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Sometimes I fear my humour doesn’t translate well into english, but I dare say that actually makes it funnier

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AU where berdly's gaming knowledge allows him to instantly recognize what's going on with kris but no one listens cause he's annoying

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Weisshaupt asks - Answers (finally..)

This....has in fact been sitting in my drafts ever since I finished it. And I thought I posted it.

Let's not linger on my silliness there, here we go!

Good Noodle: Is Rook an honorable fighter? @teamtakagi

Zeph doesn’t care about honor in battle at all. She’ll fight dirty, kick shins(and other body parts), throw a handful of sand into people’s eyes, whatever cliché one can think of, she'll do it. She’ll mock and insult enemies, and even risk her own life if it feels like such maneuvers are what needs to be done to end the battle. All that matters is winning, and (optionally) getting out alive.

(That mindset does change Post-Weisshaupt, while still ready to take injuries through reckless maneuvers, she’ll no longer be comfortable with the idea of getting herself killed.)

Style: What is Rook’s preferred fighting style? How did they perfect it? @i-creatied-au

Close combat! She’ll throw heavy spells at enemies to disorient them and quickly slip right up to them. Then she relies on her dexterity to overwhelm and kill the opponent. She avoids battles of pure strength, both her height and her build work against her there. She rather utilises her speed, and the fact that she’s a powerhouse with storm magic.

It‘s mostly been perfected to her standards through real-combat experience. She’ll only at times practice new spells, or new ways to utilise already known ones.

I Know that Guy: What is Rook’s reaction when they see their comrades injured or killed in action? @larknnightingale

Injured: She will drop absolutely anything to help. Mid-battle? She’ll somehow get out, it doesn’t matter if an arrow or a thrown blade hits her during the escape- She’ll get her friend out of this or die trying. If others fight with her, she‘ll still try to get close to the injured comrade, to keep them safe from further damage until the battle is done.

Killed: Devastation, quickly turned into rage. She’d run up, try something, anything to help. Once it’s clear there’s nothing to be done anymore, she’ll destroy whoever did it, it’s all that matters at the moment. Vengeance.

After the battle, she’d break down crying, blaming herself for the death.

Hard Pressed: How does Rook handle stress and fear during intense combat? @vishantikaffar

Zeph tries her hardest to not show anything affecting her in combat. She’ll try to put on a brave face and a steady voice, not only to avoid enemies taking notice, but also to not demotivate her allies. Still, her spells become more uncoordinated and wide-ranged, trying to keep the enemy away from herself.

She’ll stop making jokes or remarks, and her hands start shaking, no matter how much she tries to hide that. She also bites into her cheek to keep herself together. Which can lead to inconvenient moments in battle.

 In actual worst-case situations, that would leave her so deeply terrified that she can’t try to overplay it, she’d freeze. She could never bring herself to run, but she also wouldn’t be able to act anymore, just staring ahead in terror.

In the Moment: How does Rook react when injured? @elfmaid

Spiteful towards herself, in a way. The worse the injury, the more she tries to convince herself that she’s still good to go. It takes a moment of actual peace and quiet for her to logically think it through, and withdraw if needed. If such a moment doesn’t occur, she will be staying in combat until her body gives up on her.

The moment she is injured, she’ll freeze in shock for a second before trying to retaliate against whoever hit her with an attack. Those attempts are impulsive, uncoordinated and often lead to nothing.

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Got one(1) mean outside comment and now I fear I can never write a word ever again 🙂‍↕️

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a Forest and a Hand - Fisara RRAU

Rooks Mentioned

Quinn: @seizethemage-main

word count: 1742 

Weishaupt was falling in front of her eyes. Fisara’s second home, the place that gave her a community and a job was being overran by darkspawn, one of her gods–who was a cloud somehow–,and an archdemon that the older wardens had been certain she may never see. Yet here she was swinging her sword as agents of the veil guard come to lend aid. Quinn lucky was with her, even if there was no stopping for her to feel anything but the stress of fighting off the hoard that seemed never ending. 

Her gods did this. The ones her people put on a pedestal, told stories of their achievements, and marked their skin for. They sent devastation without a care. None of the stories prepared her for this. What do you do when your gods come back and they threaten the world? What do you do when you learn that the stories were so far from the truth after spending your life following them? This was something that was running through her head as she sliced through her goddess’s minions. Anger in her veins at the thought of her Mamae, her brothers having to learn of this. 

“Quinny how are you holding up?” she asked, her eyes glancing over at the mage as she worked her magic-literally- even in the heat of battle Quinn looked beautiful. The glow from their magic casting a soft glow on her features. Creators when they get out of this Fisara is going to give them the biggest kiss and hug she ever has. Her clothes were covered in darkspawn gunk, even so she stayed looking flawless. Beside them was a Qunari with long white hair that was placed in a braid swinging her own magic around. 

“Oh I’m doing fine!” Quinn spoke through gritted teeth, even from the distance the two had she could see they were putting all their focus and energy into keeping the darkspawn away from her and the Qunari. Fisara slashed through some more of the grunts before making her way over to the two mages, she can keep Quinn safe from another angle while her and the Qunari focus on their own. Protecting Quinn was her top priority now. The gods can take away the meaning of her stories, her vallaslin, her people’s past but they can not take away her girlfriend.

Without saying much of anything else she let Quinn stay focus as she took care of any darkspawn that was in her blind spots, working to protect not only her partner but also the Qunari who weaved spells as well. Fighting things was what she was good at and protecting people? That’s something she should be good at, she was a Warden of the Grey it was her duty, her job. 

In war, Victory. In peace, Vigilance. In death, Sacrifice. She repeated the words in her head as she fought, fought for her life and the lives of those she care about. Her curls were falling from her ponytail, getting frizzy. None of that mattered because lives were on the line and the only person she cared about was fighting alongside her and needed her to stay focus. 

A roar shot through the sky, a deep one that seemed to shake the ground as darkspawn seemed to keep coming with no end. The Archdemon was flying around, and someone needed to kill it. A warden had to sacrifice themselves and then the blight should be over. That’s how it worked… Right? There was no telling everything Fisara thought she knew had been wrong so that could be wrong too. After the archdemon falls, if it falls, the blight could continue. They may never be free from the blight that rampages Thedas. 

Her thoughts were cut short by a shout form someone else, not Quinn. Instead someone she didn’t know calling out to her. Her gaze moved not fast enough as an Ogre charged at her. The year of training kicked in as she rolled away, out of the path of it’s charge before standing up holding her sword and shield in her hands. She had faced worst, fought many ogres this wouldn’t be any different. As long as it stayed focused on her, leaving Quinn and the Qunari mage alone that’s all she cared about. Keep your eyes on me. Letting out scream she charged at the ogre slicing at the back of it’s legs as electricity surged in the air. 

The ogre fell to it’s knees, a purpled electricity radiating off of it. Fisara let out a yell from deep within in her as she plunged her sword into the ogre’s back feeling it sink in. In response the ogre screamed and turned to swat at her, not giving her time to pull the sword out as she dodge out of it’s grasp. Now all she had was her shield as the Ogre stood tall once more, her sword still lodged in it’s back. Maybe she didn’t fully think it through but that didn’t matter. She kept her shield up staring it down. Keep your eyes on me. “Fis-” the sound of Quinn’s yell was cut off as Fisara felt something crash into her, pinning her against one of the many stone walls in weishaupt. Another ogre. The wall seemed to crumble as her body slowly went numb any feeling being replaced by pain. A large hand cupped her crushing her body, her vision blurred and tears prickled at the corner of her eyes. Falon’din if you are still there and still good, make my souls journey simple and easy. She prayed silently to herself. The ogre released her finally, her body falling limply on the ground. There was no way she could move, everything was numb and hurt. The sounds around her were muffled but seemed to circle around her as everything spinned. Hands desperately cling to her, as a shadow hovered over her before she couldn’t see or hear anything at all. Falling into a darkness that she was sure was her end.

Where was she? Surrounding her was a forest, shaded in a grey. Looking down her feet were bare as they stood on the grass, but she couldn’t feel the grass. “Enansal.” a voice spoke to her, one she hadn’t heard in three years, one she was so sure she would never hear again but here it was speaking to her. Calling her blessing just as it always had. Desperately turning around trying to see the face that matched the voice until she caught him. Ghilen stood just a couple feet from her, seeming so real. His dark skin etched with the mark of Falon’din and his hair cut short. Just as it had been when he died, he was dead but he was in front of her. 

“Dad.” her voice was weak, her legs moving on their own as she embraced him. He felt real. She could feel the fabric of his clothes in her arms and the feeling of his arms as they returned the embrace. He was here and she was hugging him. When she pulled back, she looked up at him. “I left the clan. I couldn’t take it anymore. You weren’t there so I left. I became a warden and- and I tried making your proud. All I wanted was to make you proud.” the words fell out of her mouth in a ramble, once they started, she couldn’t stop not until he shushed her lightly, his hand cupping her cheek gently.

“Enansal, it’s ok. You made me proud. You always have and always will.” slowly he unwrapped his arms and she let him go, still awestruck and emotional. Those words were all she wanted to hear. To know that somewhere she had made someone proud. That someone believed in her. Even if that someone was dead, it was enough to have the tears start to form. “Do not cry. Da’len.” he said giving her a gentle smile. 

“I- I’ve missed you.” the words were quiet as she spoke them, scared that if she said too much and spoke to loud that he would be gone again. Leaving her behind just as he had years ago. When he died. Weishaupt. Her eyes looked down at herself, she wasn’t in her warden armour there was no darkspawn gunk or blood, and she felt no pain. “Where am I? How- how are you here?” 

Ghilen’s deep brown eyes turned sad as he reached a handout for her to take. Despite the hesitation she took it this was her dad, and he was here. “I am sorry Enansal, you did so well.” slowly he began to lead her further into the forest. 

“What- I-” It slowly slithered in her mind, this was it. She was dead and her dad was here to help lead her to where she needed to be. “Oh…” she went quiet as they walked through the woods, her hand in his. Just like when she was a kid when she would refuse to be carried or ride in an araval he would walk with her. Their hands holding on to each other tightly as they moved to their next location. Once again, she felt like a little girl, excitedly walking her dad while her brothers stayed on an araval with their mamae. 

They walked for a while until he came to a sudden stop. His ears twitched as he looked around a confused look on his face before turning to Fisara. Watching him she was unable to say anything as she wanted for him to say something anything to explain the sudden stop. Images of Quinn filled her mind, her eyes red as tears fell down. Their hands having a faint green glow erupting from them as darkspawn kept coming but others had their back. Keeping the blighted bastards away from her while she worked. Their mouth moved but no words leaving. “It seems not yet, Enansal. When you get back. Help deal with those Gods. you have always been so strong.” he kissed her forehead “Give them hell Enansal.” 

“Wait-” her words fell on nothing as her dad vanished and so did the forest around her. Being taken away from them both. The pain returned, all over her body it erupted feeling as if she were on fire. Just as quickly as the pain came, she slipped back into unconsciousness, alive still even as she slept. 

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Dragon Age: The Veilguard (2024) dev. Bioware Neve Gallus in Black Casuals

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i need to sit on her lap and stress her out

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via @swatercolor [insta]

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Periodic reminder that if I know even a single thing about your Rook, I love them

Everyone has such precious lovely kids and I love them all SOOOO much

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A glimpse at a future

(A thing initially meant for Rook Wednesday that breached containment and turned into its own thing.)

Little thingy between Zeph and Jordan ( @seizethemage-main )

Plays before the beach episode, a fun little semi-domestic thing to ease everything down further before we reach Weisshaupt.

Unsure abt this! Feels weird to write something that isn’t angsty to be honest, but here we are!

Anyway, Ok…

Zeph walks across the halls of the common area with an uncharacteristically wide smile on her face. It earns her a few looks, ranging from amused to a little confused, and she couldn’t care less.

It‘s not all too rare for her to get excited about something as simple as receiving tea. Not only does it serve as a nice gesture from whoever thought of her enough to make that gift, she‘s also always happy to try out new ones.

It‘s a nice small interest, a soothing hobby she can tend to when she doesn‘t feel up to doing anything, or when her mind is being too loud to focus. With how frequent both of those occasions have been getting the past months, she’s become even more fond of it.

Something that makes her even happier than receiving it, however, is being able to offer it to someone else. This time is no different. Holding one of her newly acquired tins, she opens the door to find the person she had brought it for sitting at their desk. Probably working on something again (could she ask for a peek at their newest chapter?), they put down their pen and turn around at the sound of the door opening.

As always Jordan‘s expression turns into a fond smile upon who just came in. And as always, Zeph returns the smile while crossing the room. It might be a bit early to be so used to this already, but neither of them cares.

Once standing next to their chair, she bends down to kiss their cheek. A quiet hum emits in return.

„Hi there.“

“Hi, amata. How was your talk with Nels?”

Zeph makes a long, wary sound, causing an amused glint to appear in her partner‘s eyes.

“Awkward. I might’ve been a bit…mean.”

Jordan quirks an eyebrow curiously, turning in their chair to fully face her.

“You were mean to Nels? What happened?”

Now that might be a fun story to tell, she has to admit that. If she wasn’t so embarrassed about it, she might even be curious about Jordan’s reaction to hearing that she yelled at Nels about something they were, in hindsight, being rather reasonable about.

But she is embarrassed, and waves the question off with a small hand gesture. Maybe another time.

“Not that important, we’re all good now. I actually came over because I got something for you to try.”

Now she finally reveals the tea blend she was hiding behind her back, gently shaking the tin for effect.

“It’s a rose vanilla blend, but on a white tea base! Nels brought it for me, along with some other blends, and I thought maybe you might like to try it? Since it’s, almost like your favorite.”

Almost like their favorite? Why would they like something that is only at best an imitation of what they like? Maybe she should’ve just-

“I’d love to try it. It’s sweet that you thought of me. Thank you, darling.”

That easily, all incoming thoughts were cleared from her mind, and replaced by a timid little smile forming on her face. The self-satisfied, yet soft smile she gets in return tells her they were intending exactly that, yet again looking through her so easily. She can‘t bring herself to mind at all.

“It’s hard for me to not think of you, my love. You do your thing, I’ll prepare some for us, alright?”

She doesn’t wait for a response before turning around and heading for their small kitchenette, which she might still be jealous of. How come she doesn’t have one?

Or…does she now, technically speaking?

Since she spends most of her time here, doesn’t it kind of make this space both of theirs? She even moved some of her things here by now.

A small stack of books now sorted into the bookshelf, her notes and unfinished letters, always carefully moved to the side by Jordan before they dare claim their own desk. The map she is currently drawing in a larger format, hung on the wall for as long as it‘s a work in progress. Her clothes in their wardrobe, and so many more small things that maybe shouldn‘t matter, but they do to her.

They wake up and go to sleep together, tending to everyday tasks around each other. They‘re…essentially living together by now, aren‘t they?

She almost needs to press her hand on her chest to deal with the fluttery feeling emerging at the thought. Our home, our little kitchen. Is this what the future might look like?

She shouldn’t even dare imagining it, there are so many uncertainties. Not only about their mission, but also about their relationship. She always finds herself fearing it won’t last, and yet at this moment, she‘s dreaming of it somehow prevailing.

She feels Jordan’s gaze rest on her as she pours the water for the tea, hears the chair scrape on the floor as they get up. There’s no need to look, knowing their destination even before their arms wrap around her waist, and a soft kiss is placed on her shoulder.

“It smells nice, that’s a good sign.”

“That doesn’t say anything about how it will taste!”

She feels them shrug behind her.

“You brought it for me, I’m sure I’ll like it.”

Once all that’s left to do is let the tea steep, she turns around to meet her love’s lips. It’s only been a few hours, yet she already missed them during their time apart. She feels their hands gently move through her hair as they kiss, and she could melt right then and there.

All those touches to her hair might be one of, if not her favorite kind of affection to receive. Likely because it’s the one Jordan has been doing the longest. Brushing away that one persistent curl, that she doesn’t even see because it only ever covers her already blind eye. They definitely know that, but she’s still never going to outright tell them, just in case.

For some time they stand together, pretending the world isn’t ending around them. Maybe someday it won’t be. Maybe they won’t be standing in the lighthouse by then, but in their own home. Tea steeping behind them, just as it is doing right now.

It may be unrealistic, foolish even, to fantasize about such a future. Who knows what’s going to happen? Everything could go wrong in so many ways at any moment. And yet all of it feels so far away at this very moment, except one small thought in the back of her mind; If this really is what the future looks like, it’s worth doing whatever it takes to reach it.

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may we all have something lgbt happen to us this pride month 🙏

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in all seriousness it's very alienating knowing theres Something Wrong With You. like seeing your mental illness come through in your behaviour and thought processes and knowing it's irrational and unhealthy, knowing other people are reading you as weird or stupid, and not being able to do anything about it is such a lonely experience

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I continue to peddle my yuri agenda with these two…

Reina ofc belongs to @bubblecat-co

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RRAU Beach Episode: Zeph’s fit!

Since beach episode has started (hooray!!), my very formal post on Zeph’s fit!

Is Zeph’s favourite color green? In fact not, BUT she will still be wearing it, adorned with little snakes, since those are the favourites of a certain someone she just refuses to stop talking about-

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“It’s all you’ll ever be” (aka.: Zeph being left by her ex.)

Word count: 1411

An idea that has been stuck in my drafts for eternity, now emerging as I try to reduce the amount of lingering WIPs!

The end of past relationship that affects Zeph the most in the present time. I wrote this…differently than usual, so we’ll see how that is.

Ok, enjoy!

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“You’ve had one of your crashouts again.”

“How did you-”

“The whole place knows already.”

It’s barely been half a day since Zeph returned with her group, rumours really do spread fast. She shouldn’t be that surprised; the Shadow Dragons’ strength lies in their community. People talk, even if most voices aren’t malicious. In fact, the only condescending one so far has been Eris.

“Trust me, it all sounds a lot worse than it was.”

“Oh, so you didn’t throw a fit in the middle of a mission, over a magister that you thought could maybe be the one you’re looking for?”

“I-” Zeph frowns. It’s a rough summary, but she hates to admit that it isn’t wrong, either.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does, Zeph. You're not just making a fool of yourself, but of me too.”

”Of you? You’re not even a Shadow.”

“I’m still unlucky enough to be here, wasting my time for a reason the whole place seems to know about.”

Zeph is used to receiving jabs from the other woman, but this feels like..more than usual. She feels herself getting agitated over it, her response comes out more biting than intended.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, simply put for you, that I’m getting tired of your antics.”

“My antics??” Her voice raises subconsciously.

She knows fighting with Eris is useless. She should just apologise, try to salvage the situation with sweet words and a small gesture. But looking at Eris’ face, stern and unfeeling, the only emotion that rises within Zeph is, surprisingly, anger.

Is some kindness too much to ask for? Some comfort, a soft touch, any small sign of love? All she ever receives are comments on how she should function, what she needs to do better.

She knows she deserves those corrections, tries her best to take them and work with them, but she just can’t deal with them now. Not after what happened today.

“Can’t you say anything other than this? Are you this allergic to just, dropping a topic for once?”

Eris scoffs. The way she’s looking at Zeph is reminiscent of the way one would watch a child say something that lacks any form of knowledge and insight.

“What, don’t tell me you want praise? Do you want me to pat your back, tell you it’s alright? Or would you just lose it because I might accidentally touch that stupid scar there?”

It happened once, and it feels utterly unfair to mention this. She had just awoken from one of her nightmares and Eris, likely trying to be helpful, ran her fingers over her back when she jolted up. Neither of them intended it, but then those random patterns happened to almost perfectly trace her scar.

She had frozen, shrinking into herself before she shook and cried, barely getting herself to breathe, let alone speak. Eris had left at that moment, overwhelmed, or maybe appalled, by the display. They never talked about it. Until now, apparently. And the mention of it felt like the tip of a dagger being pushed directly into Zeph’s chest.

“You…really didn’t need to bring that up.” Eris rolls her eyes. Zeph continues.

“Is it so far-fetched to ask my girlfriend to just…be there for me, at least sometimes?”

“I told you to not call me that.” As every time she starts this topic, Eris’ voice is sharp, paired with a cold, dismissive look.

“Oh, so now I can’t? Let me guess, tonight I’m allowed to do it again, right?”

If looks could kill, Zeph would have dropped right as she finished talking.

“Zeph, you know exactly why-”

“If it was that, you wouldn’t keep changing it on a whim! Why am I only ever enough for some things sometimes?!”

She doesn’t want to yell at someone she cares for, yet her voice is echoing off the walls of the room they’re in. It sometimes feels like she is the patient one of the two, desperately waiting until she may finally receive the emotional bond she initially hoped for when getting into this.

“Because you’re a mess! And I’m the unlucky one who keeps having to deal with it!” That’s harsher than she normally words it. Zeph’s stomach twists, as it always does when she is called out on this.

“You knew that from the beginning.”

“I didn’t know you’d still be one now! Look at yourself. You keep having those outbursts whenever something happens, you refuse to enter any closed space, you even throw a fit when people use your complete name.”

“I don’t throw fits!”

“Calling them something else won’t change what they are! What’s up with that nickname anyway?” Eris shakes her head with a huff. “Doesn’t matter. My point is, you constantly refuse to just, be better! All you do is make sure we know that you’re the most unwell person in the room.”

“I..I don’t do that, I just-”

“You just remind me of your so-very-awful past whenever you get the chance, yes. Who are you even trying to lie to right now?” Eris pauses, her voice lowering as she looks into Zeph’s eyes.

“Even after all my efforts, you’re still nothing more than a sad ex-slave, obsessed with vengeance and fishing for pity. You could’ve just told me at the beginning that this is all you are.”

“It’s not!" Her voice breaks for a second, her response comes out too loud and high in tone. “I’m trying, Eris. You said it’d be okay if I needed time, that you would wait for me.”

“Honestly? I’m getting tired of waiting. And the longer I wait, the more I believe that I’m getting tired of you, Zeph.”

Eris might just secretly be a mage, with how suddenly all of Zeph’s blood seems to have frozen in her veins.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do. I mean it more than any other word I’ve ever wasted on you.”

“You…said you love me.”

“You know why I said that.” She hisses, before her controlled, cold tone returns. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“But I did, when I said it back!”

“That isn’t my problem. You should’ve known very well what this was. And I’m not here to fix you, either!”

“I never wanted you to!”

“Then why don’t you ever stop acting like it?”

Zeph wants to interject, to defend herself, but any words she could’ve said gets stuck in her throat, forcing itself out combined into a sob.

“And again! I’m not gonna go back on my words just because you start crying! It’s always the same with you!” It’s now Eris’ turn to shout again, each word feeling like a blade pointed directly at Zeph. The tears now coming forth aren’t helping the situation, causing Eris to huff in annoyance.

“No need to play the victim now! You know, I also tried! I tried to see something behind this entire disaster, someone who can be loved, but there just isn’t such a thing within you! I’m done wasting my time on a lost cause, Zeph! I’m done! We are done!”

A moment passes before the realisation sets in. Zeph tries to reach out, Eris pulls her arm away.

“No, no, wait, please, I’m trying my best, I’ll get better, just, please-”

But Eris is already walking out. There is nothing left to be said.

Zeph sinks down to the floor, grasping the situation as she shrinks into herself, trying to muffle her crying.

Whenever Eris had threatened that this would happen eventually, Zeph was inclined to not take it all too seriously. How serious can a threat be when it’s made constantly?

If she had only listened, if she had done more.

But she didn’t. She’s still the same person she was a few months ago. Whenever they met, when Zeph looked at herself in the mirror across Eris’ bedroom in the morning, the first thing she saw each time was the scar pulling across her abdomen. A ghost of the memory comes up each time, no matter how hard she tried not to think about it.

And each time, she regretted looking. Sometimes she regretted being there in the first place, when she noticed Eris’ frowning face in the background of her reflection. She almost felt used at times, but Eris promised her that they’re more, that they will be more. Until she blew that chance just now.

Eris tried to fix her. It was a wasted effort on Zeph. The past is all she is, and all she’ll ever be.

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Neve's "A rescue? You're sweet." gets me every time. The slight softening of her voice, the hint of surprise/disbelief.