#I love my lavellan I’d die for her

[lizziekilgannon]

Emmasha Lavellan my beloved

#dai #dai tarot #lavellan #my art #this started off as a vague redraw and face practice and it turned out way better than I’d hoped #also it was so fun!!!! #I love my lavellan I’d die for her

[greypetrel]

15 Lines of Dialogue

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!

Tagged by @shivunin, thank you so much Mo! It's been so fun. Also a nightmare because I chose Aisling and my goodness someone make her shut up please. Referenced from Monster Fic (which is still getting views?? :"D Welp.), This one Radha fic , this prompt . Five minutes of silence for the one poop line that didn't make it to the final cut of this meme. Always remembered.

🦄✨ Aisling Lavellan ✨🦄

"We look like a swan and the ugly chick of a cuckoo.”

“I do. He’s just been mistreated. The Idiot started training him as a war horse, but it didn’t go well. He’s been beaten and whipped and given little food for too long, and relegated to do the work horse when he’s not. He just needs to learn that people can be trusted again, but he’ll be stronger and swifter than all the others, I’m sure.”

“Hey, I’m trying to stay in the role. I was told I’m a religious figure and I should behave! You’re ruining the mood, people need to think I’m the Herald of Andraste for real and that you can’t laugh! Stop, or I’ll have to sing a very lewd drinking song, you’ll laugh loudly, and they’ll all know!”

“I am aware I must sound like a child. But I believe people are good, deep down. And that everyone deserves a second chance.”

“In the case I’ll tragically fall to my death on horseback, I’ll leave a note to allow you to talk to my funeral and tell everyone that you told me so, is it all right?”

“The bad and the good, Cole. The good is better if there’s bad, like when it stops raining and the sun shines again, or when springs melts the snow and the flowers grow. But, humans can’t choose one, you know it. There must be snow and rain and thunder to make the flowers grow. I’m fine, don’t look at me. What do you want to do?”

“Honestly, I think all the time that you would have made a way better job as Inquisitor, if I hadn’t convinced the Keeper to send me and not you. You would have done a better job as First than I ever did, if… And I’m… I’m trying to prove that it’s not so, that I can be good too. Been doing it all my life, honestly.”

“Mh. I’m not really sure. Care to try again? For science?”

“You wished for a Cinderella, your Grace, but I am a bad one. You would know if you ever had paid more attention to anyone that’s not yourself.”

“But then, even if I feel nauseous and I hate everything and I would beg you to just take the title from me, I can’t take it, it’s too much and I’m just me… Then I remember that if I had run, I’d never met any of you, and you’ve all become family, and… And I do believe that we’re doing something good to the world. And that’s… That’s enough when the walls seems to loom upon me and I think that I can’t shoulder another impossible decision that shouldn’t be mine to take.”

“What if you explain and nothing changes? I know about loneliness, and of thinking you don’t deserve the love you get. You don’t have to face it alone.”

“I know. But I can still do some good, and the important people will remember me. I don’t care for the rest.”

“I’ve been alone ever since people started calling me the Herald of fucking Andraste, but I guess you wouldn’t understand being imposed by others a part that means nothing to you and you hate, right, Blackwall?”

“But if thinking he deserves another chance makes me a traitor, than be it. He’s more powerful than any of you realize. If you really think that hate and open hostility will ultimately save us all, I am glad to call myself a traitor and die as one.”

“No. You will let me finish. I know my shit, I am good at it, I am happy that you worry and care for me, really! I am and thank you for it, but this is getting ridiculous and I’m only doing worse because I’m stressed about you not trusting that I am competent and constantly watching me like… Like… Like a fucking vulture!”

Special mentions:

"Bad horsey!"

“Hey! I also have good days!”

Tagging: @ndostairlyrium @underneathestars @melisusthewee @rowanisawriter @pinayelf @zenstrike @inquisimer @heniareth and YOU!

#tagged petrel #15 lines of dialogue #aisling lavellan #I noted down everything not to get back at the fic again and I filled 3 pages in word #1790 words #my goodness Aisling you're chatty #back at you Mo it *has* been a nightmare #something I realized is that the most poignant lines on her are always said by other characters #... which is extremely in line with her #She'll talk you silly but will only speak about what negative she's feeling if she's VERY upset #and that Blackwall takes out the worst in her (in a good thing - not one she's happy to face but one she needs to face)

[ladydarksbane]

**Character Expo**

I've been playing DAI since it came out in 2014. I can't even begin to recall the number of complete playthroughs I've made. There have been A LOT!! I had a huge folder of save files and screenshots, but lost it in a HDD failure. Luckily I had some of my faves backed up on a separate drive. I thought I'd post some of those Inquisitors here:

Uriah Lavellan - modded Elven Circle Mage playthru - not Dalish - born in Kirkwall Alienage, magic manifested at age 6, sent to the Gallows, transferred to the Ostwick Circle as an apprentice - lived there until the circles disbanded. Believes he is the Herald of Andraste. Rode the Bull. Took the power from the Well of Sorrows.

Assan Lavellan - Archer Tempest - Romanced Cassandra, convinced her to rebuild the Seekers. Leliana became Divine Victoria. 

Kataar Adaar - Pyromancer and Knight Enchanter, doesn't believe in Gods - though he helped Cassandra become the Divine because he believed in her. My all time fave DAI character. He's my canon Inquisitor.

Ash Adaar - Warrior Reaver - romanced Cassandra, Celene rules Orlais with Briala (reconciled them).

Asharaas Adaar - Warrior Reaver - fell for Dorian. Also doesn't believe in Gods. Never claimed to be the Herald. Gaspard is Emperor, but Briala is the power behind the throne.

Ashkost Adaar - Warrior Champion - fell for Josephine's gentle grace and dueled Lord Otranto for her hand. (I love that duel) Chose the Templars over the Mages and made Vivienne the Divine.

Kathas Adaar - (I used a mod that gave him multiplayer Saarebas magic in sp so he had some really cool magic, unfortunately it would crash if you tried to enter Redcliffe/Hushed Whispers quest so that meant he had to do Champions of the Just, the Templar quest. I like it, though, because of Ser Barris. And Calpernia.) He did disband the Templar order and had them join the Inquisition as free allies, though. And through the Choose Your Divine mod, Leliana became Divine. Kathas romanced Dorian, and punched Solas. At the end of Trespasser, he told Solas he would stop him. 

Verush Adaar - Warrior Reaver - romanced Cassandra, let Celene die and made Gaspard emperor of Orlais, exiled the Grey Wardens (cus Cassandra said to send them away), Left Blackwall in jail when the truth of who he was and what he did came out, allied with the templars, Cassandra became Divine. 

Sataareth Adaar - Rogue Assassin - romanced Dorian. Very minimal in recruiting, said No to Bull (because Ben-Hassrath) and Vivienne(due to her views on magic) Also did not recruit Blackwall. Doesn’t like Solas. Doesn’t believe in Gods or religion. Freed the mages at Redcliffe. Chose Gaspard as sole Emperor of Orlais. Leliana will be Divine.

Azure Adaar - Mage, didn’t specialize (due to an Unlock Specs mod.. he used them all) Romanced Josephine. Vivienne made Divine

Akasha Adaar - Archer Assassin - never finished her playthrough, she made it to Skyhold, was romancing Blackwall, made it through Wicked Eyes, Wicked Hearts and then I got bored so I created a new character and never went back to her. Don't have the save files any more.

Alexander Trevelyan - Archer Tempest - Dorian romance, made Celene, Gaspard and Briala work together for the betterment of the Empire, freed the mages, allied with the Wardens, Leliana is Divine. 

Jace, Jacoby and Vaughn Trevelyan - Warrior, Rogue, Mage, romances were Josephine, Cassandra and Cullen (used the Bi Cullen mod). IIRC, Jace went the Templar route while Jacoby and  Vaughn went the mage route. The mages were freed, and Templar order became allies of the Inquisition. Ser Barris became Knight-Commander. The Grey Wardens also became allies of the Inquisition. In 2 of those pt's, Leliana became Divine and the other was Cassandra. In all 3, Celene, Gaspard and Briala were made to work together. 

Kesh Cadash - she's one of 2 dwarves I've ever played. Never played a male dwarf in Inquisition and probably never will. LOL Kesh - she's a little cutie - Dual Daggers/Assassin - romanced Blackwall - tried to convince him that even those that have lived a life of crime can better themselves (after all she did, given her background with the Carta), she reconciled Celene and Briala, allied with the Templars, and allied with the Grey Wardens. She made Vivienne Divine. 

Orana - This was a head-canon playthru. Orana was not from the Dalish or from Clan Lavellan. She was an npc plucked straight from Dragon Age 2. Orana is the elven slave Hawke can save while helping Fenris track down Magister Hadriana during Act 2. My head-canon for this one was that Hawke sent her to the Divine Conclave at the Temple of Sacred Ashes in his stead as his spy. And she ends up with the mark on her hand.  I wrote a good bit of a short fanfic about her becoming the Herald of Andraste.  So in the image of her that I posted, Varric is giving her the side-eye because he knows who she is and he's waiting until Cassandra is out of earshot to ask her why Hawke thought sending her here was a good idea.

Estelle Trevelyan- My head-canon for her is that she sought something more for herself than joining the Chantry as many in her family had. She asked to be allowed study at the University of Orlais, but that was denied to her. So she ran away and ended up joining the Qun, becoming one of the many viddithari.  Her Besrathari (trainer) was called Meerad, and by the time her training ended, he named her Asaara. Despite the fact that she had left her noble family behind, she headed to the Conclave as Estelle Trevelyan in order to gather information. What she wasn't expecting was to end up with a magical mark on her hand and everyone calling her the "Herald of Andraste."

Mirisa Lavellan - My head-canon for her is that her mother was Dalish, but left the clan and dallied for a time with a city born elf. Mirisa's mother returned to the clan a few years later with Mirisa in tow. Soon after returning to Clan Lavellan, her mother passed away and Mirisa found herself in the care of her aunt. Her upbringing was rough because she never felt like she belonged. Despite this, she became one of the best hunters the clan had. She volunteered to go to the shem Conclave instead of them sending their first.

#inquisitors #adaar #cadash #lavellan #trevelyan #dragon age inquisition #dai #inquisitor adaar #inquisitor cadash #inquisitor lavellan #inquisitor trevelyan #character expo #modded

[musetta3]

Happy Friday and welcome to DWC!! How about "I’m not calling you a liar, just don’t lie to me" from the Florence prompt list for Cullen x Inquisitor? :D

Ahhh! Happy Friday, @nirikeehan ! for @dadrunkwriting, I have:

Rating: T

Words: 720

Genre: hurt/comfort

Pairing: Cullen/Aranehn Lavellan

CW: grief, anxiety attack, mentions of death

I never cared for how DAI handled what happened to Clan Lavellan, it felt far too 'brushed under the rug' for my taste. So here's my take on what happened after my Inquisitor, Aranehn, hears the news. Here's some hurt/comfort

“Fenedhis, Cullen, just… tell me the truth!”

Aranehn Lavellan stood before her Commander’s desk, chest heaving. In her hand was perhaps the most abhorrent, disgusting piece of correspondence she had ever had the misfortune of reading, one she would blot out from her memory, if she could. Instead, the horrific words were branded into her eyes, etched into her heart:

Her clan was dead. Her… entire clan was just. Gone.

Cullen sighed, sorrow clear in his eyes, “Josephine assures me that there’s been a misunderstanding, but—”

“‘Misunderstanding?!’” Her eyes burned with unshed tears. “This? Is a ‘misunderstanding?’ My people are gone, Cullen.” She paced, throat burning from unshed tears. “Don’t lie to me for the sake of sparing me. Please. I beg you, vhenan, not for something so important as this…” sobs cut off the rest of her words, shuddering her slight frame.

Everything that had happened during the past year dragged her down and buried her alive, not unlike the avalanche at Haven. The Conclave, death, blood, demons, loneliness—

Alone. Creators, she was an orphan now; her entire family was gone. No matter how many times Aranehn took a breath, she got no air. Her lungs ached, panic climbed her rib cage, clawing her to ribbons. The Anchor flared in her palm, lightning-hot pain shooting up her arm and turning her stomach. She doubled over the oaken desk, gasping.

A shuffle sounded to her left, the soft scrape of wood against the stone floor as Cullen pushed his chair away. Two strong arms enveloped her, clasping her to an engraved steel cuirass.

“You’re alright,” Cullen whispered, stroking her hair. “You’re alright. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but this will pass. Deep breaths.”

The comforting smell of leather mingled with the rosemary and lavender of the Antivan soap he favored. Aranehn leaned her head on his chest, aching eyes sliding closed as she drank in every sensation. Cullen’s tight embrace centered her, anchored her in the present. All around her was a maelstrom, a tempest of fire that threatened to consume her whole and smother her in the ashes of what was once her life. It left her raw inside.

“Why?” she croaked. “Why does everyone I’ve ever loved leave me in the end, Cullen?”

“I’m here,” he replied, “always. I’m here for you—”

“But everything I touch withers and dies. I’m a knife; all I do is kill, slash, destroy—”

Cullen gently let go and held her at arm’s length. “Listen to me, Aranehn of Clan Lavellan,” he said. He took her hand in his, kissing her palm before pressing it to his cheek. “You are not a knife; everything you touch doesn’t die. I’m living proof of it: if everything you touched truly withered, I’d be long gone… or a eunuch, at the very least.”

She scoffed a laugh through her tears. “Half the ladies of Skyhold would have my head, if you… lost yours,” she replied, nodding towards his abdomen. “Not to mention those women at the Winter Palace who wanted to ‘dance the galliard’ with you. Repeatedly, if I recall correctly.”

It was Cullen’s turn to laugh, hearty and full. Aranehn couldn’t help but smile; his laughter was so like him, kind and warm. Golden.

“You’d receive several strident letters from Orlesian noblewomen, yes,” he agreed. “...I want to help you give your clan justice, Ara,” he said after a pause. “I don’t trust the Duke or his words; there’s more to this than meets the eye.”

Aranehn’s eyes filled again, “thank you,” she whispered, gently brushing a stray curl from her beloved’s face. “Thank you, ma vhenan. That means more to me than you could know.”

He nodded, “I’ll ask my men to scour the countryside for clues, and Leliana can investigate the Duke and his men. We’ll get to the bottom of this, I swear. You and me, together.”

Aranehn cupped his cheek and drew him down, kissing him tenderly. Cullen pulled her in and held her close, forehead resting on hers. And it was then, in the arms of her beloved, with cheeks tearstained and body smushed against the hard, cold steel of his cuirass, that Aranehn felt the smallest spark of hope kindle in her bruised and bleeding heart. And she seized it with both hands, and refused to let go.

#dragon age #dai #dragon age inquisition #cullen rutherford #cullavellan #cullen x inquisitor #aranehn lavellan #da drunk writing circle #my writing #musetta writes #thank you for the prompt! #my fanfiction

[varric-tethras-editor]

URL Music Meme

A gigantically HUGE shout out to @blueheaded (also @the-dreadful-canine and @little-lightning-lavellan) for tagging me in this. I have been really inactive but this will be a nice post for the end of a very very long day/week/month/summer/life

I decided for a twist I would include my favorite lyrics from each song and of course each are linked for your listening pleasure!

(Asterisk songs/lyrics are all time favs)

***

V - Victoria by Jukebox the Ghost And now you've given me a mission to do, I've got to rearrange the stars so that they're not as far from you. A - Apartment by Young The Giant Cause sooner or later this is bound to stop Come on, let's savor what we're falling over R - Run Away With Me by Carly Rae Jepsen Hold on to me I never want to let you go Over the weekend we could turn the world to gold* R - Ribs by Lorde This dream isn't feeling sweet, we're reeling through the midnight streets And I've never felt more alone, it feels so scary getting old I - Ivy by Taylor Swift How's one to know? I'd live and die for moments that we stole On begged and borrowed time C - Chasing A Feeling by LÉON* We used to stay up forever Just to make every moment last T - Time Turned Fragile by Motion City Soundtrack I know I say that, I'm just fine But I hope you wonder from time to time E - Enough For You by Olivia Rodrigo Don't you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded? Don't you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing? T - Traveling Song by Ryn Weaver Half a heart is aching to grow Soulmates aren't just lovers, you know H - Honey by Halsey She was sweet like honey But all I can taste is the blood in my mouth And the bitterness in goodbye R - Recovery by Frank Turner Because I know you are a cynic but I think I can convince you, yeah, 'cause broken people Can get better if they really want to Or at least that's what I have to tell myself If I am hoping to survive*** A - All Too Well by Taylor Swift* And you call me up again just to break me like a promise So casually cruel in the name of being honest* S - Serotonin by girl in red Oh, been breaking daily, but only me can save me So I'm capitulating, crying like a fucking baby E - Evergreen Cassette by Goldspot If time, time could be bent with the drop of a tear You'd see it rain in our house for a year D - Disloyal Order Of Water Buffaloes by Fall Out Boy Oh, I'm a loose bolt of a complete machine What a match, I'm half doomed and you're semi-sweet I - If Work Permits by The Format Love is speaking in code It's an inside joke Love is coming home*** T - This Must Be The Place by Iron & Wine and Ben Bridwell Home, is where I want to be But I guess I'm already there I come home she lifted up her wings Guess that this must be the place O - Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish I've been walkin' through a world gone blind Can't stop thinkin' of your diamond mind R - Rivers and Roads by The Head and The Heart A year from now we'll all be gone All our friends will move away And they're goin' to better places But our friends will be gone away

Tags under the cut 💖💖💖

@kantrips @ellenembee @purahs @a11sha11fade @a-shakespearean-in-paris @oxygenforthewicked @emerald-amidst-gold @fernaee @maferaths-balls @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold @malewifezevran @cciarants

#wow this is gonna be a lot of songs #okay let me go and pick someeeeee im so excited for this #wow this took forever and im not even done

[1000generations]

OC Questionnaire

I sat down to work on my fanfic wip, then ended up reading writing advice where this questionnaire was passed around. I filled it out then took a nap. lol No progress on the wip.

But I thought it'd be fun to pass around these questions. And I'd love to read everyone's answers for their ocs.

I tag @melisusthewee @yukichouji @webbsiee @elenthi @occorner @redinkofshame @blueheaded @darethshirl @emerald-amidst-gold @enasallavellan @iridescentmemoria @for-the-ninth @notebooks-and-laptops @oxygenforthewicked @dreadfutures @rosella-writes @little-lightning-lavellan @the-dreadful-canine and@wickedwitchofthewilds. No pressure of course! You all have probably filled this sort of thing out before.

THE BASICS:

Character’s name: Fen’Asha

Role in story: The Inquisitor (post-trespasser)

Physical description: Blond, slightly curled hair, fit physique, has claw scars on her back, has a prosthetic right arm.

Age: early to mid thirties

MBTI/Enneagram Personality Type: INFJ-A (I didn't realise we have the same personality type. Write what you know right?... but I am an INFJ-T so we aren't exactly alike. lol)

INTERNAL LIFE:

What is their greatest fear? Life having no meaning

Inner motivation: To protect those she loves

Kryptonite: Rejection

What is their misbelief about the world? That she is more responsible for what happens to others then is true / Prone to taking blame onto herself

Lesson they need to learn: She must ultimately accept herself, not have herself worth live and die in accordance to other's opinions or what she can do for them

What is the best thing in their life? Faith

What is the worst thing in their life? Pre-Inquisition - Being directly responsible for her Father’s death, the person she was closest to prior Inquisition. He taught her to question myth and legend. Was teaching her more of Fen’Harel at a ruin when she accidentally killed him. Post Inquisition - Discovering her ex-boyfriend is the ancient mage/god figure she projected her hopes and dreams on.

What do they most often look down on people for? Thoughtlessness

What makes his/her/their heart feel alive? Discoveries of truth concerning history/reality

What makes them feel loved, and who was the last person to make them feel that way? Quality time – Most likely Sera her best friend.

Top three things they value most in life? Freedom, Knowledge, Passion

EXTERNAL LIFE:

Is there an object they can’t bear to part with and why? The Raven Necklace, Fen’Asha has always kept necklaces as symbols of her faith/life’s purpose. Originally the wolf necklace, symbolising her role in clan Lavellan, then Fen’Harel’s prayer stone necklace symbolising her devotion to the dread wolf, now the raven necklace which helped transport her to another world.

Describe a typical outfit for them from top to bottom. In the modern world - Keeps her hair in a ponytail, t-shirt and a jacket or cardigan depending on the weather. Jeans or shorts with boots

What names or nicknames has they been called throughout their life? Fennie, Inquisitits (Sera), FenFen (although I don't think I wrote that in anywhere, but it's what I call her)

What is their method of manipulation? Will attempt seduction.

Describe their daily routine. Get up, dress, eat, brush teeth, do hair, research/errands/work, lunch, research/errands/work, supper, visit with friends, shower, relax, sleep

Their go-to cure for a bad day? Have a drink, spend time alone

GOALS:

How are they dissatisfied with their life? In the story I'm working on - She is guarding her ex, Solas. She has a lot of resentment and distrust of him but also respects him, still feels a pull and hates that she does. It's a mad web of emotion, a lot of love/hate. But she can't get space cause she has to make sure he doesn't return to Thedas.

What would bring them true happiness or contentment? Death lol …More likely a new found family and Solas uncharacteristically dropping his mission to destroy Thedas as she knows it.

What definitive step could they take to turn their dream into a reality? She can open up to others, be vulnerable and find new loved ones.

How has their fear kept them from taking this action already? She is used to keeping her inner most thoughts to herself, she doubts others could really relate to her. As the first of clan Lavellan she was taught to hold herself apart to some degree in order remain objective.

How does they feel they can accomplish their goal while still steering clear of the thing they are afraid of? Share interests and passions, bond over a good drink and stories. She has a history of not sharing her spirituality for fear of judgement (especially when following her idea of Fen'Harel throughout Inquisition). Thus she avoids rejection since she rarely gives people the opportunity to reject her inner most world.

#oc questionnaire #fen'asha lavellan #dragon age #1000generations posts

[redinkofshame]

Fanfic Writers Appreciation Day

Ink’s Fic Recs

I’ve always wanted to be more supportive of the other creators in the fandom but I’m a slow reader and I have a shit memory. I can’t remember who writes what, what OC belongs to who, or if I’ve read something already. I decided to start tracking the works I was reading as a draft, just for my own reference, so I can participate in ask memes and stuff. But apparently it’s Fic Writer’s Appreciation Day, so I thought I’d share it!

This is no where near a complete list of fic I’ve read or enjoyed, just what I’ve read since I started doing this. I will continue to update it as I read. If you’re a mutual and/or someone who reads my fics please reach out and tell me to read your stuff if you’re not on this list!!

Also I just FINALLY got my AO3 subscription emails to work correctly, so hopefully I can actually start keeping up.

The vast majority of these will be Solavellan.

@blarfkey AO3 Solas/Ellana Lavellan  Dear Fen’Harel is the cutest damn thing. It’s supposed to be inspired by Dear Daddy Long Legs? Which I can only assume is cuter than it sounds, based on this fic. It’s not quite done, but getting close. There’s a museum date chapter that’s to die for.

@broomclosetkink AO3 Solas/Ellana Lavellan and Solas/Harea Lavellan I think this was the first Solavellan fic I ever read, and I’ve gone back to it a dozen times. I was frustrated with the relationship in game and had to google where people did fanfiction these days. NSFT, because that’s definitely was I was looking for at the time x.x

@ellstersmash​ AO3 Solas/Athi Lavellan I’ve only read one of fics so far but it was lovely! Some big Solavellan angst simmered down to give you just as much pain in smaller word counts lol. Great characterization of Solas, and Athi is very fierce.

@elveny AO3 Solas/Lyssa Lavellan (born in an alienage) Her Spark of Hope timeline covers Lyssa’s life from early childhood up to and including Trespasser, and honestly of all the fics I’ve read I think this is the most I’ve ever felt connected with the author through the work. What she chooses to touch or focus on reminds me so much of my own experience in the fandom.

@bardinhightown AO3 Solas/Naia Lavellan A very cute Beauty and the Beast AU set in France, called La Belle et La Bête and set in France. Not quite complete, but almost there. I really like the interpretation of the curse. I think the Lavellans count as human in this one? Open to interpretation I suppose.

@keturagh AO3 Solas/Pangara Lavellan Ket (frequently blamed) is working on a big Lore Meta I’m majorly looking forward to. In the mean time, they have many small fics covering the course of Pangara and Solas’ relationship, from domestic to kinky AF, through the Inquisition timeline.

@luzial AO3  Solas/Ellana Lavellan I powered through Luzial’s (and Maerisk’s) Overgrown faster than I’ve read anything in a long time. Ellana is a reporter and Solas is her expert consultant. No where near complete if I had to guess, but you gotta love a fic with both Enemies to Lovers AND Fake Dating.

@roguelioness tumblr AO3 Solas/Samarra Bayart, Solas/Thalia  and Elise/Cullen A Whole New World is a longfic of a modern woman falling into Thedas, with dark!Solas. Very long, and more to come. For Goodness Bakes is absolutely adorable. She’s also got some Cullen/Trevelyan and some Krem/Maryden. 

@thevikingwoman tumblr AO3 Solas/Iwyn Lavellan One of my best friends in the fandom, Viking has dozens of drabbles, perfect bite size pieces of friendship or romance for when you just need a moment to unwind. She’s got a very gentle Solavellan fix it I recommend. Iwyn is a dom can be found in canon, modern AU, or the ice skating AU! 

#I'm sorry the list is so short #I love you all #to be continued #master post #redink reading recs #If you've read my fics I want to return the favor #please self promote

[honeysofte-archieve]

endless minutes.

rating: mature. minor dni.

pairing: cremisius aclassi/female lavellan. written as my oc sage in mind but i kept the descriptions vague.

word count: 2,200

summary: Krem has needed to learn how to be gentle again. 

a tumblr repost! written originally in january last year. i didn’t reread this because otherwise i’d get embarrassed skjskj so there might be some old typos in there.

* * *

Krem’s armor weighs on him, wavers his steps all the way down to his small secluded room in the tavern. When he finally takes it off and peels the rest of the layers away, he sees how his skin is bruised and dented from the long battle and the journey back to Skyhold. It’s a sight that makes his breathing go shallow.

Krem wonders what Lavellan is doing at the moment and where she even is. It plagues his over exhausted mind. He misses her, always misses her like one would miss a phantom limb. It’s not a new feeling, but the sheer intensity of it makes it strange. He has never cared about anyone like this. Of course he loves the Bull and the rest of the boys, but it’s not comparable for this feeling underneath his ribs - like he will perish if he doesn’t get to have Lavellan safe and secure in his arms again.

He’s impossibly protective of her, would fight the world just for her to be able to close her eyes for more than six hours a night. He usually sleeps in her quarters even though the largeness of them makes him feel a little uneasy, like someone could jump them at any minute. Sometimes, too seldom, Lavellan joins him in Herald’s Rest for a drink and hides the night in his crowded room, just to have a moment of peace without someone demanding her up before the morning light. Just to get to sleep over dawn and wake him up with a sweet kiss to his nape.

Krem misses her already. He cares for her so much and he knows, he just knows it’s a feeling he will be buried in, no matter when he’s going to die.

in ao3. ♥

It’s small hours by the time she finally slips into his arms again. It's comforting, after so many long days and nights in the Wilds without her. Krem appreciates the feel of her bare body against his, the crown of her hair under his chin and the hands entwined between their chests.

“Hey,” Krem whispers and curls his arms more tightly around her and lets himself feel the bumps of her spine under his calloused palms. He presses a tender kiss on her forehead. Through it all, his heart is beating twice as hard as it should while resting.

“You’re warm,” she murmurs to his neck, words muffled and exhausted, breaths a slow stream. She’s just about to collapse from lack of sleep, Krem can tell.

“Everything okay?” he asks quietly, stroking her back soothingly.

Lavellan’s body is soft, not particularly muscled or hard, despite the time she spends in the sparring ring and battlefield. He swears he can hear her magic crackling in her inner core, though, as strange as it is. He doesn’t know a lot about that sort of stuff, but he knows she’s a skilled necromancer. It’s one of the things that scares and fascinates him the most about her.

“Yes,” she says, with a little delay, “just really tired. I think Josie took pity on me so she called off the meeting earlier than was intended.”

Krem hums under his breath and kisses her hair, can’t quite help himself from trying to offer comfort. She doesn’t necessarily need it, she’s the strongest person he’s ever known, but he likes to give her all that he is.

Lavellan yawns and after a moment Krem thinks she has fallen asleep, but then she asks, “Are you?”

His eyes are closed and he feels like he’s floating on a sea of nothingness. “Hm?”

Lavellan voice is but a murmur. “Are you alright?”

Krem considers his answer carefully. He decides to tell her the half truth: “Could be worse.”

Lavellan chuckles against his collarbone. She’s so sweet. “It always could. Doesn’t mean it’s not worth talking about.”

Krem considers her words. The Arbor Wilds were big and green and endless. “I was scared,” he admits with a little difficulty. He’s not used to giving his heart in a silver platter. “For you.”

Lavellan lifts her head from his chest and watches him closely, so closely it heat ups his neck. Her gaze is always so intense, it always feels like she’s trying to reach his soul with it.

Perhaps she can.

“I was with the chief and the other boys fighting the templar bastards outside that temple. It was fun, you know I like fighting with the boys. But the whole time I kept thinking about you and how you were. Got a few proper bruises to show for it, too.”

Lavellan’s hand is over one of them, a sore blue spot over his ribs. He sees her jaw flex, but she doesn’t offer to heal him, as he has always refused in the past. For anything serious he goes to Stitches, but otherwise he likes the reminders of a good fight.

Krem swallows. He covers Lavellan’s hand with his own. “I didn’t know if you were even alive.”

Lavellan is quiet as she often is in these kind of situations. She spares most of her words for the public that are eager for her attention, she’s a charismatic leader but like this, under the low light of the morning to come, wrapped in Krem’s arms - she only says things that matter.

Krem knows she’s not going to apologise. She can’t. He should be fine with that.

“I appreciate your concern,” Lavellan whispers as endless minutes has passed. Krem is grateful she doesn’t dismiss his fears as needless. He knows she can handle herself, better than anyone else he knows, but it doesn’t make him any less worried.

She cups his cheek with her impossibly small hand, strokes her thumb against the corner of his chapped lips.

She smiles. It makes Krem’s breathing get off track.

They share a look and the next thing he knows Lavellan has crawled on top of him and is kissing him with bottled up enthusiasm.

It’s not a surprise that Lavellan is the one to initiate it. She always is. She knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to go after it. Krem is different. He knows what he wants but doesn’t know how to ask for it.

He’s ridiculous but she doesn’t care, never has. She only laughs into his mouth, a quiet and a happy sound, and kisses him some more. It makes Krem burn with the intimacy of it all, of her damp lips against his too dry ones.

She’s pretty and needy underneath his battle rough palms and soil dirtied nails as he kisses her, the desperation of her voice meaningful to him. She’s small and lithe against him but not without curves and softness around her thighs and breasts, with a few lines of stretch marks and scars ornamenting them. She is beautiful and isn’t afraid to demand him everything he has. She’s fisting his hair to guide his mouth with however she wants it.

He wants to take care of her, in the way she deserves to - if only he knew the best way to do it without fucking it all up.

Things between them are still fragile and new. It has barely been a month when Lavellan first kissed him completely out of the blue after a few drinks as the chief and the others’ cheered and hollered at them. Even though it was only a matter of time when it would happen, it had surprised Krem thoroughly. So he had only stood there as still as a statue of Andraste until she took his hand and lead him to his own room.

Krem has needed to learn how to be gentle again, he almost forgot the skill after starting to do mercenary work for a living. There’s not a lot of space for tenderness or relationships in his kind of living style. He used to fuck with Stitches, casual and fun, sometimes with Dalish and Skinner before they were in love and happily exclusive. But this is different. In so many ways, he can’t count. Lavellan burns against him, skin glowing and smile breathtaking, naked and willing. Krem grips her bare ass with his palm, the shape of it plump with a bit of cellulite. Lavellan goes immediately breathless on top of him and tugs the collar of his night shirt.

“Can I take this off?” she asks. She always asks, despite Krem never saying no. He appreciates how thoughtful she is, how she makes sure he feels comfortable and safe before they go further.

“Yeah,” Krem murmurs and she helps him out of it by pulling from the sleeves, laughing as the shirt get caught around his ears. Krem takes off his pants with a little fumbling and then they are both naked in the bed together. Krem can feel his pulse floundering in his neck, but he’s not really nervous like this in front of her. Not anymore.

Lavellan sits on top of his stomach with her legs glued into his sides, keeping him still. She smiles down at him.

She’s breathtaking. Krem has never known anyone like her.

“You’re beautiful,” he gasps out, somewhat awed. Lavellan’s eyes are like a sunrise.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she says, voice teasing but gentle like she always is to him. But It has never made him feel like he’s being coddled. It's one of the things he hates the most.

Krem grins back. “Thanks, man.”

Lavellan chuckles, something resembling almost a giggle, as she leans down and bites down on his shoulder. It makes him immediately groan.

“Shit.”

 *

She opens her braid before it all and lets the long waves of her hair flow freely across her back, easily accessible. She also makes a fuss of finding and putting on some kind of lip balm that tastes like crystal grace before kissing him again with more purpose. After that it’s a mess of teeth and lovebites, hard and strong and tender and hot.

He will always remember how small she is on top of him, how he fears she’ll break from a touch too harsh. He will remember the feel of her breast on his palm, the wetness underneath his calloused fingertips, how she feels when he presses them inside, silky soft and molten. He will remember how she moans: needy and almost pleading, voice high with pleasure. He will remember the moment when she finally comes with a tight grip on his shoulder, with nails pressed into his flesh and toes curled. Most of all he will remember how she is completely breathless afterwards with slight sheen of sweat glistening on her skin and eyes dim and hazy. Beautiful.

Lavellan sighs her pleasure onto his lips and moves closer, always closer. Krem wraps his arms around her naked back and keeps her near as she comes down from her high, her body weak from her orgasm. A moment later she slides her hand to his inner thigh, the touch so light it almost tickles. She hesitates, just for a moment, and meets his eyes with her own.

Krem nods. She kisses the circle of freckles on his shoulder.

 *

An hour later he thinks what he should say to her.

Lavellan hasn’t fallen asleep yet, despite being wrecked by exhaustion. She’s always been a bad sleeper, she told him, when they first slept together and she kept rolling and moving around in bed. She has begun to take a potion for it, but she ran out in the Wilds. A lot of things ran out in the Wilds.

Yes, she is awake, face tucked into the curve of his neck, her finger drawing odd shapes onto his shoulder. He’s at a loss.

“I feel things for you,” is the sentence that leaves from his lips in the end. He flushes all the way down the back of his neck, but she doesn’t laugh at him. When he turns to look at her, she only smiles, kind and understanding, like he’s not an idiot with a cursed mouth.

Then Lavellan moves even closer to him and angles his face towards hers, so near that the tips of their noses touch. She looks at him with a considering expression before pressing a feather light kiss to his cheekbone.

“I feel things for you, too,” she murmurs with an air of seriousness, eyes tired but vivid with the honest truth of her words. Krem knows she means it, he can see it in her fond gaze before she closes her eyes again and snuggles closer to his warmth.

Krem smiles in a way he’s sure makes his dimples pop out. He kisses her forehead and tucks an idle hair strand behind her ear, fingering the curls falling down her scarred back like a river.

“Sleep now, fenor,” Lavellan says against his pulse point, the skin over it starting to flutter under her breaths. He shivers.

Shit. He cares for her so much, it makes him doubt his entire fucking existence. He feels stupid with it. He is stupid with it, yet he doesn’t regret her or any of this for a second.

They are worth it.

Krem smiles and welcomes in the morning.

#dragon age #da #da:i #lavellan #cremisius aclassi #krem x inquisitor #cremisius aclassi x inquisitor #*my writing #character. sage

[tabriscadash]

I was asked this on my old blog right as I set about transitioning to this one, so...

The first character I ever fell in love with: for DA:O, dare I say Daveth? What can I say -- I irrationally got incredibly attached to him. otherwise, DEFINITELY Morrigan, and I have crystal clear memories of my first run through Lothering and looking at Morrigan like 😍 the whole time. For DA:2/E, Carver -- unless you count Anders & Justice since I knew of them from Awakening beforehand, in which case probably Justice. For DA:I, it’s a toss-up between Vivienne or Cole -- I technically liked Cole first but SPECIFICALLY in the supporting material (Asunder), and didn’t vibe with him anywhere near as much in the game, AND I got him as a companion after I got Vivienne, so probably Vivienne.

A character that I used to love/like, but now do not: for DA:O, I guess Oghren? I never loved him, but I liked the idea of him because I really liked the dwarves/Orzammar side of DA’s worldbuilding -- but he’s such an unlikeable character that I just.. don’t vibe with him at all. I debate recruiting him every single time now, and I don’t think I ever do his personal quest (in the base game OR Awakening). for DA:2/E, I don’t really have anyone that fits -- but I REALLY wanted to like Merrill and Aveline more than I did, and especially in Aveline’s case, I can’t stand her and genuinely think she’s the unintended, secret Big Bad of the whole game. for DA:I, probably Cole, bc I was really into the idea of a little walking-corpse serial killer animated by a spirit as per the book, but that’s not really the vibe in DA:I, and combined with the somewhat patronising/ableist language and how significantly he is infantilised (including by the fandom) I just got put off him. I do still like him, but not as much.

A ship that I used to love/like, but now do not: for DA:O, I don’t really have one? I guess see my DA:I answer, lol... for DA:2/E, has to be Anders - I don’t think he’s OOC in 2, but I think his writing does so little with him and he feels v. reductive. Where his relationship could be SO interesting and angsty, it instead is written in a really dull and/or cringey way. It would have been nice to see Anders more like the Anders of Awakening near the beginning of the game (rather than random, infrequent and questionably rare snippets), and then see the progression of his relationship with Justice as the game went on -- I want more interesting abominations, PLEASE. for DA:I, listen I cannot express to you HOW EXCITED I was for my planned Lavellan to romance Sera… also I used to be way more tolerant of Cullen x Amell/Surana ships because, like, hey dark ships are fun, right? But since Cullen’s ~wholesome whitewash~ in DA:I, and his fandom clamouring to absolve him of any wrongdoing ever.. it’s boring to me.

My ultimate favourite character™: for DA:O, probably Sten? or Morrigan. They’re both fantastic, and also are significant comfort chars for me. for DA:2/3, honestly, probably my own Hawke -- I feel so hugely proud of her, and can’t imagine I’d enjoy the game anywhere near as much had I not played it as my Hawke. If not her, maybe Sebastian or Carver? for DA:I, I really love Vivienne, as well as Blackwall, and Solas is a great character even if I probably would not say I liked him.

Prettiest character: for DA:O, we all know it’s Zevran. for DA:2/E, I think Aveline -- although her aggressively bland colour-scheme lets her down in a major way (although I respect her dedication to all orange all day every day). There’s just something about her arms -- very Abby from TLOU:2. for DA:I, maybe Josephine? Ser Barris is very pretty, too...

My most hated character: for DA:O, I really didn’t like Alistair, Wynne and Oghren, and of my companions - Oghren is probably my least favourite. He’s vulgar and also profoundly uninteresting. for DA:2/E, it has to be Aveline. There’s just something about ineptitude and a complete, wilful refusal to take accountability for your actions that I can’t stand. It would be okay if it was an intentional character flaw, but the game/narrative treats her like she’s lawful good and it really annoys me. for DA:I, maybe Iron Bull? He was a huge disappointment for me. I also really dislike Sera, Cassandra, and Varric. I’m so sick of Varric - I never want to see him again.

My OTP: for DA:O, I really loved Zevran’s romance -- but I am also very amused by the fact that Leliana got to ‘love’ status with Kallian accidentally, AND I got the ‘love’ glitch for Justice (👀) and Velanna. I do sometimes wonder about an AU where Kallian is forced to make a politically expedient marriage with Nathaniel Howe for diplomatic reasons in order to consolidate her position as Arlessa, and it being an entirely platonic arrangement (it’s not like anyone expects an heir from an infertile Grey Warden) -- and maybe Zev and Nate kiss sometimes, who knows? I also LOVE my Darkspawn Chronicles AU where Kallian and Nelaros are a happy, married couple each hiding their skills with weapons from each other like dumb, cute sweethearts. They shelter Zevran when he fails to kill Alistair and a poly couple evolves. for DA:2/E, I love the IDEA of a Seb romance that isn’t so strictly conditional around the structures that abused him -- he should be allowed to love, chastely or otherwise, but free from the Chantry OR his position as prince/heir. I’d LOVE to actually have a romance with him where you can actually challenge the abuse he’s experienced. for DA:I, Malika doesn’t have a canon romance (although I think when I replay, I’m going to romance Josephine!) but I think Blackwall has an amazing romance. Solas’ is also iconic, it must be said. 

My NOTP: for DA:O, I really dislike Alistair in a shipping capacity; he’s immature and says a lot of misogynistic shit and I don’t think he’s the worst for it, but I don’t really vibe with shipping him, having played the game as a female city elf. for DA:2/E, I wouldn’t say I have one, particularly? although I really dislike Aveline’s relationship with her husband simply because it seems incredibly inappropriate, given that they work together and she has power over him -- and because I dislike her, generally, I don’t feel inclined to do something nice for her. for DA:I, I suppose Sera/Lavellan -- although I’m not AGAINST it, it just really isn’t for me, having attempted it. I also don’t really vibe with Dorian x Iron Bull. Something abt the way the game handled BDSM and their relationship banter specifically I don’t really like.

Favourite episode quest: for DA:O, probs Orzammar/the Deep Roads. I really love the dwarven lore! and, of course, Fort Drakon is really funny, even though it’s not canon in my game iirc. for DA:2/E, maybe the murder mystery with the serial killer, where ultimately Leandra dies? I also really enjoyed all the companion quests. for DA:I, The Descent (just, all of it, lmao) and everything to do with the Avvar. Crestwood also BANGED.

Saddest death: for DA:O, it’s frankly a fucking INJUSTICE that Shianni gets murdered if you make her Bann of the Alienage -- the idea of that happening whilst Kallian is in Amaranthine and unable to protect her :( genuinely very upsetting. I go back and forth on who is made Bann, tbf, so idk how canonical it is: I think maybe Cyrion would get it, but I’m also endeared to Soris holding the position, with Shianni as Hahren. for DA:2/E, Bethany. I wish both twins had had the chance to reach Kirkwall :(. Let Leandra die instead. for DA:I, maybe not the saddest death, but the most memorable for me was that one sleeping dragon in the Hissing Wastes.. leave her alone. Stay out of a womans’ business.

Favourite season game: DA:O!

Least favourite season game: DA:I.

Character that everyone else in the fandom loves, but I hate: for DA:O, Alistair. I cannot deal with his complacency and hypocrisy. for DA:2, I really disliked Merrill but I honestly cannot remember why. DEFINITELY Varric -- I hated how the game forces you to be his best friend, and if you’re low approval, you have to endure these pointless pissy little comments with this little anti-dwarf centrist pissant. After the expedition, I literally have no reason to put up with him, and I NEVER take him out. I hate that he plays the same role in DA:I, too. for DA:I, the Iron Bull was hugely disappointing, and I also really don’t vibe with Cassandra. She just seems very wishy-washy and complacent and hypocritical, and many of her comments about other cultures seem snide for literally no reason other than bigotry. 

My ‘you’re a piece of trash, but you’re still a fave’ fave: for DA:O, lbr probably Sten. Mans is gonna launch a HORRIFYING invasion in the next game iirc and frankly, I’m ok with it. Just wanna see that big bastard again ❤🥵. for DA:2/E, I LOVE Gamlen, ok? for DA:I, I am not sure if I have one.

My ‘beautiful cinnamon roll who deserves better than this’ fave: for DA:O, if any of you so much as LOOK at Velanna wrong, it’s hands. That includes Bioware. I also feel incredibly protective of and sad for Morrigan. for DA:2/E, probably Sebastian -- I feel so sad for him, and so frustrated by the limitations with the game. for DA:I, I’m honestly not sure.. maybe Josephine? I don’t really feel this way about Sera, but I do think she deserves better from the game and its writing, and also from fandom: there are valid criticisms of her, but the hate she gets is not proportional to any valid issues with her -- and gee, I wonder why that is.

My ‘this ship is wrong, nasty, and makes me want to cleanse my soul, but i still love it’ ship: for DA:O, I did use to find Cullen x Surana/Amell intriguing as a dark ship -- I actually hc that Neria Surana is actually Nelaros’ sister, and have dabbled with it as a dark ship. I also am interested in Loghain/Alistair - which each pretends the other is someone else. Alistair is wooby, hate ships are, in general, fun -- so long as we acknowledge that they are, indeed, unhealthy ships. for DA:2/E, I kind of feel like Sebastian romances are, invariably, kind of dark... and, similarly, Anders romances -- especially with certain red Hawkes, The way it ends is, invariably, bordering on fucked up. ALSO Hawkecest is weird and wonderful: GET WITH IT. 

My ‘they’re kind of cute, and I lowkey ship them, but I’m not too invested’ ship: for DA:O, I joked about Velanna x Leliana once and I’ve not been able to stop thinking about it ever since… Velanna x Sigrun is also something that can be so personal. Ariane x Finn is adorable and are paid DUST by Bioware AND fandom. I actually am really into Anora x Nathaniel & NO I will NOT explain myself; it’s a crackship but it’s MY crackship. for DA:2/E, Isabela x Fenris is super cute, but I don’t pay enough attention to them to really have super committed thoughts & feelings on them. for DA:I, Blackwall x Josephine is cute as a background ship; I also think Maryden x Cole is sweet.

#meta #mun

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

Fic writer tag game!

Thank you for the tag @wind-on-the-panes :)

How many works do you have on AO3? 17!

What's your total AO3 word count? 167350. It took me 15 minutes to figure out where to find this/the stats page.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Fallout from the Fade (744): Hawke stays in the Fade to deal with Nightmare’s demon... and survives. Getting back out however costs her more than she expects, and has drastic consequences. My long fic 

Provided it tied you down first (373): Inquisitor Trevelyan receives information that an important magister will be in a... compromising location, and has to blend in to get the information. She has to bring a mage along to help her, and her crush on Solas has nothing to do with why she picked him. This was a k!meme prompt and an experiment in writing smut/pwp, and people seemed to like it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Lost to night (235): After the events at the Winter Palace, Inquisitor Lavellan is both relieved the crisis is over, and exasperated with the court of Orlais. The only thing cheering her up is spending some extra time with Solas, and find themselves slipping away for some more private one on one time. When I was first getting into fanfic I mostly wrote generic protags. This fic was one of my first with writing specifically about my own Lavellan, and I like it for that reason :)

Less a Man than a Wild Cat (221): Fenris takes a trip out to the Storm Coast on some personal business... and a week later a cat with suspiciously familiar white markings in its fur storms into the Hanged Man and curls up in Hawke’s lap. I do still love this one, it was so fun to write. 

Banister Banter (218): POV/commentary from the other Inquisition members (like Dorian/Leliana) on the Inquisitor’s burgeoning relationship with Solas. Abandoned because I was trying to write humor and its very very very hard and I’m not great at it.

Do you reply to comments, why or why not? I MEAN TO AND I’M SO SORRY THAT I’M BAD AT IT... Before the Indoors Times of 2020, I spent almost all day out of service most weeks, including a lot of extended overnight trips. I also have a bad habit of saving comment replys as a “reward” for myself for whenever I finish writing the next chapter, but... my between updates time has been ever-increasing oops. ANYWAY SORRY, I do read and treasure them all. 

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? Ahahahahaaha... well I do try not to end them all on an angsty note just for, you know, the sake of everyone else. But with Letters to Fenris I did try to tear out the heart a bit, and my Mass Effect the people you love become ghosts inside you, and like this, you keep them alive fic I was trying to work through my emotions about my Shepard who picks the Destroy ending and dies. and i specifically headcanon she does die even though I did get the last breath scene because i think its more emotional/significant that way

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? Had to stop and scroll and I Don’t Write Fluff but I think the endings that are most positive are Less A Man Than A Wild Cat and Lost to Night. 

Do you write crossovers? Not yet, I might be tempted with something like a fairy tale but I’m not so interested in cross-fandom

Have you ever received hate on a fic? Not that I know of, though I know my delight in angst/pain will not be to all readers tastes and that’s perfectly fine

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes, if it fits the story or is the point of the work. But there’s gonna be ~complicated~ feelings or circumstances involved.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! Two of my fics are translated into Russian, Letters to Fenris and Fallout from the Fade :) 

Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, I write sporadically and at weird times, I think I’d be a nightmare to collaborate with

What’s your all-time favourite ship? I pretty much only have ships when it’s player character you get to design + another character, and you get to have some control over the narrative/there’s room for personal interpretation; which is why I only really write for Dragon Age/Mass Effect. Within those, I like Solavellan, FenHawke, and Shakarian; though there’s others I hope to write for and delve deeper into someday.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? I never published it because I know I’m unlikely to finish it + the Mass Effect: Andromeda fandom wasn’t as large/interested; but I still love the start of the WIP I have examining Ryder’s complex relationship with SAM.

What are your writing strengths? I like to think I’m good at building tension. My favorite part of writing Fallout from the Fade was the section where I ended every chapter on a terrible cliffhanger and people yelled at me in the comments. 

What are your writing weaknesses? I’m not funny :( in real life too, i have to rely on absurdism 

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? If there is a translation in the text and it’s not more than a few words or lines at a time I enjoy it. Otherwise it can pull me out of the narrative. 

What was the first fandom you wrote for? Dragon Age :) didn’t start writing fic until after DAI, 

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written? Fallout my baby I will finish you someday... I have a whole outline and thoughts on upcoming stuff and everything I’ve been holding in my head for a year, but I need to reread it before I get back to it, and lord am I short on free time these days :( I’ve seen a bunch of people already post these, so not sure who all has done this yet but: @roseategales @m-m-m-myysurana @lesbianarcana and if you haven’t yet but would like to, please consider this me tagging you and @ me so I can read it! :)

#tumblr games #fanfiction #my stuff #my writing

[5lazarus]

White Nights, Chapter 3: The Broadsheet

A year after Trespasser, Lavellan takes a new lover to a quiet inn in Val Royeaux. She steps out to the balcony for a quick smoke under the stars, looks over to the balcony adjacent to hers--and who is there but the Dread Wolf himself, slightly disguised, with a glass of wine? Despite themselves they talk, and do not stop talking.

“Entertain me,” Solas says. “What ending will Master Tethras write for us? Because I do not know how to leave this gracefully. Though I suppose any ending is better than the last one, when I left with your arm.” Chapter 3, The Broadsheet: Lavellan leaves, and Solas wanders. He goes to a barber shop, he is accosted by a drunk young man, and settles down to read at the Cafe Vhenadahl--where all roads in Val Royeaux lead.

Read on AO3 here. Click for Chapter One and Chapter Two.

She leaves and he lays down on the pier listening to the tide til he can breathe again. He should not have come here, but how often he thinks that, how often he regrets. The city will wake soon, and she will leave, and he will have only a miracle to marvel over--that they were contemporaries, born three millennia apart, that what was once an encampment of wattle-and-daub turned into plaster islands. What a miracle, that these vast blinking buildings witnessed the two of them talk. He pulls himself up and crosses his legs, forcing himself to stare out to the horizon and ignore the city at his back. It does no good to mythologize. Val Royeaux has grown. It has witnessed many great loves. She had met her husband here, Solas knows. He cannot pretend he has marked this landscape for her, and he cedes that his interpretation of this place is now totally shaped by her. He may have been here first, of course, catching a glimpse at those rather fetid quicklings, but she has made this world hers.

Solas thinks, I live in a world of her intervention. His lips quirk into a rueful smile: is a pun bad if there is no one else to hear it? Don’t think about what she would think. Invention, intervention:  he sees is, shapes it in his image, and she intervenes. The black sky begins to purple, and the horizon becomes distinguishable. Solas stands up and stretches his weary back. He is growing old by everyone’s standards. He strokes his beard thoughtfully. Truly he should not have underestimated their ability for recall. He always assumed he was little more than a pair of pointed ears to the Inquisition, and that if he softened his strongest features, he could pass unnoticed. Arrogant, foolish, he sighs. It had been fun while it lasted. He needs to get a shave, and barbershops have always been wonderful places to measure the pulse of a place. He does like to wax dramatic about battlefields and the like, but he loves the little clinging wisps who bite, curious, into a memory of a vain man regretting his weak chin, or a woman laughing as she is presented with a balding head. He touches his hairline self-consciously. He is aging, by everyone’s standards. Perhaps he should shave it again too. The things of the body distract from the unsolvable misery of the mind. He turns back into the Val Royeaux alienage, thinking about dying. The world has been in decay: true, but what is living but a slow death? It is moronic, cheap philosophy, an excuse for despair. He has met a woman he would rather not live without, and so, chose a quicker death. Mythal’s justice will see that his sacrifice has meaning. Solas passes by a shrine built into a recess in the wall and pauses, curious to see whom it commemorates. The All-Mother as the dragon stands, wings outstretched, flanked by two halla rampant. All three stone figurines are garlanded with flowers. Mythal wears a necklace of what the humans call Andraste’s Grace. Ghilan’nain wears embrium. In the plaster framing the shrine, someone scratched a snarling wolf, directed towards the docks and the alienage exit. Solas sours. He ripped the world asunder so the people may be free. He thought he had banished the remnants of the false gods to the Beyond, locked in the eluvians of Arlathan. He had thought wrong. All that remained of Elvhenan were its most egregious acts: the brand of the vallaslin and the haughty silence of their gods. And he is not even allowed within, he who had shaken them to freedom in the first place. But isn’t freedom a sin? His agents tell him of the horror and disgust they felt, when they found that the vallaslin was a slave mark--that that was what their revered ancestors had decided to preserve. Some petty lordling kept marking his serfs, even as their cities fell out of the sky, and that was all that remained--the need to brand ownership on each other. Solas clenches his fists, the usual rage stirring his skin too taut. He ripped away what had made them them. Brutality was his only legacy. As soon as he fell into uthenera, the People fell upon each other--and to Tevinter, and to the Chantry, and to the Blight. He mutters to himself, “Banal nadas,” and walks away from the shrine. Nothing is inevitable. The Void is inevitable. Small comfort, in times with little comfort: but he must endure. Solas walks through the quiet shuttered streets, pulling his cloak around him. He huffs. He does not enjoy journeying through the night anyway, not as he had as a youth. He likes to sleep, not only because his body only seems set and under his own agency when he returns to the Fade, but because each day takes so much from him. He is not so lost as he had been with the Inquisition, he tells himself, but of course he does not know where he is in these spiralling streets, he does not know where he has left his heart, he does not know when he will return to that hotel. He had not left anything he needs, he could keep moving. He cannot afford the risk of seeing her again, but of course he must, because he finds himself tracing her footsteps. This had been her home. She had lived here for her most formative year, learned that Orlesian drawl from quietly serving in the kitchens of the Val Royeaux nobility, met the father of her children and galvanized her whole life. Solas puts a hand over his face, grimacing. She is dying, she will die anyway. When he raised the Veil, he took away her right to life. His beard feels greasy, like costume make-up. He catches sight of himself distorted in a puddle and sighs. He had always been minimalist in his appearance, besides his dress armor, which is admittedly ridiculous. Mythal had commissioned that for him, and he had loved her for it, because it was exactly the sort of camp he adores. He looks at the gray in his hair and his beard and smiles ruefully. He has grown too old for that flamboyance, perhaps, though he will always love a dramatic costume. But this is who he is now: a tired man, running sick in middle age, wearing muted but well-tailored robes. His head itches and he wrinkles his nose. It was popular both in Elvhenan and this strange new world for men to shave their heads; back then, it had made him anonymous. But now he is too tall, and Lavellan always told him his swagger is unmistakable. He once heard Iron Bull giggle to Dorian that he shakes his ass while he walks, which well--it is amusing that Iron Bull was looking. Solas resolves suddenly to shave his head and beard. There is no point in keeping the hair if he is still recognizable with it--yet another useless vanity, like how well-fitting his tunic and leggings are. Luckily, the barbershops of Val Royeaux are still open. They are part of the social fabric of the city and the alienage, and he stops at the first one he finds. The occupants glance at him curiously: a man reading a cheaply-printed broadsheet that he recognizes as Lavellan’s own paper, a barber carefully cutting a woman’s hair, and a half-undressed harlequin, who has taken off their cowl but not their greasepaint. Solas smiles slightly. He does enjoy what has become of Val Royeaux. The barber is talking politics, as one does. He looks up briefly to flick Solas with his eyes to the next chair. Solas sits in the chair and makes himself comfortable. He watches and listens. “Mythal knows Briala won’t be able to keep Gaspard in check for much longer,” the barber says. The woman, his customer, grunts. “Particularly with the Inquisition troops discharged. Mind, I don’t mind having those boys back in the Dales, especially since they know how to be led by an elf. Pious, sure, but not hateful. But what will they do when the guards come? What shem turns against their own kind?” “The Divine did,” the man with the broadsheet says. He folds it in half, ink on his fingers. “She restored Shartan.” The woman snorts. She sits up in her chair and pushes the barber’s hand away. Turning to him, she says, “Lovely. So we can go into the Chantry and sing Shartan’s canticle in Orlesian now, and if you want your daughter can join and spread the Maker’s light.” “Not my daughter,” the man says, amused. “She’s going to Manon’s school, and the Keeper’s college after that.” “Then you see my point,” she says. “The emptiness of the gesture. We’re allowed to worship in their spaces. What about our own? I’d believe it if she had them all singing Shartan in Dalish Tevene.” “Do you even know Dalish Tevene?” the barber snorts. “Not even those Fen’Harel types speak that.” Solas watches silently. The man with the broadsheet asks, “Which types? Fen’Harel’s Teeth or those...agents of the god? Because I’ve met Imladris Ashallin, and heard her sing it in the original--her Mahanon wrote the music, remember him?” “The god’s people.” The barber waves the scissors at him. “That cult that keeps prophesying a new Elvhenan. I’ll take the Freemen of the Dales over that nugshit. Who cares what we were two thousand years ago? If Briala doesn’t do something soon, we’re all fucked. You remember what they did to Halamshiral. I’m telling you, if you start seeing guards at the gates again--it’s time to run.” Solas crosses his legs and holds his head up. “Where?” he asks. “Where will you go if the guards block the gates? Where will you go if the fight comes your way?” The barber says, “You want a trim or a shave? Looking a little greasy, lethallin.” The harlequin suddenly gets up and heads to the back. The woman in her chair sighs and stands. She pats the back of her bobbed hair, and swings her head side to side. “Good job,” she says. “Loved the talk. Now, I’m going to head to the Vhenadahl and see if the revelry’s stopped. By now, they’ll be playing the ballads, and you know how I like to be sad.” She pays. Solas recognizes the flash of coin as a new mint. It has a Dalish mask etched onto it. He knows they are popular in the alienages across the Chantry’s remit. He knows few use them outside what passes as elvhenan. The barber says, “So. Shave? Haircut? Both?” “Both,” Solas says. “As you said yourself--I have seen better days.” He leaves the shop a few coins lighter and a copy of the broadsheet under his arm. Dawn is breaking. The wind is cool against his scraped skin. He wanders towards the center of the district, picking out narrow side streets, pondering what he has heard. The elves of Val Royeaux remember the pogroms, what the Inquisitor had called the Harrowing of Halamshiral, and he knows the emperor’s men hunt Dalish for sport when the Marquise is otherwise detained. He has had plenty of Dalish come his way, seeking justice otherwise denied to them, and though he has no plans for war with Orlais once Tevinter and the Qun are finished throttling each other, perhaps he should coach his recruits to change their approach. Religiosity certainly works amongst the slaves of Tevinter and the disenchanted of Ferelden. In Orlais, they need something more ecumenical. He has never been fond of cults, but has allowed his lieutenants to adapt to their condition as they deem fit. It is clear he must instill some sort of discipline, because this reputation has gotten well out of hand. He would rather they call them terrorists than cultists. Elvhenan will return, not from the devotion of the People, but their sheer bloody-mindedness. Dawn creeps rosy-fingered through the blue as best it could. Solas’ leg aches, a very ancient injury, and he stops to stretch. He glances worriedly upwards, anticipating rain, and then someone flings himself over his leg. Solas grabs him by the collar and steadies him onto his feet. “Ma serannas, hahren,” the young man says. “I am very drunk.” Solas is amused despite himself. “I can smell that,” he says. The boy smells very strongly of aniseed, and his collar is stained. He is carelessly good-looking, in a way that makes Solas envy his lost youth. It has been a very long time since those white nights spent carousing through Arlathan, between endless campaigns and before the last war. The drunk young man stares at him blearily. “The bald,” he says. “It suits you.” Solas laughs. “Yes,” he says. He nudges him gently forward, but the man slopes and grabs at him unsteadily. Solas instinctively takes him by his wrists. The young man licks his lips. Solas very quickly releases him, but does not back away. He does not want to give him a reason  to step closer. “You have eyes like a pride demon,” the young man says. “Do you want to get a drink?” Orlesians: Solas cannot stop himself from groaning aloud. Besides the hidden truth that Solas is at least three millennia his senior, he looks at least twice his age. Solas himself had always fished around the young, when he was a wild youth. “No,” he says. “Please sober up.” “Now you really do sound like my father,” the young man says. Solas says, “Have you ever met a man called Dorian Pavus? I do truly think you would enjoy each other.” “Ugh,” the young man says. “I am done with dread Tevenes with flighty hearts. I will--fling my emotions to the dungheap,” he demonstrates, pressing both hands to his chest and flinging them out, “and then seek passion only for passion’s sake. No intimacy, no late-night confessions, no building plans.” Solas is intrigued despite himself. Mythal would call it his insatiable appetite for gossip; Solas prefers to think it is his generous love for people, in all their forms. The drunk young man sees his interest. “Yes, for he wanted to go into business, in my own father’s house! As if my father would ever condone the match.” He feels like he has stepped into the prologue of some wonderfully silly Orlesian opera: a prodigal son, a forbidden love, and an angry father. Solas asks, “What sort of business?” The boy smiles. “Mask-making, of course. For the elves of Orlais.  To celebrate the dawn of the restoration of our natural nobility. I could make one for you, though you have such an interesting face, it’d be a shame to mask it.” He laughs, staggering back a bit. “Love and profit! What am I saying? My father would love the opportunity. True artisans, we could become. Who cares that he’s Tevene, and at least three-quarters shem? He loves me, and I might love him!” It is almost a tragedy that this boy met his “dread Tevene” rather than Master Pavus, though Solas knows he is quite happy with his occasional rendezvous with the Iron Bull. He empathizes with the boy: he has loved many people, but that has not made them partners. Love does not necessarily make a relationship steady enough to commit. He hesitates, Lavellan as always a step away from his mind. She would be utterly amused by this scene. He wishes he could tell her. She looked like she needs to laugh. “Da’len,” Solas says, “it would be better if you do than if you do not. Take what happiness you can, while this world still lasts.” “Fenhedis,” the young man says, “you’re not one of those Fen’Harel cultists, are you?” He waves a hand dismissively at him, as uniquely Orlesian as any courtier Solas spotted at court. “Go off to your reckoning, lethallin, I’ve got my life to live.” Solas says, “I truly hope you do,” and walks away. The morning has come upon him, thin and cool. Solas is irritated from lack of sleep and, he must admit, the blow to the ego this night has been. What had he expected? Lavellan always surprises him, leaving wrong-footed and reaching for excuses like he has never had before. The elves of Val Royeaux view him with disdain, and brand him a hypocrite. He has not amassed a cult. He has always avoided the worship, even when Mythal would force him to perform, and it has been a long time since he has been bound by the vallaslin. He touches his face, comfortingly smooth. Removing the brands left little scarring. What remains are his own mistakes. He has bungled the whole approach, but at least he has learned a lesson: though flamboyant and cynical like the People always were, the elves of Val Royeaux do not trust any lost promise, not like the Dalish of the Dirth, or the elves of ravaged Halamshiral. They may be doubtful of Briala, but they trust in her, even as they prepare to flee when she fails. Solas sighs. He wonders how so many have heard of his agents so quickly, and how their reputation has been so quickly established. He glances at the broadsheet he took from the barbershop. Perhaps this cheap printed pamphlet will answer his questions--and he has always enjoyed an excuse to analyze how Lavellan’s mind works. He ambles to the Vhenadahl and finds himself a table at a near-by cafe. Val Royeaux is renowned for its cafe culture, and its alienage is no exception. The waiter insists on bringing him a milky cup of java, some drink the Qunari popularized, after their expansion into Seheron, and a fresh croissant. He folds the paper and begins to read the editorial, written by the woman he unabashedly still loves: “The Dread Wolf does not lie but omits the truth. I should know. I slept with him.” He snorts. He continues to read, sipping gingerly at the cup, “We know the truth that our gods were slavers and our markings the mark of our ancestors’ slavery. But, my people, we are not our ancestors. The Dalish wear the vallaslin with Pride,” the missprint catches his eye, “because we know it is the mark of those that survived. Though he does not understand it, he has let the children of his fallen empire survive more wholly than they could have under any reformation of ancient Elvhenan. Because the people, the ordinary laboring people, who fought for their freedom to begin with, outlasted those that had bound them to their will. Shartan rose, and in constant mien’harellin the People have followed. We know that though we are occupied, we have never been truly conquered. For we are the Elvhen, and never do we submit.” Solas places the broadsheet down onto the table and slams his hand over it, angry now. He stares unseeingly at the piazza, barely registering the flowering Vhenadahl reaching taller than even the alienage walls. The slow arrow has struck, and he is the monster. Felassan clearly got around more than he assumed. Felassan knew Briala, and Briala knows Lavellan. He had never supposed them such good friends, but of course they must be strategizing together. Briala wants her Elvhenan firmly in Orlais, and Lavellan--Lavellan always has the world to save. But he does, too. She must have written it, because she folded a compliment into it. He looks at his hands and sees the ink has smeared onto them. Sighing, he dips a cloth napkin into his water and washes his hands and face. At least the croissant is fresh. At least this city is beautiful. At least she is his contemporary. The wind takes up, and he closes his eyes and breathes in the taste of the sea and petrichor. When he opens them, the rain has begun, and he draws into himself to keep warm. Solas wraps a hand around the cup and takes a sip. It is bitter, but it makes him feel better. The rain dots the flowers held in pots delineating the cafe grounds; he brushes a drop off a pansy. It is good to be alive. He does not deserve it, but it is good. The rain whispers the early morning, and Solas leans back in his chair and revels in it. He has the cafe almost entirely to himself, and the waiter approaches his table to watch others scurry from the Vhenadahl and their stoops and their balconies. Shutters close and other shutters reopen. A woman with bobbed hair glances out from one window. Solas recognizes her, she does not see him, and after surveying the piazza, she closes the window firmly. He smiles: such life, all beyond him! He supposes she found her revelry. A human man and an elvhen woman dart into the cafe. They are clearly together, but they do not touch. The man reaches for her hand when they settle at a table, her back to Solas, but he sees the woman pull the way. “What do you want?” Lavellan says. “I didn’t mean for this to turn to such shit.” Solas quietly leaves his table and pays his bill at the bar wordlessly. He leaves, knowing it would not matter if he hides his face--she has his walk memorized. He glances at their table .She is reaching for Anders’ hand now, and as he goes she looks up. His eyes meet hers but she looks away.

#solavellan fanfic #solavellan #solas #lavellan #anders #val royeaux #dragon age fanfic #dai #fanfic #post trespasser #white nights

[valkyrieofthehighfae]

Horseshoes, Hand grenades, and Gargoyles

Summery: Hally Lavellan has been hired to take on a clan of gargoyles on her own. Explosives and chaos ensue and the elven woman finds herself in a world of excitement.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Violence, language

Tagging: @thearohandmaiden, @capricornrabies, @notreallybeccab, @meshlamando​​

It was late when I got the call from Keres’ guard, Sylvain I think his name was, requesting my assistance in an important matter. I was a little confused as to why the Blood Fae was requesting for my help exactly since, y’know, elves and Fae don’t like each other much, but I was getting paid, so I wasn’t about to turn him down.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, did you say you’d pay me to make weapons and go kill a clan of gargoyles? Fuck yes! I get to make things explode, this is the happiest day of my life!” I was grinning widely at the big guy’s words, absolutely excited to get paid to blow shit up. This was the dream! “When do you need me? Uh huh. Okay, I can be there in a week. No, no, it’ll only take me twenty minutes tops to make everything I need, it’s the ride there that’s gonna take that long. And, uh, convincing Rune that this is a good idea. My fee is six thousand gold to cover expenses on materials, travel, and on the offhand that I lose a limb doing this. Well, another limb anyway.” I rubbed my right arm, wincing at the thought of going through another loss of a limb. One prosthetic was more than enough, thank you.

“Brilliant! I’ll get to work and see ya in a week.” I ended the call and jumped to it, grabbing my sketchpad and began designing a grenade launcher and rocket launcher of my own design, turning on my music and cranking it loudly as I got to work, welding and hammering, singing along with the tunes excitedly. I was so into my work, I didn’t notice Rune at first until she was turning my music off, startling me.

“Lahalaan Lavellan, I have been yelling at you for the past twenty minutes. What are you doing?” Rune had her hands on her hips, glaring daggers at me and I winced a little bit, grinning awkwardly.

“I’m making a grenade launcher and rocket launcher. I just got a call from Keres’ guard about hiring me to make them and go kill a clan of gargoyles!” I didn’t falter under her glare, my baby sister not as intimidating as she thought she was.

“I-I’m sorry, you what?” She was staring at me like I’d grown a second head and I assumed she hadn’t heard what I told her.

“I was hired to make a grenade launcher and go kill gargoyles.” I was ecstatic over the idea, I had been dying for a little action, it had been so boring lately, so this was going to be a blast. So to speak.

“I… do you have a plan at least?” Rune wasn’t even shocked at this point, she just rolled with it. Guess she was too used to my shenanigans for anything to surprise her anymore, which was mildly disappointing. I needed to do better about keeping her on her toes clearly.

“Yes!” I grinned then stopped for a moment and frowned a bit. “No… Yes!” I had to cycle through a couple of thoughts for a moment before coming to a full decision, but I was almost certain that I had at least half a plan put together.

“This is either madness, or brilliance.” Rune was pinching the bridge of her nose at my response, her voice sounding tired and resigned.

“It’s remarkable how often those two traits coincide with each other.” I pointed out, much to her irritation clearly with that groan she let out before walking out of my workshop, grumbling in elven. I chuckled softly before turning my music back on and getting back to work on my project, wanting to get it all completed and ready to go.

~*~*~

One week later, Rune and I were riding up to the palace on our harts, the two of us looking up at the famed Scarlet Keep with wide eyes.

“Whoa. It’s so much bigger than I was expecting it to be,” I muttered in elvish to Rune, who nodded slowly, eyes the size of dinner plates as we got closer to the keep. Waiting outside for us was Keres, the Blood Fae queen grinning as we hopped off the harts and approached her, the Fae hugging us tightly.

“What are you two doing here? I wasn’t expecting to host you! Not that I’m unhappy to see you, of course, I’m glad you two are here.” Keres stepped back, puzzled now that our greetings were over and done with.

“We’re here to kill gargoyles!” I was beaming. “Well, okay, I’m here to kill gargoyles. She’s here to make sure I don’t blow myself up.” I pointed at Rune and Keres just stood there, head slightly tilted, and brow furrowed.

“I’m… sorry? I don’t recall asking you to come do that?” Keres was puzzled, trying to determine when she asked us to be gargoyle exterminators.

“You didn’t. I did,” Sylvain came walking out, dressed in that imposing ass armor of his that had Rune shifting closer to me, hiding a little bit from the intimidating Fae. “Got here just in time too. Do you have what you need?”

“Oh yeah,” I grinned motioning to the grenade launcher and rocket launcher plus the bag of ammo. “So, where’s our quarry? Oooh I sound like a bounty hunter when I say it like that.”

Rune rolled her eyes and shook her head, smacking me upside the head lightly, earning a scowl from me as I rubbed my noggin where she smacked me.

“You know, how’s Opal gonna feel about you being this stoked to kill gargoyles?” Rune inquired with a cocked eyebrow, bringing up our gargoyle friend in the Court of Stars. I opened my mouth to reply, then shut it again, thinking that over. What if this was her clan we were about to murderize?

“We don’t tell her about this…?” I ventured after a moment of awkward silence and Rune sighed heavily, rubbing her temples. The frustration was palpable and Keres snorted a little bit, muttering that this reminded her of her and Ajax a bit. “Anyway, let’s get moving! I wanna get going while there’s still daylight.” I pulled a map out of the bag I had with me and unfolded it so Sylvain could mark where we needed to go.

“We managed to take out quite a few of them, but I don’t know how many are left. There’s this old ruin they took over as their home, your best bet would be to start there.” Sylvain took my pen, marking the map and trail we needed to use.

“Brilliant. I’m expecting half of my payment upfront and the other half upon completion. You good with that?” I folded the map back up, handing it over to Rune, and accepted the small leather pouch he handed over, tossing it up in the air a few times, before palming it and sliding it into my bra. “Onword, Buttercup! There’s fuckery to spread!” I was cackling, scrambling up onto my hart’s back while Rune groaned.

“Only Varric gets to call me ‘Buttercup’, Hally.” She muttered darkly as we took off, waving at Sylvain and Keres. This was going to be intense and I was a little nervous; these were old elven ruins, who knows just how many gargoyles were there calling it home. I was almost a little nervous that I hadn’t made enough ammunition for this job, what if there were more gargoyles than originally planned on? I was getting too into my own head over this, I needed to pull myself together and focus on the job at hand. Just had to get through this and we’d be six thousand gold richer. Could use it to buy Rune a new bed since she and Spooks broke hers on accident, maybe stock up on some more supplies for the clan. This was going to be just fine.

~*~*~

“Was this part of the plan?!” Rune bellowed, hurling a fireball at a group of gargoyles hot on our heels as we raced through the elven ruins.

“No! No it was not!” I shouted back, turning long enough to hurl an explosive behind us, yelping as we got tossed forward from the blow back. We scrambled to our feet and took cover long enough for me to load up the grenade launcher and fire it off, wincing slightly from the kickback.

“You don’t even have a plan!” Rune realized quickly, hitting my arm angrily. I smacked her back, glaring at the pissed off mage and shook my head a little bit, trying to do some calculations in my head.

“I do too! Sort of!” I didn’t have shit but she didn’t need to know that. I was at least trying to come up with something, but thinking was a little hard when I was currently having to keep an eye out on my surroundings for fucking gargoyles. Now I got why Sylvain wanted this place cleared out, this clan was huge.

“Oh, brilliant, so you have half a plan?!” She conjured up a blizzard to slow them down and I crammed another grenade into the launcher, getting it set up for round two.

“Even better! I have a quarter of a plan!” No I fucking didn’t, I didn’t have shit. I was flying by the seat of my pants here and was winging this job.

“Brilliant! We’re gonna die!”

“There’s that Rune optimism I love! We’re not gonna die, it’s gonna be fine!” I lied through my teeth with a devilish grin. Had to keep my little sister reassured that we would be fine, that I was going to keep us safe. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait. I’ve got an idea! Rune, start running!” I grabbed the rocket launcher, getting it set up and fished out some smoke bombs I’d made, yanking the pins and hurling them over our cover while Rune sprinted towards the exit. I took aim at the roof of the ruins, took a deep breath and fired the rocket, tossing the weapon aside and hauling ass as fast as I could after Rune as the ruins came down around me, Rune thankfully outside.

“Hally?! HALLY!”

I burst out of a cloud of smoke, dirt, and debris, coughing hard and collapsed to my knees, trying to catch my breath, and looked over my shoulder. There was no way any of them would have survived that, it took out the entire building, making it collapse in on itself.

“Sorry you can’t study that particular ruin, sis. Told you I had a plan.” I panted, taking her outstretched hand and getting to my feet. “Was it a good plan? No, no it wasn’t. But it worked!”

“You pulled that out of your ass right then and there, didn’t you? There was never any plan, you just went in without thinking. Well, okay, I say you weren’t thinking, but you definitely were thinking. Thinking about one thing: explosions. As per usual with your damaged brain.” She took her staff and hit me in the head with it, making me yelp.

“Why do you have to hit me?! That’s not gonna make me any smarter!”

“It might if I hit you hard enough!”

“Let’s just go collect the rest of my money please. I need a shower. And we have a week-long ride home. Hey, think Keres will let us stay at the palace tonight?” I asked and Rune just threw her hands into the air, stalking off without answering. “Rune? C’mon, what do you think?” I called after her retreating back, breaking into a jog to catch up with her, hoping that Keres would be cool and let us crash there for a night. Fighting gargoyles was a lot tougher than I’d originally thought and I wanted a shower and a nap.

#Kat writes #Keres Cirillo #Sylvain Broussard #Hally Lavellan #Rune Lavellan #Hally and her explosives

[atilla-da-honey]

Dragon age fans!

Tell me your unique/wierdo Dragon Age head canons! Gush about your Warden's/Hakwe's/Inquisitors! If you want, tell me a little story/ficlet about your characters or OTP's!

I just want that jucy DA content. I don't care if its off the rails bullshit crazy, completely and utterly mundane or tropey and cliche, if its Dragon Age and you wanna talk about it I WANNA LISTEN. Can be your canon's or just an idea you like!

Feel free to tag people!

I'll go first! (This turned out longer than I meant, you can legit just write a short sentence summary i don't care)

"Treya Lavellan was First to her clan as a child. It was super stressful for her because she wasn't magically powerful enough to keep up with the needs of the Clan but at the time she was the only option so it was her duty. She felt extremely insecure and embarassed about her lack of talent and was frequently tired and iratable as she constantly pushed herself to the point of exhaustion.

When Treya was 17, the Clan was approached by a city born elf woman and her son. The son was a mage and the mother said that Templars had been known to kill mages from Alienages rather than go to the trouble of taking them all the way to the circle. She had hidden him for years but her husband discovered the magic recently and wanted the boy out. They had several other children and she couldn't leave them, but she had heard that the Dalish do not fear magic and she begged Deshanna to take on her son Maharial. He was only 15 and had a lot of magical potential, and Dashanna considered it to be a great blessing.

Treya was...conflicted.

It was soon apparant that this flat eared child was going to end up replacing her. After years of training, of struggeling to pick up even the basics, he came in like an eager little whirlwind and blew everybody away with how quick and capeable he was. Magic was so easy for him, but more than that he was charming, soft spoken and polite where Treya was thought to be something of a no-nonsense hardass, something her near constant exhaustion didn't help.

He dedicated himself to The creators, he ate up her Pape's stories abiut the glory of Elvhenan and The Dales, he deffered to the wisdom and advice of the Haren with dignity and grace.

And Treya HATED him for it.

She didn't want to. She knew she was being jelous and unfair and that he was an elf and had every right to claim his place amoung the people. She even knew that he was far, far better suited to the role of first than she would ever be.

But she still hated him for it.

One day she lost her patience. She, Deshana and Maharial were seeding the grounds with their magic to clear the hidden paths so the Aravels could move. It was a task she had been performing since her magic manifested at 6, and it was a long, sustained spell that they would have to hold for hours at a time.

Maharial noticed her flagging and innocently started giving suggestions on how to better apply the spell in order to better concerve her mana and she lost it.

"I don't need your fucking input you pushy, obnoxious flat ear! I have been first of this clan since before you even knew it was possible for an elf to have dignity!"

Everybody froze.

Treya knew she'd fucked up. She knew it. But she was proud and insecure and stupid and so she doubled down.

"What? I'm not going to sit here and hear advice falling from a mouth that has probably spent more time sucking human dick than -"

*SLAP*

It wasn't Mahanon. Or Deshanna.

It was her Pape.

Her soft, gentle Pape, who kept the hearth and sung their history to the Clan. He had never once raised his voice at her, and he did not do so now.

"Treya, First of Lavellan, Daughter of mine and apprentice to our Keeper, you will apologise to this boy this instant."

Treya was numb.

Her eyes filled with tears.

She fled.

In the end, it was Mahanon who found her. Her father had advised to give her some time and reassured him that he was one of them and that she was out of line. It was kind.

He knew The First didn't like him but she usually just kept it to a frosty silence.

He found her crying, her staff cast aside and her head hidden in her hands. She wouldnt meet his eyes.

"I don't know why I said that." She whispered softly.

"You hate me." He said with a shrug.

"I dont mean to. I dont even want to. You just....showed up one day, and you are better at things I've been trying to master my whole life. The clan loves you effortlessly."

"So you're what...jelous? Of me? Thats... ridiculous. Its not effortless." He sat down next to her. For once he looked as exhausted as she did. "You realise you're not the only one who hates me because I'm from a city right? Not three nights ago I heard Haren Loril trying to talk Deshanna into giving me the boot. Says my lineage is in question, whatever that means.... Mother told me to do everything in my power to be accepted. To be exactly as they want me to be. But im not like you. Im not serious and sensible, I don't know how anything here is susposed to work and you are unlike any elves I have ever known. I don't know how to belong here. So I say what I think they want to hear. That I love living here, that I don't miss the alienage...that I never believed in the Maker anyway and all your elven Gods give me courage and hope.

But its not true. I'm tired Treya. I miss my family and I want to go home. Void, I'd happily suck a human cock if I could just go home. But I can't.

You idiots already taught me to value freedom above all else. I'm not going to let some templar kill me or drag me to a circle just because I couldn't get you lot to like me."

She felt even more shame. It was easy for her to forget that he didnt materialize out of thin air with the express desire to ruin her day, that he'd come to the clan seeking their protection.

She was a poor First.

"I don't want you to die or to go to a circle." She said, tentatively.

"Thats an incredibly low bar, but I'll take it." He returned with a tired smile.

"I'm....sorry. About what I said. About what a shit I've been. It must have been difficult to leave your family and I certianly didn't make you feel welcome."

"Yeah you've been a bit of a total bitch." He said with a wide grin. "But you know, winning over the clans terrorfing First who hates me would make a great impression on the others. What do you say, do over?" He reached a hand towards her, his eyes met hers with a lot more uncertainty than she would have expected.

"Yeah. Ok. Do over."

Eventually, Mahanon did take Treya's place as First. By the time it happened she could admit that it was a relief. She made a far better apprentice to the War Leader anyway."

#dragon age #dragon age headcanons #dragon age origins #dragon age 2 #dragon age inquisition #lavellan #Treya Lavellan #Mahanon Lavellan

[merrybandofmurderers]

hey so forgive me if you've already told me this, but yuo's a blood mage, right? what caused him to turn to blood magic? does he feel guilty about it, considering the stigma surrounding it, or does he say fuck all that jazz? and have there ever been lasting consequences to using blood magic? sorry if that's a lot, thank you ily :)

no no no, i LOVE answering questions!! yes, yuo is a blood mage (and also a battle mage, a pretty good combo imo, but also one that’s hard on his body). he doesn’t really use blood magic a lot, just when he really needs it (and obviously when he’s in the inquisition, he REALLY tries to be discreet, which being a battle mage covers up for).

there’s only a few ppl he openly uses blood magic around at first (solas, cuz he gleans it from their magic convos and won’t out him despite their contentious relationship; cole, cuz he reads yuo’s mind basically; bull, cuz he figures it out and doesn’t judge yuo for it).

SO. the backstory. yuo’s mom died when he was 19, just before he received his vallaslin, which has always weighed heavy on him. his dad died when he was.. 22? i think? (both of them die in skirmishes with humans, which is where his dislike of humans really started). the death of his mom he was able to handle somewhat cuz he had his dad and his sister.

when his dad died, his sister did not handle it well either, so yuo was a mess. at that time is also when he and his sister adopted three young elves who were orphaned. he was desperate for more power to protect his loved ones, so he asked his keeper (newly appointed and his sister’s best friend) for permission to learn blood magic. she was worried what he would do if she denied him, so at the next arlathvhen they found him a hahren to teach him ethical blood magic.

he never expected himself to turn to blood magic, becuz blood magic is not widely accepted among the dalish. but he accepted it becuz he figured it would help him (he ultimately comes to the conclusion that nothing he does can protect his loved ones, but he doesn’t stop using blood magic becuz it does make him stronger.)

around his clan he didnt need to hide it. they understood his grief and trusted him. he only really learned the necessity of discretion when he fell in love with a human apostate and trusted him to teach him blood magic and then was betrayed by him (which is the root of his trust issues).

this didn’t stop him from using blood magic, but he realized how careful he needed to be, and the lasting consequence from that was his trust issues which has definitely impacted him negatively. aside from that, as i said, his combined specs are hard on his body, which have left him with recurring pain as well as needing to treat his scars regularly.

(EDIT: okay so i tried to put a cut here to make it not so long, but apparantly tumblr does not like them anymore so i had to remove it to save the formatting :/ thanks tumblr

EDIT TWO: apparantly removing the cut did NOT save the formatting it just put the cut at the beginning :))))

i talked a bit about about the effects of his specializations here, and i talked about his blood magic and grief allowing him to relate to alexius here.

dorian, sera, and blackwall find out about his blood magic during the reclaiming of suledin keep. they agree to keep his secret but it’s a rough process of acceptance for all of them, especially dorian.

these are some excerpts of the confrontations dorian and yuo have about yuo lying about his blood magic

“Have you ever used blood magic on me?”

Dorian hates himself for asking. He hates himself because he knows the answer will be no, it must be. He asks anyway.

Lavellan stays quiet so long, Dorian starts to hate him more than he hates himself. Dread and genuine fear coil in his gut.

“Once. Only once. In Coracavus, when that darkspawn hit you. Dorian, I was afraid you were going to get the Blight. I couldn’t—” He stops, breathes. “That was the only time. Just, to stop the bleeding, keep it clean. Nothing more than I do for myself.”

*

“I don’t understand why you think you need it. You’re powerful enough already—”

“No, I’m not, Dorian. Don’t you understand? I’m not powerful enough—I’ll never be powerful enough. And I have to remember that, I have to remember… nothing will ever be enough. I have to hold onto that every time some fucking demon thinks it can use me by promising to give me what I want. When a demon promises to give me back my parents, to protect my sister, my clan, to save everyone I care about, to keep everything I have—I need to remember that it’s not enough. I have to accept that. Because if I believe—if I hope—for even a moment that there might be some power capable of that—of restoring what’s lost, preserving what I have—I won’t be able to fight them. I have to know it, that no power will ever be enough; I’ll never be enough.”

and here is when yuo ultimately tells dorian the story behind his using blood magic

Dorian sat next to him on the battlements. “Who was it? That you were wrong about?”

Lavellan was silent for a long moment, then, “His name was Rory. He was an apostate.”

“A human.”

“Yes, human. He wasn’t the first I’d been with, though. He wasn’t special… in that way. That wasn’t… a red flag for me. Then. It’s—” He sighed.

“Let me start from the beginning. My mother died when I was nineteen, just before I received my vallaslin, my father when I was twenty-two. My mother’s death, I managed well enough. But when my father died… Anavi didn’t know how to deal with it either. She… closed off. And it was hard to be around her because she reminded me so much of them. She looked just like him but acted just like our mother. It was a mess, we both were, but especially me. I didn’t have anything to—to tether me. I was so desperate. Every night I had these horrific dreams of losing her.

“What I wanted was power. That’s what everyone wants when it comes to blood magic, isn’t it? The power? To protect my sister, my remaining family, my clan, I decided I needed more power. But I was going to do it right. So, I went to our Keeper and asked permission to learn blood magic. Our Keeper by that time was my sister’s closest friend and knew me well. She knew I wouldn’t disobey her if she forbade it, but I needed something to hold on to, and if she didn’t give this to me, she was afraid of what could happen to me. What I would do.

“That year, there was an Arlathvhen. My Keeper found a hahren for me to learn blood magic from. I told you it is not widely accepted amongst the Dalish, but it does happen. So, I lived with this hahren’s clan for a time to learn from them. It got me some space from my sister, from the grief. And they gave me the instruction I needed. The power I wanted, but still drawn from our beliefs. It would have been so easy for me to get twisted, but my hahren guided me, showed me what to do. They reminded me what my magic was for, kept my head on straight. A few years later, I returned to my clan—sooner than I meant to, sooner than perhaps I should have, but another of the clan had died; I needed to be with them, so I went.

“That winter we settled near a village, and that’s where I met Rory.”

Lavellan was silent for a long time, staring into nothing. Dorian sat quietly, watching his somber profile.

“Rory wasn’t special,” he finally continued, “he wasn’t different. He was easy to fall in love with, and I did, and more than that, I trusted him. I didn’t hide my blood magic from him, and he asked me to teach him. I’d already been showing him some magic; he hadn’t really had anyone to learn from. I never thought his questions or intentions were strange or sinister. To me, blood magic was just magic you had to be a little more careful with. So, I taught him.

“Well, the Templars caught him. I don’t know what he did, I don’t know if he actually used blood magic—or any magic—in front of them, if they just suspected, or what. I don’t know if he hurt someone, I just know that they found him, and the reason I know that is because he sold me out to them.”

He sneered. “He told them I had seduced him, bewitched him, used my magic on him, whatever. I’d tricked him into it, coerced him, forced him to use blood magic. All the words that meant he couldn’t be culpable. My clan had been there for several months, and our welcome was already wearing thin. I don’t know if he mentioned them specifically or if it was just me, but the Templars, of course, wouldn’t be taking chances.

“No one died, no one was hurt, but we had to leave, unprepared. And I don’t know what happened to him. All I know is that I loved someone and trusted them, and it turned out I was wrong, and because of that everything I ever cared about protecting almost…”

His hands clasped together, white knuckled. “So, this time the stakes are a lot fucking higher, aren’t they? I’m not going to compare the two of you, because there isn’t any comparison to be had. I was younger then, and eager to be in love with him, and I fought for so long to not feel for you the way I do, but still I love you more than I thought I’d ever love anyone, and once you earned it, my trust in you has never wavered—and that’s why I won’t hate you if you decide you can’t accept this, or—or forgive me, or move on, because you deserved to know and I didn’t tell you.

“Creators, Dorian, if it were just me, I wouldn’t have thought for a second about it. But in this position, it’s not just me—it never was, but he really fucking drove that home for me. My people will always come first, because no matter what, they’re a part of me. I will never be just me; I will always be Dalish. My people will always be there, and I will always have to care about them. However much more love and trust I had for you, the fear was even greater, and I couldn’t—Dorian, I almost lost them, and it was my fault because I was wrong about someone I loved, and I couldn’t take that risk again, I couldn’t. And that’s all I can say for myself, is that I was afraid.”

(please forgive any typos, these are first drafts u.u)

#ask #mrs theirin #oc: yuo lavellan #thank u i love talking about my babe u.u #any more questions about him or other ocs i will gladly answer #oc stuff #fic: the time has come

[dragonageblackhole]

Post Four Songs That Describe Your OC! **this is long I’m sorry but I LOVE SONG LYRICS**

I was tagged by @elffyness​ 😍

For the next victims (no pressure and dw if you’ve already done it), I’d like to tag um....everyone??? I’m sorry I’m terrible at this, but I’d like to see everyone’s lists!

Pictured above is Lydia Lavellan y’all, and this prompt was hard to narrow down (I really love music!), but I managed to come up with 2 songs that relate to her romance and inevitable heartbreak with Solas, and 2 songs that relate to her general state/status as a budding Inquisitor and party member. Enjoy!

“Howl” by Florence + the Machine

“Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers It starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters...” - “The fabric of your flesh, pure as a wedding dress Until I wrap myself inside your arms I cannot rest The saints can’t help me now, the ropes have been unbound I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground And howl A man who’s pure of heart and says his prayers by night May still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright If you could only see the beast you’ve made of me I held it in but now it seems you’ve set it running free...”

COMMENTARY: Pretty clear-cut here; I couldn’t resist the wolf theme for Solas, and I really like how the song can go back and forth between loving him savagely and “hunting” him, which, as we know with how Trespasser pans out, can be taken pretty literally. And really, what two lines in a song could be more perfect than the “a man who’s pure of heart...” section??

“The Trouble with Wanting” by Joy Williams

“Always on my mind, always alone You could be miles and miles away But somehow you’re close If I can’t have my cake, and I can’t eat it too Well, I guess the sound of your voice And the aching will just have to do ‘Cause the trouble with wanting, is I want you The trouble with wanting is I want you The trouble with wanting is I want you And I want you all the time - And if you never come back, if you never call I’ll say I understand when I don’t at all...”

COMMENTARY: The second song pertaining to the SolasxInquisitor relationship; the end is the kicker here. Pretty self-explanatory, with bits that can be taken both figuratively and literally (”miles and miles away,” “and if you never come back...”). This song is just plain gorgeous, btw, and Joy Willilams has a voice made of angel tears.

“I Am the Fire” by Halestorm

“Am I brave enough? Am I strong enough?  To follow the desire that burns from within To push away my fear To stand where I’m afraid I am through with this, ‘cause I am more than this I promise to myself, alone and no one else My flame is rising higher I am the fire, I am burning brighter Roaring like a storm And I am the one I’ve been waiting for Screaming like a siren Alive and burning brighter I am the fire”

COMMENTARY: So this is the first of the two songs relating to Lydia as more of an Inquisitor and/or teammate/party member. Like many other Inquisitors, I’m sure, there’s a bit of second-guessing herself, but I really like how it starts that way and then grows into “nah get that shit out of here, I can fucking do this because I’m a fucking independent lady that can survive and harness the incredible power of this revolutionary magic and I’m not even a fucking MAGE. “I am the one I’ve been waiting for” is a really powerful line. A runner-up for this list was another Halestorm song called “Here’s To Us,” where they basically just talk about what a doozy of a day they’ve had which also seemed very relevant. For bonus lyrics, here’s a few from that song I was going to use: “Here’s to us / Here’s to love / All the times that we fucked up / Here’s to you / Raise the glass / ‘Cause the last few days have kicked my ass.” What’s more true than that for the fucking Inquisitor 😂 it’s basically an already scripted cutscene with Varric! 😂

“Brother in Arms” by Young Guns

“What’s a little bit of blood loss between friends?” - “All hands on deck we live or die, Together, together No matter how far we fall apart, We bleed together My brother in arms, together we Spill our blood on foreign streets Worlds apart and in too deep, my brother in arms I wouldn’t change a thing!”

COMMENTARY: Okay I LOVE THIS SONG, it applies to so many fandoms and things (if you’re a Supernatural fan, the album this song comes from, called Bones, is basically like...the show in an album. You’re welcome). And I had to “bold to emphasize” the entire excerpt because like...come on. This is the perfect song for the entire party dynamic. “What’s a little bit of blood loss between friends” is Dragon Age as a series in a nutshell isn’t it? 😂 But seriously, I love the camaraderie that still acknowledges that sometimes they can mess up and screw each other over, but at the end of the day, they’ve still got each other’s backs.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #text wall #adventures of inquisitor lydia #song lyrics #I seem to be having some formatting problems?? so bear with me

[johaerys-writes]

2019 Writer’s Roundup

I was tagged by @serial-chillr ​ , @pikapeppa ​, @darlingrutherford ​,  @dafan7711 ​, @faerieavalon ​ and @solas-disapproves ​  for a year end review! Thank you so much, friends, it was such a joy to see what you’ve all achieved this year!!

Word Count

This is just a rough estimation based on the word count of my published fics on AO3 and the works that I’ve written this year that I haven’t published.

Total: approximately 300k, about half of it published! This is such an achievement for me, considering that I had never written anything beyond random flashfiction and short stories before Dec 2018. I had just finished playing DAI and I fell in love with Dragon Age and Dorian’s romance in particular, and that inspired me to start writing more consistently. I also tried my hand at writing for a couple different fandoms, so here’s a list of my favourite things I’ve written this year:

Dragon Age

A World With You: 128,110 words, plus approximately 50,000 words from the first draft that ended up getting scrapped. My longest fic to date! 

The Most Troublesome Man In Thedas (4,702): A fun and fluffy one shot of Tristan and Dorian exploring the Hinterlands. 

As It Was (1,401): A one shot inspired by @solas-disapproves‘s The Guardian, featuring her OC Maori and Solas. 

 The One She Runs To (4,740): A one shot inspired by @pikapeppa  and @schoute‘s Where the Winds of Fortune Take Me, featuring Pika’s Rynne Hawke and Fenris, and a cameo from Schoute’s Piper Lavellan!

Castlevania (seriously, if any of you are into Castlevania, please reach out!! I love the TV series so much and I'm slowly getting into the lore of the games, so I would love to nerd out about it with you!) 

Nothing But Himself (3,641): Trevor x Sypha 

Loyal to the End (2,517) and The Wound That Never Heals ( 2,448): Hector x Carmilla

Unpublished (as of yet, at least!) 

A Witcher and Wheel of Time crossover fic, that I doubt will ever see the light of day but I had so much fun writing:  ~65k 

A Cole fic that I’ve been working on for AGES and hopefully will get around to posting this year! It’s currently in the editing stage, so if you like Cole as much as I do… Keep an eye out 😉 ~ 35k

Number of Smut Scenes: 

6 and counting!

New things I tried this year: 

Honestly, everything has been a first for me this year. Writing almost every day, outlining, editing, reading other people’s awesome work, writing smut, trying my hand at writing my lovely friends’ amazing OCs… It has been such an exciting year, and I can’t wait to see what 2020 brings!

Favourite thing I wrote this year: 

My Pavelyan Inquisition fic featuring my OC Tristan Trevelyan and Dorian Pavus, A World With You. Never before have I put so much effort, time and love into any piece of writing. I adore it to tiny little pieces!

Favourite fic I read this year: 

Ohh, I’ve read so many amazing fics this year, and not near as much as I would like! But I will single out a few highlights:

The Guardian by @solas-disapproves. This is hands down one of the best fics I’ve ever read. I am constantly blown away by the amazing prose, the gripping story, the character development, the unique exploration of DA’s lore… THE LIST GOES ON. I’ll never get over what an amazing writer my friend is, and I honestly never want this story to end!

Where the Winds of Fortune Take Me by my beloved @pikapeppa and @schoute. I was gripped by the concept of this fic from the very start, and I love it to bits! It has made me laugh and cry on so many occasions (and when I say cry I mean LITERALLY BAWL MY EYES OUT), and I’m constantly amazed by @pikapeppa’s writing and her understanding of the characters’ psychology. Plus, Schoute’s art is to die for, as well as her ideas and Piper’s backstory which I still haven’t recovered from!!

Borderland Sorrows by @serial-chillr  (it has been so much fun brainstorming with Serial, thank you for sharing your ideas with me bb), and The Long Game by my beloved friendo @badpriestessofbuttsburgh! I love both these stories so much, and I can’t wait to read more!!

Writing goals for 2020:

Finish A World With You (although just the thought makes me sad! I hate saying goodbye)

Write the Surfer AU @solas-disapproves and I have been working on!

Read more fics! There are so many talented writers out there and I want to read everythinggggg ahhh

Hopefully start writing my DAO and DA2 OCs, now that I’m close to finishing both games!

Lastly, and most importantly, to be kinder to myself, both in regards to writing and in general 🙂

Words of Thanks 

Writing my fic and starting this blog has led me to meeting so many amazing people, and I honestly couldn’t be more honoured to be part of this space. Your comments, tags, reblogs and kind words mean so much to me. Also, a huge thank you to those of you that keep tagging me in things even though it’s been taking me a while to get to them lately!! I love y’all so much and I always love seeing what you have been working on, so keep those tags coming ❤️ 😄

A special shoutout to my beloved potate in crime and partner to my salty soul @solas-disapproves. She is a constant inspiration for me and I’m thankful every day for having met her. I love you so much bb, ewe

I know most people have done this tag already, but I’m still going to tag a few more writers whose friendship, comments, tags, likes and reblogs have made my life so bright: @tessa1972, @welcome-to-gaydas, @tevivinter, @midnightprelude, @dickeybbqpit, @thejeeperswife as well as a few people whose works are on my to-read list and I’d love to get to know them better! @in-arlathan ​ @cornfedcryptid ​ , @allisondraste ​, @kittimau ​, @schattengerissen ​, @fandomn00blr ​, @dharma-writes ​, @andrasste ​ (and lots of other that I’m sure I’m forgetting now!)

Finally, I want to thank each and every person who has given my stories a chance! I know my Dorian/Tristan is kind of a niche pairing, so it truly warms my heart to know that there are people out there that enjoy my writing.

Alright, that’s it from me, folks! 2019 has been an exciting year with lots of highs and lows for me, and I’m looking forward to another year of writing, sharing and screeching my love for fictional characters with you! ❤️

#2019 review #pavelyan #dorian x trevelyan #tristan trevelyan #dragon age fanfic #dragon age inquisition #dorian pavus #castlevania #hector castlevania #trevor castlevania #trevor belmont #sypha belnades #trypha #a world with you #johaerys writes