#but she's an oc from my novel

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlights where Phantom saves Duke or the Signal, and a week later (at a Wayne gala or some other place) Duke recognizes the light/aura coming from Danny

Putting off gala prep was perhaps not the best plan. Duke spent the past month insisting that everything is fine and he has it under control. Duke is also a lying liar who lies, and now he’s frantically trying to pick up his suit in time to get it dry cleaned and altered as necessary. 

Alfred would be disappointed in him, but in Duke’s defense, he had to go out of town on a mission to bust a growing drug cartel, and then spent half a week visiting a shelter for metas on the run (unofficial and hidden away) to help everyone find new homes and learn to control their powers. These things take time!

Unfortunately, gala prep also takes time, and since it’s a charity gala for funding the education of every Gothamite student, it’s not one he can slip out of. The entire family is being strong-armed into attending and not making a scene until the donation period in the first half is over. 

Duke knows he’s not the only one who’s scrambling to get ready for a gala that’s taking place in three days, but they’re not helping him, so it feels like he’s the only one messing up. 

“Sorry!” he calls behind him as he sprints through a group of people. 

He could have asked someone to drive him, but he knows they’re all busy and doesn’t want his own poor time management to cause problems for anyone else. Even though he’s sure Bruce is looking for an excuse to get out of a mandatory Wayne Enterprises board meeting that both Lucius and Tim dragged him to.

RIP Bruce. He will be missed.

The Diamond District is full of people walking the streets, sprinting between parked cars and waiting for their rides. They’re all dressed nicely, making him feel out of place. It’s a feeling that’s never left him since he joined the Waynes but it’s particularly bad when he’s left to navigate these spaces alone. Rich people and socialites are a different kind of human, one that Duke doesn’t care to understand; there’s greed in all of them, turning them heartless, and they can give as much as they want to charity but it won’t change the fact that all they do is a performance to make people like them, rather than a desire to do anything good. 

The sooner this is over, the better. He keeps going, hoping that he can still make it to his appointment with the tailor. Alfred recommended the store, then set up the appointment, so all Duke has to do is trust their judgment as they get him fitted. He’s still got twenty minutes until the scheduled time, but some unspoken rule makes it so he has to show up fifteen minutes early for better service or risk being turned away and told to reschedule. 

Duke slows to a walk when he catches sight of the store, the trying to catch his breath and look more composed before he reaches the door. He takes a moment to straighten his clothes a bit, then opens the door and steps in.

The bell jingles pleasantly above his head. The store is empty of any other customers, and the employee at the front counter looks up with a plastered on smile. 

“I’ll be with you in a moment!” she says, then looks down at her phone and types something out before placing it under the counter. A tablet comes out instead and she swipes through a few screens, then sets it down and look at Duke again. “How can I help you, sir?”

“I have an appointment? For a suit fitting. Under the name Thomas.”

She taps on the screen for a minute, then nods and gives him another customer service smile. “Alright, I’ll go ahead and grab the tailor. They’ll be out with your suit soon. Please, feel free to take a seat or browse some of our suits. We just recently got a new collection in from Italy.”

“Sure, thanks. I’ll just… be here, I guess.”

The employee takes her tablet and disappears through a door, leaving him alone in the store. He doesn’t want to sit down, not while his heart is still trying to settle from his sprint through half of Diamond District, so Duke wanders around the neat stacks of dress shirts and vests, pants and belts and shoes lined up neatly against the walls. 

He takes a moment to shoot Alfred a text that he’s at the tailor for his fitting appointment. Steph’s sent him a long string of videos online, and he’s just about to go through them when the bell rings again. 

Duke glances up and watches a guy walk into the store. He looks around, makes eye contact with Duke, then quickly looks down, taking a seat by the door.

Probably another upper class citizen uncomfortable with the fact that someone in jeans and a hoodie is shopping for suits. Shaking his head lightly, Duke wanders deeper into the store to get some distance between them so they could ignore each other more easily. It’s only until the tailor comes out, and then he can go to a fitting room and be done with this whole thing, so Duke resigns himself to suffering through the tense silence. 

How long is he even supposed to wait? He can only look at clothes in one of three colors before he gets bored. 

He goes to another rack, trying to see if he can notice anything different about these shirts. 

And then he hears a shoe scuff against the floor behind him. He tenses up, but before he can turn around, a belt is wound around his throat, pulling him back and choking him. 

Duke drops his weight, tucking his chin and gets a hand against the inside of the belt to try to push it away. His back hits someone’s chest and he’s trapped, focused on trying not to be choked to death while also keeping his vigilante abilities and meta powers secret. 

More footsteps come from behind, and a soaked cloth is pressed against his nose and mouth.

Chloroform, he realizes, familiar with the smell from Bruce’s training. But training isn’t enough to keep him from being knocked out, and he quickly slips away from the waking world, falling to the ground. 

Just before he passes out completely, he hears the employee who greeted him say, “I’m not sure how much Wayne would be willing to pay for him, but let’s start high and negotiate lower. New kid can’t possibly be worth that much…”

Duke wakes up groggily, memories of what happened quickly snapping into place. He’s too out of it still to get up, but he’s awake enough to be offended. Sure he’s the new kid, and barely even a Wayne, but he’s still worth a lot!

Kidnappers these days. So rude.

He doesn’t hear anyone around him, and it feels like he’s lying on a cold concrete floor. Basement, maybe? Warehouse? Storage unit tucked away somewhere? There’s nothing much to see when Duke is able to open his eyes, squinting bareilly at his surroundings. His arms are tied behind him, wrists bound, but they left his legs alone. 

If he could just hit the panic button on his bracelet…

Duke wiggles around, fighting through the lingering effects of Chloroform, and manages to sit up. If he strains his hearing, he thinks he can hear voices outside of the empty room he’s been left in. There’s a window high up, too high for a normal person to reach without help, but if he can use the shadows to travel through it, then he may be able to escape on his own. 

First things first: he needs to free his hands before anyone comes in to check on him.

They used zip ties on him, which is inconvenient. He’s learned how to get out of them, but it’s difficult enough without being drugged and having to do it behind his back. 

He’s feeling the zip ties bite into his wrists just as there’s a crash from outside the room. His kidnappers yell, alarmed, and are quickly silenced. That’s rarely ever a good sign. Duke renews his efforts to escape, ignore the pain in pushing against his binds like this. 

The door opens. Duke hears the small click of a lock disengaging and freezes. Then he gets to his feet, still unsteady, and prepares to ram his head into anyone who comes near him like some sort of deranged battering ram, or a drunk raging bull. 

Duke is ready for the worst: a gang hoping to steal away a Wayne hostage, a Rogue, Gnomon popping in to cause trouble for the sole purpose of getting on Duke’s nerve. 

He’s not expecting another teenage boy, who is literally glowing, to poke his head in and zero in on Duke. He blinks, then smiles; it’s friendly and sincere, nothing like the employee who helped kidnap him. 

“Hey!” he says, coming into the room properly. He’s floating a good foot off the ground, eyes a bright neon green, with white hair that sways as if he’s underwater. “Are you okay? I saw them drag you out of the back of the store and followed them, but I got a bit lost. Sorry for taking so long to get here.”

“...It’s fine?” Duke offers, trying to wrap his head around what’s happening. “I wasn’t expecting a rescue so soon, anyways. Think you can help me out here?”

“Yeah, of course!” he flies closer, then drops down to the ground behind Duke. He hums lightly under his breath, and then Duke feels a cold touch on his wrist and the zip ties are suddenly gone. 

Duke blinks, then brings his arms in front of him. He moves around a bit to make sure he’s not hallucination, and sure enough, he’s free and unbound because a random meta teenager vanished the zip ties into the ether, or something. 

“Thanks, man. Any idea where we are?”

“Not a clue. I got lost coming here, and I was following them. I don’t think you should trust any directions I give.”

“Fair enough,” Duke laughs. “I’m Duke, by the way.”

“Phantom.”

“Well, thanks for the save, Phantom. Can I treat you to something?”

“Like, coffee?”

“Sure. Or brunch, or ice cream. Whatever you want, really.”

Phantom considers it for a moment, then shakes his head. “Sorry, I would love to but going out in public looking like this,” he gestures to himself, “Is not a great idea. Thanks for the offer though. You got a ride?”

Duke pats his pockets, then sighs. “My phone’s gone. I still have my wallet, though.”

“I fly you to someplace you can call someone, if you’d like.”

“You sure? I could probably just walk out of here and call a taxi.”

“I don’t think walking around by yourself after being kidnapped is a great idea,” Phantom says, doubtfully. “Seriously, let me fly you.”

He should just hit the panic button and wait for someone to show up to get him. He shouldn’t go to some unknown location with a meta he literally just met. 

But, you know what? No one else can say they got kidnapped twice in one day, so Duke nods and says, “Sure, sweep me off my feet, Phantom. You gotta commit to this rescue.”

Phantom laughs. And then he does sweep Duke off his feet into a princess carry with a cheeky grin and flies them out the building, which turns out to be an abandoned apartment building slated for demolition. 

“Keep this up and you’ll be replacing Superman in no time,” Duke jokes.

“I think I could manage it,” Phantom replies thoughtfully. “I mean, I’m already prettier than him, don’t you think?”

“Oh, definitely. The glow really brings out your eyes.”

Phantom gets him a few blocks away when Duke recognizes where they are, and quickly directs him into Crime Alley. They land on top of one of Jason’s safe houses, and while he’s sure there’s enough security to take out a SWAT Team, that’s absolutely not going to stop him from breaking in to use one of Jason’s burner phones and eat his leftovers. 

He’s set down on his feet gently, and as soon as Phantom sees that he’s fine, able to walk and everything, he floats back up, just out of reach.

“Be careful, okay?” he says, getting ready to leave.

“I’ll do my best. Hey, are you gonna be in Gotham for a while, or…?”

Phantom gives him a tired smile. “Nah. I’m just passing through. As long as my luck doesn’t get even worse, then I should be out of here in a few days.”

“Shame,” Duke says, giving Phantom a very visible once over. He’s pretty tall, and Duke can see some muscle on him, and the tight black outfit really adds to his look. The glow that comes out of his chest makes him look ethereal and Duke is beyond glad that he got such a charming rescuer.

Phantom doesn’t blush like a normal person. He glows brighter instead, curling into himself a bit as he looks away, unable to stop the smile from growing on his face. 

“I guess,” he shrugs. “Are you really going to be alright from here?”

“Yeah, man, I have a friend who lives here. I’ll just bother him until he agrees to give me a ride.”

“Alright.” Phantom drifts away, glancing behind him before turning back to Duke. “I’ll get going then. Take care, Duke!”

Duke waves and watches as Phantom begins to fly away. Then Phantom… disappears? Or rather, his body does but Duke can see an orb of light making its way across Gotham, almost like a star fallen from the sky.

He stays on the roof until the light is long gone. When he’s finally ready to go in and steal from Jason, the sun has completely set. 

And he still doesn’t have his suit.

Duke sighs, and mentally prepares himself to other day of stressing out about the gala.

Three days of stress and last minute scrambling leave Duke in the Gotham Museum of Modern Art with Steph, Tim, Cass, and Damian. They’re hiding in the photography gallery to avoid other guests, taking a break from being polite and letting thinly veiled, passive aggressive insults slide over them.

.

.

.

“How much longer must we suffer this before we can go?” Damian grumbles, looking like he’s do anything to get his hands on a blade. Which, considering how many people tried to either pinch his cheeks are say some racist remark about him and his mother, is totally fair. Duke would just punch them, but sometimes a little drama helped get the message across. 

“At least two more hours,” Tim says, not bothering to look up from his phone. From what few glimpses of the screen Duke caught, he’s leading a Titans missions through text and clever hacking. Though it may be more accurate to call is a Young Justice mission since there’s no way any of this was authorized by a Justice League member. 

Also Anita, suited up as Empress, is there. If they aren’t on the news for property destruction and absolutely batshit wild shenanigans, Duke will have to check on Tim to make sure he’s not a pod person sent to infiltrate the family. 

“Think we can sneak out without anyone noticing?” Steph asks, looking at the emergency exit longingly.

Cass shakes her head and points to the door leading to the ballroom. When they look over, Dick makes very deliberate eye contact with them and give them a smile that looks stretched across his face.

Tim winces and pushes Duke. “Oh, something went down. Go take over for him and let Dick rest in here for a bit.”

“Man, why does it have to be me?” he grumbles even as he stands. Dick lets out a heavy breath and gives Duke a grateful smile, patting on the shoulder before shoving him out the door. 

As soon as he’s back into the main hallway, the music and chatter swell, no longer muffled by the thick walls of the photography wing. A few people come and go from the ballroom, no doubt looking for the restroom. 

Or more private places for… other things. Things they definitely shouldn’t be doing in an art museum.

He really can’t wait for this night to be over.

Duke joins the rest of the guests, fake smile on his face, and quickly makes his way to the snack table. He might as well make the most of his time stuck out here. Maybe he could even cause another relationship scandal by implying that Bruce is sleeping with one of partners when in hearing distance of a couple. Maybe even both of them. 

Bruce would go with it. It’s hilarious and he also needs something to make these events bearable.

Sadly, he doesn’t see any good targets as he scans the ballroom. A few people are dancing, while others are talking in small circles, closed off from outsiders. There’s an entire table of old ladies with glasses of wine in front of them; Duke considers hanging around them, since they confess to a lot of crimes after a few glasses. It’s fascinating. 

Also, he does kind of miss hanging out with the one old lady who’s declared herself his high society grandmother and told him stories of how she used to go to bars to find racist people or Klan members during the Jim Crow era, seduce them, then poison them and get their addresses so a few gangs she was friends with would fuck them up.

Granny Kaliasto is the coolest person ever. 

Just as he’s about to finish his last mini rolled crepe, Duke catches sight of one of the few teenagers still in the ballroom. The others, mostly stuck up rich kids no one actually likes, have already left to take over some other part of the museum to gossip until their parents decide it’s time to go home. These two are clearly not part of that crew, what with the girl being very goth and in a poofy, ripped dress, and the boy having already taken his jacket off to keep over his forearm, the top button of his shirt popped open.

They might be cool. He’s hoping they’re cool because he desperately needs some company to keep from dying of boredom while the gala continues on.

Duke walks over to them, going around the side of the ballroom, until he’s close enough to hear them talking.

The boy has his back to Duke, but the girl sees him. She immediately scowls and slaps the boys shoulder, eyes locked on Duke.

“Got another comment about my dress?” she says, voice sharp and acidic.

“Another?” Duke repeats. “I was just bored and wanted to talk to people who were my age. Sorry?”

The boy smacks the girl’s arm, then turns to face Duke. “Sorry about her! Sam is just naturally rude and aggressive. Tonight’s been a bit rough, with this crowd.”

Duke goes to say something, but the words stick in his throat when he sees the boy’s eyes shift from deep blue to an electric green. When he focuses, he can see a faint glow in his chest, the same glow he saw in Phantom.

“Dude? You alright?”

Sam looks him over judgmentally. “I guess it’s nice that I’m not being ogled for once, but don’t do that shit to Danny either.”

“Wait, that’s not what I was doing!” Duke hurries to say, snapped out of his shock. “I just… you look a lot like someone I met recently.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. What was your name? I’m Duke, by the way.”

He holds out a hand, and the boy shakes it with a small smile. “Danny. I don’t think we’ve met. I mean, I’m only here because Sam wouldn’t come to this gala without me, so her parents flew me in.”

“You from out of town?”

“Sam and I are from Illinois. Her parents are traveling around the east coast right now, and they decided to spend a week in Gotham to talk business.”

“I’d ask how it is, but outsiders tend to really hate Gotham, so…”

Sam barks out a sharp laugh. “Oh please, we can handle Gotham. Our town might not be as big and well known as Gotham, but we got our own shit to deal with there.”

“I do get shot at a lot back home,” Danny adds thoughtfully. “And that’s without the ghosts.”

“Woah, what?”

“Up for a bit of a story?” Danny asks, impish grin on his face. By his side, Sam brings a hand up to cover a manic smile, shoulders already shaking with laughter. 

This is already better than the grandma gang. Duke leans against the wall, getting settled in, and says, “Always, man. Hit me with it.”

The next hour an a half passes quickly with Sam and Danny dramatically narrating some of the things that have happened in their town. Duke listens, absolutely enraptured, and doesn’t even notice the Waynes file into the ballroom again. 

Unfortunately, they bring with them the attention of most of the ballroom, including Bruce and Sam’s parents. 

She cuts the current story about Box Ghost short with a heavy sigh. “Hold up, I need to greet the Waynes properly while my parents are watching.” She steps in front of Duke and Danny, holding out a hand with a pained smile.

Tim takes it first, giving a solid shake, and introductions start. 

Free from the rules of high society, if only for the moment, Duke leans closer to Danny and whispers to him, “Phantom. Wanna get out of here?”

Danny flinches and turns to him looking panicked. “How did you know?”

“I kinda got magic eyes. I see a lot of things normal humans can’t. Don’t worry about it. I still owe you, so you wanna get out of here?”

He watches as Danny glances around the ballroom, then back to him, clearly weighing out his options. Then he nods and says, “Know where to get a good milkshake around here?”

“Sure do.”

“I guess you’re the one rescuing me this time.”

“Not a rescue,” Duke corrects, and casually picks Danny up over his shoulder into a fireman’s carry, “A kidnapping.”

Danny laughs and waves Sam and all the others goodbye as Duke marches out of the ballroom.

“Don’t bother me for the next two hours!” he calls to the Waynes, “I’m going on a date!”

There are shocked gasps and murmurs all through the crowd. But as he spins around to wave at his shocked and easily amused family, he also catches sight of Granny Kaliasto raising her half full wine glass towards him.

She really is the coolest.

He’s definitely telling her all about this at the next event they attend together. It’ll be nice to have a few stories of his own to share.

[sableunavailable]

Babygirl got revamped, peep the horror

[sitraachranovel]

Just a King and her Secretkeeper. :>

A crop of a larger sketch with some very quick and messy shading.

[3584-tropical-fish]

Call that artistic development or something. Big win for the me community

[vio1315]

Skye Progress 2012 - Present

[dykeofmisfortune]

writing project update the play i'm writing for the play fest is becoming yuri hannibal combined with deltarune snowgrave route but if both of those had a flair of comedy

[mistystarshine]

The end of your most recent MerAU fic. Why does Lilith save (I assume that's what's happening), Adam? He's clearly changed from the man she knew for so long, even when given a chance to leave by Lucifer, he tried to kill them still.

Emotions aren't logical. Someone can hurt you and still love you. You can be hurt by someone and still love them. You can hurt them back while desperately wishing that you weren't. Someone can hurt you and in the process horrendously hurt themselves, and you can be stuck watching, unable to do a goddamn thing, but still desperately wishing that it would not end like this. That there was something, anything, you could do to save them from the fate they are careening towards.

It did not make logical sense for Lilith to save Adam. But this is not about logic. There is a part of them that still loves each other and always will. That part of her couldn't stand by and let him die like this. It's not about the things that can never be forgiven, it's about the love that was there once and how it will always matter, no matter how hard you try to forget it.

...It's also worth mentioning that Lilith didn't just save Adam's life and let him walk home - she turned him into a siren. This is where the series really suffers from ending it where I did. She wasn't just saving him, she was punishing him. If he dies, it's done, it's over, he has an easy out. Now he has to live with the consequences of his actions and reckon with their inhumanity. He can never be a hunter again. He can never interact with any of his old friends, because the sort of people he associated with would turn on him in a heartbeat. As far as anyone knows, Lute would kill him if she saw him again, and while his own family aren't hunters, it's expected that they'd reject him. He's lost everything, become one of the very creatures he hates, and now he has to choose between becoming one of the killers that he used as an excuse to slaughter mers, starving to death, or turning to the people he tried to kill for help.

At the end of the day, it was more about saving him than punishing him. But if you asked Lilith, she'd lie. Even to herself.

[fleurology]

freya vidamour 🥀

[infestedviscera]

Character concept art for a small project I want to make, fish girl dating sim

[lilbitosunny]

Just do it. Even though it hurts- just do it.

Anyways hi hello This is a cover I made for my book- Grief In Your Walls UuU

A few close-ups below!

[savage-rhi]

Gene Dawkins (Death Stranding)

Caelan Zamfir (FFXV)

Sonja Ainsley (RE8)

Sawyer Kiddo (Resident Evil)

Rhi aka JT-121 (Ravage)

Tav/Khal (BG3)

Decided to give my baby girl ocs some love. I'm proud of them all. Even when they done goof and fuck up real bad cause they're all flawed bitches in some way.

Picrew Link Here

[emilyjunk]

Rambled to my gf for like 10 mins about my new novel idea and then finally explained the key point of it and she said "oh my God that's genius, you're cooking" so today is not so bad I guess

[blujayonthewing]

'wow I never would have guessed that melliwyk gets so strongly and instantly attracted to people for being clearly and overtly passionate about something, how funny' I say, as if her response to the warforged cleric with the life's mission of discovering lost and forgotten gods wasn't 'I've only had caretaker for five minutes but if anything happens to him I'm killing everyone in this room and myself'

[ominous-feychild]

✦ OC Questionnaire Tag 3 ✦

Thanks for the tag, @illarian-rambling!

Characters from Sun and Shadow: Freya, Crow, and Valyarus Characters from the Arcane Rifts: Gene, Tazin, and Mislav Featuring tAR's children at ages 15, 17, and 17! (Aka mid book 2.)

Questions: - Do you have a tell when you're lying? - What other media genre would you do the worst in? - Are you confident in yourself? from @the-letterbox-archives

Do you have a tell when you're lying?

Freya: Um... not that I know of? I'm not really in the habit of lying? (*remembers that she does, in fact, lie a lot... but mostly through omission of the truth!*) Haha... yeah! ... ugh, okay, um. If I had to guess... (*shifts uncomfortably in place*) it would probably be that I struggle in what to say? Though I kinda do that anyway? Ugh, I don't really know. (A/N: the easiest sign to tell that she's "lying" is that she avoids the subject completely. She'll change the subject or "get distracted". She also fidgets more, but that's something she does a lot anyways because she's awkward.)

Crow: Of course not! I don't lie anyway, so how would I find out? 😉🥰 (psst... Crow...) What? (You're supposed to basically be under truth serum for these Questionnaire posts...) Okay. And? 😘 (So you're telling me that you, a detective, have never told a lie once?) ... (See the issue there?) Nope! 😄 (A/N: WHELP! Uncooperative Crow understandably won't tell you, so I will. They're a very good liar, so it's hard to tell when they do. The best indicator is that they'll stumble slightly in their speech when almost saying something "they shouldn't" or they'll hesitate while trying to come up with a lie. The falters are always subtle though.)

Valyarus: (*snorts*) I would think not. Besides, I'm not in the habit of lying. There's too much magic that can force you into Truth-telling to be able to rely on it--no, best is operating in half-truths and implication. The best method of deception is allowing the one you wish to deceive to come up with the answers for themself. For example... (*slowly smirks, quirking an eyebrow*) I never said I don't lie just now... did I? (A/N: ahhh, our beloved douchebag faerie living up to his species's reputation. In other words: he's a fantastic "liar".)

Gene: I... don't know. I'd... like to think not. Maybe... maybe that I... (*takes a slow, deep breath, collecting himself*) ... I probably act more confident when I lie. I... I'm not confident. And probably don't... stutter as much. Or hesitate... So, speaking patterns? They--they change, I mean. My speaking patterns. When I lie.

Tazin: (*snarls*) I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about, you got me? I--I-- (*struggling to lie because of the whole "these questions are answered under basically-truth serum" thing*) FINE! I don't fucking lie because I can't, okay? I avoid the subject! Or I just--I don't know, I just fucking lie??? How am I supposed to fucking know if I have a "tell"??? Don't you think I'd fucking fix it if I knew??? (A/N: he gets avoidant of the subject and/or highly aggressive to dissuade the asker from continuing at the moment... or generally asking again.)

Mislav: Um... this is a weird question?... I guess I don't really--(*remembers he lies literally all the time*)--lie... (*lets out a slow, pained sigh, running his hands back through his hair in frustration*) I don't know? I just--try my best to bullshit it? Try to make people feel better, or avoid giving them the information they want? I don't know??? (A/N: best indication is that he answers too quickly. He usually practices/rehearses his lies before it comes time to actually tell them. Otherwise (if he didn't expect to have to lie/doesn't have one prepared), he freezes up, stutters, and smiles/jokes too much as he tries "appeasing" or distracting the questioner.)

What other media genre would you do the worst in?

(we're going to be implanting Forbidden Knowledge of our Real World genres and whatnot for them to be able to best answer this!)

Freya: The horror genre. (*shudders*) I cannot deal with scary stuff, okay? I think I would be the first to die. I'd scream, or cry, and break down--probably try hitting the monster or whatever over the head with a chair when it turns the corner and, well... that never goes well in those sorts of things, does it?

Crow: Fairy tales. I'd either be the "lesson"--"don't do this or look what happens to you! You'll become Crow!"--or I'd be whatever the horrifying monster or villain is. I mean... (*laughs awkwardly, looking away and rubbing their shoulder feathers*) when you're me... you get used to knowing you're what's wrong with the world. (*beat. They realize what they've just said--*) I mean, romance. I'd probably annoy my love interest to death. 😎

Valyarus: (*fake gags, then with disgust:*) Romance. My only "biological" child was through magic, and I would not step foot near anyone with that sort of intention. I don't understand how others do. Much less why my daughter is so interested in Freya. They just met! (note: he's aroace and is equally disgusted with romance and sex. Also, yes, I know that's not how all aroace people are. I have plenty of other characters everywhere else in the spectrum. This is just where Valyarus is.)

Gene: Um... probably romance. I...'m not interested in it... not really. Be-besides with Mislav, I mean... and I... I don't even know why he likes me? 😅😓 ... people think I'm creepy. They don't say it--not to my face--but I know they think it. And I... I struggle to talk with people a lot. I try to say one thing, but they think I mean another?... I don't understand why. It's hard. And I--... I don't think I'd do well in that kind of story.

Tazin: The kinda thing where I'd have to teach. I don't have that kind of fucking patience, are you fucking kidding me? I think I'd explode on them. Maybe even literally. (*He pauses, considering it... and grins darkly*) Actually, wait--I take it back. I want to try. (I want to tag in and say traditional horror/thriller. I think the degree to which he'd freak out or curse out the monster would be comical and/or break the immersion, haha.)

Mislav: I would not be able to participate in a talk show or be in the news. A talk show? (*scoff*) Regardless of the subject, it wouldn't take long for me to be driven mad by their endless talking and pretending they know everything. The news? Even worse. I think I'd snap their mic in half. And only because I'd be struggling not to snap other things. <.< (read: necks, limbs, etc.)

Are you confident in yourself?

Freya: Ha... no, not really. I act like I am, but... y'know, it's just that--an act.

Crow: What's not to be confident about? I'm the greatest, I've never made a mistake in my life, and every decision I make is the best one I possibly can! 😘

Valyarus: (*poised on a grand chair; sipping tea elegantly with one hand while the other hangs over the side of the armrest. A nail file magically hangs in the air and is filing his nails while he sips tea*) Hm? What did you say? Oh. (*chuckles*) Of course I'm confident in myself. My abilities, my character, my decisions--everything. 😉💅

Gene: Depends what you mean by "myself"... (*goes quiet, looks away, and debates*) ... I... I try my best to make the right decisions. The best ones... that I possibly can. I--as hard as it is to not question them, it's--it's not good to worry about past decisions. I do my best, and that's--that's all I can do. So... (*takes a deep breath, collecting his thoughts*) I'm not confident, but I try to be.

Tazin: (*snarls*) Of course I'm confident. I've gotten this far, haven't I? (*and slowly starting to smirk instead--*) I mean, look at me. (*leans back and gestures at himself with both hands*) I used to live on the streets with Gene. Now I have a girlfriend. People used to be terrified at my name--and they still would be if I didn't have to stop with the whole "Svarog" thing. (*oops, snarls again and leans in close; threateningly*) Look, I don't care what anyone else says, but Gene wasn't the only reason we were successful! He wouldn't have gotten anywhere without my strength, got it!?!? (Is actually less confident than he thinks he is--overcompensates for that by having convinced himself that he's the greatest. Hm... wonder if that fits the diagnosis criteria for anything?)

Mislav: Ha... not at all. (*swallows and looks down at his hands, fighting back tears*) I... one of these days, this curse is going to take over me. Will I even know when it does? Or will it be slow enough that I never even recognize that I've changed? I... (*looks back up at asker*) I worry, one of these days, I'll only know it when I've done something I can't come back from...

Your questions: - Same as the ones I answered!

Tagging (with no pressure) @yourpenpaldee @honeybewrites @fantasy-things-and-such @wyked-ao3 @the-golden-comet

@paeliae-occasionally @ath3alin @mysticstarlightduck @the-letterbox-archives + open tags!

Divider from @cafekitsune

[sleepingfancies]

Prithee, tell me which one of your OCs haunts your mind most today?

AUAUHGHGHGHG i've been sucked back into dragon age hell and i've been thinking about my Rowena Trevelyan all day . major inquisition + trespasser dlc spoilers and an extremely long ramble under the cut im so so sorry beloved mutual </3

she was just a KID like.... Rowena was permitted to go to the conclave as a budding apprentice mage. as an OBSERVER she didn't even get a vote. she was wandering around during a break when she happened upon the ritual . it was like an academic field trip for her, a chance for her to see the politics behind the scene and nothing more. and within hours her mentor and everyone she knew was killed in the blast and she was the sole survivor. and then she became surrounded by people she didn't know and handed responsibility and divinity she never asked for and had no clue how to handle !!!!!!!!!!!!

and this is AFTER she was essentially abandoned by her Trevelyan family for being a mage in the first place. 5 generations of non-mages and her parents thought they were safe for sure and then they had Her. a recessive gene last seen a century ago resurfacing . they threw her in the circle at the first opportunity. she sent letters for the first few years - they never answered. her family became her mentor and her fellow mage children. she learned young that the Maker didn't want her, that her magic was a mistake. her family would've loved her just fine if she hadn't been a mage.

so she's just so ANGRY about it all deep down. everyone she knows is killed and these strangers have the NERVE to call HER - a mage, a mistake, an affront to the Maker - the Herald of Andraste. one cataclysmic event and suddenly everyone thinks she's not only special for her magic, but a gift from the Maker. and how dare they!!! how dare they respect her and beg for her help now after so many years of neglect and lies and abuse!!

the first thing Cassandra does is question whether she believes in the Maker. and what is she supposed to say? "He believes my existence is a mistake, so I believe He exists as a tyrant" is what comes to her mind. but she grew up around templars and learned not to speak her mind around people she couldn't 100% trust. so she holds her tongue and says she isn't sure what to believe anymore. it's not entirely a lie, and it placates Cassandra: the person who could most easily decide she was more of a liability than a blessing.

as time passes in Haven, Solas becomes her new mentor; a surprise to both of them, really. but he knows more about spirits and the Fade than she was ever taught - she doesn't even know how to use the mark on her hand. He teaches her how to close the rifts, how to navigate the Fade in her dreams, how to learn all that spirits have to offer. She looks up to him. between him and Dorian and Vivienne, she has finally found similar company. Dorian never questions her caution about believing in the Maker. Vivienne never judges her for not knowing much about the world outside the circle. Solas is helping her grow and learn.

the other companions help, too. she latches onto Blackwall - he's like the father she never had. Iron Bull and the Chargers take her in and give her social sanctuary. Sera agrees not to call her the Herald, and knows exactly how to make her laugh. Cole helps her process her former mentor's death and her separation from her friends at the wycome circle. Varric won't let her overwork herself, he knows she didn't want any of this. for awhile, things seem okay.

and then Corypheus comes. Haven is destroyed. she's lost in the wilderness with cracked ribs and a broken leg and she's freezing to death. she doesn't even remember how the advisors found her, or where. "we saw our hero fall, and rise again" Mother Giselle says. if people didn't believe Rowena was sent by the Maker before, they do now. she doesn't believe it herself. she hates it. she's angry at them all

then comes Skyhold. a throne, judgment over prisoners, occupying Crestwood, deals with Starkhaven and the Antivan Crows and Kal-Sharok, "Inquisitor," traversing the Fade physically, the Chantry asking after her companions as Divine candidates, all of it. Every decision that should be brokered between entire countries comes down to one barely-in-her-20s apprentice mage who didn't even know what Val Royeaux looked like 6 months ago.

the bubbly attitude she tried to keep up starts to crack. her parents write her a letter asking if she could set aside some of the Inquisition's coin to cover their legal fees after they had a property feud with the Selbach family. she never writes back. "get to the point," she tells Morrigan, something she never would have said before all of this. the judgments come down harsher. the executions get a little too easy to carry out. she closes the rifts more aggressively than before.

and then Corypheus is beaten. the Breach is sealed. for one brief moment, the thought crosses her mind: 'I can finally leave.' she can go back to the wycome circle and hug her old friends, tell them what happened. she can go see the world she never could before. the mark on her hand can stop making people bow to her even when she begs them not to. she did what the Inquisition set out to do. it's over. it's done.

and then they never let her go.

even as her new friends scatter to the wind, dusting their hands off, their moral obligation fulfilled, Rowena sits on the Inquisition throne and feels herself rotting. Solas abandoning her without so much as a goodbye after Corypheus fell stung, but a part of her expected it, too. she caught on quickly that he wasn't the type of person to linger once he felt his role was done. so that was fine. she made peace with that. but the others? Sera, Blackwall, Vivienne, all of them? one by one, they left with an urgency that felt like a dagger to the heart. only Dorian admitted he lingered for the sake of her friendship, but even he was called away eventually.

and then another glimmer of hope: Orlais and Ferelden disagree on the Inquisition's future. for the sake of her advisors, Rowena puts on her old bubbly attitude, claims the Inquisition isn't going anywhere. deep down she rattles the bars and begs Bann Teagan to demand the Inquisition be dissolved. she has one more chance to be free of this. to be someone - though she has no idea WHO anymore - outside of the Inquisitor.

and then the mark flares up. the Qunari have reached the end of their patience with the Inquisition. they dont realize how badly Rowena wants to agree with them. and then the breadcrumbs lead back to Solas. and Solas wants to end the world.

she can do nothing but break down. one more thing she'll be expected to stop. another ambiguous number of years she'll be expected to spend on it. another problem she's not qualified to solve. she's so angry and so sad and so sick of it all, and for the first time in her life she misses the stupid teenager she used to be in wycome whose most pressing issue was figuring out how to frame a templar for her petty thefts.

she doesn't remember having her arm amputated, or her advisors even coming to that decision. being without the mark feels odd, but not unpleasant. as if a nagging splinter has finally been removed from under her skin. Varric promises he'll find someone who can make her a prosthetic. she doesn't care one way or the other. at long last, what made her "special" is finally gone. the world has given her permission to close this chapter of her life for good.

Bann Teagan gets what he wants. Rowena dissolves the Inquisition. finally, at last, she can tell everyone involved to go home. she can figure out who she is. maybe she'll go to Rivain, Varric always said he heard it was lovely there. when the world collapses she'll be hundreds of miles away. maybe she'll be vaporized, maybe slow radiation-like sickness will claim her life, maybe a demon will finally best her. she doesn't really care.

and then her advisors won't let her leave. the Inquisition's dissolution was only a preventative measure, Josephine says. we can operate against Solas without risking his spies infiltrating our ranks, Cullen says. Rowena doesn't have it in her to argue anymore. she doesn't want this. she wants to be anywhere but here. she thought she was free. "okay," she says blankly instead. "that sounds like a good idea."

ten years tick by. Rowena is in her 30s now. she still has no idea what Rivain looks like. Dorian and Vivienne and Blackwall have kept in touch. the others, not so much. she hasn't heard from Cole or Iron Bull at all since they left. she doesn't try to put on that bubbly facade anymore. she's too angry and tired and bitter to bother. no one asks if she's alright anymore. they know she isn't. whatever soul searching she intended to do before won't happen now; this is who she is after all this time. a young woman with a stern brow and stress-induced grey hairs, a prosthetic arm, and no patience for small talk.

she doesn't think about that kid she was before the conclave exploded. that person might as well be a stranger. she can never go back, and there is no future where she isn't the Inquisitor. the only chapter of her life that ever really closed was the one where she thought escape was still possible.

Varric tells her he found someone called "Rook." he thinks they'll be perfect to fight back against Solas. Rowena believes him. she tells him to wish them the best of luck. but she knows she won't be able to stay out of the fray forever. and by now, she doesn't want to. her resentment has festered for a decade. Solas robbed her of her last chance to have a life as Rowena Trevelyan - not as the Inquisitor, not as the Herald, not as anything else. his plans aside, his abandonment of her aside, that robbery is the real betrayal that she could never let go of. and at this point, she never will.

[robynrileyart]

you can always tell when i'm between hyperfixations bc my art posting goes from 60 every day to 0 for WEEKS