theluckywizard

[theluckywizard]

Rating: M | Category: M/M | Words: 34 792 | Chapters 16/29

Summary: 

When Magister Dorian Pavus' expedition meets unexpectedly with a clan of unhappy Dalish elves, First Taren Lavellan may be the unhappiest among them. Unhappier still to be put to the task of helping to see his quest through. This is the tale of how a fortnight in the forests of the Free Marches can change everything.

Read from the beginning!

Chapter 16: Stranded

Snippet:

“Master Pavus! Dorian! Dorian! ” 

Dorian was vaguely aware of a woman’s voice, rasping high and too quiet for being so panicked and so close. Muffled. He groaned, moved, and with the spark of angry pain it brought, groaned again. He opened his eyes and then quickly squinted them back shut, blinking rapidly as rock dust and dirt scratched against his vision. 

“I’m here!” he called. “I’m alive.” 

When he tried to move again, his head fell involuntarily back against the wall of stone he was pressed against. Slowly, he worked himself up from a prone position on his side to an uncomfortable leaning seat. Nothing crushed, nothing trapped, something very much pinching and many things aching, but alive. Warmth pooled at his side, he clutched a hand to it and found it wet. He tightened his grip, and felt the panging resistance of rock-shatter in his skin. He hissed back a louder cry. 

“Shit,” muttered the voice of the First. The word was so harshly out of place on him that Dorian nearly laughed. Then he glanced to his sides, and understood. 

DAFF tag list: @warpedlegacy @rakshadow @rosella-writes @effelants @bluewren

@breninarthur

@ar-lath-ma-cully @dreadfutures @ir0n-angel @inquisimer @crackinglamb

@theluckywizard @nirikeehan @oxygenforthewicked @exalted-dawn-drabbles @melisusthewee

@agentkatie @delicatefade @leggywillow @about2dance @plisuu

#fic rec #pavellan #dorian x lavellan #dorian pavus #dalish head canons #dragon age #dragon age fanfiction #enemies to lovers

[theluckywizard]

Cullen deserved clothes 🥰

Commander Cullen Rutherford

Update: I clothed him. 🥰

Started this morning while waiting for a car inspection to finish. Hair is still my least favorite 🫠

[theluckywizard]

In the Shattering of Things, Ch. 73: Bound

Summary: In the day following the harrowing turn of events at the Winter Palace gala, Rose recovers and attempts to strike a bargain with Empress Celene.

Fic Summary: Lady Rose Trevelyan's idle, aristocratic life blinks out in a haze of irrelevance when the breach destroys the Conclave. She may be soft and coddled when she joins the Inquisition, but there's a fierceness inside her she's yet to fully recognize. Armed with only a few relevant skills and the mark that makes her a legend, she is thrust onto a path delivering hope where it’s long been scorched away and finds comfort in the grumpy, handsome stick in the mud charged with her protection and training. As she stumbles her way across southern Thedas, she begins to realize she's tangled at the center of machinations she barely understands, and she's not alone in that. Enter Hawke. Excerpt under the cut 👇

I awaken to the sound of knuckles rapping on glass. Moonlight illuminates a pair of familiar shoulders through the seeded glass of the balcony doors. A muffled entreaty comes through.

“Psst. Rose.”

“Hawke?” I answer, sleep dragging on my voice. 

He peers through the glass with cupped hands. I motion him inside, but the door requires picking which leaves me waiting for this ham handed brute for the second time tonight. My heart is raw with anticipation as he fumbles his way through the procedure. He finally trips his way in and crosses the distance between us in a second despite his obvious limp and drops to the floor beside my bed. We fall into a desperate kiss, sloppy and brutally uncomfortable, but we kiss. There isn’t any better evidence that we both made it: the chafe of his nascent stubble against my chin, the warmth of his lips, our mutual stink of elfroot and antiseptic. We clutch each other too tightly, yet much too gently and when I pull him closer suddenly for more he hisses in pain.

“Sorry,” I mutter against his lips.

“Don’t stop,” he answers, drinking me up.

I twist to reach more of him, truly an atrocious idea. “Ow, fuck!”

We both retreat a few inches. “We should stop,” he whispers on a huff of laughter. “Maybe. Before we tear something anew.”

He eases me back against the pillows, lips pressed to mine the whole way down and then pulls back, stroking my banged up face in the whisper of moonlight. His pitying, commiserative look nearly draws a chuckle out of me. And then bound together by our shared worry, our saved up words tumble over each other.

“I was so scared something happened—”

“I thought you were dead—”

He laughs and then winces, clutching his ribs. “Maker, same.”

I feel around the nightstand for the brass matchbox in the darkness. “Let me get a look at you.”

Obliging me, Hawke lights a lamp and puffs out the match before dropping to his knees again. The swelling around his eye has calmed but purple bruises flower all around it. His fingers graze my tender right cheekbone.

“We’re a matching set,” he says. By the glisten in his eyes, I suspect we are in more ways than our twin shiners.

I shake my head and flip down the blankets beside me. “Come here.” There’s no telling whether my body can take what I need, but I need it nonetheless. He stands and eases out of his usual jerkin and then winces as he pulls off his shirt and kicks off his boots and breeches. The glow of the lamp lights up the bandages all over him. One plastered down over a wound on his right shoulder with some kind of resin, his left forearm and right thigh are wrapped completely. His ribs are mottled in large shadowy bruises, one precision bash by the look of it. He slides carefully in beside me under the covers, opening his arms to me. I roll toward him slowly enough that I won’t tear the tenuously renewed flesh inside me. He handles me like fragile bloom, folding his arms around me in a gentle cage.

“I told the guards to let you pass, you know,” I say, the words catching on the knot in my throat as I fidget with the bandages on my forearms.

“You did?” he replies, genuine surprise brightening his face. “Well, climbing the drainpipe did the trick in a pinch.”

“It’s certainly more romantic,” I manage through the strain in my voice. “If a bit reckless given your state.”

I press my lips just beneath his collarbone as he does the same to the top of my head and we lie in silence. There’s so much to tell him but I can’t decide where to begin. He grazes his fingers over my wrapped up forearms in an inquiry.

“Defensive wounds,” I explain.

A nearly inaudible gasp catches above me. “They told me you took a knife for Celene,” he says, his lips skimming against my forehead as if to confirm I’m actually beside him.

“I did.” The words are barely a whisper, barely anything.

Read the rest here!

DAFF Tag List

@warpedlegacy | @rakshadow | @rosella-writes | @effelants | @bluewren

@breninarthur | @ar-lath-ma-cully | @dreadfutures | @plisuu | @ir0n-angel

@inquisimer | @crackinglamb | @nirikeehan | @oxygenforthewicked | @about2dance

@exalted-dawn-drabbles | @melisusthewee | @blarrghe | @agentkatie | @delicatefade

@leggywillow

#Dragon Age Fan Fiction #Hurt Comfort #All the comforts #Wicked Eyes Wicked Hearts #Empress Celene #Hawke x Trevelyan #rose trevelyan #dragon age inquisition #in the shattering of things #cullen x trevelyan #garrett hawke #dragon age #cullen rutherford #political intrigue

[theluckywizard]

Chapters: 4/20 Fandom: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Female Cadash/Varric Tethras, Female Cadash & Male Hawke, Male Hawke & Varric Tethras Characters: Shae Cadash, Varric Tethras, Male Hawke (Dragon Age), Cassandra Pentaghast, Bianca Davri, Kieran (Dragon Age), Morrigan (Dragon Age), Solas (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Starts pre-canon, Outsider POV for DA2, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, slow emotional burn, Friends to Lovers, Regardless of What That Contract Said, Explicit Sexual Content, Comfort Sex, Hawke Ships It, Dubious Spycraft, Remember Kids: the Carta Is Like the Mob, Dwarf Culture & Customs, My Own Dwarf Lore [side-eyes BW], Background Relationships, Skips Through Canon, Angst and Feels, The Emotional Labor Carried By One Bottle of Whiskey, Happy Ending Summary:

A Carta spy and a jaded author meet and part. And meet and part.

And then there’s a hole in the sky.

Heroes are everywhere, but neither of them really think they fit the bill. They just want some peace and quiet. Guess they’ll have to make it themselves.

Beta’d by Iron_Angel. NSFW will be marked **. Updates weekly.

Chapter 4 - The Turn**

Shae had never thought her first time in bed with Varric Tethras would be this.  

She never thought she’d actually end up in bed with him, for that matter.

“Leave the lamp,” he whispered hoarsely.  “I’ve had enough of the dark.”

“All right.”  She turned it down low, but didn’t extinguish it. Between it and the fireplace, the suite had a glow.  There were shadows, but they weren’t threatening.  Varric turned on his side facing the wall and she slipped in behind him.  She curled against his back and he shuddered out a breath but didn’t push her away. In fact, he reached back for her hand and brought it around his chest, holding it in his own against his heartbeat.  They passed from wakefulness to sleep without notice.

Keep reading

#fic rec #female cadash/varric tethras #cadash x varric #shaerric #dragon age #dragon age fan fiction

[theluckywizard]

I hope the fic you are working on right now finds a reader who will think about it constantly for years

#sincerely!

[theluckywizard]

15 Lines of Dialogue - Rose Trevelyan

Thank you for the tag @the-rebel-archivist !

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

It would have been infinitely easier to do this with my Garrett Hawke, but I chose my girl, my rogue!Inquisitor, Rose Trevelyan. My long fic In the Shattering of Things is in first person, so I spend all together too much time inside her head. Most of her best lines are just thoughts really, but I stuck to dialogue here. The thing about Rose is that she's just a lady. It takes her ages to start to get her feet under her-- to trust that she has any capacity for leadership. And still she's out of her depth a lot of the time, so it's rare for her to have any grandiose soundbites.

But she's witty and brave. Bit of a brat. She meets the horrors of the world with compassion and pluck. And, personally, I think she's rather funny (especially in banter).

Is this the part where I learn you’re a vile rat instead of a cream puff?

If you weren’t so concerned with my melting you might have melted too!

I’m as good as an open book to someone like you. No reason to pretend I’m not. Leliana and Josephine would kill me for admitting as much, but there you have it. Only one of us was trained by Lady Mantillon.

Picking bits of chocolate out from between a stranger’s tits feels a touch bold.

Perhaps you resent her because she’s a little bit right. Elves have been denied rights and representation just as often as mages.

You put me here. On this bloody throne. You knew what I was. What I am. So imagine how I must feel when I hear something like that.

You should really rethink your height at the very least.

Given the state of the Inquisition’s finances, I’m not sure what I can hope for. A burlap sack with a wine colored sash perhaps?

That’s kind of you, Bull, but I’d appreciate knowing your objections ahead of sallying forth on the wings of my wild optimism.

Yes and with my eloquence, I’ll be lying face first in my own pile of metaphorical horseshit

I've half a mind to make a fool of myself with the Nug King. Maybe three-quarters a mind.

There’s nothing quite like a family with a storied lineage that’s managed to squander their wealth. The combination of snobbery and desperation is always a joy to behold.

It’s comforting to know I’m worth less than two trebuchets to you

I suppose the legend of the Herald has its uses, but it’s not for everyone. Some people would rather see that I’m frightfully ordinary.

It looks like the Veil is just over there up in the sky. But it’s everywhere isn’t it? Right here where we’re standing. Under the ice on the pond. Inside these tents. It’s strange to think of. Before all this it was easy to forget there’s magic in all of this.

Tagging @warpedlegacy, @skinwalkingxana, @ammoniteflesh, @kiastirling, @delicatefade, @samseabxrn , @crackinglamb, @breninarthur anyone else who wants to jump on!

#Rose Trevelyan #OC: Rose Trevelyan #Dragon Age Fan Fiction #Rogue!Inquisitor #In the Shattering of Things #Dragon Age Inquisition #Hawke x Trevelyan #Cullen x Trevelyan

[theluckywizard]

#screaming

[theluckywizard]

An Embellishment of Lore (tag game)

I think as Fanfic writers, we often add lore to our stories. It is natural for us to build upon the pillars set for us. But what about the foundations, gravel and grit? What was a piece of Lore you added to Dragon Age that wasn’t pre-existing?

Tagged by @theluckywizard!

I tend to have a lot of lore sitting in documents (like, seriously, I have a whole thing just on Orlesian theater culture), but honestly, most of it is side stuff that enters fics in bits and pieces. Apart from events that I tweak due to character choices that aren't available in canon or the need to maintain practical plausibility, I usually don't invent that much for DA because the foundational worldbuilding is so damn good.

That said, here's a few fun details:

There are newspapers in Orlais. (Makes sense, since we know they can mass-produce books.)

Pravin glanced up from his cup of tea, regarding the older man, who was reading the week’s copy of Le Royan through a pair of pince-nez. “What?” “Inquisition,” Gaubert repeated expectantly, sliding the paper across the table to him. “You heard about this?”

Opiates exist. (There's implication of this in canon, but not fully substantiated.)

“And…” Fidencio’s gaze slid thoughtfully upward, debating his last choice, before leveling on Varric again. “One case laudanum.” “Ooh,” Varric said with a sharp inhale. “That’s a toughie. Been having some sourcing issues, for all the obvious reasons.” “Well, I can’t make this too easy for you,” Fidencio said with a smirk.

Josephine's a theater nerd who had season tickets to the Grande Royeaux. (I mean, she can take the PC to the opera; of course she is.)

“Which plays have you seen?” he asked in friendly Antivan. Josephine switched to her native tongue with a delighted laugh. “So many. I had season tickets for a quite a while. You were very memorable as Godoy in Fontenot—you brought such sharp intellect to a role that’s normally just a caricature of the scheming foreigner. And Sévigny—I’ve seen that probably three times with different casts, and your take on the man was fascinatingly raw and real. Like the prayer scene, how that’s normally this somber, elegant expression of grief, and you were just stalking about, furious, weeping—”

Cullen was taught to "speak properly" in a Chantry school and has an accent that implies he didn't receive a high-end education.

A commoner, Pravin figured. Interesting pick for a military appointment. Cullen sounded vaguely Ferelden, with one of those Chantry-taught accents that came across as deliberately stripped of regional color. Maybe he’d been connected to the institution, someone one of the Hands had grown accustomed to working with—a templar, perhaps.

I think probably one of my biggest additions to canon is the amount of multilingual interactions/linguistic code-switching I write--it's not something that's easy to portray in a game with voice acting, but so normative among real people who speak several languages that I can't not see it happening. Josephine and Pravin swap between Orlesian, Antivan and Common through the course of their first meeting in The Girl He Remembered, depending on their comfort level with each other, what they're talking about and who else is in the room, and I just love what it adds to the scene.

#hhhh i love all that so much #especially cullen's elocution lessons #dragon age fan fiction #interesting headcanons

[theluckywizard]

if you have multiple hawkes, choose your first/most canon/most interesting hawke, whatever you want.

extra credit: when do they kill a person for the first time? How does that impact them/shape their experiences?

#Garrett's first kill was the culprit in his first big investigation #He'd been investigating a string of assaults and a murder in Lothering #He killed him primarily in self-defense #but also was not confident the law would do anything about it #Probably killed more than a few opportunistic bandit assholes preying on refugees too #Giving him a human(oid) body count of like 4 at start of DA:2 #garrett hawke #warrior!hawke #In the Shattering of Things #blue Hawke

[theluckywizard]

if you have multiple inquisitors, choose your first/most canon/most interesting inquisitor, whatever you want.

extra credit: when do they kill a person for the first time? How does that impact them/shape their experiences?

#Nope #Cullen asks Rose if she had and she's like WTF? #She's an archer so she sort of imagines it will be this distant thing that happens #And then it's this hand to hand scrap for survival in the bushes in the Crossroads #And she has to stab this young mage to death #The Hinterlands is a real wakeup call #She's struck by what a waste it is #A mage blinded by trauma and anger #The world is ruthless #Rose Trevelyan #In the Shattering of Things #Rogue!Inquisitor

[theluckywizard]

well, at least they're not building yet another war machine <<'

blame me for the wonky lines lmao

[theluckywizard]

An Embellishment of Lore (tag game)

I think as Fanfic writers, we often add lore to our stories. It is natural for us to build upon the pillars set for us. But what about the foundations, gravel and grit? What was a piece of Lore you added to Dragon Age that wasn't pre-existing?

Thank you for the tag @moonlightheretic 🥰

I think I added the most original lore for my ~6,500 word companion/standalone fic Thirst which is a Cullen POV fic that digs into the experiences Cullen has between DA:2 Act 3 and the intervening time between Meredith's fall and joining the Inquisition. In particular, I had a Samson who was reinstated on Cullen's own recommendation and then wrote in a schism of the Kirkwall Order when lyrium supply was heavily impacted by templar-mage warring where Samson takes a huge number away to Corypheus. It also explains Cullen's scar! I also dug into Meredith's madness and how she'd been taking an insane dose of lyrium at that point (red lyrium idol/sword notwithstanding). I know Templar HCs are a hot potato in fandom, but I found it fascinating to dig into. The bureaucracy of it all, the feeling of being unable to make changes to institutions even as corruption becomes more obvious. I will caveat "original" with "I'm sure others have had these ideas before in the scheme of the last decade of fic writing" so I won't claim to be breaking ground with them, but I really had an incredible time thinking about how things might have been for Cullen as he rises in the ranks and is responsible for more and more of that particular nightmare. In canon, I believe Samson took the templars after Cullen had left for the Inquisition, but I felt this way it created a lot more tension and drama between.

Excerpt under the cut 👇

Cullen and Samson shortly before Samson leaves:

Later that evening Cullen winds down shaving at his dressing table, squinting at himself in the small, tarnished mirror that had come with his Order-issued kit a decade before. He pauses in the weak candlelight to trace a finger over the circles under his eyes, the lines that have been there for years. But Cullen has been subjecting himself to the same rationing as those in his ranks and this week’s thirst and sleeplessness wears heavily across his face. Twenty seven years old looks more like forty today. He scrapes the blade over the stretched skin under his nose as he mulls over the tense atmosphere in the mess earlier. Something is shifting. It’s just a feeling at the moment but it’s time to gather hard evidence.

A shadowy figure appears behind him in the mirror so quietly, so suddenly that the blade slips, slicing across his lip. 

He whips around with a curse, backing into his table so violently that everything on top of it rattles. Samson takes up too much space in this modest room.

“Maker’s breath— What are you doing here?” he demands, clutching his mouth while blood drips through his fingers, his eyes fixing upon his sword across the room.

“Aw, no need for the curses, golden boy. Just here for a little chat.”

His eyes are rimmed with a greasy red like someone had thrown a fistful of lye at his face and he stands tall in a way that prickles at Cullen’s skin. He quickly parses that Samson wouldn’t be rationing this week, not that it would have stopped the man from finding the substance elsewhere. Man to man it wouldn’t be a contest with Samson’s blood singing and Cullen suffering in near abstention.

Samson reaches into his pocket and shakes out a rumpled handkerchief and hands it to Cullen. Cullen can feel the depth of the cut and is in no position to refuse it. He takes it and presses it to his lip. 

“How did you get past the guards?”

Samson crosses his arms and then steps over to lean against his door frame. “You can get anything for the right price. Thought I taught you that.”

Lyrium. Of course.

“The men are thirsty,” he continues. “You could’ve gone to the Carta months ago.”

“I’m not smuggling it,” says Cullen. “The Order must be above reproach.”

Samson snorts. “Above reproach? Try leashed like a pack of starving dogs. The Chantry’s old game playing out to the logical end.”

Cullen has no answer for him.

Samson chuckles, searching the ceiling, his lips curling into an unsettling smile. “Remember the days sneaking hits behind the armory? Or remember— remember that one time in Lowtown with that one bird Cinnamon—”

Cullen would prefer to forget. “What are you doing here, Samson?”

“Easy does it. Easy. I’m here to make an offer.”

“You?”

“Cut the leash. Get out from the Chantry’s thumb once and for all.”

Cullen gapes at him from under the handkerchief. “Quit lyrium?” 

Samson laughs, a rich, knowing thing deep in his throat. “Nah. There’s no going back. I’ve been there. Only forward.”

“Forward? To where?” demands Cullen. He feels the room clenching down upon him, the air growing thin. “We’re needed here.”

Kirkwall flagged without a viscount, without its Champion, Garrett Hawke who had vanished with his sister Bethany when the violence had grown too thick. It fell to him and Guard Captain Vallen to hold it all together.

“Something greater, kid. We deserve better. Me and you and all the rest. We could be great.”

“I don’t— speak plainly, Samson.”

“Aren’t you tired of being a lapdog?” Samson gestures at Cullen’s face. “I can see how tired you are. If you ask me you’re fighting the wrong battle.”

“I have a responsibility to the Order. How I feel doesn’t matter,” says Cullen with shallow breaths, paralyzed against his dressing table. He swallows a dry mouthful of nothing, feeling it all caving in on him. “Whatever you’re up to— I could use you here. I know some part of you cares. There are some things greater than our own need.”

“You’re something else, kid, you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it before.”

“Whatever happens now is on you,” says Samson. “Always been a bit too fanciful. Going to bite you in the arse some day.”

And then he is gone.

Read Thirst here!

Tagging @crackinglamb, @samseabxrn, @the-rebel-archivist, @leggywillow, @melisusthewee, @hekaerges, @oxygenforthewicked, @warpedlegacy, @monocytogenes, @nirikeehan, @delicatefade AND YOU IF YOU ARE READING THIS 🥰

#cullen rutherford #raleigh samson #meredith stannard #dragon age 2 #The Gallows #Kirkwall Order #Dragon Age Templars #Cullen & Samson #A friendship gone awry #A mentor gone mad #dragon age fan fiction

[theluckywizard]

An Embellishment of Lore

I think as Fanfic writers, we often add lore to our stories. It is natural for us to build upon the pillars set for us. But what about the foundations, gravel and grit? What was a piece of Lore you added to Dragon Age that wasn't pre-existing?

I will provide an example of my own below from two chapters concerning the topic. CW for Blood and Violence.

Chapter 26: Disciples of Lust, Lies and Power

Solas’s eyes rested on the table as I deliberated, they presented in a hazy hues of purple and gray, like a storm churning on the black horizon. His mind was occupied by something, clouded over by a memory.

The corners of his mouth twitched into a deep frown before sliding back up into disgust.

“You have memories you’d aspire to forget…so do I.” He stated lowly as his hand hovered over the board.

“The Veil I suppose.” I surmised as I selected my next move based on his.

Solas plucked his Pawn from its dock at A6 and observed it, twisting the stippled token in his fingers.

“It was a grand spectacle when the Evanuris played chess, they didn’t use marble carved pieces such as these. They used slaves armed with weapons.”

I relented my gaze from the board to stare at him in growing unease, no longer able to concentrate as I listened to him continue.

 “Swords for the King and Queen, lances for the Knights, daggers for the rest. There was so much blood one could no longer see the checked tile. Deleterious entertainment.” Solas set the piece down, his tone tempered with notes of repressed rage.

"Is that how you became so skilled?" I murmured, thoughtlessly. "Who fought on your behalf?" 

"You don't know what you suggest." He growled, his fist curling around the table. "Countless lives were lost, lives spent as if they meant nothing, no one fought on MY behalf. Do not equate me to them." 

“And yet, when the mighty veil comes crashing down, you’ll free them. Those that are so evil. What happens if they escape your vague plans?” I chided, smug that I had something to wield against his supposed perfection.

“They will never see the light of day.” Solas raised those churning eyes to my own.

Chapter 27: Two Queens

(Context: Moon'Hwa is cutting his hair)

"You asked me earlier when we played chess ...if I joined the Evanuris in their deleterious game.” He stated rather than asked. 

I jumped, startled, and nearly took off my own finger.

He watched me curiously with a brow held in question.

I nodded slowly.

"I was one of the Pawns...then I became a Knight...then a King and then...something more."

"You were a slave?" I asked as gently as I could, trying to recover from my surprise, my tongue coiled around the last word hesitantly.

"Not exactly," Solas explained and finished with a sorrow-drenched whisper, "She asked me to fight."

"Mythal?"

Snip.

"Yes." He answered after a pause.

"...so, you had to prove yourself."

"Not to her. Them ." He hissed as if referring to them at all was akin to a heated knife slicing through flesh.

"You became something more? Did Mythal elevate you?" I probed, genuinely interested.

Snip.

"I ascended as a general to lead her armies against them. To give orders, strategies, and plans that ensured success. Victory canonized me as a god...as one of them."

“Is that when you discovered your magic?”

Snip.

“No, I knowingly carried it, but I did not wield it.”

Snip

“Even when you fought with weapons, why didn’t you take advantage of it? It would have been a boon.”

“ Pawns aren’t granted the use of the Fade. I couldn’t strategically put it to use. The Evanuris enjoyed watching the struggle. The sword was enough with my intent provoking each strike.”

The memory that his imagery conjured struck a chord in an already fracturing symphonic resolve.

“Pawns, although simple, can accomplish great things.”

How about you? <3

Tagging @delicatefade @bluewren @theluckywizard @doomhippy83

#fascinating headcanons! #evanuris #solas origin #fen'harel #dragon age fan fiction

[theluckywizard]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tag @greypetrel

YES I am still working on Kiss Me Moonstruck. It's at 30k words now! Short summary: Two old friends conspire to fix up their incorrigible children over Satinalia week in 9:35 Dragon in Kirkwall. Rose Trevelyan and Garrett Hawke really don't want to be fixed up. 😏 Here Rose Trevelyan is having a fish out of water experience walking into the Hanged Man behind Garrett Hawke for the first time. She'd sneaked out of the estate to wander around Hightown and catching her in the act, Garrett instead convinces her to come to the Hanged Man with him. Excerpt below the cut 👇

Rose enters past Hawke, immediately assaulted by the stink of old ale festering in floorboard crevices and a haze of smoke so thick that she nearly chokes. The sensations thrill her.

She scans the space, jammed with revelers staggering and dancing and then the crowd erupts in a cheer, drinks thrust into the air with a slosh for her companion. Garrett raises his arm full of Satinalia crowns to the denizens of this fetid dive and announces that the next round is on him. He grasps her hand and tugs her closer to his side before distributing the wreaths by tossing them far across the establishment into waiting hands.

“As before, watch your valuables,” he says, leaning low enough that his hair grazes her ear. When she turns to look up at him, he smiles down at her, straightening her crooked wreath.

“So what’s good to drink here?” she asks.

“The Sip-Sip is rather smashing if you want to walk sideways,” says a smoky, silky voice that belongs to Captain Half-an-Outfit. Rose feels her appraising gaze once again run across the length of her torso and linger on her leather clad breast. Her eyes jump up to meet Rose’s, like polished amber jewels that dwell in an outrageous smolder.

“So this is your fussy bride to be, Hawke?”

Rose manages her reaction carefully, knowing bait when she hears it.

“She’s right here you know. You can talk to her,” he scolds her. “Rose, Isabela. Isabela, Rose.”

“You’re looking a little more unbound, aren’t you?” says Isabela, gliding her fingers underneath the length of Rose’s braid. “Love the hair.” The woman’s ample bosom, barely contained inside a stay-bound chemise, is paraded so close in front of her that Rose has no choice but to contend with them.

“A pleasure,” manages Rose, retrieving her braid from the pirate’s presumptuous hands.

“Is Varric here?” asks Garrett.

“In his lair no doubt,” says the pirate. “He’s cranky after the dust up with Dougal yesterday.”

“Oh Hawke! It’s her isn’t it?” A willowy elf stumbles out of the throng before the pair of them, slipping in a puddle of mislaid drink before recovering herself. Short, sprightly braids are tucked behind her elegant ears and the curls of her vallaslin reminds Rose of the one belonging to the family game keeper, one she had affectionately traced with a finger on a few occasions. “It’s you! The one with the smirk he liked.”

Lightly scowling, Garrett chucks a crown at the elf that she catches awkwardly against her throat as Rose furiously tries to repress her smile and there’s nothing to be done about the pink flames in her cheeks.

“Oh— I— um— wasn’t supposed to say that was I?” she says.

“I’m quite capable of embarrassing myself, Merrill,” scolds Garrett. “No need to help me along in that.”

“But you brought her here of all places!” protests Merrill. “A proper lady!”

“He either despises her completely or is flat on his arse out of his gourd in love,” says the pirate, eyebrow raised as she tosses back a swig from a bottle.

“I have reasons to believe it’s the former,” Rose says, crossing her arms.

“Maker,” grunts Garrett, he rolls his head to look at Rose who spies the faintest flush in his cheeks. “Pay them no mind. Their manners have drowned at the bottom of a bottle.”

“But I haven't had a bottle! I’ve only had a pint,” counters the elf.

“It’s an expression, Kitten,” says Isabela, stroking the fur epaulet of Merrill’s fascinating getup.

Garrett turns to Rose. “Just so we’re clear, these two Maker-damned rascals will badger me about anything remotely embarrassing,” he explains, though his expression is fond and his flush the natural cost of having such doting friends. 

Rose silently wishes she had people to torment her with such ferocious affection.

Tagging @delicatefade, @jarakrisafis, @samseabxrn, @rowanisawriter, @about2dance, @leggywillow, @skinwalkingxana and YOU

#Kiss Me Moonstruck #Rose Trevelyan #Garrett Hawke #Hawke x Trevelyan #Matchmakingmoms!AU #honestly Hawke deserves a little romantic comedy in his life #trouble #sexy trouble

[theluckywizard]

Inquisitor Thalia Trevelyan

I painted my friend @nirikeehan's girl Thalia! Thalia Trevelyan of the Ostwick Circle. Here are some delightful fics featuring Thalia! Nightmare!AU Through A Glass, Darkly (Thalia x Cullen)

Post-trespasser second chance fic Kingdom Come (Thalia x Blackwall)

A Little Grace, and Some Elegance (Thalia x Cullen, Cullen & Samson)

#Dragon Age Inquisition #Dragon Age Fan Art #Inquisitor Trevelyan #OC: Thalia Trevelyan #My Art #fic rec #mage!Inquisitor #Dragon Age OC #Dragon Age #Look at those glossy lips #Baby

[theluckywizard]

Chapters: 3/20 Fandom: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Female Cadash/Varric Tethras, Female Cadash & Male Hawke, Male Hawke & Varric Tethras Characters: Shae Cadash, Varric Tethras, Male Hawke (Dragon Age), Cassandra Pentaghast, Bianca Davri, Kieran (Dragon Age), Morrigan (Dragon Age), Solas (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Starts pre-canon, Outsider POV for DA2, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, slow emotional burn, Friends to Lovers, Regardless of What That Contract Said, Explicit Sexual Content, Comfort Sex, Hawke Ships It, Dubious Spycraft, Remember Kids: the Carta Is Like the Mob, Dwarf Culture & Customs, My Own Dwarf Lore [side-eyes BW], Background Relationships, Skips Through Canon, Angst and Feels, The Emotional Labor Carried By One Bottle of Whiskey, Happy Ending Summary:

A Carta spy and a jaded author meet and part. And meet and part.

And then there’s a hole in the sky.

Heroes are everywhere, but neither of them really think they fit the bill. They just want some peace and quiet. Guess they’ll have to make it themselves.

Beta’d by Iron_Angel. NSFW will be marked **. Updates weekly.

Chapter 3 - The Debt

Varric got his one life in return for hers.  On a rainy night when smugglers were moving a shipment of lyrium deeper up the Wounded Coast, her second cousin Marbeth didn’t kill Hawke when she had the chance to.  And in so doing, didn’t kill Varric either.  The debt was paid.  Doubly so, according to some.  Prescin, for instance.

Not paid by me, she thought.  But it wouldn’t do to say that to anyone, least of all her uncle.  She kept her head down and put thoughts of Varric’s eyes shimmering like fine whiskey in the lamplight firmly out of her mind.

In another few months, it ceased to matter.  He and Hawke and Bartrand, along with a wagon train of workers and assorted other companions of Hawke’s, had gone to the Deep Roads, searching for treasure.

Keep reading

#fic rec #female cadash/varric tethras #dragon age #cadash x varric #shae cadash #varric tethras #dragon age 2 #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fan fiction #did i say fic rec?! #fic recccc

[theluckywizard]

SWTOR Imperial Agent: Pravin Winscliff II

Painted @monocytogenes's boy Pravin! Honestly painting a shirt and chest hair worthy of him was one of my favorite parts! Is he scowling in annoyance at Theron? Possibly.

#SWTOR #Imperial Agent #Cipher Nine #Star Wars the Old Republic #SWTOR fanart #SWTOR oc #SWTOR art #my art #digital painting