#you did a cracking fucking job sera
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Distrust Fall:
A leap of faith gone wrong, an eternal promise kept eternally. No matter how long it has been some things never truly change.
Notes
How to fail a trust fall: Step one
Vaggie's relationship with Adam is very complicated, but at the moment there is a lot of animosity and it shows.
Adam is of the opinion that Sorry doesn’t mean jack shit if you make the mistake again, so he just doesn’t apologise because he thinks he’ll just fuck up again so there’s no point.
The hotel needs a licensed therapist at this point dear lord.
Alastor still isn’t over the whole “Radio is fucking dead” thing.
If there is one thing that Adam knows off by heart, it’s the names of animals scientific or otherwise. That was the guys job once upon a time and assuming he doesn’t know that stuff is the true quickest way to piss him off. He’s also really good with animals which pisses off Anthony because Fat Nuggets *likes* Adam and it drives the sinner up a wall.
Alastor and Lucifer are on the ground. Angel, Husk, Charlie, Vaggie, and Adam are on the roof.
Alastor was going to let him get a cm from the ground before catching him dw.
Lucifer used to be friends with Adam in the garden because I live for that sweet sweet friends to enemies tragedy.
Adam really does not like people staring at his face, it’s a mild form of scopophobia caused by his time in heaven with people always giving him shit for how he looked, particularly his facial features (Yes I drew on everyone calling him ugly and average on twitter and shit). He used the mask to get around it, that way people couldn’t actually see what he looked like.
This was originally 1260 but then I got an idea that blew this out by 500 words lol.
The graveyard with be elaborated on in a future connected one shot.
This is officially a fully fledged AU
Regarding Adam's claws, they're gold to combat the greyness of his palette, but also as a nod to Midas, the arrogant king who's touched turned everything to gold. Angelic blood is also gold so if you want you can interpret it as having blood on his hands.
Fingerless gloves because I thing they're neat.
I based Lucifer's wings off of duck wings!
Also Lucifer's angelic appearance was based on space. I heard Sera call Charlie "Daughter of the Morning Star" and I went feral.
He has a full shifting night sky in his wings, clothes, and hat.
Angels have white pupils now I don't make the rules.
References saved my life.
Word count: 1725
(Comic and fic under the cut! Click for better quality)
@irregular-child
Adam leaned away from the edge as the wind drifted through his wings, keenly aware of the fact that his wings wouldn’t break his fall and he did not in fact trust jack shit in hell to break it except the ground.
“Are we sure this is a good idea?”
“I’m with princess perfect this is a fucking death sentence,” Adam agreed, a little reluctantly because it was still the princess of hell, “You’re trying to fucking kill me.”
Vaggie smirked, because of course she did because she was trying to kill him, he wasn’t that dense, and just shrugged, “I mean, worked for me didn’t it?”
“That wasn’t even a fucking trust fall that was to get you to fucking fly and you know it! Fucking bitch,” The first man scowled and tried to step away from the edge, the crack whore of an arachnid immediately shoving him back up, “Would you fuck off?!”
“Would you stop being a dick?”
“Would you stop sucking them?”
The white jumping spider stared at him for a long moment and Vaggie stepped away from him for once, great! Cool! One person was leaving him alone and soon a second one will!
Great! About fucking time they got the message-
-------]
Lucifer paced nervously around Dazzle’s statue; this was a terrible idea. Having Adam go through a trust fall this early was going to end in disaster one way or another.
The main issue being nobody liked Adam and wouldn’t care if he fell. Hell, Charlies girlfriend has already tried to kill Adam off for good multiple times since he got here!
This was going to be a mess; Alastor was supposed to be catching Adam but he was just standing there looking completely unprepared and-
“Are you going to get ready or not.” Lucifer snapped at the radio demon, wings flicking out behind him in agitation.
“Oh, I have no intention of catching him.”
Lucifer froze, his tail stilling before lashing behind him as he turned on the deer-eared sinner, “What.”
“You heard me.”
“Oh, I heard you alright, and I think you should try that again.”
“And why are you getting so worked up, hm?” The sinner hummed, sneering down at the king, “Last I checked, the first man was your enemy after he tried to kill your own daughter.”
“I-” Lucifer paused, then scowled because Alastor was right. Why was he getting so worked up over this. This was Adam they were talking about. Adam who was crass and rude and cold to everyone. Adam, who would rather sit in his room all day than even look at any of them. Adam who was…
“…Luci, do they all hate me?”
…
“I can see why they left me for you.”
…
“It is good to see you again my friend! Come, much has changed since your last visit!”
… Adam who was so much more than who he was now. Who was probably the only person left in hell that remembered Eden.
Damnit.
“That’s none of your business you son of a bitch,” The fallen angel snapped at the cannibal, eliciting nothing more than a growing grin from the bastard.
Not a day went by in hell where Lucifer wished that this wasn’t his circus and that the sinners weren’t his monkeys.
Someone screamed above him.
The seraphim whipped his head up, eyes widening as he registered Adam twisting the air as he was shoved off the roof by Angel Dust.
Fear struck his heart like an exorcists blade when the first man tried to use his wings to glide, only for a single wing beat to send him into a spiral hurtling towards the ground.
He caught Adams eye for a single moment before it was obscured by his good wing, the man was terrified. He didn’t know sinners reformed after death and despite it all. Lucifer would never wish someone to experience falling from their death after quite literally falling from heaven.
Not even on Adam.
Something in his heart spurred the king into action, kicking off the ground as his wings snapped open to catch the air. A single beat of his wings and he was already well off the ground.
Lucifer reached a hand up for Adam as the fallen angel reached out to him in kind, panic written across both their faces at the idea of a horrible accident.
Lucifer’s wings moved the air one more time and-
“And… you will catch me?”
Lucifer laughed softly, a gentle chiming sound from where he stood behind Gods first man. He was trying to show him a game Lucifer and his kin would play from time to time amongst the spires of heaven.
The game was simple, one angel was to stand up high with their wings folded and fall. Then the other angel was to catch them. It was supposed to build trust, not to mention it was a delight in and of itself.
Standing amongst the grasses of Eden, Lucifer saw no reason not to share this game with Adam. He’s already grown fond of the way that Gods creation would go out of his way to show the angel what he’d been up to since his last visit.
“Be not afraid my friend!” Lucifer’s wings spread quietly to punctuate his point, divine magic threading his words, The Voice ensuring that the first man would hear and believe him.
“No matter how far you fall, I shall always be there to catch you.”
Lucifer wrapped his arms securely around the fallen angel as his wings curled around wing and man alike, bracing himself as the added weight as they both fell together.
It’s funny, it reminded him of when Adam first fell, a fiery ball that could have almost been mistaken as a shooting star had Lucifer not known better.
They hid the ground with a slam and the fallen seraphim had to bite back a shriek as his wings took the brunt of the force. They’d be left aching for a while.
Lucifer grunted as he pushed Adam off of him, sitting up and folding his wings in, allowing them to slip out of existence while they healed, he definitely didn’t want to do that again.
He slowly got to his feet while the first man got his bearings, dusting himself off and rubbing his shoulders to try and alleviate the pain.
“Why the fuck did you save me?”
Lucifer jerked and looked down at Adam from where he was glaring up at him, a note of confusion held carefully in his gaze before it dropped.
“I-”
“Well, isn’t this quite a surprise!”
Lucifer’s expression shot into a scowl as he rounded on the radio demon very blatantly interrupting the moment. The bastard just grinned and stared down at the both of them.
From the corner of his eyes Lucifer noted Adam’s good wing hitching up instinctively to cover his face from the demons gaze before dropping.
Lucifer turned his attention back to the radio demon with a glare that could melt steel, “You were going to let him fall,”
“I was going to do no such thing,”
“You just said-!”
“I said nothing you just assumed I was going to do nothing at all!”
“Listen here you!” Lucifer was just off again by the main doors opening and the other’s all barrelling out at the commotion.
Lost in the sudden onslaught of attention and having to field Alastor’s snarky comments, Anthony’s suggestive remarks, and Charlie’s concern, he didn’t see Adam flee the scene.
It wasn’t until much later that he was able to recognize the first man’s absence, searching the hotel to see if Adam was okay.
He found him at the graveyard, sitting among the many tombstones for the exorcists slain in the battle that caused Adam to fall.
Lucifer paused at the entrance to the burial ground, watching Adam sit there facing away from him for what felt like an eternity.
Despite the dead being gone, the king of hell still felt like the exorcists weapons were pointed at him, a warning that if he made one wrong move they would rise from their graves to protect their leader, to avenge him, to strike Lucifer down in an instant.
The once-angel of the morning star carefully stepped away from the cemetery, making sure he didn’t break the silence. Even if Adam wanted to be disturbed, he wasn’t the right person to do it, not in this place.
Besides, he still had his own thoughts to sort through, like why in the name of the divine he saved Adam when he would have survived regardless. He would have been fine even if he did hit the ground unimpeded so why-
Lucifer grimaced as the answer stuck to him like a parasite, he knew damn well why he saved him. It was the same stupid reason he preened Adams wings for him, the same reason he treats the first man’s wing rot and the exact same reason he made that deal with Adam after he fell.
He was attached.
Stupids horribly foolishly, Lucifer still cared for Adam even after everything.
By the stars he beat Adam within an inch of his life! Adam tried to kill his daughter!
But emotions were hardly logical. They weren’t logical when he fell for Lilith in the garden and taught her and Adam both The Voice, they weren’t logical when he freed Eve, and they weren’t logical now.
Lucifer cared for Adam, even if by all logic he should hate the man.
“Dad?”
Lucifer looked up to meet his daughters eyes, a small smile letting her know he was okay, “Hey there Duckie.”
Charlie’s expression softened at the nickname even if he still looked concerned, “Dad… are you sure you’re okay?”
“If I’m not now, I will be, so stop worrying about little old me Char-char,” Lucifer chuckled, “However… Adams in the graveyard if you want to talk to him, he seems like he needs some company right now.”
He made his exit quickly after that, he knew what Charlie would do, it was in her nature to help people, it was what made her so special.
But Lucifer, he helped people once, and now… he had a new person he could help again.
And he might just know where to start.
#hazbin hotel#adam hazbin hotel#angst#writing#hazbin hotel adam#fluff#worldbuilding#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin charlie#charlie morningstar#fallen angel adam#hazbin hotel angel dust#fallen angel#angel dust#vaggie#vaggie hazbin hotel#this is why i don't draw comics#i always have to render it fully#my art#adamsapple#lucifer x adam#adam x lucifer#guitarduck#ashes to ashes dust to dust
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Heavens Disdane
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Rating: T
Pairing(s): Chaggie
Some how Drade allowed Charlie to talk her into staying back while she went to convince heaven of her plan. Charlie wanted a chance to convince heaven on her own as the hotel was her idea...unfortunately the court meeting hadn't gone well.
"Wait! We're not alone anymore! And I... I shoulda listened! Drade! Please...help..." Charlie whimpered with a sniffle, nearly inaudible towards the end. The young hellion had hit her knees upon Adam’s reveal of Vaggie and the declaration of Sera that she’d not provided significant enough proof of souls being capable of redemption from hell.
"What the fuck are you whining about!? Agh!" Adam began only to recoil as a glowing portal appeared causing a chill to run through the room.
Through the portals glowing purple light stepped the elegant form of Drade, clad in her new outfit and a pair of leathery wings tucked behind her. Sera's eyes landed on the scale emblems etched into the golden shoulder plates immediately growing wide with realization.
"Hmm, I see heaven hasn't changed. Smells the same too," Drade huffed, looking around the court room as the portal closed behind her.
"Who the fuck is this bitch!?" Adam exclaimed gesturing with both hands towards Drade.
"You came...I... wasn’t sure you would..." Charlie stammered, look up in awe at Drade as tears streamed down her cheeks.
"Of course, you called...I came," Drade smiled warmly at Charlie, taking a knee in front of her. Gently the red head cupped Charlie’s cheek, using her thumb to swipe away the tears.
"At least I can count on someone," Charlie responded shooting a disapproving glance to Vaggie that resulted in a curious eyebrow raise from Drade moments before assisting Charlie in standing up.
"Hey! Did you hear me? Who the fuck...!?" Adam began when Sera cut him off.
"ENOUGH! Thats enough, before you get us all killed. My lady, excuse the belligerence," Sera barked, flashing her angelic form momentarily before settling to turn to Drade with a bow.
“Humph, glad to see heaven hasn’t changed,” Drade huffed again, folding her arms lightly over her chest.
“I’m afraid I know not what you mean,” Sera stated in a meek tone.
“Don’t bullshit me, I was here when everything went to shit the first time around and now heaven has the gall to cause even more chaos while blaming it on others. Typical,” Drade retorted with an angry glare at the seraphim in front of her.
“How dare you! I won’t stand by while you spew blasphemous venom about heaven!” Lute chimed in from the side lines drawing Drade’s attention in her direction.
“Lute! DON’T!” Sera’s warning came too late as the Exterminator flew towards Drade armed with nothing but her fists.
Drade’s expression hardened into a cold, unimpressed one towards the swiftly approaching angel. Drade’s large leathery wings stretched out behind her revealing the insides to be a creamy white color that dripped into chocolate brown with blackened fingers, a single wing beat sent a shockwave straight into Lute causing her to exclaim in surprise as she was hurdled backwards into the wall across the room. A gasp radiated through the room, mingling with the cracking of the wall and Lutes pained sounds as she slid down the wall to the ground. Drade released a huff while tucking her wings back behind herself.
“Heaven just never listens,” Drade quietly stated sending a chill through the entire room once more.
“You’re the Gallow walker…aren’t you?” Sera hesitantly wondered, fear lacing her tone.
“That I am, which means it is my job now to maintain the balance of the scales. Heaven has severely tipped the scales away from earth and hell and I seek to reestablish that balance,” Drade announced to the room, holding a handout with her palm up causing a pair of golden scales to appear through a purple swirling aura. A scale holding the earth along with another holding a brimstone orb were lifted towards a third scale holding a light blue orb with swirling clouds.
“So, you side with hell,” Sera concluded allowing a small amount of disapproval to leak through into her tone.
“No, I’m working to reestablish balance. The exterminations have resulted in a level of power that has tipped the balance too far towards heaven. Thus, should Adam and Lute come to hell in a month’s time I WILL stand with Charlie and Lucifer Morningstar to defend the Hazbin Hotel as well as Hell itself,” Drade corrected firmly.
“Very well, dully noted,” Sera quietly accepted.
“Also let it be known that should Adam, Lute and their exorcist set foot in hell it will be a declaration of war,” Drade warned, eyes narrowing as a menacing aura surrounded her.
The room fell instantly silent while Drade held her ground for a moment making certain to sternly drive home her declaration before turning with the wave of a hand to reopen her portal. Ushering Charlie and Vaggie towards the glowing circle Drade silently stepped through with them promptly leaving the befuddled angels to argue amongst themselves about the implications of what they’ve rout upon themselves.
#Hazbin Hotel#Hazbin Hotel Fanfiction#Fanfiction#Chaggie#Charlie Morningstar#Vaggie#Emily#Sera#Original Female Character#OC#Angst#Drama#Humor
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Off the Hook
7 years ago…
"You can't be serious. I'm not going to do that."
The twenty year old Miqo'te hiding in the cramped closet of her mark's bedroom put her fingers to her linkpearl and gave the voice on the other end an incredulous frown they could not see.
"The deal was I steal for you, not that I maim anyone. First of all, that's fucked up. Second of all, not my skillset. Send someone else, Red Moon."
Meanwhile, her as of yet untortured mark continued playing the violin. That was, of course, what she was known for. Malika's understanding had been that she'd steal the priceless, one of a kind instrument as a form of professional sabotage for Red Moon's shitty client. At no point had there been discussion about breaking her fingers.
"The client has updated their expectations," the deep, no nonsense voice of Malika's crime lord boss stated. "As well as the pay."
"I don't care about the pay–" Malika began to protest.
"I do." There was a warning in his voice that the young Keeper knew not to challenge. She was silent for a moment and for that moment the only thing that could be heard was the beautiful, haunting sound of the violin.
Malika knew not to challenge the man. She'd suffered the consequences for that in the past and was not keen to be on the receiving end of his anger ever again. A wise person might have kept quiet and let it go.
Wisdom was not her strong suit.
"I don't do this kind of work," she whispered, her distress evident in the way she clearly and urgently enunciated each word. "I will be caught. You're wasting a perfectly good thief!"
"My perfectly good thief," he answered quietly and with a gentleness she knew to be artificial, "the waste will be if you continue to defy me. Do as you're told."
She bristled.
4 years prior she'd run away from The Nameless Caravan and swore she'd never be beholden to anyone ever again.
Now, here she was trapped in service to a greedy, violent, dangerous crime lord who got off on telling her to do what she was told. It was as though she'd never even left the Caravan in the first place– apart from the fact that Red Moon was generous enough to pay her for the abuse.
This is temporary, she told herself as she took a deep breath in preparation. The plan is already in place. You're getting out of this. You're going to be fine. And you'll never ever ever do a job you don't want to do ever again. Just… just do this thing…
Red Moon would stay on the line. He'd want to hear it happen rather than wait for her to call back. That was just the sort of sick fuck he was. So there'd be no chance to talk to this woman. No explaining anything. Just sudden violence and the cracking of bones.
Not my thing. Malika could feel the panic attack starting to form in her chest as she grappled with the weight of going against her 16 year old self's promise not to do anything she didn't want to ever again. There was no time for that.
"Fine," she said on the line.
Nymeia, I'm sorry. If you have one more miracle left for me, I could really use it…
Three…
Malika pressed her shoulder against the closet door.
Two…
She turned the handle and readied herself to slam the door open and rush her victim.
O–
The music stopped. Malika stopped, too.
"What's happening?" Red Moon demanded.
Malika didn't answer. She didn't know. And with the music stopped it was too risky to speak.
"Sera, I can't do this. I don't want to do this. Something feels off. Something feels wrong. No. No, not with the piece. With this– this whole thing. Everything. Give the solo to Tali. It'd mean the world to her. And I just don't want to do this anymore. I'm quitting. I'm done."
"What the–?" It was extremely unusual for Red Moon to express surprise. "Lia, did you do this? Explain yourself."
"I didn't do shit," she hissed back.
The linkpearl conversation became too faint to hear. She'd moved to another room. Malika cracked open the closet door to see the violin resting on the bed. Seconds later the front door opened and closed. A quick glance out the window showed the owner of the violin leaving the house.
"Shit. She just left, boss. Without her violin."
Silence. The kind of silence that indicated that Red Moon was not pleased, but that he couldn't think of a reason to take it out on her.
"Grab it," he finally said with a sigh. "Bring me the violin. You're off the hook for the rest."
He could probably feel the radiance of Malika's relieved grin from over the linkpearl.
"This time," he warned. "Don't expect to be so lucky in the future."
Unfortunately for him, she did expect to be that lucky in the future. If there had been any doubt that the goddess of luck was on her side prior to this moment, there wasn't any longer.
Three weeks later a series of extremely fortunate events would free her from her contract with Red Moon without repercussion. Moving forward, she'd keep her promise to herself and never again work for anyone she didn't choose to work for and she'd never take jobs she didn't choose to take.
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word search game!!
YAY IT'S MY FAVORITE MEME. Thank you @theluckywizard for the tag! The words she gave me to search my fics for are CRACK, GRAZE, and HARSH.
Crack: From one of my Kirkwall Kops (Cullen & Samson working together as Templars) fics, The Greater Good — Cullen has been subdued by a runaway mage, and is powerless to stop whatever the apostate, Danyel, and Samson do next.
Above him, Samson and Danyel circled each other. Samson had his sword sheathed, his hands in the air. “Listen, Dany. Listen. It’s not too late. I know a guy, all right? I can get you in touch with him. He can get you out of the city. I just need you to calm down. Just calm down, and you and I can walk out of here, forget this ever happened.”
They’re leaving you. Leaving you to die. The voice slithered through Cullen’s mind, and it sounded so much like Uldred’s that he began to shake. That’s what everyone does to you in the end.
Samson had his arm around Danyel. “Hey, look. Where’s your staff?”
The boy turned, searching for the fallen weapon. Cullen coughed, gasping for air. Samson looked up, his deadpan grey eyes meeting Cullen’s own. Samson inhaled once; without breaking Cullen’s gaze, he raised his mailed fist and slammed it against the back of the boy’s head. With a sickening crack, Danyel crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
I love this bit because it really casts Samson in moral shadow — was he planning to help Danyel escape and had a change of heart, or was he deceiving the boy from the start and always meant to help Cullen? Plus what he does to incapacitate poor Danyel really is quite brutal. I wince every time I read it.
Graze: ahahahahah the closest I could find is "grazed" and uh. Well I've gone to an unpublished Thalia x Samson chapter for Through a Glass, Darkly that I pull out and work on when I'm feeling especially feral.
Thalia set to work unraveling the multiple braids she had plaited into her hair this morning. At last she shook it all out, so that her auburn hair hung in heavy waves about her shoulders and down her back.
A stray strand fell across her face. Samson leaned forward, brushing it aside. His fingers grazed her cheek, rough and calloused and raw. Nails bit down to the quick, with dirt and who knew what else caked beneath them. Thalia shuddered.
“I’m not a complete monster, you know,” he murmured. “I’d prefer you enjoy yourself, too.”
Something in Thalia’s chest twisted painfully. “I don’t see how that will be possible.”
Ahahahahah if you have to assure a woman you're not a complete monster, I think you're doing it wrong. There's a gentleness to him in this scene that sets my teeth on edge. I want to believe he's capable of genuine tenderness, but there's always this threat of violence simmering under the surface.
Harsh: A long ago DADWC fill envisioning a post-Trespasser reunion between Thom Rainier and Sera. This was the first time I conceived of Thom starting an ex-con merc company, I think.
“Well, well,” he said, “look what the cat dragged in, eh?”
“Oi, Beardy!” Sera leapt clear over the desk and crushed him in a hug. “You know how long it took me to get here? Fucking tit.”
Thom returned the embrace. She was easily a foot shorter and about a third of his width, but he was vaguely concerned she’d crack a rib if she squeezed any tighter. “It’s good to see you, too.”
Sera released him and perched on the edge of his desk, kicking her feet in the air as she looked around. “Hell of a place you’ve got here, innit? Fixed yourself up real good.”
“It’s had its ups and downs.” The success, though easily measurable by any metric, had left him with a sort of hollowness, though it was difficult to articulate why. Most jobs were clean and easy; the ones too messy or morally questionable he refused by default. He was doing good work out there, he knew it. He did not like to dwell on why it never felt like enough. Thom leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms.“Sera, why exactly have you come?”
She let out an indignant huff. “What, can’t a girl go see her oaf-y old friend? I mean it — like, old. You’ve got grey in your beard now! Huh.”
“Time is a harsh mistress.” Thom resisted the urge to run his fingers through the offending facial hair. “But that’s not really why you’re here, is it?”
This is a world where Thom is thriving, but things never quite feel right. Thalia has married Cullen, and the tension between her and Thom never got resolved. I was low key envisioning a longer story where they reunite over the growing threat from Solas and the love triangle rears its head again, but I have a strict rule never to predict future canon, so I ended up leaving things pretty vague.
Thank you, this is always fun to do!
I am going to tag @oxygenforthewicked | @monocytogenes | @delicatefade | @ammoniteflesh | @bluewren if you would like to play! Your words to search are PLAYER, SIP, and FAVOR.
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Happy Friday!! For dadwc, how about "with you by my side, I feel like I can do anything" for Krem and a person of your choice! 💕
Some Kremquisitor for @dadrunkwriting on this fine evening! Hope you enjoy the start of an idea I've been tossing around for a bit.
***
"Are you sure about this?" Ellana's large violet eyes tracked Krem relentlessly as he paced back and forth across his small room, packing and unpacking bags that should have been prepare hours ago. He didn't even have that many personal belongings. He was stalling, and he knew it, and he kept doing it anyway.
"Nope," he replied, stuffing a now quite wrinkled dress shirt back into a drawer. What did he need his fancy Inquisition reds for anyway? They weren't going to some fancy ball like at Halamshiral.
But what if they did end up going somewhere nice? He grabbed the shirt and stuffed it back in his pack.
Ellana put her chin in her hands, elbows propped on her knees as she slouched on the bed, still watching him with concern on her face. She'd been packed and ready to go for days, which was unusual for her. Typically she was a last-minute kind of packer, but this particular excursion had her very nervous. It was the furthest she'd ever traveled in her life, further than anyone in her clan had even gone, with the exception of one person, and he had never returned.
"I know you're worried," she started as Krem rearranged one of his bags unnecessarily. "But the Chargers and I are going to be there for you the whole time. Even if she doesn't want to see you--"
"I'm not worried about her," Krem threw his arms up, then scrubbed his hands over his face with a frustrated groan. "I'm worried about you!"
Ellana straightened at this, eyes widening. "Me? I'm not the one meeting my estranged mother for the first time in almost ten years!"
The mercenary scratched the side of his head, eyes scrunched up. "I know, I know. Believe me, I'm fucking terrified of that. I don't even know why I want to go. I'm still not sure I do. But we're going to be close by for a job, so...I might as well, I guess?
"But El, I...I don't want you to go with me," he admitted with a guilty cringe.
The Inquisitor crossed her arms over her chest, wood and metal from her prosthetic creaking. "I'm going. Try and leave me behind, see what happens. I'll track you assholes down and let Sera sic her bees on you."
"It's dangerous," insisted Krem. "Tevinter is no place for any elf, but especially a Dalish one, and especially the Inquisitor."
She gave him a sober look that hurt his heart to see on her normally cheerful face. "I know that, Krem. Probably better than most. You know what happened to my mums, and my father." She turned her gaze away, tears glimmering in her eyes. "They sent us back their vallaslin," she choked.
He sat next to her on the bed, the straw mattress sinking beneath them, and pulled her close. A stray red curl tickled his nose and he brushed her long hair back from her face. "I know. And I know you're coming because it's not any safer for me. Tevinter doesn't much appreciate military deserters. Or fraud. 'Least when it's Soporati committing it." Krem rubbed his hand over her shoulder, cheek pressed to the top of her head. She smelled like lavender and vanilla, sweet, floral, and a bit peppery. Fitting, he thought laughing a little to himself.
"They'll have to get through me," she reminded him, cracking a knuckle with her thumb. "So will your mum, if she has anything nasty to say. I don't care if she's your mother, I'll hit her, Krem, I swear it."
"I know," he laughed. "That's why I'm bringing you. Even if it scares me." He pressed a long, loving kiss to her temple. "With you by my side, I feel like I can take on anything. Even this."
#kremquisitor#cremisius aclassi#ellanasha lavellan#writing down fatalities#dragon age#krem#da drunk writing circle
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I have just so many things to say about Liam and I wanted to make an eloquent, cohesive post about him but I’d rather just rattle things off.
First off, there’s the way he communicates. He’s never said to be neurodivergent in-game, just as Sera isn’t either, but as someone with ADHD I relate so strongly to how he expresses himself.
“I miss being able to give directions from what used to be there. Turn where the chip shop used to be.”
“Back in the Milky Way, we were knocking on the doors of stable clones, but that’s different. The bits are already there; it’s snap-together.”
Like Sera, other characters sometimes react like he’s not making sense, but for me he’s the character whose motives and trains of thought are easiest to follow. He’s actually a lot like Sera; they even have a similar scene where they express frustration over things not being back to normal and needing the familiar.
There’s the way he uses movies as a way to connect, not just with the movie night but attaching lists of movies to his emails that relate to its contents (and in the romance, includes a list of all of them called the Truth -- in his words “no secrets”). As the person who's always giving out movie recs and definitely uses movies and tv to connect and understand others, I love that.
There’s the way he’s constantly trying to connect and bridge gaps between people; he wants to build bridges and to do what’s best for everyone. His scene with Jaal where they’re needling each other to find out what’s okay and not okay to say so they know better when the situation is an unknown. He cares so, so much and it’s so apparent in everything he does. It also totally explains why he stopped being a cop. There’s an early banter with Cora that’s really telling:
Liam: Ever disobey an order?
Cora: In my soldier days? No that’s kind of the point.
Liam: It’s that mechanical, you never thought about it?
Cora: Military discipline isn’t there to give you something cool to rebel against. In combat, people depend on you being in the place they expect doing what you’re meant to do.
Liam: That doesn’t mean you’re doing the right thing.
He tells Jaal he left law enforcement specifically because he wanted to do good and he couldn’t as a cop. Jaal makes a crack about Liam just not being good at the job, but he’s right. Liam’s value system is at total odds with the law enforcement system and he would and apparently did make a terrible cop.
“After two years and a dozen suspensions, I took a “lateral promotion” out of the force.”
I can see him wanting to use the power and resources to do all the good he wants to do and then realizing that not only is he literally unable to (”too many obstacles” he tells Jaal), he’s unwelcome to. So then he goes into crisis response, which is totally in line with what he's concerned about.
Some fans get on him for his personal mission and for getting Ryder into that situation but the way he handles the mission is so quintessentially him. He wants to help; he wants to help Ryder and the Initiative and his contact. He messes up, sure, but it's borne out of this inherent desire to do good, include others and see the best in people. If Ryder detains his contact, he's unhappy (and it will end a romance with him).
Liam is one of the most layered companions in the Mass Effect series in my opinion because of all these things. He could just be the archetypal "means well but fucks up sometimes" character, but it's more than that. He has a solid moral core and belief system and he struggles with manifesting that into the real world, but he also is far from naive. His impulsiveness means he dives headfirst in things he thinks will allow him to do what he believes is right. Sometimes those things (like being a cop) are the wrong choice, but in that case he changes course and continues on. He up and joins the Andromeda initiative because he believes in it. He's so utterly sincere and genuine in a way that is lovely to see.
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“Unity” and the Broken Boys
BOY Y’ALL BETTER SIT DOWN BECAUSE THIS IS AS LONG AS CAN BE AND I TOOK OFF WORK TOMORROW SO I’VE GOT TIME
This is....one of the best episodes in the show. Yeah, in all 325 of them, this is hands down one of the best.
First of all, stan Amara for clear skin.
That silent treatment babey, right out the gate with the Angst. Tbh Dean deserves it.
“Like I said, killing Amara, Jack dying...that’s the only way.”
“The only way. Our one shot. Our Last chance. You ever get tired of saying stuff like that?”
“We don’t have to like it, alright? But you and me, we gotta get it done.”
Amara is such a welcome energy in this whole episode. She’s warm and understanding, whip-smart and probably more powerful than Chuck. I love her.
Sam is a wonderful, understanding, loving dad. I love him eternally. He loves Jack so much, he’s trying so desperately to do what’s right for Jack but also what’s right for the world. Jack made this choice, but he can’t live with it. How do you support your child when their life is at stake?
“Come on man. Blindly following orders, lying to Amara, sending her to her death. Does any of this feel right to you??”
“It doesn’t matter how we feel! You know what? Stay. Stay. Someone has to be the grown up here.”
“Yeah well someone has to keep fighting for Jack!”
“He knows what he signed up for!”
“Last I checked, we don’t give up on family.”
“Jack’s not family.”
Y’all should have heard the noise I made. What a fucking line.
“I know how you feel about the kid, I care for him too, I do, but he’s not like you. He’s not like Cas. He’s just not.”
“I’m- I’m ready.”
You can see the regret, the heartbreak in Dean’s eyes. You can see how he wants to take those words back the moment he said them, and for Jack to hear them? It’s unthinkable.
Sam and Cas I’m just so fucking emo dude.
“Sam, you stayed behind to find another way huh? I woulda done the same.”
AMARA
First of all, LOVE this structure.
Amara and Chuck have such a fascinating dynamic. Rob and Emily do a great job (as they have all along) by clearly being siblings but...heightened. You can just tell they both exude power, and the other is the only one they consider an equal.
“You and Dean had that whole weird...thing.”
“That wasn’t you writing?”
“Ugh, not that part. Gross.”
What I took away from this is what I’ve suspected all along. They HAVE free will, just not total free will. Dean and Amara’s connection wasn’t Chuck, there are parts of the story he didn’t write. Obviously, this comes into play later.
I also have a hunch that Chuck doesn’t write romance. I also think that in particular will come into play.
“Balance. Something we’ve never tried before. Creation and destruction, light and dark, brother and sister united again, but on behalf of one world, this world. True balance. The way it was always meant to be. But you can’t. You only care about your pleasure, your story. Well, I guess that makes you the villain.”
“Villains get all the best lines.”
We see again and again this season, Chuck is irredeemable. He doesn’t care about the angels, he doesn’t care about the world, he doesn’t care about anything. He is a petulant toddler who has broken his toys. And when he realizes he’s trapped, he gets angry, he shouts and screams, completely at odds with Amara’s peace.
“You can’t hold me here forever.”
“I can hold you long enough.”
DEAN
Pain is the name of the game in this section homies. Because not only are we dealing with Dean’s pain, we’re also dealing with Jack’s. Jack says he understands why Cas and Sam mean more to Dean, but Dean clearly doesn’t, he, once again, wants to say more, but is stopped, still stopped by his fear: his fear of not beating Chuck.
Alright guys, gals, and non-binary pals. Let’s talk about Adam and Seraphina.
Adam. The first man. And Seraphina. The angel.
“My old lady. She’s the only one who could put up with me all these years.”
Yeah okay. Volume at 100 I get it lmao.
But also: Adam wants God dead not because he and Eve were kicked out of the Garden, but because he went after their sons. The theme of protecting the children strikes again.
“Killing God is your plan?”
“Yeah, Billie’s been giving us a hand but Sera and me, this is our baby.”
This juxtaposed directly with Dean’s own pain at what he has to do to kill Chuck, to gain his free will: the cost of his child.
Adam’s rib.
And who else might get his ribs hurt, only to be likely healed by an angel?
It’s fine, that’s fine. I’m fine with that.
“Jack, I don’t know how to explain it but, when I found out about Chuck, it’s like I wasn’t alive. Not really. You know like my whole life I’ve never been free, but like really free. But now? Now me and Sam, we got a shot at living a life, without all this crap on our backs. And that’s, that’s because of you. So, I want to say, I need to say...thank you, Jack. Thank you.”
I’m gonna have to do a separate post about just Dean in this episode, because there is so fucking much to talk about, but there are a couple of things that I think are important: Dean realizes how wrong he was, to say what he said. He knows that it’s not true, this is the way he’s always coped with loss, by pushing the person to be lost away, but for Jack to hear it? He can’t stand for that.
And:
Dean has finally pushed through the barrier. He won’t be quiet in the face of his doubts anymore. This is a breakthrough for him, and, of course, there are more to come.
SAM
Sam and Cas, my chaos duo.
The box, the inscription, the door.
Death’s library, filled with dead reapers.
And there it is. The Empty.
It tells Sam the plan, the plan for Billie to take God’s place. For everything to go back to the way it’s “supposed to be.”
This has always been the game, since season 13. This is the longest of long games.
Sam fuckin Winchester, lying his way out of a confrontation with the Empty like the legend that he is.
He comes back with a new purpose: to stop Billie’s plan, and here’s where we get to the heart of the episode and maybe the heart of the season.
“You hear that? Dean, brought to the edge of doubt. His sense of duty, his rage winning out in the end. And poor Sam, always gotta know everything. Can’t leave well enough alone. This is my ending, my real ending.”
The gun comes out, pointed at Sam.
Hmm...what did I say during 15x05? Oh yeah, this.
And:
Dean would never survive killing Sam, but he’s willing to do anything, anything to earn his freedom. His ending, where one brother kills the other and then kill himself.
Why, you might ask, did Sam not mention that the angels would be sent back to Heaven, why does he not mention Cas? I’ll tell you why, or rather, Becky will.
Plus, Dean looks back at Cas IMMEDIATELY when Sam says that, when he mentions Eileen, and THAT’S the first time he hesitates. He can’t lose Cas. But at the same time, he’s willing to do anything to have his freedom.
“Sam we don’t have a choice, Jack’s about to blow!”
“We always have a choice!”
You know me, just sitting here thinking about choice, the ability to choose, and how that translates to their free will.
And Sam...I don’t think there will ever be characters I love as much as these.
“I don’t care if Billie gets what she wants! I don’t man, I’d trade it all, I’d trade em all for Chuck. In a heartbeat!”
“What about me?”
“You’d trade me?”
“Chuck has to die. He has to! Otherwise he’ll keep us tap dancing forever, and I can’t live like that man, I can’t live like that, I won’t!”
“I know you feel like that right now, okay? I know you do, but you gotta trust me. My entire life, you’ve protected me. From Dad, from Lucifer, from everything. I didn’t always like it, you know? But it’s the one thing in the whole world that I could always count on. It’s the only thing I’ve ever known that was true. So please, put the gun away. Just put it away. We’ll figure it out, Dean, we’ll find another way, you and me. We always do.”
Okay I feel like this is going to be one of those scenes that I cry watching for years to come. Because fuck. After fifteen years they finally admit that not only did Dean protect Sam from Lucifer, but he protected him from John. John. On a par with Lucifer.
Dean and Sam have, for so many years, sacrificed themselves for the other. Dean’s demon deal, Sam and the trials, every season they have fought to see who can die the quickest for the other. But this? This is them fighting to stop the violence, to stop from killing the big bad. This is them growing, in our eyes, in real time. Sam has always been able to get through to Dean when no one else had a prayer, but for Dean to listen, for Dean to take his words to heart, to stop the hunt for Sam, for their family, that’s how you know they do have free will.
(Btw Chuck’s eye effect when he dusted Amara was sick as fuck but I’m emo for my boys so.)
Chuck knows it’s a loss, he knows that his story has, once again, been thwarted by the boys making their own choices. And he’s pissed, but in his anger, we get a bomb dropped on us.
“Spare me your contempt Castiel, the self-hating angel of Thursday. You know what every other version of you did after “gripping him tight and raising him from perdition”? They did what they were told. But not you. Not the one off the line with a crack in his chassis.”
Are you fucking kidding me?
Also, just worth bringing up this one as well:
Every Castiel pulled Dean out of Hell. Every one told him the same thing. And yet, immediately, with this Cas and this Dean, something was different. Because what has everyone seen about Cas, from the moment he met Dean?
And there’s our endgame people. Laid out on the line.
But we ain’t done yet, fam.
We’ve talked about the handprint, but you know:
So there you have it, our prep into the “monumental” 15x18. I have spec on that, of course, but I think a novel is long enough for this.
What to take away: Dean’s rage was always Chuck’s plan, they do have free will, their love for each other, for their family, is what will stop Chuck’s control, Death is about to come back with a vengeance, Cas’ deal is at play, and, most importantly, Castiel and Dean Winchester are a blind spot for Chuck, something he has never, not once, controlled.
#welcome to my essay lmao#supernatural#spn#spoilers#my meta#spn 15x17#destiel#dean winchester#sam winchester#jack kline#castiel#amara#chuck shurley#lilly liveblogs supernatural
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Insatiable ( Jungkook x Oc) Chapter 5
Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC
Rating 18+
Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC! Age difference!!!
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 5
“Well, this is confusing.”
Namjoon was staring at him like he’d grown an extra head and Jungkook grunted from where he was trying to deadlift the 250lbs barbell, dropping it back down to stare at his friend. He’d never been able to deadlift this much. But then, today everything about him felt different. His senses heightened, vision sharper and just a lot more energy than usual.
“What?” He snapped, slightly annoyed because .... well, he had no idea why he was so annoyed. And that only added to his already foul mood.
“You look like you had a good night. A really good night but you’re also acting like you really need to get laid. So I’m trying to figure out which it is?” Namjoon frowned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
Jungkook groaned , grabbing the small towel from the chair and soaking up the sweat dotting the back of his neck. He walked over to the water dispenser in the corner of the gym, pouring himself a glass, tipping it over his head and shaking out of his hair as the water dripped down his face and neck, drenching his sweat soaked tank top even more. .
Somewhere to his right, one of the ladies on the treadmill, tripped, crashing in a heap on the machine and he couldn’t help but smirk. She had been staring at him the entire time.
Jungkook was used to attention. He was used to the stares and the lust and the heightened heart rates he induced . It had been bad, even in his days as a human and now, five centuries later as a powerful vampire , it had only grown.
He was handsome. He was fit and he was a good guy. It was only natural that women wanted him. And he was okay with that. It gave him the luxury of being able to pick and choose, who he wanted in his bed. And he did.
Not that he did it often. With Joowon to care for, Jungkook often went months on end without sex and that was okay. Because the kind of sex he usually had, it was just ...a release. There was nothing intimate or personal about it.
Even with Helena it had been the friendship that had appealed to him.
Helena was ...fun. She liked to sail through the world, doing as she pleased and taking lovers everywhere. No one could keep her in a place for long and no one could ground her. There had been a time when he had thought that he was in love with her but that was just Helena. She made you feel like you couldn’t live without her. Because of how much happiness she imbibed in the moments. Because of how non judgemental and kind she was.
And he loved her. But now , centuries later it was the love of a dear friend.
But with Sera..... it had been something else.
He had a way he did things.
A little kissing , a little foreplay and just a whole lot of fucking with multiple orgasms for everyone involved. He had a quick refractive period and supernatural stamina so of course he was going to take advantage of that.
But none of that had happened last night.
The actual sex had lasted a scant few minutes. He hadn’t even been inside her more than five minutes and yet the memory was seared into his head. The phantom warmth of her still around him and the scent of her still tugging on his senses.
And the taste of her.
Fucking hell.
Jungkook had never fed from someone during sex. He just didn’t because drinking from someone , taking their life essence...it just...it was something incredibly intimate. It was important to him. Jungkook hardly ever fed from humans , opting to visit a blood cafe for a drink or a dispensary for a few blood bags when he needed to feed.
But last night.
“Earth to Jeon Jungkook.” Namjoon’s voice pulled him to the present.
He stared at his oldest, dearest friend.
“I slept with Sera.” His voice cracked on the syllables of her name, his tone dripping with regret and Namjoon stiffened.
“You... what? “ He stared at him in disbelief.
Jungkook groaned.
“Fuck... I drank from her too. “ He buried his face into his hands.
“Jungkook, that’s... “
“It was her first time. “ Jungkook looked up at him, eyes wide and helpless and Namjoon’s jaw came unhinged.
“Are you going to tell me you’re the pope next? Because my heart can’t take it...”
Jungkook groaned.
“I’m such a fucking idiot. It was supposed to be a no strings attached thing. “
Namjoon’s gaze softened.
“Dude, a girl’s first time? Of course she’s going to get attached. Did she like confess?”
Jungkook hesitated.
“No. Actually, she just got dressed and left.” He shrugged.
Namjoon frowned.
“Oh, then that’s good right?”
Jungkook felt a little sick. He remembered how empty his bed had felt, after she’d kissed him and slipped back into her clothes and rushed back to sleep in her own bed. He hadn’t even helped clean her up because his limbs had felt a bit like jelly. He’d been punch drunk with the taste of her, his head swimming and his body thrumming and she had practically skipped out of his room, not a care in the world.
Hadn’t even kissed him good bye.
“Yeah. Good. “ He said hoarsely , head pounding .
Namjoon was staring at him .
“What ?!” Jungkook snapped, foul mood returning with a vengeance.
“Oh my God. “ Namjoon began laughing.
Jungkook stared at him...What the fuck was wrong with Namjoon.
“You’re the one who got attached.” Namjoon’s eyes were wide as saucers, his fingers pointed right in Jungkook’s face.
The younger yelped, stepping back.
“No.. I.. what?!”
“You look so upset that she left you after sex... I’ve seen that kicked puppy look before. You wore that same face when Joowon didn’t cry on his first day at school!! ‘ Isn’t he gonna miss me hyung?” You whined... i remember that fucking face Jeon jungkook!!!”
Namjoon was on the floor now, guffawing and clutching his sides.
Jungkook glared at his friend.
“What the fuck...no i did not!!” He swore.
Namjoon merely continued laughing.
“Oh, the sweet sweet taste of karma. Serves you right Jeon Jungkook, considering the hearts you’ve broken over the years.”
Jungkook glared at his friend.
Namjoon had no fucking idea what he was on about. Him? Catch feelings ?
Like hell.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He couldn’t find her .
And when he realized why he couldn’t find her, he couldn’t believe it.
“What the fuck do you mean she’s gone on a date?” He snapped at Jimin who gave him an unamused look.
“I’m your hyung, you bastard!” The shorter male yelled and next to him his wife rubbed a soothing hand on his shoulder.
“What Jimin means is that, Yugyeom came by earlier when she was getting changed for dinner...”
“He came into the room when she was getting changed?” Jungkook stared in disbelief, “ What the actual fuck...”
Jimin choked and Somi let out a giggle.
“That’s not what I meant. Sera came back to the room after closing up the daycare and Yugyeom texted her.... that he wanted to pick her up for dinner. She agreed and told me to tell you that she’ll be back at around eleven...”
“Where the hell did they go? I need an address.” Jungkook snapped.
Jimin stared at him like he’d spouted latin.
“what?” He gaped.
Somi held a hand up.
“Yugyeom’s an old friend of ours. He took her out for dinner, that’s all. She’s been out with him before ...Don’t worry Jungkook ssi... She’s perfectly safe with him.” Somi said quickly.
Jungkook merely shook his head, glaring at the pair.
“You should know better than to do this. You know how fucking good she smells to vampires. How could you send her out of the estate without security....in the company of a Kim , no less? I am right here... It’s literally my job to be with her at al times.. Its what I’m paid to do.... ..why didn’t you tell me...” He shook his head.
Jimin and Somi exchanged looks.
“You’re certainly very dedicated to ....your job.” Jimin frowned. Somi meanwhile was holding a hand up and giggling behind it.
God, he couldn’t carry on a conversation with two people who acted like literal children.
He had to go find the Chief.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jungkook blinked.
Once . Twice.
“I’m sorry sir, could you repeat that?” He said sharply.
Chief Hwang gave him a confused look.
“I said , you can stay back today evening and help me with the accounts Jungkook-ah.I do know that Sera’s going for dinner with Yugyeom and well, I really need help with the balancing . I think the gardener has been playing fast and loose with buying germanium seeds and charging them as Lilies . Is he pocketing the difference or is there something else going on...”
Jungkook, who really couldn’t give two fucks about germaniums or Lilies , merely stared at the patriarch of the clan, trying to decide if the older man was joking because how on earth was he supposed to just....
“Let her go on the date alone? Without me?” He asked, his tone screaming that he wasn’t okay with that.
At all.
Chief Hwang hummed.
“Yes of course... I’ve known the boy for two centuries. He’s a good man. “
“You’ve known me for five centuries.” Jungkook reminded him , instinctively.
And then he blinked because why on earth had he said that?
Chief Hwang had an amused look on his face.
“Yes of course. And you’re a very fine young man as well, Jungkook. Too bad you think Sera is like a daughter to you....”
Wait.
What?
Was the older man teasing him? Jungkook could’ve sworn he saw a hint of mischief in the vampire’s eyes.
“Don’t you?” Chief Hwang asked.
“Sir?”
“Don’t you think of her as a daughter, Jungkook-ah.? Isn’t that what you told her?”
Jungkook had the sudden terrible feeling that Sera told her father everything.
“Uh..it was just an expression sir. She’s a good ... friend.” He finished.
Chief Hwang hummed thoughtfully.
“I see. Well, Yugyeom thinks she would make a wonderful mate. “ He shrugged.
Jungkook felt his fists clench.
“I still think I should be there sir... Just to... make sure she’s safe. It’s kind of my job.” He said gruffly.
“Are you sure? Germaniums and Lilies are vastly different and for the gardener to-”
“Sir to be very honest I don’t really care about the damn flowers. Sera needs to be safe and I’m not letting anyone hurt her on my watch. So I’d really appreciate if you tell me where she is....” Jungkook said sharply. His heart was pounding.
Chief Hwang gave him a thoughtful glance, his lips quirking up in a smile.
“ Looks like I’ll be planning a wedding after all.” He chuckled thoughtfully and Jungkook frowned, confused.
“Sir?”
“Let me put you out of your misery, Jungkook ah... She’s having dinner at the Hyatt Resort.... The private conference room on the seventh floor. Yugyeom reserved it for her.” The older man glanced at his watch and smiled, “ There’s a fire work show in exactly half an hour. Sera loves those.... If you leave right now, you can interrupt them right on time. “
Jungkook blushed , blood rushing to his face.
“Sir.. I’m not.. I don’t...want to interrupt.” God, he sounded fake to his own ears.
Chief Hwang waved him off with a laugh. .
“Go on go on..And maybe buy me some patbingsu on your way back..!! “
Jungkook stared.
“Uh yes sir. “
“Good. Close the door on your way out, son.”
Jungkook closed the door, trying to ignore the way warmth flooded his heart at the way the man had addressed him.
Son.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR’S nOTE : a short chapter because I wanted to write something from Jungkook’s point of you...also Chief Hwang playing cupid is my favorite thing ever...
@ladyartemesia @veronawrites @alpaca1612 @bonyg @unseejuice21 @sppvjj @ggukkieland @tae-by-tae @blr1004 @yoongichild @stussyjeon @jellybearo @sumzysworld @carolsummerlove
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Please come scream with me...
#jungkook#jungkook fics#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#jungkook vampire au#bts vampire au#bts fics#bts smut#bts fanfics
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Like the Stars Chase the Sun, Over Glowing Hill I Will Conquer
Welcome to my new WIP fic: starring Anders at Skyhold and all of the terrible, wonderful fallout that comes with that.
-///-
There was a mage at the gates.
This was not necessarily an unusual thing in Skyhold. The inquisitor herself was a mage, after all, and the more apostates who heard about the inquisition’s alliance with the mages in Redcliffe, the more volunteers appeared at Skyhold eager to finally be able to give their staffs to the cause as equals.
This mage, however, was glowing: cracked skin, ice-blue eyes, power in every step he took.
Abomination.
Evelyn Trevelyan let out a weary sigh. And to think, this was supposed to be her day off.
At least she had been halfway to Cullen's office when the mage started his storm across Skyhold's bridge. The battlements had given her a perfect view of the power crackling off of him with every step. Whoever this man was, he was trouble, especially if he'd gotten this far. He should have been stopped by scouts well before he reached Skyhold's inner courtyard.
“I demand entrance!” The abomination was booming in a voice deep and dangerous, when Evelyn got to the bottom of the stone stairs to find Cassandra’s sword already pointed forward, Sera’s bow outstretched and a dozen other inquisition men and women on guard.
The mage didn’t even seem to notice them. Which could mean one of two things: he was very stupid, or very powerful. Knowing Evelyn’s luck, it was bound to be the latter. Or worse, it would be both.
“Get back, demon,” Cassandra hissed, “or I will run you through.”
“You may try.”
Okay, okay, none of this was good, but the man couldn’t possibly launch a one-man assault on Skyhold of all places. Thanks to Cullen’s paranoia it was possibly the most well-defended place in all of modern Thedas. Still, best to keep this simple—
“Why are you here?” Evelyn finally found her voice. Her own staff was raised in preparation, but she’d leant that it sometimes helped to know what was going on. Get your enemy talking, that was always the important thing. If you had to cut them down later, then at least you'd have the information you needed, “Did Corypheus send you?”
“Don’t fucking talk to it!” Sera’s voice echoed across the courtyard, hysterical in a way it only was around magic she viewed as 'messed up' (see: all magic), “fucking demons marching in and fucking— it’s fucking Venatori lets just fucking kill—”
“We are not associated with Corypheus or his army – we seek only justice to reign upon their heads. We are here for Hawke, and you have kept her from us. You are blocking our way inquisitor—”
Well. That wasn’t good. Nobody was supposed to even be aware that Hawke was preparing for the trip to Weisshaupt in Skyhold; they’d been careful with who exactly had that particular piece of information. So how did this man know—
“Holy fucking shit, blondie?”
Evelyn didn’t turn to see Varric, though she heard the familiar tell-tale click that told her he’d unsheathed Bianca and locked her into position. The abomination now had at least twenty weapons pointed at him in the courtyard, let alone whoever else had their targets trained on him unseen. They weren’t just dealing with Cullen, after all. Leliana’s people were excellent at their jobs.
Still. Varric didn’t give nicknames to just anyone. And she’d heard that one before, hadn’t she? When he was talking about—
“Varric. Where is Hawke? People are saying she did not return from—”
"Varric? You know this man?" Cassandra spoke, half aghast.
“Oh, for fucks sake, she’s fine, blondie, can you please fucking stop glowing, you’re giving me unwanted flashbacks.”
The abomination cocked its head slightly to one side and glanced around as if seeing the scene he was causing for the first time. Then, very slowly, he nodded once, “If Hawke is indeed safe, we will disarm.” Slowly, the abomination lowered his staff to the floor and set it down.
Cassandra’s eyes narrowed, “Unwanted flashbacks…Varric you cannot truly be about to tell me that this is…”
The cracked blue of the apostates skin slowly faded, eyes going from white-blue to gentle honey gold. It was bizarre. Evelyn had seen abominations before – she’d been taught about their dangers every day in the circle. And yet. She’d never heard of someone having enough control while possessed to simply hide the demon away at command. Not when it was worked up into a rage like this man just had been. Cole and Solas had both taught her that there was much about magic she did not understand. Yet to have such willpower...she was right, this man must be incredibly powerful.
The apostate took a deep breath. He may be powerful but ge looked…awful, actually, now that he looked human. There were rings under his eyes that spoke to a distinct lack of sleep, and he was favouring his right leg. Whatever had happened to bring him here, he’d clearly not had an easy journey.
Carefully, the apostate stepped forward, and held out a hand for Evelyn to shake, “I’m afraid he is about to tell you that,” the man clarified, “Anders; grey warden, healer, abomination, apostate and most wanted man in Thedas, at your service.”
Evelyn felt the colour drain from her face.
Well.
Shit.
“Now, if you could just tell me where my wife is, I can stop terrorising you at your gates.”
Find the rest by clicking here! (link takes you to AO3)
#hawke x anders#Handers#anders dragon age#anders#hawke#cullen rutherford#cullen x inquisitor#dragon age#dragon age inquisition#dragon age 2#da2#dai
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A Treat :3
So, started writing my Modern Solavellan AU, and I haven’t decided on a title yet, but it’s labeled ‘Project Yune’! I have snippet and I want to share it because YES. X3
***
Heya, Professor Grump, u should hit up the tat parlor today! I won’t shite up ur arm! Unlike you, I’m an expert at my job! jk jk But seriously, let me ink ya! :P - Sera - Read at 4:30 AM on November 6th, 2021
Wanna swing by the bar after your shift, Temp? I know you got the money, but let me put you on my tab. And bring Yune if you decide to come. Hawke won’t shut up about him. Let me know what you plan, I’ll reserve the VIP suit for ya! - Varric - Read at 4:32 AM on November 6th, 2021
You owe me three bottles of wine after that goose chase, Lavellan! The most I could find was a nearly obliterated copy of ‘Dragons for Dummies’! And let me say, the writing was atrocious! Three bottles. By midnight tonight. If not, I’ll come to that ritzy apartment of yours and raid your shelves. This is a threat. <3 - Dorian - Read at 4:40 AM on November 6th, 2021
Yo, Drag. Drop by the gym if you can. Krem’s itching to box with you again. Lol You’re the only one, besides me, that doesn’t go easy on him. And I could go for a few rounds. :P - Bull - 4:42 AM on November 6th, 2021
I was able to get the files uploaded from the University of Orlais’ database. I’ll encrypt and forward them to you. Transfer to a flash drive this time. Just fyi. - Leliana - Read at 4:45 AM on November 6th, 2021
An automated message from the FPD - Mr. Fane Lavellan, it has been brought to our attention that you have been seen and reported of walking your dragon without a leash. For the safety of the public and in abiding by the law, we ask that you use one. If not, you will be sent a citation of $400 with the possibility of jail time. Thank you for your cooperation. - Sent to Trash at 4:47 AM on November 6th, 2021
Brother, Cullen told me you were walking Yune again without a leash. I know how you feel about that stuff, but at least look as if you’re using one. Think about Mother, kay? The last thing she needs is you getting vaulted into jail. Btw u coming with me on Friday to visit her? Let me know! :) - My - Read at 4:50 AM on November 6th, 2021
Fane let out a heavy sigh as he read each message on his phone, leaving each one left on read as he did so. Well, not the one from the police department. That one belonged in the trash, and it would always belong in the trash. Rutherford could kiss his ass and send him the citation. All he would do is pay it, be done with it, and begin the dance again.
“Dragons don’t belong on leashes, and I’m not going to pretend to put him on one. Suck my ass, Rutherford.”, Fane grumbled into the open area as he chucked his phone into the covers next him, the glare giving him a headache. Why was he even up right now? He still had two hours before he had to get ready. “Fuck, it’s too early for me to be up. Damn these nightmares..” He lifted a hand from under the covers, a light huff from the tiny creature of white and silver next to him making him snort tiredly before he began to rub the sleep from his eyes, the lids feeling as if sand was behind them and a pulley was yanking them downwards. Yeah, way too early, but nightmares that practically screamed at him were hard to shake off. His father could suck his ass, too.
Another heavy sigh left Fane’s lips as his rubbing yielded no relief and bitter memories threatened to follow from his dreams. This was starting off to be a fantastic morning so far. A myriad of messages that he would have to respond to, most were simple though, it was just a hassle, especially when his day started off shitty, awake at the ass crack of dawn, no sunlight filtering in from the blinds just behind where his bed was situated yet, and disgusting memories of physical abuse that had scarred his body and mind alike from a man he had regarded as a father when he didn’t even know who his real one was, but only saw and thought of as a monster now. At least he hadn’t had to tear from bed to vomit. What a plus, right? He hated mornings with a passion.
Fane threw his hand down onto the bed with a growl as the calling of further sleep was nowhere to be found, but froze up a bit when he could see a pair of glittering golden emerald eyes, the two tone hue like that of a precious jewel, glaring at him with sleepy agitation from his peripheral. He smirked a bit at the exasperated huff that expelled from a tiny snout, the air surprisingly cool despite coming from a living being. Then again, his little judge used to be indigenous to frigid mountains and tundras. He could probably freeze Fane right where he lay, and it would appear that that might be just the thought as round eyes drooped into a mild glare, the undulating gold in them seeming to brighten despite the dimness of the bedroom.
“Cool your jets, Yune.”, Fane quipped at the little dragon, letting out an amused huff of air when the twinkling glare didn’t abate. “Don’t glare at me like that. You think I want to be up at..”, he reached over for his phone again, gripping the sleek black and silver cover and scooping it up, tapping the button on the side to awaken it. He blinked a bit with a grimace as blue light blinded him for a second before he saw the time displayed before him. “..5:15 in the morning? Egh..”
Yeah, it was way, way too early. For both of them.
***
It has a begun! And it is MARVELOUS!
#my writing#my fanfiction#oc: fane lavellan#fane is a mood and hates the authorities XD#don't tell him to leash his dragon cullen pbbbbt!#i'm excited to write more of this! X3#dragon age#dragon age fanfiction#solavellan#wip
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Any family headcanons for the gang members who's families we weren't told about??
Guess who was doing headcanons again at 4am??? ME!!! I’m sorry also with the much wanted help of @jjadegreen because she’s officially my headcanon pal and she always helps me a lot with this shit :)
I’m literally posting these at 5:45 am but they sounded good in my sleep-deprived head and they looked good on paper from my sleep-deprived vision so I’m just gonna post this now and worry about it tomorrow!
I use these headcanons regardless of whether its an Everyone Live’s situation or not so there are clashes between fics like the Storm and The Unknown (I usually just use most of these headcanons regardless of what I’m writing and what universe and whatever)
I know I say this whenever I post ANY fucking headcanons, but I’m sorry.
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Abbacchio
-There’s not much to say about his parents. They were pretty average. All they wanted was for him to be successful; get a nice job, find someone to love. They weren’t too close with him, but they were there.
-He did, however, have an older sister by the name of Pantera Abbacchio
-And she was even more goth than he was.
-When lil Leone was just starting out in high school, she already was in her last year and by then she was already a fully-ascended goth goddess
-They weren’t that close (they had a 4 year difference) and she always thought he was too enthusiastic about everything. They never really connected
-BUT—
-He got really curious and thought she was really cool so he used to steal her clothes and makeup all the time and all her friends made fun of her for it, but she secretly thought it was adorable
-She was cold at first, but soon started sharing everything with him (she lent him all her fishnet clothes and purple dresses and crazy silver jewelry and even let him use her lipstick sometimes
-His parents thought it was a bit...unconventional at first but they wanted him to be happy so they supported it
-One day after school he got dragged into an alleyway (bb Abba was puny I don’t make the rules) and just got the absolute shit beaten out of him. She had poetry club after school so as she was walking to the parking lot she found him there bawling his eyes out because he got blood all over her favourite shirt
-She took him shopping that day (she put concealer on him in the mall parking lot to hide the bruises from their parents)
-They also got ice cream
-She didn’t approve of him becoming a cop (she don’t like cops one bit) but when he let his partner die and learned that he took bribes, she was so fucking angry. She never wanted to talk to him again
-His parents tried to stay connected, but the family seemed too fragmented and everyone was still angry at him
-Years later, she decided that maybe she should talk to him, to try and reconnect
-When Giorno picked up the phone instead and explained everything to her, she realized she was too late
-She was a sobbing, screaming mess and she felt like a terrible sister
-She felt like if she had called sooner, he wouldn’t have gotten wrapped up in the mafia
-Giorno invited her to the funeral, and they properly met there
-It was an open-casket, and in his will he requested that he wore the first dress that his sister bought him. (It had to be tailored a bit, but it fit)
-She planted purple lilies by his grave, and although she hasn’t talked to the gang since the funeral, the flowers are always watered.
Fugo
-His parents were assholes. Rich assholes.
-They gave him everything he wanted in exchange that he keep up their reputation, but even now, he still felt like he never did that right
-He had a little brother, Budino Fugo
-His brother was the last thing on his mind when he went to University, Panna would almost call himself an only child
-They weren’t close at all. They were always separated because of Fugo’s unpredictable anger and their house was so big that the only time they would see each other were during family greeting card photoshoots and for the painting of the giant portrait that sat in their foyer
-They got it re-painted once they kicked him out
-Budino was only three when Fugo was disowned, so by the time he’s older, his mysterious older brother is nothing but a distant memory, only someone he would pose with for photos and large gatherings
-Any photos of Panna are gone by the time he’s five, as are any traces of him existing. Anytime he would ask about the blond that disappeared out of their lives, he was always denied any answer
-He learned not to answer any questions
-Unbeknownst to him, he ended up looking exactly like his brother. If you were to place two photos of them side-by-side at the same age, you would barely be able to tell them apart
-He grew up without ever really knowing that his brother existed and he always thought of himself as an only child
-He grew up to be the perfect child. Charming, happy, calm, intelligent. He became the Pannacotta Fugo that his parents always wanted
-Everyone loved him, and although he didn’t go University that young, his charm and good reputation made up for it
-Budino would like to say that he lived a good life, but sometimes he wakes up and wonders who the blond look-alike is that always seems to pop up in his dreams. He wonders why he feels like something is missing, like there’s something that everyone isn’t telling him. He wonders who was holding him during photoshoots and who his parents used to yell at in the fragments of his memories
-But he shrugs it off. He has everything he could ever need, so why should he worry about that?
Mista
-Mista’s parents weren’t poor, but they weren’t exactly rich either. Living in a big family, they had to learn how to spread out their spending, and sometimes they didn’t exactly have enough to eat every night
-Both of his parents worked endlessly long hours and barely made it back by dinnertime, but sometimes they did, and every night when they didn’t, they still had food on the table
-Mista never hated his parents, but they were pretty dependent on him. They needed him to look after his sisters while they were working, and although he found it irritating, he never resented them for it
-The only time Mista can confidently say the number four without wincing is when he’s talking about his sisters
-Four of them, to be exact
-Mela was the youngest, around six or seven the last time Mista heard from her. She was pretty fragile most of the time and had to stay home from school a lot because of how weak her immune system was
-Mista missed a lot of school taking care of her, but she was always fun to be around and he managed to graduate with pretty good grades by the end of it
-He soon found out that she shared the same name as Narancia’s mother. He knew the two had more in common than they thought
-Stella was around nine the last time Mista saw her. She was the most professional and serious person he had ever met. She got incredible grades in school and her teachers often said that she was destined to be something like a doctor or a famous scientist
-Although she wasn’t exactly a jokester like her brother, he always managed to get her to crack a smile once in a while
-Gioia was thirteen, and she fit her name perfectly; she was the most joyous person Mista had ever met. Almost the exact opposite of Stella (she would always make fun of her for being such a prude)
-She loved cooking and would always help Mista out with taking care of Mela, but she loved animals even more than food
-They couldn’t afford a pet, but she always befriended the neighbourhood cats and Mista was even saving up to buy her a cat or snake (she loved snakes)
-Sera was fifteen, and somehow even quieter than Stella. She always seemed very reserved and closed off from the rest of the world, even Mista couldn’t get her to laugh
-She had a soft spot for Gioia, Mista noticed that the two of them would sneak out of the house at night and he wondered if she was a different person away from the rest of them
-Mista sees Sera and Giorno as almost one in the same, which is why he doesn’t exactly know how to react when he sees Gio in such a state in Stormverse
-After he went to jail, no one went to visit him. His parents were furious that he could murder a man, and he never saw his sisters again
-Stella was so angry and disappointed the last time he saw them all in that holding cell, she refused to even look at him. Gioia was bawling her eyes out and Sera gave him the hardest stare he had ever seen. Mela asked when he was coming home.
-He never did.
-When Bruno bailed him out of jail, he managed to give both of his parents a pretty large raise and promotion in their jobs
-They were always there for dinner after that, always there for them, and that’s all Mista ever really wanted for his family in the end.
Giorno
I’m sorry, bros. I have no headcanons for him. Only child, shitty family. All he really had was Gold Experience’s presence and a pack of cards.
Trish
-Donatella Una was a single mother, and her and Trish were very close because of it
-Her mother was beautiful and taught her everything she knows about the fashion world
-She had the most beautiful singing voice and always dreamed of being in the music industry -When Trish voiced interest in trying out for a few local parts, she was overjoyed and they instantly bonded over it. Trish claims later when her music career kicks off that her mother was her biggest inspiration
-Donatella was the absolute QUEEN of Girl’s Nights™—she would always go all out on snacks, makeovers, shitty romcoms...you name it and she probably spent way too much money on it
-They would do each other’s nails all the time and her mother taught her how to do her hair every morning
-She was in the middle of teaching Trish how to do winged eyeliner when she had to go to the hospital. She died before she could finish teaching her
-She never resented her father (well, before she met him, that is), even her mother knew that there was no way he could have known she was pregnant, but she always liked to think that he would have taken care of them if he did
-That opinion changed very quickly
-Always had that mineral water on hand—Ms. Una said hydrate or diedrate
-She couldn’t cook for the life of her so they got takeout A LOT and Trish has been to a fair share of fancy restaurants
-Her and her mom were going to go out together after school and get pedicures before the school got a call that she had been rushed to the hospital
Narancia
-He was an only child and his mother was always very kind to him
-She was the kind of mom who would cut your sandwich into a different shape every morning and made sure you got enough water and sunscreen and stuff
-Before she got her eye infection, the two of them would always be spending time together. His father was nice enough to the both of them and was never cruel while she was alive, but the moment she was admitted to the hospital, something inside him kind of unclicked and he never bounced back from it
-Although his father would come with him for hospital visits, he mostly stood to the side and spoke with the doctors while Nara would sit with his mama
-The hospital had all this stuff for sick patients like therapy animals and music and a really beautiful garden so Narancia would bring his mom outside all the time to sit under the apple trees
-And YES, he DID grow an apple tree in the backyard in Stormverse thanks to Giorno
Bruno
-It was just him and his dad after his mom left
-Bruno was a lot like Paolo in the way that the two of them were super stoic and rarely showed weakness around each other
-They were still very close
-They would go fishing together!!! Bruno was taught about boats and fishing and pretty much everything about the trade
-When he was little, he wanted to be just like his father :)
-When Paolo would go out for the day, he would hang around the dock in the summertime waiting for him to come back
-All the fishermen’s kids would hang around there too whenever there wasn’t school, so Bruno used to play with them all the time
-He got his first point as “cool mom friend” when he saved a tourist’s kid from drowning when they fell off the dock when he was around nine or ten
-The tourists gave Paolo an extra big tip that day :)
-He absolutely got his savior complex when his parents divorced and he chose to stay with his dad
-Pretty much nothing scared baby Bruno but thunderstorms hit different
-His father was always really careful about going out on really cloudy days, but once in a while a storm would hit and he would be forced to dock somewhere else until it passed through
-Bruno would sit there for hours not knowing if he was okay or not
-Bruno Bucciarati does not cry, but on those nights he did.
-Because he couldn’t lose his dad, too.
-He would always come back, of course, and he would always ask why Bruno’s eyes and nose were so red
- “Just Summer allergies, papà. Don’t worry about it.”
-He loves the rain, but thunder still kind of freaks him out
-After his father got attacked, he dropped out of school to work for Passione. When he was well enough to go home, his dad finally figured it out and they had a huge fight about it
-Bruno slept half-awake by the front door with a pocket knife in his hand and he would board up all the windows
-The longer he worked for Passione the more him and his father drifted apart. Bruno was always paranoid after that, but he could never tell him why and it caused a huge rift between them
-His mother didn’t come to Paolo’s funeral
-He moved out almost immediately after the funeral and Polpo got him a place to live after he heard what happened
-He doesn’t often visit his father’s grave, but he constantly thinks about him with every decision he makes
-He always wanted to retire someone close to the sea.
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Yeah ahaha did you know I’m capable of really sad headcanons? YOU DO NOW. Were Fugo and Abba’s ridiculously long? YeAh :) Were Nara and Trish’s ridiculously short? Also YeAh :(
Again, a wonderful beautiful thanks to @jjadegreen because my small brain self can’t come up with all the headcanons on my own ;’)
If you’ve got a question, come and vibe and hit up my inbox!! <3
#jjba#jojo's bizarre adventure#jojo's bizzare adventure golden wind#bruno buccellati#bruno bucciarati#giorno giovanna#trish una#narancia ghirga#pannacotta fugo#leone abbacchio#family feels#headcanons#ask-c-c-cherry#guido mista#again Im sorry half of these are so depresso
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Oh Sweet Maker, there’s two of them
Basically @mfmoonbear has an OC (an elf mage named Yelisavita Lavellan) and so do I (an Qunari elf mage named Fen’Harel Adaar). Now they’re here together in a story. A n g e r y co-Inquisitor AU here. Rivalry +100.
They get along. Sometimes.
LET’S GET READY TO RUMBLE!
***
Due to its Andrastian nature, Skyhold was more than just a battle fortress. It was also a tribute to the Maker; the garden was often peaceful as the Chantry mothers swung censures while muttering the Chant of Light. However, Skyhold was also a refuge for all kind of people, including the polytheists of the Dales.
“DIRTHAMEN’S SHADOWY NUTSACK WHAT THE FUCK”
One such example rang through the courtyard as four pairs of feet kicked up dust mid-run. There was a race happening, as usual, between two very competitive people, both dubbed Inquisitor. Yelisavita and Fen’Harel got along well enough at first. Though their time together in Haven was drought with cat fighting they grew to mutually respect each other.
That, however, did nothing to stop their competitive nature.
It all started as a simple ‘race you to the War Room’ which was turning into an all-out mage battle royale. Both Harel and Yel made their way up the steps leading to the Main Hall, shoving each other before Harel caught the small elf in a headlock.
“YOU CHEATING BASTARD!” she screamed, making her face as red as her Valaslin, “LET ME GO!!!”
Harel switched her tactic, looping her arms around Yel before throwing her from the steps, “Make a barrier this time else you’ll get some bad bruises!”
Giggling like an ass, Harel continued up the stairs, hopping over several steps at a time before she felt something cold take hold of her legs. At once, the Qunari elf listed forward before catching herself, attempting to yank her legs from its new icy prison.
“You little fuckin-” Harel started.
“Fucking what? Cheater? I didn’t cheat first, remember?” Yel interjected with a smile as she jogged back up the steps, taking her time before stopping by Harel, “Aw is the Dread Wolf stuck? Do you need help puppy?”
A menacing stare shot from the half-Qunari as her body began shaking. Soon enough, the ice began hissing as little wisps of flames licked out from Harel’s skin, eating away the ice.
“I’m a mage too, you fuck,” Harel growled
Yel simply smiled, coating her hand in a slick sheet of ice before reaching up to pat the angry co-Inquisitor’s cheek, “Uh-huh, I see that. Have fun with that ice, it’s extra reinforced for shitheads like you.”
Flinching at the cold touch, Harel pulled back before focusing to burn the ice away; Yel jogged up the stairs, only turning around for one second to mouth I win.
Oh that fucking does it.
Summoning every drop of magic in her bones, Harel blasted the ice chunks away, scaring quite a few people and earning a far away cheer from someone in particular.
“BEAT HER ASS!!!!” Sera yelled from the tavern rooftop, “SORRY YEL BUT I’M ROOTIN’ FER THE TALL ONE!!!”
Hearing the aftermath, Yel turned around slowly, green eyes shining with surprise. Harel shook the chips of ice from her feet before giving her signature wide-eyed, wide grin.
“You heard her,” Harel said as she began clomping up the stairs, “I’m gonna beat YOUR ASSSSSSSS!!!!”
Now, Yelisavita was a powerful and highly dangerous mage. She survived a great deal of trauma and death. Crawling out of Haven’s ruins, she proved she was indeed walking in the Maker’s Light despite being an Alienage elf.
In that moment, however, Yel was a fennec in the eyes of a hyena. One would think she’d be careful now that she’d angered the other mage.
“Says the idiot caught in a simple ice spell.” Yel antagonized before leaping away, breaking into a sprint.
Summoning another bout of magic, Harel brought forth ice, Faade Stepping in a blue blur past the stairs and into the Main Hall. Unfortunately for Harel’s dumbass, Yel had caught on, Fade Stepping in tandem past her.
Varric had to hold down his many Merchant’ Guild letters as the two flew past, his hands gripping the many pages tightly, “HEY! Can’t a dwarf do some paper mache in peace?”
Back to shoving each other, Harel and Yel scrapped with Yel’s hands around Harel’s horns and Harel’s own trying to push the elf away.
“NO!” they shouted together at Varric, on the same page for once.
The black bones of Harel’s horns began to smoke as Yel funnelled fire into her hands.
‘YOU LITTLE SHIT!” Harel said before finally pushing her off, “Did you just try to burn off my fucking horns??!!!”
Harel in turn pushed the office doors open, noticing the absence at the desk before breaking into a sprint. Kicking in the office exit, Harel opened the door just in time to see Yel cracking the War Room entry open.
Using the opportunity, Yel took off once more, diving through the Ambassador’s office towards the War Room.
“GET BACK HERE!!!!”
Instead of saying some crude quip, Harel continued running, pulling magic from her body once more to Fade Step, meeting Yel halfway as she flew forward in a blue streak. The Alienage elf turned back at the last second, her green eyes once again wide in surprise as Harel leapt forward, grabbing Yel and sending them both tumbling through the door. They rolled, pulling each other’s hair and scrabbling like wet cats before someone cleared their throat.
“Good day, Inquisitors,” Cullen said, raising his voice to cut off the tail end of their argument, “I see everyone is in high spirits.”
For a moment, the two stayed the way they were with Yel’s hands around Harel’s throat and Harel’s hand pushing Yel’s face back.
Releasing her grip, Yel pushed Harel’s face back, shoving her into the ground before getting up. She gave a great smile as she dusted herself off, moving to take her place at the War Table.
“Good day, Commander,” she said with a smile, a light blush painting pink shades around her Valaslin.
Cullen smiled back, gripping the pommel of his sword before looking away, also blushing just a bit.
“FUCKIN-” Harel shouted as she moved off the ground, interrupting what was supposed to be a lovely moment, “I will put my foot so far up your a-”
Another throat cleared, this time, from the very end of the War Table.
“Harel,” Josephine assuaged, “I will kindly ask that you show a modicum of decorum. Thank you.”
Scrunching up her face, Harel looked between Yel and Josephine, at first settling on the elf’s smug grin before staring at the lovely Antivan.
“Lucky little fuck,” Harel muttered as she took her place next to Yel, “Damn fuckin lucky that Josie’s here or else I’d-”
“You’d what? Cry at me, wolf?” Yel replied, her smug grin only growing wider.
And once again, the flames of rivalry grew, fanning into an inferno as static crackled in Harel’s palms and fire spun around Yel’s body.
“YOU ARE NOT CHILDREN” Leliana shouted, clapping her hands, her eyes glistening like vicious sapphires, “So for Andraste’s sake, stop fighting like infants! Behave yourself!”
Yel and Harel differed in many ways but there was one thing they agreed on. Leliana was scary and when that Orlesian had enough of their shit, it was time to stand straight, shut up and do their job.
“E-emerald Graves,” Harel stuttered, looking at Yel, “Thinking we could go to the Graves to do...do that thing…”
Yel nodded before staring at the map, trying her best not to look up at Leliana, “We should go to the Hissing Waste’s actually but sure….sure….The Graves sounds...important too.”
At the opposite end of the table, Josephine sidled up to Cullen, finishing the last flourish of her letter before whispering, “ Our paramours continue to be interesting, do they not?” she dips the quill in ink, writing another line, “However, it would be preferable if they did not fight so much. It is indeed troubling for our reputation when they scrap in the public eye.”
Cullen sighs as he looks at Yel, watching her brush back a strand of strawberry blonde hair before pushing a map marker away from Harel’s hand, “ They’re not so bad, Ambassador. My sisters and I fought in a similar way, but because we hated each other. I think they’ll be fine.”
Turning away from her clipboard, Josephine looked at Harel who continued trying to pick up the map marker, only to have it shoved away, “Perhaps you are correct. Maybe they are growing to be friends.”
“IF YOU PUSH THAT MARKER ONE MORE TIME I SWEAR ON ANDRUIL’S SWEATY TIT’S I’LL SKIN YOU ALIVE!!!!”
“Oh, you want to lose again, pup? Don’t go crying to your prissy little bedbuddy -I mean no disrespect Ambassador- ” Yel stops for a moment, looking at Josephine before turning to Harel once more, “when I tan your hide faster than you can say Mythal.”
“Inquisitor-” Cullen starts before Harel shoots a glare at him.
“Don’t even try it, Curly!”
“DON’T TALK TO HIM LIKE THAT!” Yel shouts back, giving the taller half-elf a shove.
And once more, a fight broke out in the War Room as all three Advisors watched the pair roll around on the floor. One would say they were akin to a wolf and a lioness fighting when in fact they were just two aggressive nugs duking it out.
Today was just one of those days where they didn’t get along more than usual. Hopefully, soon they’d be back to some kind of mutual idiocy with Yel on Harel’s shoulders, steering the half-Qunari around by the horns before they’d both fall down some hill.
Josephine and Cullen, though different in many aspects both thought the same thing as they watched their other halves fight.
Maker help me and my competitive girlfriend.
#Harel: *breathes* Yel: (+999 Rivalry)#birds of a feather fight forever#dragon age ocs#Yelisavita Lavellan#Fen'Harel Adaar#dragon age fic#dragon ag drabble#dai fanfic#da:i fanfic#mage inquisitor#inquisitors#Qunari elf#elf inquisitor#qunari inquisitor
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Cardfight!! Vanguard Extra Story IF 17—19 things
feat some overdue screaming
IF 17
said overdue screaming
Without the context of epi 19, Kourin’s reference to original memories stands out as incredibly peculiar. Miwa’s response, while fitting for anyone else, could have an entirely new meaning after the revelation at 19′s conclusion, we’ll get there in theoryland.
Never knew needed Kai-kun working part-time jobs but it has become a huge need, thanks writers.
That’s gay. But it does suggest that the possible ruptures in IF’s reality aren’t isolated to Shin and Kamui in the previous episode. It would be nice to see any other instances from the possible ripple effect.
pre-19: “oh this face is a mood”. post-19: “different character but hmmmmm”
With all the Legion Mate comparisons floating around from the get-go, Naoki’s method in tackling his regret is an intriguing choice against his past efforts. In Link Joker, Legion Mate and the second half of the manga/Reboot, Naoki’s objective was to make for his inaction going forward and earn Aichi’s forgiveness. If given the opportunity to go back and redo things, he may have taken it, though having heard from Aichi personally that he’s thankful for everything and everyone that he’s connected with as a result of how events played out, Naoki may not have had the heart to do so. Without that talk, it’s natural that, instead of looking ahead and atoning, Naoki’s turning backwards, it’s a neat contrast.
The series has always built up the relationship between Aichi and Blaster Blade but the relationship between Kai-kun and Dragonic Overlord is so precious, it’s a shame that it wasn’t delved into prior to the past couple of years. The notion of evolving circling the both of them is incredibly fitting, with the history they’ve had in both continuities and the duality of their approaches. (It might have been occupying thoughts a lot since, the scene was so poignant).
Between his soldiers attacking during their first (onscreen) attempt to reach the root of the problem and Emi’s subsequent admission, props to Aichi for isolating it and cutting it off to anyone that tries to interfere, hoping it’s a part of any explanation to his reality warping (assuming it was him, until today, it seemed the only viable reason).
The comparison between Naoki and Kai-kun had me believe the former might join up with the main party as a nod to being there by the latter from beginning to end of Legion Mate, being both characters harbouring regrets (if Kai-kun were to regret that his IF life takes away from the happiness of the Outside World characters).
I just really, really, really love this scene. That is all.
Bless for highlighting the irony in the KaiAi units being adversaries.
Did I mention this is joint-favourite IF epi with epi 7? It’s not, it is and here’s one of many reasons why.
Reason #57 why: the battle choreography.
“Aichi Sendou isn’t the one you want to save”. Makes you wonder who was out to save the object of their regret and who was out to save themselves.
For a moment, had believed Naoki was not-dying (Retiring?) and being returned to the Outside World, somewhat surprised it hasn’t been utilized more beyond the Ultra Rare teams diving into the Akashic Book from.
Very Soft Cardfight. That is all.
Somewhere, original continity Naoki is screaming.
Tell this to your Link Joker self, please.
IF 18
On the one hand, Kai-kun walking around in Miyaji (with or without the context of IF), on the other hand, Bushi Eats.
Probably due to cracks coming from him getting a glimpse of the original reality, but Shingo cares an enormous amount for someone who, just a couple of episodes ago, said all the products in Card Capital were going to make him lose his mind.
“Awful big brother”. Laughs with shovel. (Comparatively, he’s brother of the year.)
PEDAL FASTER.
Love how Masaki and Shinji are named to overlap with their brothers’.
He’s going to fucking murder you.
[Kourin voice] Aichi is tired. [Me voice] As am I of your bullshit.
Wingal took so much time to train that it was only on his third appearance that he didn’t attack anyone. Also soft? So very soft.
NO THAT’S SO CUTE DAMN IT.
I have so much to say about Aichi missing Emi but also she’s barged in twice and you blasted out our of the castle on both occasions. Bullshit.
Do not pull the Legion Mate with me, boy.
Is he super dissociated because how do you even in the face of this?
It’s not just that he shouted her name, but the tone of his voice shouting at her. Thinking about just how extreme it is in comparison to the Aichi she knows and has kept company is pretty chilling.
Just how aggressive Aichi has become within the IF World is alarming; on only two occasions has he let anger get the better of him and one of those two wasn’t so bad. If this is to play on how warped he was going into the fight with Ibuki, good play on the writers’ part.
Semi-related to the above; with exception of three characters (Emi, Rati and Voidkuto), Aichi’s always used honorifics, and attached one to Kourin’s name, so to hear him address her without one is jarring, for lack of a better word.
THE BIG RED FLAG: Aichi’s expression in seeing Kourin having acted of her own accord (and potentially disobey him) smacks of two things:
— his perceived crumbling control over the Sanctuary Knights, coupled with Naoki and Shingo’s desertion (his lack of reaction to the latter is bizarre, as it lends itself to and could bolster his hatred of Vanguard)
— insinuates he never had control, but was allowed to think that he did. There’ll be a section beneath 19, which itself does a lot to fuel the flames of this suspicion, that will consolidate thoughts and the theory that’s been brewing since this episode last week.
On the subject of 19, Miwa being so nonchalant and passive about everything makes a lot more sense.
Let the girls fight physically more.
UBW Archer Class Meme-y Dialogue tingles.
Naoki and Shingo holding down the fort is very sweet, particularly when Shingo was alone in that task last time.
IF 19
Alarm bells rings first thing in the morning.
The irony in past Ibuki preventing Kai-kun going to Aichi after the past dozen episodes, there are no words.
Odd that the caveat of meeting yourself from another point in time presents itself when it didn’t occur in the first two episodes, unless, at least in this case, it applies only to past events.
There’s trying not to yell FGO at things and then there’s brain yelling “Lostbelt!” at Ibuki.
Rekka and Ren’s appearances gives me hope they’ll resurface; the main characters and audience know where their target is, so would like to think word will somehow get to them. (Speaking of. Nome? Where the fuck are you during all this?)
Episode loves playing with unsettling sights, very fitting for messing Ibuki’s head around, but simultaneously, making it apparent just how much of a threat Kourin specifically is.
— On a related note: Kourin beats out Ren, Leon, Sera, Voidkuto and IF Aichi to have the most nightmarish face and I Am Afraid. Give Aichi a face like that al you’ll irreparably wound my psyche.
Intense Vibrating. They’re setting up Ibuki’s Deleting Aichi is relevant, it was the only one Kourin didn’t touch on in the episode and I am burning.
How dare you montage their time together with that music and then cut to this!
Did everyone else forget Jammers were a thing or was it just me being dumb?
Everyday I relate to Kai Toshiki.
Just going to appreciate Kai-kun gushing over giant robots in the middle of battle.
Kai-kun!Blaster Blade vs Greion giving me intense flashbacks to Aichi watching Kai-kun’s image in Blaster Blade sacrificing himself to try and fend off Greion just before he got Deleted and SCREAMS.
— Once that fight is brought up directly, if you listen, you’ll hear Rena screaming in the distance.
If there’s anyone who has no room to talk it’s Miss This Thirsty For Aichi. Also when did you two switch places of tease and teased?
“Oh shit, he’s going to Delete Kai-kun”. “Oh okay, false alarm, thank G—” “OH NO SHIT HE’S ACTUALLY GOING TO DO IT!”
— On an actual note, seeing the three regrets prominent in this season all take separate routes is interesting; Shuka working to correct her wrongs in the present and moving ahead, Naoki trying to travel back and alter things from the point of origin and Ibuki being twisted to no longer feel regret, seek repentence and rather to repeat his actions.
— Ibuki vs Aichi flashbacks intensify.
— Also, mid-fall dab.
Double Agent Miwa is a blessing, who knew his acting skills were so good? Although the begs the question (if he was flat-out planted as a mole) how he earned Kourin and/or Aichi’s trust to become a Sanctuary Knight in the first place
IF 20 preview: HYPE! HYPE! HYPE!
Theoryland (Screaming):
Miwa being Takuto or Nome’s Outside World partner:
In both Rekka and Suiko’s cases, there was a companion venturing in alongside them, both of whom are friends of Kai-kun and the same age. Perhaps, Miwa may have been in league with one of the Tatsunagi brothers (having determined Aichi’s motivation and Kai-kun’s position in all this, calling on his closest friend to match the girls’ partners) through whom he gained insight into the situation and moved in order to protect Kai-kun; working from the inside to weasel information out of the others, understand how they operate, monitor their activities to keep Kai-kun out of their sights, (find Takuto, if with Nome) and maybe (find a means to or actively make an effort himself to) drag Aichi out of his current state. It may be that, instead of Sanctuary, his abduction of Kai-kun had the destination of a rendezvous with Nome until the girls’ interference and the entire incident went off the rails.
Aichi as a puppet king and Kourin the true human antagonist:
Since his expression in seeing Kourin on the offensive without his say-so, it’s been on my mind that Aichi hasn’t actually been in a position of power whatsoever throughout IF, but he’s been led to believe he is, and the act might be withering. As "original" memories factor into it and Ultra Rare’s were lost at the end of the main Reboot continuity plot, it’s possible they may be on the line as they were in Link Joker/Legion Mate.
— As she’s aware there are such memories, it’s possible that they were triggered into resurfacing when Takuto appeared within IF World and encountered her and Aichi, leading to his capture and confinement, so as not to cause any further damage to the world fabricated.
— Alternatively, she might be acting in order to keep the force (a Brandt remnant remains my personal suspicion) that has Aichi in his current state at bay. Her unease in seeing him hanging above the scene outside Sanctuary as she attacked the others might suggest that she was worried it could break loose, as she’s never been one to be rattled. This is why “human” was specified above, because whatever the case, any corruption in Aichi is evidently the overarching antagonist force.
Additionally, throughout the season, Kourin has been fiercely territorial around Aichi, speaking and acting on his behalf, while keeping the other Sanctuary Knights at an arm’s distance. She alone enters his private quarters, sees him in pain, and (no, haven’t given up entirely on the right eye thing, there have been other people around when he’s outside his Alfred form and it was visible) privy to any secret circulating him (as well as IF’s true nature), while keeping the others in teh dark. Her reasoning may be wanting to keep him under he thumb or prevent whatever’s inside/in control of him from running rampant.
And in regards to Ibuki, Aichi made the declaration about casting him elsewhere, but Kourin was the one who enacted it, and the sole player in manipulating him to switch sides. There’s no certainty that Aichi is even aware, much like he might not be conscious of Naoki’s betrayal.
— Her being responsible for recruiting might also explain why Misaki was never a Sanctuary Knight: Kourin desired she have an ordinary, happy life, not unlike Aichi’s wish for Kai-kun.
In a truly ironic turnabout, it looks to be that Kourin is IF’s Sera.
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newfragile yellows [954]
“Alright, we got everyone out, mostly in one piece.” Max turns around, looking at them all and pausing to grimace at Herah’s bruising face. “Well. Mostly.”
“Fuck off Trevelyan, let's get the fuck out of here. The faster we're out of Kirkwall the better I’ll feel about this. Come on, let’s move.”
“Something’s wrong,” Bull says, scowling as he eyes the area around them. “This isn’t right. It’s too easy.”
“Evelyn got hit by a car, Herah was beat up by five people at once, and we’ve had to fight our way through half a sewer system and several highly trained armed guards,” Sera says, “After, like, literal months of planning this heist. Literal months of planting equipment, getting people in, slowly rigging the security systems and arranging patrols to get us this opening. And you’re calling that shit easy?”
“We just robbed the Hawke family,” Bull says, “We walked into their family estate and robbed them of one of the most treasured pieces of artwork in their entire collection during their mother’s birthday party. Yes, I’m saying that was too easy. When the Hawke’s are concerned, when do plans ever go right? We should’ve had to fight our way through half the damn city trying to get into the Hawke’s good graces or at least somewhere lower on their shit list. They’ve got about five mabari. They’ve got Aveline. They’ve got the Blue fuckin’ Wraith. They have Isabela. How come we haven’t run into a single one of them?”
Everyone else hesitates for a moment, letting Bull’s points sink in.
“We’ve got to move,” Herah says, breaking the silence and grabbing both Evelyn and her brother by the napes of their necks and pushing them further along. “I do not want to find out how badly this can go sideways.”
Before anyone can take another step a loud crack of a single shot going off echoes through the night, and the stone pathway in front of them cracks as the bullet ricochets off of the paving right in front of the Iron Bull.
Bull’s head snaps to the side to look up and scan the building rooftops as everyone else dives for cover.
“Oh fuck,” Bull says, when he spots the shooter.
“Who is it? It’s not Varric, is it?” Edric asks.
“It’s my wife,” Bull says.
“Your what?” Sera and Max exclaim as Evelyn turns her gaze onto Herah.
“His what?”
“Oh fuck, we’re fucked,” Herah says, raising her head to follow the Iron Bull’s gaze. “How bad did you ghost her?”
“Not that bad. I’m more concerned about the fact that the Hawke’s have my wife, sharpshooter expert on their payroll and we’ve got a straight run with very little cover,” Bull replies.
Everyone looks up to the rooftop, where a thin looking figure is standing and a sniper rifle. She waves, before putting down the rifle and picking up something much larger, and much, much more lethal looking.
“Are you fuckin’ sure it wasn’t that bad?” Herah snarls, “Tell me you still have her number.”
“You want me to call my wife as she’s about to launch a grenade at us?” Bull retorts, “Fuckin’ run. The first shot was professional courtesy and her being in a good mood. Second shot isn’t going to miss.”
“One,” Sera flips Bull off as they all bolt in the direction of their getaway car, “You got married? What the fuck? And then you ghosted her? And for some reason you think it wasn’t that bad?”
“When was this for context?” Max asks.
“When they got married or when he ghosted his wife?” Herah asks.
“Both,” Everyone else answers.
“They got married like six years ago,” Kaaras answers for Bull, “It as an accident. Mostly.”
“We were faking marriage so I could get into a certain venue and so she could have a paper trail for a fake identity to provide to some guy she was trying to con,” Bull says, “They weren’t supposed to actually get filed and officiated.”
“And then they never got the marriage invalidated,” Herah says, “And then, like, four years ago? Three years ago? Bull suddenly turns up in Fereldan with his crew but without her like nothing ever happened and just doesn’t talk about it. So what the fuck happened, Bull?”
“Don’t tell me you went out to buy milk and just never went back,” Max groans.
“Shut up and run,” Bull snaps, grimacing at the heavy sound of an explosion just behind them. “Fuck, she’s just playing with us now. She’s always had a bad habit of goofing off on a job when she’s confident. We’ve been played. The Hawke’s absolutely knew about this and they’ve got something fuck-all nasty waiting for us.”
“Why is your wife in Kirkwall?” Kaaras asks, “Please call her. I’m scared. Your wife and her family scare me and you know that. And if that family has happened to intersect with the Hawke family I want to surrender and hope that her grudges against you don’t spill over to me.”
“She’s from a crime family?”
“Strictly speaking, no, but there’s a lot of them in that family who’ve got ties to people on this side of things. Most of them are hitmen. Oh, fuck. Don’t tell me her brother is here.”
As they round the corner, they’re treated by the sight of the Blue Wraith himself leaning against their getaway car, arms crossed and looking incredibly bored.
“Bull. Adaars.”
“Fenris.”
“You might want to give your wife a call,” Fenris suggests. “And also return the painting.”
“But we’ve worked so hard to steal it,” Max says.
Bull sighs as he pulls out his phone, entering the number he never bothered to forget.
“Bull.”
“Ellana. You’re working for the Hawke’s?”
“Yup. Hired extra security for their mom’s party,” Ellana replies. “You working with the Cadash’s?”
“Yup. Needed extra insight for this heist. Hey, is any of this related to me leaving?”
There’s a pause, and Bull can just imagine the face Ellana’s making as the wheels in her mind spin on that thought. Finally she says, sounding hesitant, “No, why would it be?”
“I don’t know. It’s just that everyone seems to think that. Made me have doubts. It isn’t?”
“Nah. We’re good. This is just work, you know? It’s not personal. But now that you mention it — “
“Here we go.”
“You have a forwarding address I can send your mail to?”
“I thought I changed everything,” Bull frowns, trying to think if he’s missed any bills or important documents.
“Well. You didn’t. I’ve kind of just been hanging onto some of your mail, apparently no one believes we’ve separated because we haven’t filed.”
“You could’ve filed without me.”
“The tax benefits. And insurance.”
“Ah, right.” Bull sighs. “I’ll text you my new address. Aside from that, we good?”
“We’ve been good. Though I do miss your sparkling commentary on movie night. I’ve mostly just been imagining your part of the dialogue whenever I watch movies now. We should get together sometime, get lunch, catch up. I hear about you sometimes from the Adaars but it’s not really a lot. Oh, and. Well. You do have to return that painting.”
Bull eyes Fenris who raises a silver eyebrow at him and makes a ‘hand it over’ motion.
“Can we agree to disagree on that part?” Bull asks.
“Babes.”
“Yeah, I figured. So. Fight?”
“Yup. Fight.”
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Day 10: Surprise Kiss (14 Days of DA Lovers)
(From the as-yet-untitled modern au I’ve been developing with @johaeryslavellan, featuring her OC Inky Tristan and my OC Inky Aran. Surprise!)
[Tristan:]
“Run this by me again?” Tristan said, straightening Aran’s bow tie for the third time, “We just say ‘yes’ to whatever is suggested? By whoever?”
Aran nodded. “Barring the items on this list,” he tapped. “No public sex, no strangers, no drugs.” He lifted his brows, “Anything else you want to add?”
“If something comes up, I can still veto?”
“Tris,” he cupped Tristan’s cheek. “Yes. You can always veto anything, even if we’re not playing a game.”
Tristan hummed, nodding slowly. “Okay. Then I’m fine.” He ducked his head to hide a smile, “Let's do it.”
“Yes!” Aran hopped up and down, “I have been wanting to do this with you for years!”
“Don’t be indecent,” Tristan kissed him lightly. “Let’s go.”
“You like my games!” Aran cheered, “I hoped you’d like my games.”
“I like some of them,” the taller man rolled his eyes as they headed to the front door.
“Most.”
“Maybe.”
Sera huffed, “Finally. Maker, how long does it take you two to put clothes on?”
“When we take them off first?” Aran asked, grinning. “A while.”
“Have fun,” Cole waved from the couch, cuddling his bowl of popcorn and settling in to watch his documentary about sea lions.
“First one of the night is yours, Cole,” Aran winked. “Yes, we will have fun!”
“Yes, we will,” Tristan echoed.
The night was snow-flocked, the glowing street lights reflecting brightly off the glittering white. Aran tucked his hand into the pocket of Tristan’s coat, twining their fingers together as they strolled down the street. Something about the snow made everything feel quieter, calmer, even though they could hear music and laughter from the others out and about, sharing the evening with them.
“So we just walk?” Tristan asked, glancing to his side where Aran and Sera walked arm in arm.
“Yep.”
“And… ‘let the universe guide us’.”
“Yep.”
“And what happens if it doesn’t?”
“Then it guides us to walk for a long time in the snow, together, and that’s great,” Aran smiled up at him.
Tristan chuckled, kissing him on the forehead. “Okay.”
And they did walk. Straight forward, up the high street, through the park towards campus.
“Hey! Do you guys like comedy?”
Aran grinned, nudging Tristan in the side.
“Yes, we do,” Tristan turned to the student with her stack of fliers.
“Really?” The young woman asked, blinking. “No one ever says yes.”
“We love comedy,” Aran echoed.
“That’s- oh, that’s great! Well, we’ve got two for one drinks at the Seed Club if you pay a cover charge of five royals for the show. Stand up, all night.”
“Right! Give us the flier.” Sera snapped her fingers and accepted the paper from the girl. “Thank you! Good luck!”
“Thank you!”
“See? We made her night,” Aran grinned as they headed in the direction of the Seed Club.
The Seed Club was a tiny, dark space down a flight of stairs from the street. The trio carried their drinks, double-fisted, to a small table and sat down as the comic was finishing his act.
“Next up, we have the Wise-cracking Wizard, Willem the Foe!”
Sera cheered loudly, stomping her feet, as Aran clapped and Tristan toasted the stage with his watered-down gin.
“Thank you! Thank you!” Willem stammered, flushed. “Everyone having a good night?”
“Yes!” they called back, laughing.
“Great! Great! So, I’ve got a few jokes here. Seeing as how… it’s a comedy show. So.” He shuffled some cards in his hands, “Okay. So, yesterday, my best friend auditioned to be the trumpet player in an orchestra. He blew it.”
Sera snickered.
“I bet everyone wants to hear a joke about ghosts, right?” Aran cheered, making Willem blush, “That's the spirit!”
“Oh, Maker,” Tristan finished his first glass and eyed the two idiots chortling beside him. Three comics and nine terrible drinks later, he was resting his chin in his hands and wondering if he should have agreed to Truth or Dare at home. Only… the idiots were having so much fun. Maybe he just needed to… embrace his inner idiot. But hadn’t he already done that, just agreeing to this silliness to begin with? The key must be to commit. Just commit whole-heartedly to the game. The game was the thing that was fun, not the terrible comedians.
“Oh, hey! Do you remember that joke I told you about my spine?”
“Yes!” he called.
The guy on stage paused, squinting into the audience to stare at him. “Uh…” he cleared his throat, finishing lamely: “It was… it was about a weak back.”
Aran ducked his head, laughing into his hand.
“You guys fucking with me?”
“Yes!” Sera grinned.
“Seriously. This shit isn’t easy, okay? You think you can do better?”
They looked at each other, then looked at Tristan.
He sighed, “Yes.”
“Fuck you!”
“Point of order: was that a question?” Sera asked.
“No, knife-ear, that was a fuck you. You wanna fight me, bitch?”
She narrowed her eyes, “I didn’t. But now? Oh, yeah.” She stood up.
Tristan scowled, rising. “Just apologize and we’ll go.”
“Me apologize? Screw you; you fucked up my set.”
“I may have done. But that doesn’t give you the right to speak to my friend that way. So apologize to her. Then I’ll apologize to you. And then we’ll leave.”
“Sure.” He turned to Sera, holding his hands out, “Bite me, you knife-eared whore.”
Tristan growled under his breath and then swore as Aran scrambled over the table and towards the stage. He grabbed hold of Aran, hoisting him back before he could leap onto the guy. “Calm down.”
“He wants to fight, let me fight him,” Aran spat.
Tristan struggled to hold him, gritting his teeth as he watched Sera as if in slow motion approach the stage just as the emcee hurried up to guide the ‘comedian’ off the stage. “Right! Okay! So we’re going to take a little intermission and be back with more laugh attacks in ten minutes.”
Sera snapped her teeth as the guy was guided forcibly from the stage. “He deserved a good bite.”
“We are… so, so sorry,” the manager hurried over to them. “They’re all first-timers. Not everyone knows how to respond to crowds, but I swear, we don’t allow for any racism here. We absolutely don’t approve of that language.”
“Good.”
“Can we offer you anything? Free drink passes, maybe!”
Sera stared at her, “...yes,” she muttered.
“Great! Thank you so much!” She held out a handful of cards, “We sincerely apologize and promise we will make sure nothing like this happens again.”
“Yes,” Sera pocketed the passes and headed towards the door. “Let’s go, okay?”
“Yes,” Aran agreed, walking with her up to the street.
“Shit,” Tristan sighed as they stepped into the snow. “I’m sorry. I was trying to play along. I didn’t think-“
“That the shit jester would be a racist prick? I think that was a surprise to everyone, right.” Sera rolled her eyes, waving to a couple heading in past them. “Hey, you two want free drinks?” She offered the passes to the grateful pair. “Okay, what next?”
“We go home?” Tristan asked.
“Home?!” Sera exclaimed. “On ‘say yes’ night? Pfffft.”
“You still want to play? After all that?”
“Of course! I’m not going to let him ruin the game.” She tucked her arm through his, “But let’s not stay here, because they’re probably going to kick the dickhead out and, if he talks to me again, I will bite him.”
Tristan nodded, noting Aran simmering. “Your call, Sera. Right or left.”
“Left,” she decided and started off with him in tow.
“Aran?”
Aran’s scowled, trudging along behind them, casting dark looks back over his shoulder. “They’re going to give him a slap on the wrist and let him go on being an asshole.”
“Yeah, well.”
“It’s fucking irritating.”
“Yep.” Sera wiggled her fingers back at him and scooped him up to her other side. “Now let it go. Ah ah- no-“ she shook his head, “It wasn’t you he called names, right. I get to say how we react; we’re letting it go because tonight is ‘say yes’ night and that means you have to.”
Aran exhaled hard but chucked his chin in the barest approximation of a nod. “Fine.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
“Either of you ever licked a lamppost in winter?” she asked cheerily.
“Veto!” Tristan rushed, “I veto that. I don’t want to spend the night in hospital.”
She snickered. “Fine. Clinic? If there are assholes there, Bull can deal with them.”
Tristan glanced at Aran, then nodded. “Agreed. The Clinic.”
[Aran:]
“I’m sorry,” Aran whispered as they followed Sera through the phone booth in the back of the laundromat and down the stairs into the Clinic.
“For what?”
“I was mad at you for not letting me hit that guy.” Aran chewed his lip. “But you were right. That would have been stupid.”
“Not stupid,” Tristan disagreed. “Just more trouble than he was worth. And our job is to support her as much as she wants us to. She could have taken him. He would have deserved it if she had.”
Aran kissed his shoulder. “Thank you for being my voice of reason.”
“Thank you for teaching me to be impulsive.” Tristan tilted his chin up, peering down at him with a long, slow look that hit Aran like a barrel of rich bourbon.
“Kiss me?” Aran asked quietly.
“Yes,” Tristan breathed with feeling and kissed him until he thought he might float right off the ground.
“Can’t leave you alone for two minutes,” Sera griped.
Aran braced himself against Tristan, inhaling and exhaling slowly and carefully. “Dizzy.”
“No shit. Come on; the game’s still on.” She dragged them both bodily after her into the bar. “You get drinks.” She shoved Aran towards the bar. “You change the music,” she shoved Tristan towards the old jukebox. “Have to keep them separated,” she winked at Bull.
“They give you any trouble, Sera, you just let me know.”
“Yes, I will! Hear that, boys?”
“Bossy,” Aran pouted, heading for the bar. The crowd was thick, but pleasant. He wound his way past familiar faces and hopped up to sit on the end of the bar to wait his turn.
“Hi, I’m Klewin.”
Aran glanced from the hand up to the smiling face of the redhead. “Hi, Klewin. I’m Aran.”
“Good to meet you, Aran.”
“Same.”
“So… you come here often?” Aran winced internally for the stranger. “I’m just wondering if sitting on the bar is a thing we’re all allowed to do.”
“Ooh,” Aran laughed. “Good save.”
“Thank you; I try. So, is it?”
Aran shrugged. “I think as long as you don’t stand on it, you’re okay. The bartender gets a mite tetchy about scuff marks.”
Klewin climbed up on the bar next to him. “It’s like you can see everything from up here.”
He grinned, “That’s pretty much why I sit here. Otherwise, it’s all chins and bobbing heads.”
“Tops of heads are much better.”
“Yeah,” Aran bit his lip on a laugh. “Sometimes.”
“Hey, you.” Anders brushed his spine, “Inviting other people to your perch?”
“Apparently. Klewin, this is Anders. Anders, Klewin. Klewin was just telling me he likes looking at the tops of peoples’ heads.”
“I’m so sorry, that sounded way more perverted than I meant it to.”
Aran winked. “See? I found you a pervert. Where’s my reward?”
Anders laughed, tugging him down to kiss his cheek. “I thought you were having a night out.”
“I am out; it is night. I have been tasked with procuring the drinks.”
“Okay, what’ll it be?”
“Yes.”
Anders lifted his brows. “It’s ‘yes’ night?”
Aran grinned, “Yes.”
“He’s letting you do ‘yes’ night?”
Aran wiggled his brows. “Yes.”
“Oh, this is priceless.”
“What’s ‘yes night’?” Klewin asked.
Anders poked Aran in the chest, “You go find a place to sit and I’ll send Lace to you with drinks.” He leaned to Klewin, “You stay right there and try to think of other terrible pick up lines. I’ll be right back.”
“Nice to meet you,” Aran shook Klewin’s hand. “Have fun!”
“What’s ‘yes night’, though?”
[Tristan:]
Tristan frowned at the jukebox, listening as the first notes of the song soaked into the chatter and laughter.
“Not your usual taste, is it?”
He turned to find Dorian smiling down at him from the row of booths above. “Trying new things tonight. Almost fought a comedian earlier.”
Dorian gazed down at him with mock-horror. “There’s a story. Come up and tell it to me?”
Tristan glanced towards the bar to see Aran laughing with a guy sporting a mop of red hair. Talking. Just talking. No strangers, they’d agreed. He trusted Aran. He’d gotten used to seeing him with Anders more and more, but still… still, it ached to see him free and easy with other other people. That was different. “Yes,” he said softly, crossing around to the stairs and settling in across from Dorian. He cleared his throat, “So, there’s a game.”
“A game about fighting comedians?”
“About saying yes.”
“Ah.” Dorian tapped his ear, “I see.”
“Right.”
“Seems like something that might get one into a host of trouble. Indiscriminately agreeing to things.”
Tristan chuckled wryly, looking down. “I think that might be part of the point.”
Dorian hummed softly. “Not enjoying the game overmuch?”
“It’s easier for them,” Tristan sighed, tracing drink rings on the table. “Sometimes I think everything is.”
“Do you?”
He shrugged. “Free as the wind, damn the consequences…” he shook his head. “I suppose I just don’t like risk as much.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“No. I know.” Tristan smiled weakly. “But there are some benefits to taking risks. I learned that with you, didn’t I?”
Dorian smoothed his fingers over his mustache, concealing the curve of his lips even as his eyes twinkled. “There is that.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Tristan sighed. “It’s just… more difficult. And that makes me feel like a bit of a buzzkill sometimes.” He cleared his throat, “Sorry. A buzzkill and a downer. What, uh, what were you doing here?”
“You needn’t apologize to me.”
Tristan glanced up, nodding. “Thanks.”
“Here you are!” Aran rounded the corner of the booth with a wide grin. “What’d I miss?”
“I picked a song.”
“Good choice,” Aran dropped to rest his chin on the edge of the table. “Are we sitting here?”
“Yes,” Dorian said before Tristan could speak up. “I hear that’s the name of the game.” He glanced at Tristan with a small nod. “If that’s all right?”
Aran drummed the table, laughing, “Yes! More the merrier!” He stepped up onto the booth and waved towards the bar, pointing down, then hopped off and dropped into the booth beside Dorian, facing Tristan. “Anders said he’d send us drinks when I found a seat. Where’s Sera?”
Tristan shrugged, eyeing Dorian curiously. His heart thundered in his chest. Had he ever seen them side by side like this? His two boyfriends. How had he come to have two boyfriends in a matter of months, after so long on his own? Of course, the answer was obvious, staring at him with a wide, crooked grin.
Aran. Topsy-turvy, risk-taking, free-wheeling Aran with his strange games and wild impulses and long-winded pontifications on syntax and rhyme when all Tristan saw was the beauty of the poem. Aran, covered in constellations he couldn’t appreciate and scars he wasn’t ashamed of. Aran, who was happily explaining the rules of his game to Dorian, including him, bringing him in, welcoming Tristan’s other heart-holder with open arms, like he did everyone. A living embrace.
And Dorian… Dorian who was always so careful and clever, joining into risk-taking mischief… for him, he realized. To keep him company. To just be with him. Even though he’d been warned. Dorian, who saw layers to the world beyond what others saw, and who saw layers of Tristan beyond what others saw, too. Dorian, debonair and devious, dark to Aran’s light, both of them so incredibly comfortable in their own skin.
Dorian tapped his fingers against his, smiling with a small comforting nod, and Tristan walked his fingers up to play with the rings on his fingers, watching Aran’s smile deepen. Maker, he really was happy for him. For them both. Of course, he’d said as much, been supportive every step of the way, but it was different to watch him watch. Nothing but pure, clear pleasure in those eyes, softening in appreciation. Months he’d been listening to Aran tell him that he loved him. Days and nights he’d felt the words and meaning shiver through and over him. And again and again, he found he’d underestimated his friend. He kept expecting him to love less than he claimed. There were many little things Aran did that drove him mad and got under his skin, but this… this look, this truth… Truth. Trust. He bit his lip and studied Dorian’s rings as Lace arrived with a tray of drinks. “Chef’s Special,” she announced.
Aran smiled, a little wistful, and stood up. “Thanks. Seen Sera?”
“Yup,” Lace smiled. “I’m stealing her now; you are my last table of the evening. There’s a late showing of Terra Fauna at the Regency I wanted to see and she said she’d join me. That’s okay, isn’t it? She said something about having to agree to things.”
“Yes, of course!” Aran nodded eagerly. “Craic on! Those are the rules!”
“I’ll have to ask her about them,” she laughed, serving out the glasses and accepting the tip Aran tucked into her apron. “Thanks.”
“Aye.” Aran picked up one of the glasses and toasted them lightly. “And you as well: have fun,” he winked.
“Where are you going?” Tristan asked quietly.
“Oh,” Aran shrugged. “Dunno. Wandering. No worries.”
“Aran.”
“Seriously, mate, it’s totally- it’s great, yeah? I know this isn’t your thing. It’s been a weird one. We can catch up later.”
“Stay here.”
“Tris,” Aran cleared his throat. “It’s not a big deal.”
He held out a hand, feeling his heart thudding loud in his ears. “Will you stay here?” he asked, lifting his brows.
Aran chewed his lip, glancing between them. “...yes?” he asked quietly.
“Right answer.”
He dropped down into the booth beside Dorian, ears red with awkward pleasure that reminded Tristan of a dozen moments he’d caught his friend off guard before. Happy. He was happy. Happy to leave. Happier to stay. He swiped his fingers across his eyes, busying himself with moving the glasses to their respective spots. “Well. I guess this means you get Sera’s drink,” he told Dorian.
“I guess I do.”
Tristan cleared his throat, flexing his hand silently, the rings of the tree wiggling with the motion. And he watched Aran’s lip tremble as he bit it. Fuck, he thought, that is love. How much is he still holding back? How much has he still not shown me? Aran stretched out his left hand, pressing their matching palms together with a squeeze.
“So, boys night out,” he joked, not willing to admit he was weepy. He lifted his glass. “Toast?”
Tristan squeezed both their hands, feeling the bass from the jukebox and the thud of his pulse from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. “To what?”
“You?” Aran nudged Dorian’s shoulder. “We should toast to him, right?”
“I have to say ‘yes’, don’t I?” Dorian teased.
“Catches on quick, this one. Might even get a doctorate someday.”
Dorian chuckled, lifting his fresh glass, “To Tristan, then.”
“I don’t have a free hand,” Tristan wrinkled his nose.
“Madman,” Aran laughed. “You can’t toast yourself, mate; you’d be a narcissist.”
“Can’t have that,” Dorian agreed.
“Void and Dark, can you imagine if he admitted how wonderful he is?”
“We’d never hear the end of it.”
“Day in, day out,” Aran grinned. “The endless list.”
“Talented,” Dorian sighed.
“Oh, sure. Talented. Sporting!”
“Right. Clever.”
“Too clever by half!”
“By three quarters!”
They clinked glasses as Tristan felt air rushing through his ears. Through them? Into them? Under them? His chest was vibrating. Was that the music? The bass?
“We can't even start on the looks, can we?” Aran asked, crossing his eyes.
“Oh, we shouldn’t,” Dorian shook his head. “We’d be here all night.”
“I mean, his hair alone would take a night, aye?”
Dorian nodded sagely. “And then the eyes.”
“Forget it!” Aran squeezed his hand, warm. Watching. Flushed with his ability to make him blush. “And that spot just below the ear,” he whistled under his breath. “It’d take me a solid day to register everything I liked about it.”
“Right or left?”
“Tough call,” Aran hissed. “Left?”
“You take left, I’ll take right. We can save a day of our lives right there;” Dorian’s dark eyes danced with delight.
“Sharing is caring.”
“Oh, if you like each other so much, you should just kiss and get it over with.”
They stared at him and Tristan could not blame them at all. He would have stared at himself if he could. In fact, he had a sudden strangling urge to run for the nearest water closet and stare in the mirror screaming ‘what? What? What was that? Where did that come from?’
Then he watched as Aran, as if in slow-motion, turned to Dorian and tilted his head, “Well. I mean… the game is ‘say yes’. I don’t make the rules.”
And Dorian watched him for a moment longer, curious, and dampened his lower lip. “Get it over with, yes?”
“That’s what he said.”
“Very well.” Dorian coughed into the back of his hand, eyeing Aran. “Right or left?”
Aran shrugged, eyes crossing, “Dunno.” He tilted his head back and forth, and landed to the left, “Here’s good. That work?”
Dorian snorted softly, “It’s a ridiculous game.”
“Yeah, that’s the idea.”
“Ah well.” Dorian leaned forward and brushed his lips over Aran’s.
And Tristan felt his heart stop.
[Aran:]
Aran blinked, then blinked again, staring at Dorian’s eyelids as lips brushed against his. He could have sworn Tristan was going to say something, call it off, veto. He’d been preparing jokes, teases… he couldn’t remember any of them at the moment, but he was sure there’d been… something… funny. Something funny about this. Something… What must it be like for them to kiss each other? Did rose petals cascade from the ceiling whenever they touched lips? Did Chantry bells chime sweetly on distant hills? How could something this light and lingering be so bloody pleasant? It wasn’t fair at all. Life was unfair and cruel. But at least now he would be able to think about this every time he sent Tristan off for his dates. What nice, fond thoughts those would be. Maker, his brows were sculpted, weren’t they? Not a hair out of place, even this close. How was that possible? And his eyelashes were long. Longer than they seemed. Dark and soft like ravens’ feathers.
Oh, breathing.
He needed to breathe. He inhaled quickly, lips parting with the sudden effort and then there was… lips and tongue and tongue, Maker save him, slick and hot and tasting of the gin cocktail Anders had thoughtfully sent over for the one bloke who hadn’t even tasted it. His eyes fluttered closed, weak, and he could feel his knee starting to quake under the table like a dog who’s had his neck scratched just right, and it was just right.
I did good, he congratulated himself silently as his breath was drawn out of him like smoke from incense. Oh, I did very good. I should set people up professionally. Tristan owes me at least a bottle of whisky for nudging him in the direction of this. This is… brilliant.
[Dorian:]
Brilliant. Dorian felt Aran’s lips part beneath his, the quick intake of breath, chilling. Brilliant, cold, diaphanous. The chip of ice still melting on the back of the fellow’s tongue. The sweetness of juniper curling around the smoke of whiskey. It shouldn’t have mixed well, but it did, perhaps due to the innate scent of fresh soil and southern evergreens that invaded his senses as he breathed. Breathed and tasted and took. He hadn’t expected the lips to be quite so soft, given the way the man terrorized them with his teeth. Nor had he expected them to give beneath his like snow melting under rain, given the intensity of his energy. But there he was, soft and folding and brilliant. Unexpected. Interesting. He leaned, twining his tongue against Aran’s, investigating, and found him more pliant still. Bending, breathing, a small coil of sound more vibration than noise curling up the length of his tongue to his own, buzzing his lips and humming down his own throat like a game of telephone. A game, he reminded himself, suddenly aware of the rapid pulse beneath his fingertips. Tristan’s pulse. Tristan’s hand still clasped with his as he… as he… He swam upwards out of sensation, breaking free with a gasp, and turned to find Tristan gaping at them open-mouthed.
To his right, he felt Aran sag, winded, against the back of the booth. “Right,” he breathed, sounding as shaken as Dorian felt. Sounding more willing to shrug and shake it off than Dorian was certain he could manage. “Well. That was a surprise. Good play.” He downed the rest of his glass in a single swig. “I’ll get another round, aye?”
He moved, then paused, caught. Anchored by Tristan’s unyielding grip on his hand.
Dorian touched his tongue to the back of his teeth, still feeling the cold sear of the kiss. “Tristan,” he murmured, searching the man’s expression. Maker, but he was always difficult to read, but this didn’t seem good. Eyes too wide. Lips still parted. Breath short. Pulse arhythmic beneath his fingers.
“Tris?” Aran asked softly, sliding back into the booth. “You just… take your time, okay?”
Dorian glanced at him, surprised by the sudden tenderness. The way he cupped Tristan’s hand between his own like something fragile and priceless. All his seemingly boundless energy suddenly focused and intent, pouring into the hand and the man it belonged to. ‘Sharing is caring’, he’d said.
“Just… give it a minute,” he said with a small nod. “It’s okay. Tris? Heart of my heart, you’ve got to breathe, mate, aye? Just breathe for me, love. Nice and slow.”
Tristan blinked slowly, swallowed visibly. Inhaled over a count of four and exhaled the same.
Dorian glanced between them, feeling the pulse continue to rush beneath his fingers. “Tristan…”
“Can you…” Tristan looked down, his gaze flicking between his hands clasping each of theirs.
“Anything,” Aran breathed, “Anything you need.”
Dorian nodded. “Truly.”
“Can you…” Tristan glanced up at them, cheeks stained red. “Can you do that again?”
#14DALovers#14 Days DA Lover's Prompts#14days#surprise kiss prompt#modern au#dragon age fanfiction#aran trevelyan#tristan trevelyan#no relation#dorian pavus#aran x tristan#tristan x dorian#aran x tristan x dorian#sera#lace harding#sera x lace harding#aran pov#tristan pov#dorian pov#mlm#wlw#slash#surprise!
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Camp Nano excerpt-7/21/19
The door opened with a bang and Hawke jerked awake sprawling onto his knees, his hand going for the knife under his pillow. His heart was still pounding in his ears when he saw Josephine wild-eyed followed by several servants. She was dressed in a rich blue dress with golden trim and sleeves. Her sleek black hair was in an elaborate bun framed with a braid.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you and you’re still asleep?” she cried, her brown eyes flashing with panic. “ The ceremony starts in 10 minutes!”
He fell face forward back into his goose-feathered pillow, leaving the knife and settled back into his memory foam mattress. Lazily he pulled the heavy cotton blankets that he kicked off back over him. “I’m skipping it,” he yawned.
“Oh no you aren’t,” Josephine grabbed his hand and started pulling him out of bed, snapping at the servants. Before he could argue his clothes were being stripped off and his hair was being fussed and he was strapped into white-steel ceremonial armor with the symbol of a red flaming sword being stabbed through a Chantry eye.
“What the- Stop, wait-” The servants were merciless, scrubbing his face, jerking him, pulling his hair.
“I knew I should have assigned someone to look out for you,” Josephine said as she typed something into her tablet. “Forgive for me saying this, Herald, but you’re absolutely hopeless.”
“Will someone tell me what’s going on? What’s with this fancy get-up? Why is it so important I be there? It’s just a stupid ceremony, I’ll find out who the Inquisitor is later.”
Josephine blinked, surprised and even the servants stopped to exchange shocked glances. “Did no one tell you?”
Tell him what? Hawke was just becoming aware of the murmur of voices overlapping outside. Still half-dressed, he followed the sound to his balcony where he saw an ocean of faces, mercenaries, Inquisition soldiers, Tal-Vashoth, Dalish, pilgrims and normal citizens. Some were carrying signs like, “Bless the Herald and may the Herald bless us,” and “Our Champion and Inquisitor.” He could even see a reporter talking to the cameraman, talking at the head of the crowd. Leliana was above them all on the staircase, where a podium with a microphone was standing at front. She was dressed in something that almost looked similar to Chantry robes, but instead of a skirt she had black slacks with expensive red heels that popped against the stone. Beside her Cullen in Templar armor stood at attention carrying a rather large greatsword that he held flat in his hands as if to present it.
“Oh no,” Hawke thought.
“The Herald,” he heard someone shout, and the crowd began to buzz as they caught sight of Hawke. Immediately people began to bring out their cellphones and cameras started flashing. The reporter caught sight of Hawke and pointed where the cameraman turned, trying to film him.
Hawke fled, his heart pounding louder than before and he turned to see Josephine and the servants eying him warily.
“Why did no one run this by me?” Hawke cried.
“We thought it was obvious,” Josephine replied approaching him. She put a reassuring hand on his arm though he could not feel it through the steel plating. “I’ve already taken the liberty of writing your speech so all you have to do is read it. Just smile. Be your confident self and you’ll be fine.”
Hawke seriously doubted that, but he didn’t have time to argue because they were already strapping on his heavy breastplate and marching him outside of his room to the audience that was waiting.
“Josephine,” his voice was high and tight, his white-steel boots dragging down the stairs. “For Maker’s sake don’t put me in front of a camera. Things always go wrong when I go in front of a camera.”
Josephine kept a firm arm around Hawke escorting him. “Everyone gets nervous. Just remember to smile.”
When they opened the door to the throne room, Cassandra was standing in similar armor but her shoulder pads weren’t as pointy and she didn’t have a ridiculous red cape that made Hawke feel like he was a cheesy superhero.
“Seeker,” he said clearing his throat.
“Good,” she said shortly taking Hawke’s other side. “Leliana is almost done with her speech.”
They walked past the throne and started marching Hawke to the giant wooden doors already open and he could see Leliana addressing the crowd.
“I thought you said I was dangerous and incompetent,” Hawke said. “Now you’re just handing me some Chantry title?”
“We will still advise you, just like before,” Josephine nodded, patting Hawke on the shoulder.
“And have you not already been leading the Inquisition?” Cassandra said, with a small wry smile. “I may not always agree with your decisions, but they let us heal the sky. Your determination brought us out of Haven. You are Corypheus’ rival because of what you did and we know it. All of us.”
Leliana glanced into Skyhold and smiled when she saw Hawke approaching. She gestured to the open doors and with her sweet orlesian accent, “It is my great honor to represent a man who needs little introduction. He has faced down the magister who brought the Blight and lived. He will lead us to victory as our Inquisitor, Lucky Hawke!”
The crowd roared in approval, deafening applause echoing through the mountain. Hawke was frozen by the sound. He would prefer to be ran through by the Arishok again. Or venture back into the Deep Roads. Hell, he’d take being buried by the avalanche.
Hawke stayed frozen, visibly shaking and so Josephine gently, but firmly escorted him to the podium before slinking back beside Leliana, like she was meant to be there. The applause quieted into silence but Hawke just stared at the sea of people and they all stared back. He could make out Varric in the front row with the rest of his Inquisition friends-Blackwall, Sera, Solas, Iron Bull, Dorian, Cole. Maker, even Madame de Fer was there, though Hawke doubted she was there in support.
Varric game him a cheesy grin and a thumbs up which Sera and Iron Bull followed. Camera’s flashed, and Hawke kept seeing spots as he was blinded.
“Uh…” he tried to jump start his brain.
“The speech,” Josephine whispered.
Hawke just noticed that there were cards in his hands with neat cursive scrawled across it, but Hawke could only make out a few words. When did she put these in his hand? Why wasn’t this typed out? He didn’t know how to read cursive.
Hawke remembered Josephine’s advice to smile so he did, trying not to look terrified as he tried to decipher the speech. The crowd was getting restless, shifting in the uncomfortable silence. Hawke didn’t know what to do.
“Wow this is a super duper honor,” he began and immediately he could hear Josephine sighing in frustration. He flipped through the cards trying to decipher anything trying to get some cues. “ But uh…I…uh…I guess I should thank some people…Varric of course. You’re still my best friend and I don’t think I’d have made it this far without you.” He made a mock fist bump which Varric returned. “Ambassador Montilyet, thanks for arranging such an event. It…uh…I really don’t have the words…”
He looked around trying to come up with the rest of his speech, his thoughts escaping him before they could fully form. He found himself going silent again, his panic rising as he thought he would run off stage.
Leliana cleared her throat, trying to hurry Hawke along but his throat was closing up.
“Say something,” he thought. “Anything.”
“I don’t want the job,” he blurted out. Not that.
The crowd gasped in unison, and cameras started flashing more and beyond the buzzing crowd, Sera’s machine gun giggle echoed through the air.
Immediately Cassandra jerked Hawke by the shoulder. “You said it was your duty to defeat Corypheus.”
“And I definitely will. On board. 100 percent. But why me? Why not literally anyone else?” Hawke shrugged sheepishly. He knew he should shut up, that this was already going terribly wrong, but his mouth wouldn’t stop running.
“You have the Maker’s blessing! You’re the Herald of Andraste!”
“Debatedly.”
Leliana tried to come between them. “Perhaps we should move this discussion to a more private location.”
“What for? So you can get all shadowy and intimidate me into the job?”
“Hawke-” Leliana said warningly.
“I’ll help defeat Corypheus, seal rifts, drag me to the ass end of Thedas, but for fuck’s sake don’t make me into some kind of glorified Chantry puppet.”
A sickening thud cracked through the air as Cassandra’s gauntleted fist smashed into Hawke’s face, soundly knocking him unconscious.
Above the sound of the shocked silence, Varric started clapping, alone. “Our Inquisitor, everyone.”
———————————————————————————————————–
“This was supposed to be our shining moment,” Josephine paced around the war table, her suit jacket now off to reveal a lacy white shirt underneath. She was wringing her yellow handkerchief.
Leliana leaned against the war table, looking amused as she followed Josephine with her eyes. “I’ve already confiscated all camera footage of the event. No one will see it.”
“But people have eyes, Leliana. Dear Maker, I even invited the Thedas Times for an exclusive. Can you imagine the headline?”
#this shit is weird#camp nano 2019#Jonzen writes crap#dragon age#still a rough draft and it might change a bit when I finally get around to this book
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