#nirikeehan

[shouldaspunastory]

For @mythalsknickers , @nirikeehan and @dadrunkwriting

Cullen Rutherford & Dorian Pavus (SFW, pre-relationship, pining, feat Cullen having an exisitencial crisis), 231 words

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Cullen’s heart beats wild against his chest, like it’s doing its damnedest to break out of his ribs as he stares, wide eyed at a glassy-eyed Dorian who blinks owlishly up at him like he hasn’t just absolutely shaken the Commander’s world at its foundation with three little words. Honestly, it’s a miracle that Cullen hasn’t dropped him, while carrying him back to his quarters. Dorian’s mouth slides into a frown behind his mustache and Cullen thinks he must have been silent for too long. But what is he supposed to say? Dorian is… Dorian. Sure, he’s never shied away from flirting with him. He seems to enjoy it and making him flustered. But it's never been serious before. …Has it?

“You’re all I ever wanted,” Dorian says softly, abruptly pulling Cullen back from his thoughts. “Everything I always dreamed about. I’m sorry I can’t say it without too much terrible Ferelden wine,” the altus says softly.

“Dorian-“ Cullen begins cautiously, slowly lowering Dorian down onto his bed and pulling the blankets up around him, filling and setting a mug of water on the bedside table, tying to let himself and the mage down gently. “You won’t even remember this tomorrow.”

“Maybe not. But I’ll still feel it,” Dorian replies sleepily as he nuzzes his face into the pillows, giving into sleep and leaving the former Templar to his racing thoughts.

[ndostairlyrium]

Ex-voto inspired commission done for @nirikeehan of their lovely baby Thalia 💛

-

Commissions Price List & TOS

[inquisimer]

IT’S FRIDAY MER!!!!! Let’s see some Solas x Lavellan for the prompt ❛ i’m sorry that i can’t save you. ❜ from the hit 'em where it hurts sentence starters? 🤷‍♀️👀😈

takes your angst and rotates it into fluff

some pre-ship solavellan for @dadrunkwriting

wc: 994

~~~

Irosyl frowned at the chess board, trying to make her confused expression one of deep thought. Across the stone platform, the Commander was very politely pretending not to watch her from the corner of his eyes. She hesitantly lifted a rook and rolled the marble cylinder between her fingers.

It clicked against the board when she set it down. Cullen gave up his pretense of ignorance and immediately folded his hands under his chin, considering. Suppressing a sigh, Irosyl’s gaze darted out across the gardens.

The things shemlen did for fun. And the things she apparently did to appease the shems.

She meant to look back, to pretend that she could do any sort of analysis on the Commander’s strategy, but the glint of sunlight off a bald head caught her eye. Solas was in the gardens, collecting elfroot by the looks of it.

“Savhalla!” she called, a bit louder than strictly necessary, but she wanted to be sure Solas could not pretend not to hear her. Plate metal scraped in an unpleasant screech as Cullen jumped slightly, but success! Solas turned so that she was looking at him in profile, one eyebrow slightly raised.

Elfroot in hand, he came closer. “On dhea’him, Inquisitor,” he said at a much more reasonable volume. His low voice slipped down her spine like silk and she suppressed a shameful shiver.

She frowned, though. “I thought we were over the nonsense of that awful title.”

A distressed noise came from across the board. Cullen gave her an exasperated look as he moved one of his smallest pieces to capture the rook she’d just placed.

“Fenhedis,” she muttered.

“You really must stop disparaging your title in public, Inquisitor,” Cullen said, the honorific rolling from his tongue pointedly. He tilted his head toward where a number of agents and servants were clustered, mere paces from their game. “It does poorly for morale and faith to have our leader so…”

He trailed off, probably searching for the least offensive way to phrase his concern. Ever merciless, Irosyl crossed her arms and frowned.

“Impertinent?” Solas suggested, the hint of a glib smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“I am not—“

“It is your move, is it not?” Solas cut her off smoothly, unquestionable with the infuriatingly smooth authority. He glanced over the board and this time his smirk reached the surface. “Well. They always did say losing was it’s own art form.”

Irosyl huffed, wondering why she’d called him over in the first place. “What, could you do better? It’s not as if chess was a common pasttime in my clan.”

“I could, yes.”

Irosyl rolled her eyes. She gave Solas her back and considered the board, as if looking at the pieces would actually help her. As she lifted one of her pawns, Cullen offered her a sympathetic smile.

“Do not feel bad,” he said gently. “They say chess is a skill learned over a lifetime. I’ve been playing since I was a child, myself.”

“Is that so?” Irosyl hummed curiously. She couldn’t imagine any of the wiggly, high-spirited children in her clan sitting still long enough to learn even the basic rules of this game. Nor would it occur to any of the elders to insist that they should. A pang of longing struck her heart and for a moment she longed to flee but—

“Oh, fenhedis,” she hissed. Cullen slid his queen along the board and a self-satisfied smirk pulled at the scar on his lip.

“I do believe that’s checkmate.”

“Of course it is,” Irosyl groaned, burying her hands in her hair. “Oh, Bull is gonna have my head over this. He’ll know I haven’t been paying attention.”

“I’m sure he knows already,” Solas commented. “He would be a poor spy otherwise.”

Irosyl’s face twisted in distaste. “Ugh. Don’t remind me.”

Stone scraped against stone as the Commander stood, sketched a bow to the elf across from him. “Thank you for the game, Inquisitor. I’m afraid I must take my leave and return to work.”

“Of course,” Irosyl waved her hand. “It was a…pleasant distraction, Commander.”

“Was it?” Solas asked, surprising Irosyl by sliding into Cullen’s empty seat as he walked away to the battlements. The other elf reset the board with deft, knowing hands, ignoring his partner’s surprised look. Lacing her fingers together, Irosyl rested her chin on them and regarded him with ill-disguised curiosity.

“And if it was?”

“Then I would have expected you to come up with a better way to express it.”

Something halfway between a laugh and a scoff escaped Irosyl. For as unreadable as Solas had been—since the beginning—he could certainly read her like a book.

“Yes, well…” She pursed her lips, considering the fresh alignment of pieces. Solas had given her the ivory half, so she was expected to move first. So he could gauge her style, no doubt. Bull had told her that intellectuals used such analysis to learn intimate details of their opponents.

Intellectuals. Irosyl wrinkled her nose.

“The commander is someone I must appease,” she said, nudging a pawn forward. “As opposed to this game which—“

She folded her hands and regarded him intently over them. “I will enjoy. Immensely.”

“Yes, well.” Solas cleared his throat—was it Irosyl’s imagination, or were the tips of his ears going pink? It should be able to tell against his lily white skin, but as in all things, he was hard to read. “I couldn’t quite save you from the Commander’s attention, so the least I could do is replace it with something more…palatable.”

“What high praise you give yourself,” Irosyl teased.

He rolled his eyes, then raised an eyebrow as she moved her pawn forward rather aggressively. “Is that the kind of recklessness the Iron Bull has been teaching you?”

Irosyl pouted.

Leaning forward, Solas pushed her pawn back to where it had been before. “Let me teach you how to beat him, falon.”

[monocytogenes]

Illario Dellamorte and the role of First Talon

I've read a lot of speculation on the tags as to why Caterina favors Lucanis over Illario as her successor. While I know Veilguard offers its own implications, given that @nirikeehan and I have been writing a worldstate based solely off of pre-VG sources--such as The Wigmaker Job and Eight Little Talons--I got curious as to what those sources specifically tell us about Illario's talents and Caterina's likely perspective on the role.

Illario's Virtues

What qualities does Illario have going for him?

Illario is incredibly charismatic, in a striking and deliberate way. We learn from Lucanis’ perspective that Illario actively weaponizes his appearance and manner to great effect.

His “pretty-boy mask” seems to be more of a tool than a genuine facet of his personality, a costume he puts on to gain admiration from others and accomplish ends. He does seem to have a real interest in fashion (and, well, cleanliness, given the number of times he’s clearly put out by gore, and the scene where Lucanis expects to find him at the cleanest tavern at the docks), but he’s able to easily paint over the feelings of annoyance, frustration, and brotherly mischief he readily shows his cousin when he’s out to engineer a situation. Lucanis is grudgingly impressed by his skill.

I also love this little scene where Illario takes the lead on bluffing an approaching assassin, giving less socially adept Lucanis an effective opener and adding realistic sound effects. He has enough imagination to craft a convincing scenario on the spot and kick off some naturalistic banter.

We also learn that, though he can improvise, Illario is someone who values plans and active communication. He is clearly annoyed that Lucanis is playing things by ear after they discover Ambrose knows they’re coming, and working tactics out in his own head without informing him of what’s next.

A lot of Illario’s complaints, snarkiness towards Lucanis, and desire to find some joy in the job seems to be a response to this active exclusion (despite Lucanis viewing it as Illario’s unwillingness to work.)

Illario wants to actively discuss things—perhaps to swap ideas and collaborate better—and really prods at Lucanis when he’s unwilling to do that.

Frankly, I think the most interesting narrative dynamic in TWJ is how, given that we’re in Lucanis’ perspective, Illario at first does appear somewhat flippant and unserious, but as the story goes on and Lucanis starts taking extra risks and eventually goes fully off the rails (like, so off the rails that he’s effectively multi-track drifting), it becomes increasingly apparent that Illario is the more professional of the pair.

He gets annoyed that Lucanis is shirking an order, despite his own resentment for Caterina.

He gets upset at Lucanis’ willingness to identify himself to an enslaved person and leave her alive because it’s an operational security issue. He and Lucanis are foreign agents hired to kill a powerful, well-connected Tevinter nobleman. If she can provide a description of Lucanis, that puts Lucanis’ life at risk!

Later, Illario reaches Peak Pissed Off when Lucanis denies him a quick kill, makes the situation substantially more dangerous, and isn’t able to differentiate between his own vengeful thoughts and what Illario’s actually telling him. To Illario, the job is a job, a task to complete; emotions and greater political concerns are beside the point, and only threaten their own survival.

(There is no place for emotion in killing, as Caterina taught them—as Lucanis remembers and immediately ignores.)

Finally, I’ll note that though Lucanis’ physical talents surpass his, we see that apart from a master social engineer and a professional with an appreciation for plans, effective risk management and a sensibly limited scope of work, Illario’s a deadly combatant in his own right, too.

Caterina and the Role of First Talon

The question becomes: how do those assets match up to the job of First Talon?

Lucanis clearly believes Illario’s social skills fit the demands of the role:

In TWJ, we’re not given a solid reason, really, as to why Lucanis is the evident favorite. We are shown that Lucanis is an almost legendarily lethal assassin, kind of a Batman-esque terror hero (maybe more of just a 'protagonist' than a ‘hero’, if I'm honest.) Lucanis is larger than life in the eyes of his peers. In ELT mention of him makes Teia and Viago literally shudder:

And what’s interesting there is that the description of him as terrifying is presented alongside a description of First Talon Caterina as terrifying. She is not fair, she is ruthless. She previously subjected a House to such complete devastation that Teia, a younger colleague, has never heard of it.

Like Illario, Caterina is intentional about her appearance. She deliberately demonstrates her wealth and authority. She actively masks emotions that are at odds with what she’s trying to accomplish socially.

But she’s scary. She is fierce and unyielding and commands respect through not just through the resources of her House, or her capacity for planning, or her overall experience and intelligence, but fear.

In this way, Lucanis seems more like Caterina. If the role of First Talon, preeminent killer of killers, carries a heavy expectation of brutality for the sake of the Crows as an institution, then charming, fashionable, affable Illario may not look like an appropriate choice.

Illario is a capable, pragmatic assassin; his ability to endear himself to strangers is bar none; he appreciates the value of a thought-out plan and would likely take naturally to administrative work if he doesn’t have a hand in it already (perhaps there’s a reason why, per Lucanis, he doesn’t leave Treviso or have much in the way of foreign contacts.) But superficially: he’s pleasant. He’s pretty. He doesn’t like blood. He doesn’t fit the image.

He’s not even mentioned by Viago as someone of interest after Teia alludes to him indirectly (and amusingly implies that neither he nor Lucanis are sufficiently affectionate towards Caterina.) Illario's likely not perceived as a contender of importance.

It’s apparent, too, that Lucanis’ absolute freakout in TWJ is not Lucanis’ standard operating procedure, given how shocked and furious Illario is with him—normally Lucanis is committed to his contracts, if kind of flying by the seat of his pants. His potentially compromising expressions of empathy towards servants and lower-class folks are evidently not usual for him since they surprise Illario, who otherwise seems to know him well. And while Lucanis is avoidant of Caterina, he respects her, and seems to have previously only nudged at his boundaries while still getting his work done, rather than actively making a mess of things in a way that might invite her scorn.

Illario, for what it's worth, doesn’t seem to be obnoxious towards her either—he expresses some bitterness to Lucanis, but rather than bothering Caterina about the matter himself, he wants Lucanis to open the conversation on his behalf. He’s tense about the potential for conflict and acknowledges her fear-based influence over both of them.

In all, I don’t think, textually, that Caterina’s disfavor of Illario is due to him being unqualified for the job of First Talon in terms of his actual skills, or due to some sort of interpersonal conflict between them. Maybe she even has a decent sense of his ability and track record, given that she had a hand in training him and is actively overseeing her House's affairs. Rather, I suggest she’d prefer someone who would match her leadership style, someone who would rule more through fear than love, who could adopt the persona other Crows expect in service of their collective survival. And certainly even up to the time that she’s set to summon Lucanis, Lucanis seems like the more suitable choice.

Caterina doesn't know that Lucanis has been growing a conscience, that he’s behaving erratically, that he said “fuck the job” amid Illario’s protestations. War looms on the horizon, the Crow leadership is gutted, and it's logical enough for her to figure that her legacy will need to be one of cold-blooded shows of force, not the persuasions of a silver tongue.

[woundedsoul12]

Official Tag List

Ok so basically if you don't want to be on here let me know. And if you want to be added let me know. My feelings won't be hurt either way. And I'm not saying I will tag everyone for everything but this is my tag list for the million things I post.

Seriously no pressure to ever do anything I tag you in. This is more 'hey look at my trash!'

Also know I love being tagged. Even if I don't always participate I'm like 'yesssss let me look at what you got'

So Anyway the LIST

No pressure tagging @himluv @thedissonantverses @mythals-whore @serensama @whispersleo @tarasmom @hedwigoprah @becausedragonage @kindlyfeline @davrinsleftpectoral @fenrelmercar @plasticfreckles @kai-dimir @teamtakagi @a-mumbling-nerd @fiberpunk027 @larknnightingale @jenn2d2 @tkwritesdumbassassins @feelslikepants @trash-nerd @cute-ellyna @brennacedria @lottiesnotebook @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @operative-arrow @librivore42 @obsessed-with-book-boyfriends @fireheartedpup @mikylechase @bonesandivy @vime5 @notyourmamasdeerbat @griffongrey @master-of-the-elements @chaoslifeforme @carrieing0n @serstolas @beachhotdog @nirikeehan @basedonconjecture @bygonesigh @redheadsramblings @aetherflowers @in-the-drowning-deep @bonesandivy @sandcastlekings @mezzomoment @serialsforbellara @libdibs @zennihilation @chaosherald @skullypettibone @eiluned @waxlyricaloperaticmoon

[dadrunkwriting]

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[theluckywizard]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tag @queenaeducan 🥰

Today I have a bit of my next chapter of In the Shattering of Things. Thank you to @theshirallen for "feeds your dog" 🤣

“Did you just— hide?” asks Rylen. Cullen stiffens. “What? No. There was a— wasp.” “That Warden gave you the Antivan Once-Over and you darted into the colonnade. Is there something you haven’t told me?” Cullen wilts underneath Rylen’s wry gaze. His shoulders sag. He’s felt nothing but regret since that foolish moment— failing to temper his own miserable desperation, failing to be available during a Maker-damned prison break, letting it go on and on until her hands blazed a scorching trail beneath his shirt, until they’d been interrupted by a Scout before he could stop her himself. “You’ve needed a bloody distraction.” “I need to stay focused.” “Aw, you know what I mean. From you-know-who.” “Don’t make me pull rank, Knight-Captain.” They continue walking toward the command post. Rylen makes an ill-advised decision to speak again. “She was—” He cocks his head with wide eyes and lifts his brow, nodding. Cullen grumbles. “She is a conflict of interest.” “I was going to say ‘stacked like the Divine’s balcony’, but whatever feeds your dog.”

Tagging @crackinglamb, @warpedlegacy, @shivunin, @caitlam, @nirikeehan

@midmorninggrey, @thedastrash, @p0lkadotdotdot, @briannasroger, @skinwalkingxana

@devaigh, @librivore42, @pickelda No pressure, but show your WIPSssssss 🥰

[librivore42]

HELLO LIBRI i am down on my knees hoping to ruin your life with Lux x Samson. Couldn't pick between two prompts so mix and match as you see fit: ❛ ain’t it warming you, the world going up in flames? ❜ (Hozier prompts) and ❛ was it all just a lie? ❜ (Angst prompts)

'down on my knees hoping to ruin your life' is a Samson line and NO MISTAKE. Thank you @nirikeehan I love being here in the Insane about Samson Corner with you. @thedasweekend

Words: 1367

Characters: Raleigh Samson, Lux

Samson is absolutely being a manipulative bastard but look you have to use the tools at your disposal.

~~~~~

Even back in Kirkwall, Lux had reminded Samson a little of the Tranquil. Maybe that was why she was always being assigned to guard them. They were too creepy to watch over, and she was too creepy to be around, watching people with those empty, staring eyes all the time.

Different, in that the Tranquil had no choice but to be content with their lot, and never sought to change it. But those staring eyes seemed to be hungry to learn about anything they saw. Though she had been trained to be content. To be obedient. To not want anything more than to serve.

Maker's tears, what a terrible thing to do to a person, to try and rip out their spirit before they were even old enough to understand. What broken mind had thought that was just?

Still, Samson had hardly gone out of his way to help or pity her. It had been fun, even, to watch the faint, puzzled furrow on her face as he lied flatly to her face, rolling a vial of lyrium between his fingers that she knew could not be his, because he was supposed to have been given his yesterday.

At least, that was what was supposed to have happened. She hadn't seen it herself, so how could she truly say it wasn't his?

She was so easy to lie to, it was practically a pleasure.

Whoever had raised her had tried whatever they could to hollow her our, to leave nothing that could be used against her perfect obedience. But Samson was very good at reading people, at knowing what they wanted and getting what he wanted. So it didn't escape his notice that, though most of their interactions were confusing to her, though she never seemed sure if he was mocking her or not, it was probably some of the most positive social interaction she'd had with any of the Templars in the Gallows. How she lit up when she was told she was doing well, starved for anything at all.

Now, a disgraceful dismissal and years later, as he sat around waiting for the Inquisitor to get around to passing some kind of judgement on him, she just reminded him a little too much of Maddox, and he triesd not to think about how neither of them deserved what was done to them. How Maddox had only wanted to live. And she seemed to be struggling to live all the time.

He tried not to think about the fact that he didn't deserve what was done to him either. What was the point? That was what the Chantry did. Spit you out if you stepped out of line, and used you up if you were good. And wasn't it warming, watching it all go up in flames?

He could see it in the both of them as they'd stood there, still straight-backed and military. The Order's golden boy, who was so good at following orders and never putting a foot out of line, and their golden girl, who had only ever tried to be good. Who seemed to genuinely believe the Templars meant something, and that most of them just hadn't gotten the memo.

She even had the gall to come check on him, instead of leaving him to moulder in prison in peace.

"Ser Lux," he said at her approach. The tone was exactly the same. That playful mimicry of her flat, formal affect, and for a second it was if the years between had simply never happened, and they were passing each other in the halls again. Even his smile was the same, a quirk of the lip as if waiting for her to get a joke she was never able to.

And everything else was different. His hair thin, his face pinched and unhealthily pale, worse even than when he'd been reduced to begging for lyrium.

"Ser Samson," she said in return, and his eyebrow raised a fraction at the change. More human. As if there was someone inside that good little shell of a soldier after all.

Her eyes had always been expressive. He'd hated it a little, to see how she'd looked at him when he was on the streets, as if she wanted to catch him by the arm and bring him back to the Order. Back home, before the rest of them realised it wasn't home for anyone. She looked as if she wanted to do the same even now, and if his grin was a little more bared teeth than teasing, so what?

It was the same not-quite-grin that he'd given her that day on her patrol, though they so very rarely let her out of her cage. When she, in her own halting and broken way, had asked her how she could help him, and he'd laughed bitterly in her face and asked for a personal pardon from Knight-Commander Stannard herself.

"I-" she'd said, confused and frozen in place.

"Thought not. Take care of Maddox for me."

"I will."

He'd said it like an afterthought, not really expecting her to listen. But she'd always been kind to the Tranquil. He hadn't expected her to respond like she was taking a vow.

It's infuriating how good you are, for all the wrong people.

"You've changed," he said in the here and now, noting the way she moved as she opened the door and set down the tray of food for him. The way she spoke, so much less stiff. The way surprise flickered across her face like ripples on a pond. Perhaps she'd had time to learn to be a person.

And yet still, all for the wrong people. Wasn't it always the way?

Hesitation, instead of leaving immediately. He certainly didn't have the strength to push past her and escape, but he hadn't expected her or Cullen to want to be overly sociable. Surprise, sympathy, warmth. For what any of it was worth, she almost seemed to have missed him.

"You don't. Deserve this," she'd managed once, and he'd barked out another laugh, and asked her if she had any money. If she'd steal some lyrium for him, laughing again at the helpless look in her eyes as she'd stammeringly tried to explain that she couldn't. It had been cruel of him. But by the Maker if it hadn't felt good to bare his teeth at someone.

She'd only wanted to help. Too nice for her own good.

I wonder, said the part of Samson whose soldiers were loyal to the death, the part that always knew how to get what he wanted, if that still stands.

"The confidence looks good on you," he said, letting approval drip into his voice, testing the waters. And her wide, staring eyes creased at the corners, pleased despite herself, the faintest of flushes across her nose. She didn't step back as he stepped closer than she'd expected.

Oh but she should have.

It was like she could smell the red lyrium on his breath, faint but sweet as honeysuckle, Magnetic. His hand drifted, almost as if unconsciously, accidentally, to her hair, and she didn't even know if she was supposed to flinch away. Because it was Samson, but—

"Glad you didn't change your hair," he said, knowing just how to seed in a touch of remorse. Imagined fond nostalgia for the soft dandelion-strands under his fingers and the years.

"Samson, I." I am sorry. It was plain on her face. The sorrow for a Samson she remembered, that she'd like to hope was still inside, somewhere. I want to help. I don't know what to do.

"You've come a long way."

Not far enough, not by a long shot. If she'd had any sense at all she'd have been continents away from being used all over again. A new master, a new leash, and all she wanted was to be good.

I wonder, said the other part of Samson, the one that bared its teeth in the streets, that was more red lyrium and bitterness than blood, if I should cut that leash, whether she wants it or not.

She'll flounder. She doesn't know anything else. Better to take it.

[saltyowlets]

WIP WEDNESDAY-ish

Thank you for tagging me last week @nirikeehan !

Originally, I was gonna take a break from some art to just relax, but then Champagne Coast started playing on shuffle and *sighs* I had to sketch out something.

Im doing...something with this. I really need to do some anatomy study and some art study. Still not satisfied with my style but I'll get there eventually.

Tagging people for next week: @lucaniseyebrowlicker @himbopunk @nonagesimus

[aetherflowers]

WIP Wednesday + Last Line Tag

Thank you so, so much to @woundedsoul12 @p0lkadotdotdot and @nirikeehan for the WIP tags, and @redheadsramblings for the last line tag! I'm so honored. 💕

Passing no pressure tags on toooo @davrinsleftpectoral @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @hyperions-light and

You!

This is all from the next chapter of In the Embers.

Last Line

As she walked back to the Magi camp, she felt hope unfurl in her chest--a fragile and budding promise that there was something more beyond the stone walls of Kinloch.

WIP Snippet (word count: 500ish)

Elona offered the knight-templar a tight smile before she sat on an old stone railing in the ruins; if having a babysitter was what it took to have some peace, it was a price she’d pay. The man - she assumed by the posture - turned away from her, uninterested in pleasantries. With a shrug she laid back and closed her eyes; the far off revelries in the war camp and the soft breeze were a much better accompaniment than whispering apprentices or - worse - the oppressive weight of silence.

Footsteps made her jolt upright, and she barely had time to smooth her robe before a man in scale armor rounded the corner.

“It’s you,” she said, at the same time Alistair did, and they both laughed. 

“I wondered why the tin can was loitering near the stairs,” he mused. “I see you found my hiding place.”

“Your hiding place? I didn’t realize you owned Ostagar, my lord,” she teased.

“You couldn’t tell? I’m hurt.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a grin as he played along. “I thought I gave off Bann vibes at least.”

“I must beg your forgiveness, I am but a sheltered, humble mage.” She bowed her head to him, her dark hair falling into her eyes. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“You don’t have to go,” he insisted a little too quickly. “The view is better with you here.”

For once she was grateful that her hair refused to stay tucked away because her cheeks grew warm. “I’m honored by your presence, then, my lord.”

He chuckled and crossed his arms. “I always thought being an uptight noble sounded like a lot of work, but maybe it wouldn’t be so badl.”

“It is a lot of work.” She tilted her head back to look back up at the stars. “Especially when you have older brothers who talk you into doing the work their tutors assigned to them.”

“I could have used someone like you at the monastery.” He sat next to her and tried not to stare at her profile outlined in moonlight. 

“The monastery?” Her brows knit in confusion. “You were a templar?”

“I trained to be one, but I never took the vows,” he explained. “I was raised by the Chantry so it was all decided for me.”

“That explains the yelling mages,” she realized. 

“The Chantry didn’t want to let me go, so they just love using me as an insult any time they can,” he said. “Duncan, our Warden-Commander, said we needed to cooperate and play nice, but no one told the Revered Mother.”

“I bet she’d be scandalized if she saw us now,” Elona mused. “I might have to start yelling at you so they don’t revoke my Harrowing.”

For a moment his brow furrowed and when he smiled again it was tight around the edges, forced and brittle.

“I didn’t mean…” She trailed off when he shook his head.

“I went to a Harrowing once,” he confessed. “It didn’t go well.”

“Oh,” she breathed the word. “At Kinloch?”

“That poor mage,” Alistair sighed. “I couldn’t imagine watching any more of them; I didn’t have much interest in being a templar after that.”

For a moment she hesitated, but then she laid a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”

[chaosherald]

Tarot Tuesday

Rules: Take inspiration from the drawn card to write a short fic, scene, art, doodle, whatever inspires you. You have the whole week to the following Tuesday. Feel free to tag friends!

This Week's Card (6/10/25): Five of Swords

[Woven Path Tarot] Keywords: Conflict, betrayal, deceit Imagery: Pyrrhic victory, post-battle, looming threat

Hosted/Started by @nirikeehan here

Thank you @blackwall-my-tiny-husband for the tag. Sorry it took me a minute to get to it! Since its late in the week, I'll forgo adding any tags. Took a bit to figure out what direction I wanted to go with this one. Landed on a painful what-if.

It happened too quickly for coherent thought, but Rook could make a guess as to what she was thinking. As the eluvian shimmered to life, as the tentacles shot through it, as they streaked towards Bellara, she knew she had to protect her. Shoving her out of the way, she hoped she had succeeded, had saved her friend, even as the blighted tendrils claimed her instead.

Worth it. Whatever the cost. She would keep her people safe. Had kept her people safe.

Yes dear child, the voice in her head said. Her liege Lord. The Creator. First and Greatest of the Gods. You are their champion, Rook. Their protector. With my generous gifts, you have the means to protect them all now. To see the world made new. To claim victory.

She did. She could feel it, the woven harmonies of the blight, working together like an orchestra as it purified Minrathous, Tevinter, the world. She was its conductor, directing its path in accordance with the will of Elgar'nan. Somewhere in the depths of her mind, she remembered being fearful of this power. Fighting against it. How shameful.

No he spoke, his kind voice was enmeshed with her mind like the blight was coiled through her body, both all encompassing, drowning out any other thoughts or sensations. Do not dwell on past failings, child. You have learned, have come so far in my service. 

Focus on the now. Invaders come. Allies of the Dread Wolf and the cowardly Shadow Dragons. Enemies, seeking to undo what we have done. Show them the error of their ways.

And - yes, she sensed them, their harried steps a discordant tone in Elgar'nan's beautiful symphony. She would quiet them. She would keep her people safe. Protect them all. Whatever the cost.

[midmorninggrey]

Your OC as the Solar System

Thanks for the tag @nirikeehan!! This matches my exact level of brain power at the moment <3

Rules: Bold what applies - italicize sometimes - strike out never. (Bonus): Color the ones that especially fit. Tag some friends to play along!

Celeste Trevelyan

SUN• egotistical •melted wax wings and fingers • stretching sunburnt skin • the most generous soul •blood in the fruit • halos • anger on fire• high vitality • thunderous laughter • is pride really a sin? • halogenic aura

MERCURY• expansion of the mind • silver-tongued • an everlasting wanderer • polyglot • high dexterity • handwritten letters • innately critical• en vogue • eyes in the trees •hidden libraries • there’s always room for improvement

VENUS• in love with strangers • iridescent waters • love potions for your mirror • selfless devotion • shattering crystal • seafoam upon sand • the golden ratio • drowning in your own passion • material value & high principles • luring • plush lips

EARTH• fresh springs • tree hugger • we can start again tomorrow • a blazing rainforest• respects survival of the fittest • nature’s adversity • lazy bones • constantly evolving • flowers sprouting from wounds • a granite altar• fossilized remains

MOON• illusory • silver shimmer off the ocean • secrets and gossip • cycles of reincarnation • a crybaby • physically ethereal • shared glances with a stranger • cat eyes • mistrusting their intuition • fear is a prison • ornate magic wands

MARS• healthy competition • attraction and repulsion • magma and rubies • a blade being forged • wrath wrath wrath • malefic • intense eye contact • cannon fodder & fireworks • blood floods • copper taste on your tongue

JUPITER• red robes and a suit of armor • beacon of stability• leader by birth • thunderbolts and lightning • guilty but can’t stop • secret rich kid • golden touch golden tears • innate optimist• failure isn’t an option• constantly reaching for more • unfinished symphonies

SATURN• traditional • overbearing energy • a sculptor of reality • this existence is a karmic one • has a heart it’s just.. way down deep • law, order & justice• avoid all necessary risk • the sound of shackles clanging • sisyphus’ struggle • grappling with the reality of time • self-governing

URANUS • psychedelic funk music • overflowing cups • a rebellion with skin • looking good in photo id • oblivious but caring • middle fingers in the air• double rainbows • icy diamond exterior • holographic • afraid of their own mediocrity • pearlescent smoke

NEPTUNE• an elegy for the lost • dissolving boundaries • white horses • the burden of mystical conditions • deceptive • escapism is their reality • a polarizing entity • artists soul • paranoia • searching for the unseen • a siren’s swan song

PLUTO• angel statues over graves• power• the cycle of necrosis • transformative • unfathomable depths • an ivory tower toppling over• screaming at the sky • violets and irises • eclipsed darkness • speaks with their shadow • sex, death, rebirth

Tagging if y'all are interested @shivunin @carnalapples @theluckywizard @greypetrel @saladruiner @layalu @inquisimer and anyone else who wants to jump on in!!

[sweetjulieapples]

OC Vibes

Thanks for the tag @nirikeehan @violets-and-amber and @dymme

rules: post your OC and then 4 (or more) random pictures with no explanation to convey your characters vibe

Juliette Trevelyan

tagging @fairytalelagoon @animezinglife @p0lkadotdotdot @tiredtruffle @bibutterflies @cullenssweatyballsakk @jefarawol @raflesia65

and anyone else who wants to have a go ❤️

[highwayphantoms]

Six Song Soundtrack

Tagged by @nirikeehan and tagged in spirit by @librivore42 ahahaha

Rules: If you’re tagged, make a post with links to music and/or lyrics describing six things / events about your OC/story.

methinks i will do this for Cal but if y'all wanna see more of my OCs, tag me again LOL.

game is under the cut because long post got long

Cal Hawke:

Event that defines your character's past:

State of Me by Lacey Sturm

Broken, hostile state of my life now Just get behind me Just get behind me Closing slowly they don't own me Just get behind me Just get behind me

How your character sees themselves:

The Horror and the Wild by The Amazing Devil

Think of all the horrors that I promised you I'd bring I promise you, they'll sing of every time You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child Witness me, old man, I am the wild

Their closest relationships (romantic and platonic):

doing three songs here makes this seven but ssssh

Dancing on Broken Glass by Poets of the Fall (Anders)

We're going where dreams really come true And we won't be held back by our fears Come hell or high water We'll trust there's a life for us here this way I want you to know I still love you Even though we've been dancing on broken glass Parade all your memories for the moments we shared Never fade away

Comfort by Carbon Leaf (Fenris)

You figured out The warnings and the reasons why You smooth me out I hope you know There’s nothing I could give For showing me how to live

Changeless by Carbon Leaf (Varric)

What are the odds, what are the odds? This ends and we don't meet again What are the odds, what are the odds? That I will miss your smile

A major fight scene:

Monsters by Shinedown

'Cause my monsters are real And they're trained how to kill And there's no coming back And they just laugh at how I feel

End credits song:

That's Okay by The Hush Sound

And when you're gone Will they say your name? And when you're gone Will they love you the same?

-

Idk who's already been tagged so I'll just pick a few folks and anyone else who wants to play can say I tagged you, too haha. as always, no pressure if you don't want to or don't feel like playing!

@inquisimer @miladydewintcr @commander-krios

-

Blank template:

Event that defines your character's past:

How your character sees themselves:

Their closest relationships (romantic and platonic):

A major fight scene:

End credits song:

[woundedsoul12]

Thursday Bangers 9/26

Rules for your Copy and Paste: Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to write, write it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays).

It's Rook Appreciation Week yall. So go to @rookappreciationweek and check out the prompts and play. I am a little behind but.... here's day 4! Let's go to the Rivaini Coast to see how Kenn Ingellvar and Taash are doing with these lyrics

It's not a walk in the park to love each other But when our fingers interlock Can't deny, can't deny you're worth it - Still Into You by Paramore

No pressure tagging @himluv @thedissonantverses @mythals-whore @serensama @whispersleo @tarasmom @hedwigoprah @becausedragonage @kindlyfeline @davrinsleftpectoral @fenrelmercar @plasticfreckles @kai-dimir @teamtakagi @a-mumbling-nerd @fiberpunk027 @larknnightingale @jenn2d2 @hyperions-light @tkwritesdumbassassins @feelslikepants @trash-nerd @cute-ellyna @brennacedria @lottiesnotebook @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @operative-arrow @librivore42 @obsessed-with-book-boyfriends @fireheartedpup @mikylechase @bonesandivy @vime5 @notyourmamasdeerbat @griffongrey @master-of-the-elements @chaoslifeforme @carrieing0n @serstolas @beachhotdog @nirikeehan @basedonconjecture @bygonesigh @redheadsramblings @aetherflowers @in-the-drowning-deep @bonesandivy

And if you are reading this...

You

“I once heard that all tears are carried to the sea,” Kenn begins as he steps forward. His hand hanging in the air as he fights for words. Giving comfort to the grieving has never been his strong suit. A faltering his father Vorgoth often chided him for.

But this is Taash. His love. The very breath in his lungs and beat of his heart. Standing on the sands as purple colors the falling sun. Sobbing for their mother, for a future lost to them. And a past now tinged with sorrow.

“Really?” they ask as his words break through their heartache. Looking up as their eyes meet his and he tentatively steps forward. Now is his chance, and for his kadan he will not fail.

“Yep. Why I always wanted to see the ocean. I was so excited when we got to come to Rivain.” He has their attention now. Their cheeks are still stained and eyes still swollen, but they don't flinch when his fingers entwine with theirs and he gently smiles. “So imagine my surprise when I found you instead. And suddenly the waves didn't seem so important.”

They roll their eyes at him as they look out to the water. Staring off for only a moment before they hum with quiet thought. “Of course that's the death mage's reason for wanting to see all this.”

“Taash!” he exclaims as he pulls back and playfully pushes their shoulder. “I was trying to be serious this time!”

“I know,” they reply as their hand finds his once more before pressing it to their chest. “You've been really understanding through all this. So I guess I'm trying to say thanks. For being here.”

“Hey,” he says as he reaches up to touch their cheek. “You've been here for me as well. That's what people do. Love's not easy, but it's worth it. And as long as we stick together, we can get through anything.”

“Maybe,” they reply in that deadpan way. Most people would find that response annoying, but Kenn has come to adore their mannerisms over the last few months.

“Hey no maybe,” he gently chides as he leans up to hover his lips just outside of their reach. “It's the truth.”

“Like all tears being carried to the sea?” they challenge as the corner of their mouth twitches up in a grin. Falling back into their old ways under the comfort of his love.

“Exactly like that,” he replies as his lips find theirs. And as they kiss on the Rivaini sands, they are reassured that even on their worst nights, Rook will still always be there for them.

[dadrunkwriting]

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