotions.)

Words: 1k

Leliana x Gaadha Mahariel x Rahvi Brosca

*

She neither sings nor speaks as she once did, but oh, when she does.

*

“Gaadha!”

Too late.

Rahvi could only look on as the elf chased the pale green wisp of the spirit, dust and fog and a wail trapped in the air that smelt of blood and rotting stone. Nimble enough, she was, making off sure-footed as Stone- if anything else sinister lay forsaken in this bloody cave, Gaadha’s light footsteps were unlikely to awaken them.

She exchanged a cursory glance with Leliana, who followed close at her heels, double daggers unsheathed and stained with spider-venom and skeleton dust. The spirit’s cries rose in pitch and alarm, ringing off the walls as they spiraled through the empty chamber.

They found Gaadha at the bottom of the crumbling staircase, kneeling before the ghost, her fiery eyes peering intently into what Rahvi could only assume was their face. Up close, with the light filtering through the cracks in the ceiling- the buttery kind of yellow she’d come to recognize as early daylight- the spirit’s contours coalesced into a form. Squinting, she could make out their tiny silouhette, thin arms and legs wrapped around themself, cowering from the light even as they leaned into it. Long, pointed ears, and a scraggly mop of hair. A child.

She was- speaking to them. Knees against the dirt, she’d relaxed her bow over her shoulder, arrows rustling in her quiver. Gaadha lilted softly through the sounds of her own language like the wind whispering through the trees.

Leliana opened her mouth to question, but Gaadha looked up at the sound of their footsteps, a finger to her lips in warning. Rahvi clenched her jaw, leaning against the wall as far away as she could. Quietly, Leliana sheathed her dagger, and padded over to kneel beside her, lingering behind the spirit. Gaadha caught her gaze for a moment, light amber eyes into sparkling blue, before she closed her palms around the spirit’s outstretched one.

The ghost lingered near Gaadha, their breath hitching in small, frightened sobs, folding their green aura over her deep brown skin as though they wanted to be held.

Rahvi’s chest tightened, but she could not look away.

They needed to keep moving, but she couldn’t bring her limbs to force themselves forward.

Have you heard her sing? Back at the Dalish camp, Mithra had wondered aloud.

Sing? Barely heard her talk.

Not for you, then, outsider. Her voice has been blessed by the Creators.

And it was. It was.

It cut through the dark like a sliver of light, like the first shiver of fire in the metal lantern that had hung outside the Commons, the last thing that had once guided her way back home, the cool, crushing sting of salve on wound, back- way back- when she was young enough to be cared for, Rica’s hand slipping into hers, pulling her away from the angry, jagged rocks lining Dust Town’s broken roads.

It was not loud, it did not ring across the hall or seal a wound shut. But it was enough.

Rahvi watched as the spirit’s weeping subsided into small, trembling sounds of misery, and then to silence. She watched Leliana mouth quietly along the words, clever eyes wide and shining,

The ghost-child dissolved into thin air, slipping from Gaadha’s tenuous grasp. She sighed, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. More tears fell, streaking through the dust tracks on her inked brown skin.

Rahvi held her silence, afraid to say the wrong thing.

“I- sorry.” Gaadha sniffed. “I couldn’t let them- they were so scared. They call for their mother. For their friends.”

“It was kind of you.” Leliana laid one rosy hand over Gaadha’s back, the other plucking a cobweb from her black hair. Rahvi startled, feeling the warmth of that touch against her own skin..“You gave them rest, didn’t you?”

Gaadha shook her head. “Not for long. The spirit is the imprint of their fear. It will stay. Return. I couldn’t-“ She took a deep, stuttering breath. “These ruins. I couldn’t-“ She looked as though she was about to cry again, but she swallowed hard, wilting like she’d exhausted all her words again.

“It makes a difference still. A world of it.” Leliana sounded the way she did when she’d sat by the fireside that first night at camp, speaking of her Maker’s world and flowers. It made Rahvi ache, that kind of hope, it made her want to pull her off that precipice so she wouldn’t cut her own heart on it.

Gaadha smiled slightly, distantly transfixed on where the spirit had been, seeing something beyond them. Slowly, tentatively, Leliana laid her head on her shoulder, and wrapped an arm around her waist, brightening a little when Gaadha did not pull away.

By the Stone, there was a word for this, wasn’t there? A word for that smile, for that voice, for the brimming warmth in Leliana’s eyes, for the kindness of that touch, for the way it twisted Rahvi up in some new way, not pain but not so far from it, either-

Beautiful.

She’d heard it murmured in malice and greed, heard it spat at her sister like a leer, heard it said about a block of gold or or the right shade of ale or the tinkle of good coin on the counter, but that was hardly what it meant, now, was it?

Beautiful. Maybe that’s why this feeling sat all wrong in her heart, and she hardly knew what to do with it, how it rolled down her chest to settle in her belly like a pool of pebbles.

That was it, then. They were beautiful.

A rattle of armor snapped the moment like a wishbone. Rahvi knew the weight of the boots that came to a halt behind her. Alistair.

“What’s happening here- Maker’s breath, would you look at that?”

Rahvi fixed him with a look, a thick brow raised in question.

“You, Warden Brosca. You’re smiling.”

Was she?

She wiped it off her mouth with the back of her hand to save it. “What’s it to you?” She said gruffly, not waiting for him to put his smart mouth to use.

“Alright.” She cracked her neck, rolling her shoulders back, stocky muscles shifting beneath her brown skin as she stalked ahead. “Buckle up, salroka, we haven’t seen the last of this place yet.”

#dragon age #dao #leliana #warden mahariel #warden brosca #rahvi brosca #gaadha mahariel #i was writing starfire and got this baby fic idea and I needed to write it #owo #im love polycule #ot3: a song of valor #basically that gaadha spoke no more than necessary for a while after tamlen died :/ #she was the clan's storyteller and her music was buried by her guilt #cococs