#he and Alistair are gonna get into a Fight

[funkytownwinchester]

SPN Gif Masterlist

Parallels

Jack and Cas - "I love you. I love you all."

Sam and Dean - "I can't do this alone."

Dean - S01 vs. S12

Misc (Actors)

Jensen and Jared pose for the camera

Jensen and Jared dancing/striking poses in blooper reels

Jensen's smile

Jensen winks at the camera

Jensen laughing in bloopers - part 1

Jensen laughing in bloopers - part 2

Jared laughing in bloopers

Misha laughing in bloopers

Jared looking good

Dancing in the cage

"I've got dialogue."

Jared's social media joke

Jensen squishing Jared's arm

Jensen throws a bottle at Jared's head

Misc (Characters)

Out of context reaction images

Sam helping Dean through moments of anxiety

Dean cradling Sam's face

Dean's nicknames for Cas

Crowley poses

Dean opens Sam's beer

Cas flirts with the camera

Dean's little wiggle

Cas and Dean dancing

Smiling family

Dean fights a pillow

"Why were you praying to him?" / "'cause he's my friend."

Dean eating a powdered donut

Dean clings to Sam

Dean's knees stop working

Dean in a vest

Dean tackles Sam

Click 'keep reading' for a list of all my gifs, separated by seasons.

Season 1

S01E01 - "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."

S01E01 - Sam and Dean interview two girls in a cafe

S01E01 - Dean's boobs

S01E05 - Dean smashes the mirror terrorising Sam

S01E14 - Dean being a big brother to Sam

Season 2

S02E03 - "Lighten up, Sammy!"

S02E04 - Sam and Dean, the grief counselors

S02E09 - Dean refuses to let anyone hurt Sam

S02E10 - Ava attends therapy

S02E15 - Conjoined twins

S02E19 - Dean gets his mugshot taken

S02E19 - Dean and Sam bicker in front of Deacon

S02E20 - Dean escapes his djinn-cursed reality

S02E22 - "You're my big brother. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

Season 3

S03E03 - Sam loses his shoe

S03E06 - Dean loses it when Bella has his car towed

S03E07 - Dean gets fed on and tossed around

S03E11 - "Rise 'n' shine, Sammy!"

S03E11 - Dean asks if a bra he found is Sam's

S03E11 - Sam makes it to Wednesday for the last time

S03E14 - Dean's little eyebrow wiggle

Season 4

S04E08 - Dean says 'please'.

S04E10 - Alistair chokes Cas

Season 5

S05E03 - Cas calls Raphael a little bitch

S05E07 - Dean's happy dance

S05E08 - Son of a bitch

S05E14 - Endverse!Cas laughing at everything that pisses endverse!Dean off

S05E17 - "Don't ask stupid questions."

S05E22 - Cas, the little angel

S05E22 - Dean's not gonna let Sam die alone

Season 6

S06E03 - Dean prays to Cas

S06E11 - Bobby's suicide joke

Season 7

S07E02 - Dean talking Sam down during hallucinations

S07E09 - Dean gets drugged by a sandwich

S07E21 - Cas giggles

S07E21 - The aftermath of Cas taking on Sam's trauma

Season 8

S08E04 - "Do I really say awesome a lot?"

S08E05 - Benny bickering with Cas

S08E10 - Cas is tormented

S08E20 -Dean asks Sam to punch him

Season 9

S09E05 - Dean hopes to interrogate a canine witness using a spell that lets him speak with animals

S09E11 - Sam the guinea pig

S09E11 - "It's the bloody mark of Cain!"

S09E15 - Thinman tries to kill Dean

S09E16 - "You don't know what it's like to be human!"

S09E22 - "I got this."

S09E22 - Cas and word play

Season 10

S10E02 - Demon!Dean looking hot.

S10E05 - "I'm gonna Barbra Streisand this bitch."

S10E06 - Murphy's law

S10E08 - Dean's pretend job

S10E14 - Dean collapses on Sam's shoulder

Season 11

S11E03 - Cas collapses from the attack dog spell

S11E16 - Bobby asks if Rufus has ever been nice

S11E16 - Sam holds Dean

S11E19 - Dean teases Sam for smoking in college

S11E21 - Dean informs Sam that he's babbling

Season 12

S12E09 - Cas doesn't regret saving the Winchesters (part 1)

S12E10 - Cas doesn't regret saving the Winchesters (part 2)

Season 13

S13E08 - Someone insults Sam in front of Dean

S13E18 - Ketch cares for Dean

S13E16 - "Be like Elsa; let it go."

Season 14

S14E03 - Dean makes fun of Sam's beard.

S14E04 - Sam's messed up childhood.

Season 15

S15E01 - Dean tells a joke while cleaning Sam's wound

S15E08 - Cas being sarcastic

[queen-haq]

Fic: Grudgingly Yours (Part 8)

Fic: Grudgingly Yours (Part 8)

Summary: You are a general surgeon, working in a hospital that’s slowly sucking the life out of you when one day you’re given the offer of a lifetime.

A.K.A  - An arranged marriage fic :)

Pairing: Billy Russo x You

Rating: R

Masterlist (contains links to my other stories and this one)

You watched as Billy quickly grabbed the phone off the table before you could answer it. The flirtatious smile on his face instantly disappeared when he saw it was Calvin’s name on the display screen.

“Why is he calling you so late?”

Pitch-black eyes leveled you with accusations. “Booty call, obviously.”

His eyes lit up with anger as he withdrew from you. “You think this is a fucking joke?”

“Why are you pissed?”

“Should I be happy about your boyfriend calling?”

“You have no right to be pissed. You’ve been sleeping with god knows how many women for months-”

“Because this was never supposed to be a fucking marriage!” he yelled.

“Exactly,” you yelled back. “So don’t be a hypocrite!”

Your blood boiled with rage, and if his clenched jaw was any indication he felt the same. That only infuriated you more because he had no right – none – to get angry when he’d be the one fucking around from the very beginning. “I think you should leave,” you said.

“Not going anywhere.” He shifted off the bed and started pacing the floor.

Shirt open, hair ruffled, rage still etched on his face, you leaned back against the headboard and watched him.

He stopped suddenly, gesturing with his hand. “You need to stop seeing him.”

 “Are you gonna stop sleeping around?” you asked pointedly.

He stilled, staring at you intently. Silence ensured, as if he was contemplating your request for the first time. Unfuckingbelievable. Did he genuinely think you’d be faithful while he slept around? You threw a pillow at him-

-he caught the damn thing, snapping out of his daze. “Yeah, I will.”

“Really? Is that supposed to convince me?” you mocked. “You don’t sound too sure.”

“I’m sure,” he repeated, a lot more convincingly this time. “Look.” Approaching closer, he came to a stop next to the bed. His eyes locked with yours, filled with emotions that both thrilled and frightened you. “I’ve been a disappointment my entire life. Not ambitious, too wild, too reckless. I’ve heard it all.” He took a seat next to you. “I’m not playing that game any more. Either I’m enough or I’m not. That goes for my family. And you.”

“What does that mean?”

“There are no second chances. You fuck up, I leave. I won’t beg, I won’t plead. I’m not gonna fight for anyone who doesn’t want me."

You contemplated his words, noting the somber truth in his eyes. He meant every word, and that’s what scared you. Alistair’s threat echoed in your ears. Three years. That was the expiry date for this marriage. Nothing more than that, and you reminded yourself of that. Whatever this was between you and Billy, it couldn’t last.

“Can you deal with that?” he prodded.

Your throat felt heavy, your mind clouded. It didn’t help when he reached out to grasp your hand, his fingers lacing through yours, making it impossible for you to think coherently when he was touching you. You withdrew your hand, needing some semblance of composure.

The gesture caught his attention immediately and he leveled you with a hostile glance. “So you won’t dump the boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Fine. Fuck buddy. Whatever.”

“He’s an ex.”

“Does he know that?”

Agitated, you sat cross-legged on the bed. “It doesn’t matter. None of it does, because we don’t even know what we have. I mean…” You shook your head. “You don’t know anything about me. And I don’t know you.”

“So maybe we should get to know each other.”

Frozen, you simply watched him. A part of you suspected he probably only wanted this because he didn’t have a choice. He believed this marriage was for good and this was his way of making the best out of the situation. Stockholm syndrome. When a kidnappee fell for their captor. Isn’t that what was happening here? Before you could surmise any further, he angled closer. His forehead grazed yours, making your heart beat faster. 

“I want to know every thought that runs through this brain,” he murmured seductively, grasping the side of your face.

“Why?” Your voice quivered, breaking the composure you tried to cling to.

He didn’t answer. Instead his one arm snaked around your waist, the other fisted the back of your hair as he dragged you forward and closed his lips over yours.

There was no softness in his touch. This wasn’t a slow seduction or a tender romance. No, it was a full-on assault on your senses to make you realize every inch of you wanted him, ached for him. He devoured you with his mouth, his hands all over your body, maneuvering you under him.

You didn’t want to stop kissing him. No, you wanted to make out with him till your last dying breath because his mouth was heaven on yours. Tongue stroking tongue, lips playing with yours, insistent and making demands of you from head to toe.

“Billy…” you groaned when he dragged his mouth away for a second, enough so you could breath, but then his hands were on your breasts, squeezing them, pulling up your camisole and sinking his face into your breasts. God, he felt so good. So fucking good. And he was making you feel so good too, better than you had in a long time.

Fisting his hair, you arched up as he threw your clothes to the ground, his tongue then lapping over your nipples and teasing them into hard nubs. Oh god. You should’ve stopped him, earlier you were hellbent on not sleeping with him, but all of your reasons seemed like nothing when he was doing… this….

You couldn’t think. None of this made sense. Usually you were always in control when you were sleeping with someone. As a curvy woman, you knew what positions worked best for you and flattered you. It’s not that you were ashamed of your body – you weren’t – but you wanted to look good, feel great and not be held back by any inhibitions and all that translated to dictating full control during sex. Except all of that flew out the window with Billy. There was no time for that, not when everything between you was wild and reckless and urgent.

Under the lights, without any covers and your body on full display, he stripped you naked. Dark depth of his eyes seemed to be lost in the abyss as he stared at your pussy. Like he was memorizing every inch, etching the image into brain, before his mouth and hands started to explore your heated core.

Fuck.

He was relentless in his pursuit to drive you crazy. You lost your mind from the pleasure he was giving you, white-hot desire coursing through every vein in your body until the world was a complete blur and you were just one throbbing bundle of nerves. He knew how to fuck you with his tongue, his mouth, his hands heavy on your soft belly to hold you down.

“Please, Billy…” you begged, yearning for relief.

Every time you felt ready to fall off the edge he pulled you back, his tongue slowing down on your clit, teasing and taunting you, his beard grazing your sensitive skin and his mouth devouring you.

The incredible sensations built and built. There was only so much push and pull you could take before your body finally hurled towards climax and the world exploded.

It was an orgasm unlike anything you’d experienced before. A thousand fireworks going off in your mind, small waves of ecstasy rolling through you from head to toe. You were utterly exhausted, unable to move because your body was so sated. Covering your eyes with the back of your palm, you breathed in and out, over and over again, counting your breaths slowly. You felt him shift around you but you weren’t ready to face him. Not yet.

Not many hot guys were good in bed, probably because they never actually had to try, and even though you hadn’t slept with Billy yet his skills at eating you out was reason enough to know he’d be great. No wonder he was such a cocky asshole.

“Touch me.” Billy’s voice was a raspy growl, sounding both demanding and desperate. You opened your eyes to find him lying beside you, vulnerability etched on his face, his eyes pleading with you.

You expected arrogance, there was none. Only an aching tenderness that made butterflies flutter in your stomach. Turning to him, you moved closer until your body was flush against his side, your leg nudging up between his thighs. Eyes locked with his, you unzipped his pants and pulled out his erect cock. God he was beautiful, his dick dark and hard, slick with pre-cum while your fingers circled halfway around the width.

It was a handjob, nothing romantic – yet, holding his gaze as you worked him with your hand, every stroke strengthened the connection between you two. His soft moans were music to your ears, his tender kisses on your face a loving gesture.

You couldn’t look away even if you wanted to, and he couldn’t stop touching you like his life depended on it.

It was at that moment you could no longer deny the truth – you had real feelings for him.

***

“Did it hurt?”  Your head was tucked into the crook of his neck, his arm curved around your waist. Your fingers traced the deep gash on his chest. It was one of many deep wounds that marred his upper body.

He glanced down at the scar. “Not the worst pain I felt.”

You wanted to prod him for more but realized it would only cause him anguish to relive those memories. That’s the last thing you wanted. Instinctively you shifted down to place a soft kiss on the scar, then another one, and another, until his fingers threaded through your hair and urged you to look at him.

“You’ll end things with him?” he asked. Despite his attempt to sound casual, you heard the tension in his voice.

His words from earlier struck a chord within you. The feeling of never being enough was something you recognized all too well. “I need something from you too.”

A mischievous smirk shaped his lips. “Another round? Already addicted to my mouth, huh?”

You smacked him lightly. “Shut up.” You moved up to lie beside him, two of you facing each other now. There was a strange ache in your chest, seeing him look at you with so much emotion. No snark, no provocation, he was just watching you with naked vulnerability and it both scared and thrilled you. His finger trailed your eyebrows, the arch of your nose, your cheeks, before coming to a stop on your bottom lip.

“What is it?” he prodded.

“I meant what I said before. Don’t insult me again, okay? Don’t disrespect me. Don’t hurt me.” Your heart pounded in your chest, fear rushed through you with every word you spoke. You felt so utterly exposed with him, all of your barriers down. Nothing to protect you. “Because I’ll walk away too and I won’t look back.”

“So we’ll both run if things turn to shit?”

“Yeah.” You sighed. “Looks like it.”

He cocked his eyebrow, his fingers gently caressing the curve of your ear. “So that’s a yes? Fucker’s out of your life?”

You chuckled. He really was like a dog with a bone. “Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll tell him to stop with the booty calls.”

“He’ll be okay with that?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “We’re not exclusive. We haven’t been since college.”

His hand paused on your body. “You’ve known him for that long?”

“Half my life.”

Billy didn’t like that answer if the angry glint in his eyes was any indication. “College sweethearts?” he taunted in an acerbic tone. “Isn’t that sweet?”

You rolled your eyes. “We broke up sophomore year in college. I found out he was sleeping around.”

“He fucked around on you? Why do you still talk to him?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, poring over his words. “Because he was always a better friend than boyfriend.”

There was that stiffness in his tone again. “Or maybe you’re in love with him.”

“No, definitely not.” You shook your head.

“Then why is he still in your life? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Because he’s a friend. And I’ve lost too many people in my life already.”

He raised his head to question you. “So you won’t give him up?”

“I told you, I’ll stop sleeping with him. But that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna talk to him.” You cast him a haughty glance. “If you want someone who follows orders, that’s not me.”

It was the stillness in his voice that revealed his true fragility. “I want someone who wants me.”

You paused, trying to gather your thoughts. “I do, but I won’t change myself for anyone.” You shrugged your shoulders. “This is who I am.”

His captivating gaze pierced right through to your soul, holding you prisoner. You wished you could read his mind. Soon, however, he slid back into bed to resume his earlier position. He tried to stifle a yawn, his eyes heavy with sleep. “Who did you lose?”

“What?” You asked, still caught up in him.

“You said you lost a lot of people. Who?”

Although he seemed genuinely interested, you noted the exhaustion on his face, the way he struggled to keep his eyes open. It had been a long day for him, for you too, and neither of you were ready for an emotional upheaval. “I’ll tell you when you take me out on our first date.”

He smirked. “So that’s how it is?”

“We can talk about it tomorrow. Right now though, you need to sleep.”

He reached for your hand, linking his fingers through yours. “Promise me you’ll be here in the morning”

You smiled. “Where else would I be?”

The gentleness in his eyes wreaked havoc with your heart. “Last time you left as soon as you woke up.”

“Because you were being an ass.”

He squeezed your hand. “I’ll be nice, promise.” Closing his eyes, he scooted closer. You took the opportunity to stroke the hair on the nape of his neck. A sigh of pleasure escaped his lips. “Don’t stop… feels good…”  

Within minutes he was asleep, with your heart lurching in your chest as you watched him.

***

Next night

You swallowed the lump in your throat, refusing to give into tears. Billy’s friends cast pitiful looks at you, making you feel even more pathetic. How could you be so fucking stupid? You actually fell for Billy’s bullshit last night, despite knowing exactly who he was. And today you were paying for your stupidity.

You wouldn’t cry. No, absolutely not. He didn’t deserve your tears. He deserved nothing. Using every bit of strength you possessed, you remained silent and still as Billy walked away. Of course he wasn’t alone. Beside him was his goddamn ex, Dinah. Deep in conversation they slunk out of the reception hall, his hand on her waist, walking away without so much as a glance at you.

Fuck him.

Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him.

And fuck her.

And fuck you for thinking you meant anything to him.

He humiliated you and he hurt you. You owed him nothing.

Making up your mind, you returned to your seat alone in the reception area. Taking a deep breath, you retrieved your phone and texted Alistair.

[merrilldidnothingwrong]

So, with that Varric post circling, I’m gonna share some of my own thoughts on him. Yes, he will use people in his stories. But how those people are treated in his stories is based entirely on what he thinks of them and how much he likes them. He likes Hawke, he considers them a friend. So he’s going to give Hawke a good showing in his tales. He likes mocking and taunting Aveline, so he’s going to use her and her guards as part of his books. He knows that she’ll snarl about it, but won’t actually do anything to him for it. It’s why he’s more hesitant with Vivienne: he knows that if he pisses her off, she will do something about it.

And it’s why he treats Anders and Solas so badly, and outright attempts to write Sebastian out of the story entirely.

Varric likes adventures. He likes them because they mean wealth and great stories and funf fights and daring escapades. But he doesn’t like things changing. He wants to always be able to go back to his room at the Hanged Man, sit down with a drink, and spin a tale from his latest adventure. He doesn’t want that life to change, and he doesn’t want to examine things getting bad. He wants to be able to observe exciting events, but he doesn’t want to be involved in them.

Sebastian as a character never leaves the question of morality alone. He’s always poking at it, always pushing it. Sometimes Sebastian’s morals are wrong, sometimes they’re right. But he’s always pushing it. And that push angers Varric because he doesn’t want to admit that things are fucked, because if he did, he would have to hold himself to his standards of being a Good Person and do something about it. And he doesn’t want to.

It’s why he starts out liking Anders, but slowly grows to dislike him more and more: Anders pushes harder and harder for mage rights. Varric’s view of the mage rebellion is more negative than the qunari invasion both because it requires him to acknowledge his biases and address his morals, and because it uproots him from the life he’s happy in.

Varric wants to be able to boil everything down into stories. Specifically, stories that are straightforward, where heroes are heroic and villains are evil, but where none of it truly has any greater meaning. He wants to ignore systemic problems because those mean things changing, they mean that he can’t just sit down for drinks with a templar and a guard over some cards. - Mod Alistair

[drinkyourvillainjuice]

Just saw another IF get asked this: but what would the RO's (plus AdVenture crew🥺?) idle animations be if they were in a fighting game?

This is brilliant. Sure, let's think.

Mal: The smuggest possible idle. One hand is in their jacket pocket, the other is propping their baseball bat on their shoulder. Bounce level: minimal.

Teddie: Feet planted far apart, shoulders with an exaggerated rise and fall. A heavily en-boned arm in the forward position, fist clenched, bicep curled. Bounce level: slow and steady.

Wil: A lot of movement/shimmying - they'd wear the Ghoul costume so the ribbons/cloak would be swaying all over the place and messing with their silhouette. Palms/fingers fully spread, since y'know, they're aiming to grab you. Bounce level: high.

CG: Literally a Muay Thai ready stance. Her actual fighting style would be interesting though. Balancing directly on her opponent's strikes, anyone? Bounce level: middling.

Alistair: Looks generally alarmed to be here. One fist is tucked towards his chest, the other hand more out in front of him, palm facing down. (a 'let's not fight?' kind of gesture). Bounce level: slow and steady.

Kay: Fists raised, held close to her body. Leaning into the stance a little because she is SO ready for this. Occasional little electric crackles around her. Bounce level: EXTREME.

Shauna: Gonna be real she's the joke character. She's got her fists up but they're right up against her chin in fear, and she's shrinking to make herself look smaller. Expect lots of panicked flailing in her attacks. Bounce level: terrified.

Grant: Probably the most generic out of everyone. Fists up and a slight pep to his stance. He's smugly ready for this. Bounce level: middling.

Prii (before): Has a video camera raised close to their head. Why do you have that Prii it's going to break. Other hand is held back, but in a fist. Bounce level: minimal.

Prii (after): Slightly hunched over, heavy breathing. Claws/petals/gauntleted arms held out ahead of them aggressively. Bounce level: middling.

Beth (before): Standing ramrod straight, side on. Both fists clenched but not properly raised. Looks like she's about to serve you the meanest library ban you've ever seen. Bounce level: minimal.

Beth (after): Erratically swaying from side to side, her disc floating 'behind' her on the screen. Bounce level: wobbly.

Spoiler:

Beth (after after): Hovering just off the ground. Shield and lance held low (kind of an open-armed posture if that makes sense). Bounce level: slow and steady.

[professorsparklepants]

welcome to fanfic I won't write fridays, where I talk about fanfic I won't write

happy dragon age 4 to those who celebrate it's time to put all my "pevensie siblings isekai'd into dragon age pcs" thoughts in one post

peter is the inquisitor; i considered lucy for this but she's more what the inquisition wants you to appear to be (a divine prophet protecting the people) rather than what you actually are (the head of a military organization with fingers in politics and heavy religious propaganda

edmund is the champion of kirkwall; the entire point of da2 is that everything is in shades of grey and there are no right answers, and edmund is painted as the most familiar with moral ambiguity and the most forgiving of it

lucy is the grey warden originally through process of elimitation but being dropped in a dying world, told there's a near futile mission to hold back the decay that's eating the continent, and not only facing it whole heartedly but succeeding so well you have time to run off and try to cure it yourself with no backup is EXTREMELY lucy behavior

susan is "sir not appearing in this film (until dragon age 4 comes out)"

all four of them land around the same time. lucy gets wrapped up in the origins plot immediately, and da2 happens mostly simultaneously iirc so so is edmund. peter is biding time doing the qunari mercenary backstory until da:i starts. susan is also biding her time but by clawing her way up the local social hierarchy.

DRAGON AGE: ORIGINS

lucy is a mage with the spirit healer specialization, but based on her canon weapon use i think also has traces of the arcane warrior.

duncan literally finds her by the side of the road and goes "hey kid you wanna fight darkspawn." lucy asks if they're evil and he says yes so she signs up immediately. a simple woman.

she absolutely makes the full party her bisexual polycule. yes even the unromancable ones. i have faith in her.

morrigan: i'm straight lucy: for now.

leliana is her favorite but don't tell anyone.

lucy adores mabari. absolutely nothing in thedas is more narnian than the mabari. when she meets her siblings again they are all going to be so fucking jealous that she has one.

lucy doesn't make alistair king because he seems like he's kind of bad at it and i think she can sniff that out. my sister is of the opinion that lucy would make him king and then marry him bc she knows she would do a good job. i think she only said this because she finds it funny.

however i do think lucy would convince alistair to do the ritual because she sees absolutely nothing wrong with him having sex with a woman he hates who turns into a giant spider sometimes.

lucy, has attended dozens of bacchanalia: who hasn't slept with someone they dislike while under the effects of magic? all her companions: where did you say you were from again?

she does absolutely kill loghain though because a. all the shit he did is deserving of an execution, b. edmund isn't here to stop her, and c. alistair threatens to quit if she doesn't and despite having a mabari he's her emotional support animal

DRAGON AGE 2

i couldn't decide if edmund was a mage or a warrior but i decided it would be funnier if he were both, because it has such hawke energy. you surpress his magic? he has a sword. you disarm him? he has a fireball!

i don't know what warrior specialization i would pick for him, but he's definitely a force mage

i think edmund literally falls out of a portal and saves bethany/carver's life so the hawkes just decide to adopt him. he's theirs now. leandra just full on lies and says he's her son. what the fuck is her brother gonna do about it.

edmund walks into the den of sin and darkness that is kirkwall, sighs, and rolls up his sleeves to get to work. he is going to make this city a better place one back alley brawl at a fucking time. try him.

edmund romances anders because he has "i only date disasters/i can fix him" vibes and i think it's funny for him to be a former sovereign whose boyfriend is a wanted terrorist.

but also the da2 polycule IS real edmund is just not dating everyone at once. he's busy and also i hc him as only into men. imagine what you want though this isn't a real fic.

sorry the image of edmund just pspspspspsps-ing all of his sad, angry, morally grey companions into being friends is so fucking funny to me. local man brainwashed by evil as a child is too full of love and the belief in second chances to say no to a blood mage, guy who is willingly possessed at all times, escaped slave who lives in a mansion full of rotting corpses, a cop, and a romance novelist who keeps stealing your life story.

DRAGON AGE: INQUISITION

peter has the qunari mercenary backstory, and is absolutely a warrior build. probably champion build?

also i think he romances cassandra. i considered josephine but that's more a susan romance. if peter were into men that way he'd be all over iron bull and he says as much after a couple drinks.

peter, cornering cullen after their first war meeting: you haven no military experience do you. cullen: please don't tell anyone. i need this job.

he takes one look at solas and goes "oh this guy is not normal. idk what his deal is but this is some kind of oak god at least."

varric doesn't know edmund and peter are siblings until edmund shows up and he is INCREDIBLY offended by it. what do you MEAN i've been calling you hawke for years and it's not even your fucking name. the BETRAYAL.

edmund: my ex-boyfriend blew up the chantry and started the mage/templar war peter: HEY DORIAN, MY HONORABLE GOOD FRIEND WHO IS GAY, HAVE YOU MET MY VERY GAY BROTHER

"well his family owns slaves that's enough of a project for Edmund"

you know the table mission where the warden send you a letter? instead of that i think lucy just turns around and immediately heads back to thedas. THAT'S HER FUCKIN BROTHER!!!!!!!! she shows up after edmund does obviously for maximum "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!!!!" drama

[scene: all three pevensies are roaring drunk in skyhold and casting members of the inquisition as Narnian creatures] Peter: I think Solas is a centaur. He's wise, respectful, and vaguely condescending. Lucy: [sniggering bc she clocked Solas] I think he's a wolf. Edmund: I think he's a marshwiggle. [Peter and Lucy absolutely lose it]

Lucy, halfway through stumbling back to her room: WAIT. DORIAN IS A PEACOCK. Peter, three floors up: [ugly donkey noise]

DRAGON AGE: VEILGUARD

obviously there's nothing 2 say about this yet

however i will say for certain that if there's a noble human background i'll be giving it to susan

idc that she literally got portal fantasy'd into this world. she's pretty and socially dangerous she wormed her way in there. she's got those diplomatic social climber stats.

she's also a rogue, no question.

[void-f3lt]

1st🐍Chap: A New Roommate            Snake in a Panther’s Cage Now

.*•——————————————————————————•*.

Six months.

Six Fucking Months.

It has been six months—probably—since he’d last been back on Earth. 

Him and Loki, his younger brother, were on a plane together to go see their Father and then the plane got intercepted/fucking abducted??? by actual fucking aliens, people knew that aliens existed but they usually didn’t fuck with humans, something happened during WW3 or some shit and a very thin peace treaty was passed around, and some new laws got added to the Geneva Convention along the line of just because they ain’t human doesn’t mean they have to be experimented on.

After failing to escape stupid space jail, yes he knew it is a trafficking ship but he didn’t care. Alistair had just waited for something. Anything other than a trip to The Gladiator Ring. Though after a while he waited for that too, even got excited when it was time. Yes he is a sadist, why do you ask? It’s fucking revenge. (he knows it’s not the bastards he’s fighting fault but it’s still therapeutic) He memorized how often the guards walked by. He painstakingly counted the seconds when he realized there was an actual schedule. 

Two and a half hours of the Light Cycle and around every five hours of dark because they don’t have nocturnal Fuckers or timetable’s apparently, resulting in only two switch overs. Assuming he didn’t screw up his counting at any point. The alien wardens brought food and water. Their food smelled like this one time that he lost a muffin under his bed for about a year and it grew black mold, mixed with rat poison. So yeah, he obviously refused to eat it. 

Normally he just takes out one of his granola bars and eats half of that. He’s down to twenty-four so far and he eats one every three Day cycles so he’ll last about (*Math Later*).

There was that one time when an alarm had gone off for some reason. That had been somewhat interesting and fucking hurt. His dragon roommate didn’t seem as bothered, behaving how Alistair probably would at a fire alarm back home. But to him? It was unbearable. It drove him to tears and he ultimately passed out. It hadn’t happened again, yet. He guessed it was either a false alarm or a breach somewhere else on the ship. That would also confirm that there were other floors with prisoners. 

He tried to find a way out, looking for loose bars and checking out the locks but he genuinely couldn’t figure those the fuck out(he really should have been taking notes whenever Father went on one of his engineering rant) and when he first tried to he could barely get a grip on the bars due to the stupid electric force field science fiction bullshit. Yes earth, and human settlements almost everywhere, has similar tech but he’s still gonna call sci-fi bullshit ‘cause it is.

Eventually, his captors figured out he wouldn’t eat the rat poison, and they brought something else. A lot of something else, actually. He avoided what didn’t smell or taste right, hoping for the best of the things he did eat. Raw, yellow meat? Questionable. Some kind of pink and orange slugs? Absolutely not. The plant lookin’ things that were probably fruit were fine. He liked the almost carrot. And they had jerky. The rest he gave to his dragon roommate as a peace offering. 

At one point, some of the wardens came in, like they usually do, only this time they tried to take the alien dragon. When the dragon started struggling, Ailstair decided that helping them might earn him some kind of favor with it. (Definitely not because he grew attached to them and feared for their safety) So he attacked the guard that had tried to keep him back. 

And bit the Bastard arm off. 

Aliens are… really fucking squishy. Their taser baton things didn’t really phase him, but it killed a Guard whenever he snatched it and used it against them. As it fell, its arm tore off. Inside of his mouth. It was disgusting. It tasted disgusting. He knew the fuckers were fragile, he once just lightly stepped on one that he knocked to the floor—didn’t even jump on the fucker— and snapped its rips but still, That was a lot.

They didn’t open the cell door anymore after that. Food and water were delivered through the little slit under the door, pushed by sticks. He tried to grab the sticks but they pulled back as soon as he started to approach. It was starting to piss him off. Maybe next time he’ll take more than an arm. 

Currently he’s just sitting in said cage with his dragonborn frien-Roommate staring at the ceiling after his newest escape attempt. Seriously, these fucker’s are so dumb. Thinking that watching him from all angles will make it any harder for him to escape. News flash, it won't stop him from trying as he’s tried four times by now, and almost succeeded 2 & 1/2 of those times(the half is cause he killed a fucker then took a hit to the bottom of his spine which kinda scared him and his dragon). 

He trying his very best to ignore all the chatter around him. Just because he can technically make them shut up doesn't mean he wants to let them know he can understand them. He normally takes the thin but still metal food trays, that they give him everyday, bend and snap and sharpen into shanks during when he’s bored but he ran out. He’s pretty sure they either can’t figure out what he’s doing or know what he’s doing and are to surprised to realize it’s a threat and try and take them away. And if they try and do that they’d have to pry them out of his cold, dead hands.

Alistair is getting real off track with his thought process tonight but what else is he supposed to do? It’s in the middle of the Night and nothing ever hap- oh wait, never mind something’s happening maybe they’re probably just gonna take him to The Gladiator Ring I swear to god if I have to fight another IRL nomu from MHA, I will go for the crowd next time. But he can hear a Fucker carrying something… no someone? large?? alien, with the way they're yelling at another Fucker. 

“You are such a hujari axten! Just lift the hujari thing for once you DRIDE!!!” Fucker One said. “Look, I told you with the other one. I. Can’t. Touch. It.” Fucker Two responded with exasperation. “The dride is three times lighter than you would think, but still hujari huge and heavy and one the most violent and capable of this species we’ve taken alive!!” Fucker One yelled.

“Oh well I’m oh so sorry, that only me and you are walking around doing quiores right now. If only we could take one of the other guards that are on patrol just to lift this thing to a cell, when it is obviously easy for you to lift… you are just krefftin lazy and want to go back to sleep, well guess what ya’ blasted axten SO DO I BUT SOMEONE HAS TO BE WITH YOU JUST IN CASE SOMETHING KREFFTIN HAPPENS YOU AXTEN’VERN!!”

Alistair was kinda shocked that they were just casually arguing while dragging someone to a cell where they will either be killed, experimented on, or put into The Gladiator Ring, or even just to sell the poor souls to the highest bidder. He wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t uncommon to see other aliens that just sell others cause, y’know, Money. Alistair is preeetty sure Father is either a cannibal or just sells human organs.. or both.

As he glares at the cage door with a new found hate. He doesn't mind the others in the cell block because they're in their own cages but he absolutely hates sharing his personal space. (Loki and his dragon are entirely different stories thank you very fucking much) While most of the other poor souls are asleep or close to, he must stay awake, his paranoia demands it what if they put.. whatever/whoever the hell, in his cage. 

He waits as the arguing gets closer and closer, louder and louder, more annoying by the second because the other Fucker should just help the other other Fucker because it will get the work done faster. 

He’s very glad that he is already used to very low light levels he and Loki both hate having the light on in their rooms, everyone (including themselves) are very confused by how well Loki’s eyesight actually is. His eyesight is also a whole ‘nother miracle and a half ‘cause both his mother and Father have reading glasses. After what felt like way too long they finally make it in the cell block. And stop right in front of his cell, Lovely. Alistair glares at them, bringing in another poor soul into this shit-hole, how many have they done this too. 

(Oh my gawd, why do I caaarreeerrhhr) 

Alistair just watches as they open his cage, if this was a good time he would use his new knifes to stab these dumbasses in their dick-equivalent so he could escape. IF it was a good time but Alistair still doesn't know where Loki is being held and his dragon roommate is both seven fuckin’ feet tall and asleep curled into a ball a couple feet away from the wall in front of him, doing something like that now would also be a death sentence cause off how many Fuckers he maimed. 

It seemed they finally stopped yelling at each other, probably trying to restrict the information they might let slip in front of him. Both of them looked at each other for a second, having some seyelent conversation.

And then in quick succession, Fucker one turns off the electricity, opens the cage, as Fucker two throws the body bag as hard as they can, and when he says as hard as they can, this is a being getting tossed so hard they hit the back of the cell. 

He hopes that didn't electrify whatever or whoever was in the bag. Then as soon as whatever is in the bag left the guards arms, the cage closes and the electricity gets turned back on. Poor bastard might be dead with a hit against the bars like that. The back bars were still electrified so that just added moredamage. Alistair wanted to keep glaring at the guards as they walked away but he couldn’t, this Stupidly lowng bitch in a bag(might be a snake or ferret.. why was That the second option)may not be dead. He flicks his glare back and forth between the Fucks and bag but ultimately picks the bag. 

Alistair slowly makes his way over to the bag and hears some chuckling from the Fuckers at the door. He doesn't care about them right now, he needs to make sure what ever is in the bag is 1) dead or not 2) if it’s sentient, prey or predator so he can either make it afraid of him or take his chances with the bars 3) if sentient and not hurt to bad, can they be useful.

He’s getting closer to the bag when he finally notices it’s moving a little bit. He tries to get a little closer again but stops at the sound it made. It sounded like a growl from a demonic lion that is half reformed from being blended in a blender about to claw its way out of hell, might be from the pain, might be because it’s stuck in a bag, or it’s sensing him and telling him to back up. 

Whatever it is (probably) can’t see him so, it shouldn’t end up as badly, he’ll just be even more careful. Dragon(who woke up when they heard the loud crash and clang, apparently) whispered at him to “Do not go and open that fucking bag.” He’s so glad he actually know common so he doesn’t have to guess what the curse words are. Ignoring his concerned frRoommate and moving as slowly as he can, Alistair gets right beside the cursed creature in the bag. It’s moving a bit more and making more, demonic clearing throat noises, but he has deducted that it must just be waking up, surprised that it’s hurt, and/or pissed. 

He stares at whatever this thing is, pocketknife in hand ‘cause those shanks are not thick nor sharp enough(yet) to cut through the bag. He runs different ways he could get killed doing this in his head and decides that whatever it is, it would be more upset if it was still stuck in a bag, better to make sure he’s the one to get it out. Alistair was about to raise his pocketknife to cut through the bag but jumped back as the bag started thrashing back. 

Absolutely not, safety first! He thought as he backtracked to his claimed corner, Dragon looking him like ‘I told you so’ and looking at the bag like it was going to eat them, the thing would probably kill him the moment it saw him going by the fact that it sounds like The Horrors and is like fifteen feet longso. Alistair eyes zero in on the bag and is amazed by how much it’s thrashing around in that thing. But it stopped thrashing almost as fast as started and he thinks he can see little impression of cat/maybe dog ears.

It’s quite around them besides the huffing breaths, growls and the untranslated probable curse words he can hear from the bag. Everyone is just staring at them now.

Alistair watches to see what it might do, does it have claws or something to cut the ba- Why is it gripping where the knot is? They usually don’t do that! Others in the past, either claw their way out or someone else cuts through the bag, either way no one goes for the knot.

He watches as the top of the bag that is tied off gets pulled into itself a bit. It’s confusing trying to figure out what this thing is doing. Does it think it can somehow bring the knot into the inside of the bag and untie it or? If it somehow, by a sheer miracle, gets it fully through the bag…. What will it do now? 

Alistair watched in silence, honesty amazed, horror as the now untied knot got tossed out and then the bag opened up. “Finally,” was said followed by more probable very creative insults directed at the Fuckers given their faces. He waits slowly breathing in the forgotten breaths for when it will leave the bag, he hasn’t known any sentient race that can do that. 

His eyes track the…. 

Hand? 

I mean it’s furry and has built in claws, but still, HAND???

Slowly exiting the bag first, It has long almost metallic black claws and the hand looks to be short charcoal black but dense fur, from wrist to a little below the elbow the fur seams to be compacted down. (And a little glittery as he reflects on later) The other hand reaches around a little as the opening of the bag opens to let themself through better. The guards at the door froze in fear as the creature’s eyes stared down into their souls, then it pounced.

[lumilasi]

Final character for the antagonist group for Starknight tag. I still need to make his Deity-like Soul eater form (that the head is a preview of) but since it's gonna have a specific, more detailed style I'm gonna draw it in, I figured I might as well post these already and then I'll add it later/post it as a separate piece.

His looks is fairly simple in human form, given the flashier part will be the Deity form. Also I guess this reveals Amaros' former hair color (he's now bald) and where Azul's blue hair comes from - his mum not dad.

Info below:

Name: Sam (Full name Samar Amaros)

Age: Old. but he roughly appears as someone around their forties.

Height: 180 cm

A Mysterious Soul Eater who is actually a Half-Deity, due to being the brother of the Soul Eater King & the first ever Soul eater created.

Role: One of the antagonists for the Sterling family, often behind whatever chaos they are trying to solve. Later the main antagonist once he gets his memory back.

'Love interest': There's some sexual tension between him and Cornel, that the latter tends to take advantage of occasionally to mess with him.

Comrades:  Vincent DeVos (A plaque demon) Cornel Sala(An Ether born vampire) His boss Camilla Barone (Human mobster)

Rival: His brother Shaell & Shaell's son Azul/Chester

Powers:

Soul manipulation: Like all Soul eaters he can study, track, manipulate and devour souls, but on top of those things he can ALSO full on destroy them from existence, something S.E can't typically do. (Devouring doesn't destroy the soul, it just eventually moves it forward in life-cycle once the soul eater dies)

Immortality: being a Deity essentially, he does not age from the moment he was turned, and doesn't get sick either. He is also incredibly difficult to damage, and his injuries heal almost completely very fast majority of the time

Swordsmanship: he is an excellent swordsman, capable of summoning a blade reminescent of the one his brother carries.

Immense physical strength: This guy, while he doesn't look like much, is incredibly durable to the point human weapons don't do shit to him, and he can break people's bones with ease or tear off their limbs. (He is insanely strong even by Ether standards)

Soul Eater form: his form is far more powerful than any other Soul Eater in existence (with the exception of his distant descendant, Jurou Alistair Blackthorne who has the unique ability to even affect the souls of Deities like Samar and Shaell) and this form is basically a Deity rather than a mortal, where his strength grows tenfold from what it already is by default.

Weaknesses:

Due to his injuries from the previous battle against Shaell, his strange scar is often aching where he struggles to move that side arm and shoulder. It also constantly bleeds energy when in his Deity form, and is a weak spot to strike in a fight.

He is not the best at handling people being attracted to him, and tends to get flustered by it easily.

His desire for vengeance has somewhat blinded him for the actual harm his crusade could cause, and sadly his stint without his memory didn't help soften his position and give him important perspective he needs, resulting in him eventually going back to his old ways of trying to hunt down and kill his brother. (Basically, this guy is stubborn to a major fault when he's angry)

Personality:

He is mostly seen as very quiet and calm individual, who seems to be the one helping to keep Camilla's more eccentric duo of mythical subordinates in check. He has somewhat of a parental side to him he often aims at her and Vincent/Vee especially, and is most likely to check and make sure everyone is alright.

While he seems calm, if you know how to push his buttons (like Cornel) he can be very easily angered and pulled into a loud debate or even a fight. He is also notoriously stubborn once he's made a decision, and it can be hard to persuade him to change his mind.

He is somebody who tends to care about people he's close with intensely, which in part resulted to his burning hatred for his brother after being made to think Shaell killed his own family, even if accidental. (This turns out not to be even fully true; his sons survived and were simply thrown forward in time) It also manifests with his high protectiveness over Camilla.

BG Story

Samar is the older brother of Shaell Amaros and former Soulcaster-turned-Soul Eater. He used to have close and good relationship with his sibling and his sibling's wife, even babysitting their older son occasionally. Things changed however when Shaell, in an attempt to save his newborn son's life AND find a way to end the massive war going on at the time, performed a forbidden ritual he'd been studying, and seemingly ended up killing both his wife and children in the process. This ritual also turned Samar into a Soul eater against his will.

grief stricken and driven mad with anger, Samar attempted to kill his brother, but at the time was far too weak given he was not the one directly involved in the ritual. He then spent eons trying to discover where his brother had gone after the war, clashing with him and losing the fight each time. Shaell, unable to get through to him, eventually decided to just erase his memory and send him to the human realm, hoping that would finally calm him down enough so he could see reason again.

Samar was taken in by the Barone family after witnessing his strength, and he has been working for them for a long time now, not remembering anything about his past apart from his name being "Sam" or something akin to it. However, as a young Shadowcaster Chester Knight starts digging into his past and thus has run-ins with them, his memory ends up eventually coming back....

FUN FACTS

Samar is bi

He tends to get annoyed when people imply he sleeps with Camilla (because he sees her like a honorary niece)

Cornel and him bicker constantly about how to approach situations, but while it seems they can't stand each other, there is a level of mutual respect between the two, and both are equally protective of their boss Camilla

Samar is very parenty with Vee, and also feels sympathetic for his unrequited love, though he can also tell exactly why he was rejected...

He does find it a bit annoying that Cornel is taller than him, then again Cornel is very good at pissing him off no matter what. (and he ALSO finds it annoying he's attracted to the vampire without him even needing to use his charm powers)

His scar from the battle against his brother glows white when he uses his powers, both in human and Deity form.

When it is revealed that "Chester Knight" and his brother Reuben are his nephews, he refuses to believe it at first, thinking it is another ploy his brother is pulling to try to get him off his back.

The main reason why him killing Shaell is a major bad thing, is because that would essentially strip every single Soul Eater in existence from their power as well - and would in many cases kill the person. Samar is not aware of this, and initially doesn't believe this claim either when confronted about it.

Eventually his nephews do get through to him though, and after that final major fight with Shaell, he disappears for a while in shame of his actions.

[foxyanon]

In Blighted Lands Teaser

A teaser because I started writing this and realized its gonna end up being multiple parts because I have a problem apparently 💀

This is gonna be NICHE as fuck, but I will try to explain what I can. This is a Grey Warden!Sihtric x Avvar Mage!Aesira fic, set during the Blight in Fereldan.

Sihtric had initially joined up with the Grey Wardens to escape the cruelty of his father and half brother, but he didn’t anticipate the absolute chaos he was going to be walking into when he got to Ostagar. The entirety of the Fereldan Army was here, preparing for one hell of a fight. Duncan, the man who recruited him out of Denerim, hadn’t said much to him on the journey here about what to expect, just that everything would be explained in time. No sooner than they made it to the bridge that connected both sides of the ruined fortress, they were approached by King Cailan and talked to the man as if they were old friends. By the time he finally recovered from the rather odd conversation with the King, he was being sent off on a mission to find the two other recruits and a junior warden named Alistair.

The two other recruits were something, Daveth didn’t seem like the trustworthy sort and Jory was a fool who joined up and left his wife at home with their newborn. Alistair was at least funny, considering he seemed to enjoy ruffling the feathers of the mage he was talking to. Alistair joined him on his exploration of the camp, the two of them agreeing to help the kennel master with the sick mabari pup by finding some flower for him in the wilds. After talking with Duncan again, the four men were sent off to the Kocari Wilds to complete a couple tasks which included getting several vials of darkspawn blood and finding an old warden cache amidst the ruins of an old Grey Warden Outpost.

They fought those frankly terrifying creatures, the stench of their tainted blood and rotting corpses burning his nose and making him gag a little. Jory, despite being a warrior, was acting like a child about the whole situation while Daveth looked as though he was likely to flee despite acting tough. The only one not being aggravating was Alistair, but he looked just as fed up with the other two. A sort of brotherly kinship formed between them, a whole silent conversation shared between looks whenever the men complained about whatever minor thing. Naturally, they got lost in the swamp, so what should’ve been a moderately quick mission was quickly turning into an all day excursion that had all four men hot, sweaty and aggravated.

[nanowatzophina]

OC Questionnaire! (Warden Edition as well)

Thanks to @dungeons-and-dragon-age for tagging me! I'm gonna do my Wardens as well since... like her, I don't wanna go on too long and... I really would go on too long if I did anything besides my wardens...

Even with just my wardens it's going to go for a while... so I apologize

This is my second time typing this all out-- so bear with me...

NAME: Rosal Surana

NICKNAME: Rose/Rosie? Not a lot of people actually use nicknames for her but those are an option.

GENDER: Female (she/they)

STAR SIGN: ((I don't know enough about Star Signs or Tarot cards so-- I'm just not going to answer these ones)

HEIGHT: Average for an elf

ORIENTATION: Biromantic Asexual

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Ferelden! Born in Denerim to be specific but her mother was a Dalish elf.

FAVORITE FRUIT: Peaches

FAVORITE SEASON: Fall! When the air becomes crisp.

FAVORITE FLOWER: Lilies and Lilacs

FAVORITE SCENT: Floral scents remind her of her mother, Firewood, Old parchment, new books, charcoal

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Hot Chocolate or Chai with honey

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: Depends on if she has a new book she's trying to read... But usually like... 5? 5 hours sounds right...

DOGS OR CATS: Both!

DREAM TRIP: A historical trip around different places she's read about!

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: One really thick and fuzzy one.

RANDOM FACT: She can not do healing magic to save her life and yet that won't stop her from trying. That's how she got those scars, trying to heal herself in the fight going up the Tower of Ishal but just making it scar over really badly. But hey, at least it stopped bleeding.

NAME: Lannaris Mahariel

NICKNAME: Lan or Lanna

GENDER: Female (she/her)

HEIGHT: On the shorter side for an elf which makes her pretty short compared to humans.

ORIENTATION: Gay. Lesbian. Women.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Dalish!

FAVORITE FRUIT: Plums or Blackberries

FAVORITE SEASON: Spring or Summer (before it gets to hot)

FAVORITE FLOWER: Geranium

FAVORITE SCENT: Woodsy, right after rain,

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Herbal tea

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 6. Schedules are important to her.

DOGS OR CATS: Cats, she's actually scared of dogs (which is why she never went to the kennel in Ostagar's camp)

DREAM TRIP: The Arbor Wilds, just to see the trees...

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: 1-2

RANDOM FACT: Her dream house would be a really cool treehouse. She'd love to live there with Leliana 3 cats and 6 nugs far away from other people... Just them and the forest.

NAME: Fen'nas Mahariel

NICKNAME: Fen!

GENDER: Male (he/they)

HEIGHT: Tall for an elf, around Morrigan's height

ORIENTATION: Bisexual

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Dalish! Was born in the Hinterlands

FAVORITE FRUIT: Berries! Favorite is probably blueberries or raspberries.

FAVORITE SEASON: Spring! He loves the flowers

FAVORITE FLOWER: He loves them all! Though loves Honeysuckle.

FAVORITE SCENT: Floral, Cedar and stronger scented herbs like rosemary and basil.

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Chai for sure.

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: You guys count? (probably like... 8-9, honestly he probably sleeps in a lot later than he should and stays up later than he should too)

DOGS OR CATS: Either! Doesn't have too much of opinion.

DREAM TRIP: Anywhere with Morrigan <3

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: 1

RANDOM FACT: He loves halla. He was really hoping that he'd one day get to be a caretaker for them. He loved to feed them and brush them whenever he wasn't off hunting or patrolling for the clan.

NAME: Alana Cousland

NICKNAME: Pup (her father is the only one allowed to call her that though) Rose (Alistair only)

GENDER: Female (she/her)

HEIGHT: Average?

ORIENTATION: Demi

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Ferelden!

FAVORITE FRUIT: Oranges and Pears (not together... just... depending on her mood??? or what's in season?)

FAVORITE SEASON: Summer

FAVORITE FLOWER: Doesn't think much of flowers, honestly.

FAVORITE SCENT: Stables and gardens. Which I guess is to say manure but that doesn't sound like a good scent even though that's what it is... Earthy smells like that.

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Coffee... with a lot of sugar and cream.

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 6

DOGS OR CATS: Dogs. 100% Man's best friend.

DREAM TRIP: Adventure off somewhere, anywhere. It doesn't matter... just away from Ferelden.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: 3-4

RANDOM FACT: She would actively scare away suitors, much to her Mother's chagrin... She would be purposefully blunt and rude in social situations and tease people relentlessly until they left her alone. She used to see being married off as the most torturous future possible. She also dislikes dresses. And probably wears pants around the castle to everyone's horror.

NAME: Solan Aeducan

NICKNAME: Sol, Nug

GENDER: Female (they/she)

HEIGHT: Short? Considering she's a dwarf? But probably a normal height for them.

ORIENTATION: LESBIAN.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Orzammarian

FAVORITE FRUIT: Strawberries

FAVORITE SEASON: Any of them but Winter. She HATES the cold.

FAVORITE FLOWER: Orchid, though she's come to love most flowers, she didn't know there was quite so many of them just growing everywhere you looked.

FAVORITE SCENT: Steel, Fire, the smell of home, but also the smell of a clear night, and the expensive perfumes Leliana wears

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Coffee. Black.

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 5 but she doesn't need that much.

DOGS OR CATS: Dogs

DREAM TRIP: The Deep Roads, she always dreamed of going deep and finding a new Thaig, finding long forgotten treasures and gold and being an adventurer finding lost places down in the deep.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: All of them. Why is it so sodding cold on the surface??

RANDOM FACT: She loves the stars. It took a little bit to adjust but the stars were likely the first things she found truly beautiful about the surface after being cast out of her home. She loves finding constellations and learning the stories of them. She feels more connected to them than she ever did the Stone, though she would never admit it... except to Leli

NAME: Iris Tabris

NICKNAME: Petal, Little Flower

GENDER: Female (she/her) ((look at all this variety I have right?))

HEIGHT: Tall for an elf, average for a human

ORIENTATION: Asexual

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Ferelden Alienage elf!

FAVORITE FRUIT: Grapes, sweet ones

FAVORITE SEASON: Spring

FAVORITE FLOWER: Iris, it was her mother's favorite, which is why she was named after it.

FAVORITE SCENT: Floral scents, smell of fresh baked bread, cinnamon

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Hot Chocolate with lots of whipped cream

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 7-8. Sleep is important.

DOGS OR CATS: Cats, generally dislikes dogs though her mabari hound is a very strong exception.

DREAM TRIP: To big cities in other countries, like in Orlais or Antiva... She would love to see what their architecture looks like.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: 1, but only if it's very soft.

RANDOM FACT: Iris is really sensitive to textures and physical touch. It makes finding outfits a little difficult for her, considering Ferelden (probably) doesn't have a lot of great options in the way of textures, but because of that she got pretty good at making alterations to outfits. She is generally touch averse, though with permission, which Alistair is sure to always ask for, she's usually fine.

-----

blank meme:

NAME:

NICKNAME:

GENDER:

STAR SIGN: 

HEIGHT:

ORIENTATION:

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY:

FAVORITE FRUIT:

FAVORITE SEASON:

FAVORITE FLOWER:

FAVORITE SCENT:

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE:

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP:

DOGS OR CATS:

DREAM TRIP:

NUMBER OF BLANKETS:

RANDOM FACT:

[motherofmabari]

So I've always been a fan of the headcanon that a Warden Hawke sibling would show up in Inquisition as Hawke's Warden friend instead of Alistair, Loghain, or Stroud. It just makes sense. It even plays into why they haven't succumbed to Coryphyfish's false calling - they were in Kirkwall, they have experience with red lyrium, they have potentially already met Corydoras. There's something strange about this Calling, something familiar, and they are uniquely positioned to resist. I love it, wish we got it in game, and in my headcanon it's what goes down.

I just had a thought though, about how this would play out with my girl, Gemma. How does Carver react, hearing from his sister that she's with the Inquisition? Hearing that she left Fenris behind? Carver knows his sister, he knows she's blaming herself for Corinthians, knows the guilt she carries for Malcolm, Bethany, Leandra, and Kirkwall. He knows she's not going into this planning to protect herself. He knows that she thinks she deserves to die, that everyone would have been better off if it had been her instead of Bethany all those years ago. He knows she left Fenris behind because she thinks she's going to her death, and Carver refuses to let that happen.

What if, before making for Crestwood, Carver went looking for Fenris? What if he told Fenris exactly where she was, and they traveled to Crestwood together?

Imagine Hawke walking into the cave, and finding Fenris waiting for her. The pain, the angst, at this point she's closer to succumbing to Despair than she's been since Leandra's death. She's terrified and certain she's going to get him killed. He's furious and heartbroken and betrayed, she left him behind and took the choice to follow her away from him, after all that time spent making sure he always had a choice. She was ready to die without him, to let him live with not having been there to fight for her. Imagine the relief they each feel just laying eyes on the other, finally able to see that despite everything, they're both still here.

I'm gonna chew on this for awhile, I think.

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

Ed prompts!!😌🔥🔥I come a-begging for some of your Warden gorl please: 'the taste of stolen apples' from the childhood prompts

Gonna go ahead and answer this LOVELY prompt as well as @kiastirling 's prompt for "Come on, I want to show you something." :333 Its been so long since I've written my beloved Tabris, Shaesa and it felt so good to write for her again (as you could probably tell by the 1.5k word count- jeez, I rarely write that much in a week or two XD) I hope y'all enjoy a little peak at my Warden <3

for @dadrunkwriting

Rated T: For very slight innuendo?, ~1.5k words

The Taste of Stolen Apples | By Exalted_Dawn

The air was thick with the taste of smog and wet earth; puddles on cobblestones, cart tracks through mud, and the smoke of a thousand different cook stoves mingling between every inhale. Shaesa’s throat was raw as she ran, and that thick, city air blanketed her lungs, making it even harder to breathe than it already was. Behind her, she could hear the thundering of feet and warning calls– a sound as familiar to her as it was nostalgic. Nostalgic, save for the new addition of frantic footsteps beside her. Another set of lungs fighting for breath. 

“Tell me again why we had to steal them?!” 

Alistair's hand stayed clutched in hers, tight to the point that she could feel his calluses through her gloves. Two apples stayed cradled tightly against her chest in the other, their skins a beautiful and brilliant dappled red that blossomed like flowers against Denerim’s more ubiquitous beige, brown, and greys. 

“Shush! C’mon, I want to show you something,” she answered, not really answering at all as she pulled him down a side alley. They ran. Over boxes, around carts, through several clothes lines. They ran until Shaesa could no longer hear the shouts of the guards at their backs, threatening beatings and bars. All these years, and they still hadn’t come up with anything new. It was almost comforting. 

She turned down a side street, plunging into the shadow of two buildings built a little too close– a arm’s span of feet between both walls and crowded with small balconies and scaffolds erected for drafts that will never be fully patched. It was like diving into a warm hug for Shaesa; her special, secret place, where the world fell away for a while. “This way,” she laughed, pulling on Alistair’s arm a bit too hard in her haste.

“Ow! Hey, it’s not as though everyone can squeeze through these tiny spaces. Slow down for us taller folk,” he grumbled, face twisted in an adorable scowl as he puzzled how to get his leg through a gap in the wooden beams. 

A bit of teasing and two minutes of thoughtful maneuvering later, and finally they stumbled out onto a small stairwell that led from the ground up to a third floor window. Across from that, a windowsill strong enough to hold their weight as Shaesa stepped onto it and scrambled up onto the rooftop, Alistair following close behind. As he puffed and struggled to pull himself over the eaves, she took the time to inspect their prizes. Two palm-sized apples, still perfectly pearly and unbruised. Better than she could have hoped, and much better than a majority of the apples she’d stolen before now. 

Shaesa pocketed them into her pouch before turning to help Alistair the rest of the way up, her feet scraping against red shingles worn brown as she fought the weight of him. It took her two good tugs and one hearty curse to the Maker, but the both of them tumbled back some as Alistair finally came to rest beside her on the tilted slope of Denerim’s rooftops. 

Bodies pressed close for balance, each with their chests heaving fast, they probably made quite the picture, but before she could help herself, Shaesa erupted into a fit of full-bellied giggles. “Not bad for your first chase.” 

“I’ll have you know that that wasn’t my first chase,” he responded, jabbing her in the stomach. “I once stole a half wheel of cheddar from the local cheesemaker when I was ten, and his wife pursued me through the streets of Redcliffe with a butcher's knife before giving up.”

Shaesa snickered. “Oohhhhh, very impressive.”

“You know,” he said, jabbing her in the cheek with a finger. “I don’t appreciate your tone. I could have gone without the spontaneous theft today. We had the coin to pay for those.”

“Yes, but why pay when it tastes so much better stolen?” She reached up to grab his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm, and then onto her toes to press another to his lips. “But I’m sorry– I promise I will not pull you into another heist without your prior permission okay? It was only for just this once.”

Alistair looked like he wanted to argue, but a moment turned into two, and the fight deflated in him, replaced by tender relent. He leaned in to kiss her back, slow and sure, before pulling away with a slight huff. “Just this once, then. Now-” He turned his gaze over his shoulder, out across the sea of shingled valleys and timber ridges. A hundred roofs for their seeing. “Are you going to finally explain to me why we’re up here?” 

“Yes.” She held out a hand for him to take and pulled him along, following the slope before jumping over onto an overlapping roof, this one a bit flatter. They walked for a small while, navigating a couple more peaks until finally she reached her spot– a lopsided slant roof that sat on top of a book maker's store. From here, they could see a majority of Denerim’s markets, all alive with bustle and business. Calls for sales and new shipments echoed up from the square even at this distance, but it was far enough to make for comfortable blank noise. Sitting, she patted the roof beside her and pulled out both apples. “I used to come here with my cousin all the time as a child. Me and Shianni would steal apples from the local grocer when we didn’t have enough money for meals, and then would come here to eat them.” 

She didn’t look at Alistair as she passed him the apple. Instead, her eyes remained fondly placed, looking out beyond the silhouette of Denerim’s castle, chasing the shapes of clouds against the grey sky. 

Sheasa breathed in the air again– the cold and the wet. She smiled. “...It feels good to remember, sometimes.”

Wooden beams creaked in protest as Alistair finally settled, his overly long legs folding in front of him. Even without looking directly at him, she could see the somberness from the corner of her eyes. He was all sloped shoulders and mopey frowns. The apple she had given him turned endlessly in his hand.

It was weird for him to be so quiet.

“What?” she asked, already knowing.

“I just realized that you don’t talk about your past much. Or, at least you haven’t, before now that is.”

Her feet flexed once. The apple in her hand also turned. “Yeah, I know.” 

Somewhere beneath them, a dog had found an alley cat to bother, the sound of their clash echoing up to their little hiding place. Another familiar noise. It felt like a hundred years had passed since Ostagar. She’d almost forgotten this place and its smells. Its noises. 

She looked down to her apple, and idly traced the freckles that dotted its waxy skin. “I always thought that apples tasted the best from up here. Me and Shianni would eat and laugh at all the shems who tried to chase us. They always tried, but never once were we caught. Up on this roof, we were untouchable.” The one place where they could look down on the world for a while, and not the other way around. Odd to think that she was saving it, now. “The Landsmeet is in two weeks. I guess I just…. thought it might be nice to come here again.” She peeked back up at him, and added, “I also wanted to share it with you.” 

This part of her. The past. A couple of stolen apples. And anything the future had to offer. She didn’t say it enough. 

She reached for Alistair’s hand and he reached back, threading their fingers with a squeeze before, with a sudden tug, he pulled her against his side. She collapsed against him, half-squawking as she fumbled her apple and grabbed it again. No way she was going to settle for a bruised fruit after all of this. 

Like a distant summer storm, Alistair’s sides began to rumble with laughter. Warm and deep and wonderful. The only other place where she felt on top of the world. “Careful,” he clucked, taking a bite from his own apple with an audible ‘crunch’. 

Unbidden, a true grin returned to her lips. “You’re such an ass.”

“Yes, but I have it on good authority that you at least think I’m a nice ass.” The corners of a smug sort of smile peaked out from behind his upraised hand. “Or was it that I have a nice ass?”

Maker. “Both,” she conceded with a laugh.

“Well then, I think I can live with that.” He stole another bite, juice wetting his stubble. This time, he hummed in contemplation, chewing slowly before swallowing. “I do have to admit, this is a pretty good apple.” 

“Best grocer in the market,” she chimed back, proud with her pick. Without wasting another moment– she didn’t want to chance Alistair pulling something again that might result in a very unfortunate fruit casualty– she brought her own prize to her lips and bit in. Its taste flooded her mouth, tart and sweet mixing on her tongue. It tasted like simpler times; laughter on rooftops and market days and rain puddles. 

It tasted like sitting on top of the world, if only for a moment. 

She grinned wide. ‘But Maker, I missed this.”

[bloomstruck]

How I Would Fare in Fighting Against the Cast of IAPTBAP

the title folks. i'm over-confident and i'm sure my fiance is gonna see this like "you can't fight at all" but i once downed a man in a parking lot and i will keep up that energy did this in order of appearance (mostly)

MC — Now why tf would I wanna fight the baddest bitch there is? Before Beau's tale, I might be able to win. Afterwards, she'd probably win. But it's okay, I'm not gonna fight her anyways. WINNER: No one

Aurelio — I would win 100%. I don't have really any reasoning, just that I'm confident. The issue here is, again, I wouldn't want to fight him. Too precious. WINNER: Me

Winter White — He tried to pick MC up and couldn't handle her weight lmao he's kinda weak. I also have weak arms but I have really strong leg muscles and flexibility to kick him in the face. He's my fave but irl I would want to fight him. So creepy. WINNER: Me

Eli — I think he's too nice to beat me up without a really good reason. With that said, if I picked a fight with him, I wouldn't win. He's really nice though so I don't want to pick a fight with him. He's had it rough, why would I add onto that 😭 WINNER: Eli?

Arien — This... Is hard. Technically, Arien bests me in physical strength. He would totally end me if he wasn't a lil' bitchbaby. He's also masochistic so I'm afraid he'd let me get a couple hits in and then I wouldn't want to fight and I'd run away crying. With that said, I really don't like Arien... But is it worth it? Is it worth it? WINNER: . . . Arien???? Maybe???????

Beau — OKAY, he might be able to outsmart me. Not to toot my own horn, I'm pretty smart myself, but if Beau is Sherlock Holmes, I am John Watson (I mean, in intelligence wise, not referencing their relationship at all). He's a genius. With that said, he's also a twink and a bookworm and I have leg muscles for days from soccer and dancing. A couple of well-placed kicks and he's not standing back up. WINNER: Most likely me.

Jasmir — Now why tf am I gonna put a target on my back like that 🤨 The people around Jasmir are batshit nuts. WINNER: Jasmir (by default)

Espen — Depends. If Espen is allowed his ice powers, how tf am I supposed to compete with that? If it's just fists tho and he gets no powers, I'm pretty confident I could win this fight. When's the last time this man went outside to touch grass? Exactly. WINNER: Circumstantial

Anton — Anton might win if only because I'd chicken out and wouldn't be able to fight him. Not out of fear, but he's just... gestures vaguely. He's sweet. WINNER: Anton (by default)

Tyrian — Nah I ain't winning this one y'all. First off, Tyrian is so nice, he works hard, and is a great cook... Why am I gonna challenge him to a fight? If we did fight, for whatever reason though, he would win. And I would let him. He could punch me and I'd thank him. (Please don't though because I'll also cry). WINNER: Tyrian

Charlie — I think I could take him on. IDK why though but punching him feels kind of homophobic, plus I'd have to deal with Tyrian and Charlie's father so... Nah, no thanks WINNER: Me? Maybe?

Rampion — I'm... Not sure. I'm going to say Rampion is gonna win this one, especially if he has a frying pan. WINNER: Probably Rampion

Sen — HAHAHAHAHA. The moment Sen shows even a teensy bit of hostility towards me, I'm fucking BOLTING. This man could snap me in half like a fucking glow stick. Like he's breaking some pasta noodles to fit into a pot. I'm taking this L, there's no way I could fuckin win THAT fight. Fuck that. WINNER: SEN

Alistair — I'm fairly confident I could win against Alistair but it'd be a really dirty fight. He strikes me as the type to scratch and pull hair and do petty shit. But it's okay! I do too, and the difference is is that half the time I do my nails stiletto style so you better watch out babygirl. The only way Alistair would win is if he makes me cry before we fight. Which is definitely possible. WINNER: Physically, me. Verbally, Alistair.

Rojo — why would I fight such a bean 😭 (also, rojo could wreck my shit) WINNER: Rojo

Miriam — Now this feels REALLY homophobic, how tf am I gonna fight her. Why would I do that? Why would I try to fight her? I wanna be besties with her. If we fought, I would let her win hands down. WINNER: Miriam

[seriously-nobody]

Love's Dark Afflictions

Chapter 14

Warnings: Romance, Murder with a capital M, whole lotta killin, copious amounts of blood, definitely gorey, unhinged behavior

Preface: Hey I'm gonna spoil this one right here and now so for those of you who don't like what I'm about to say can leave and come back for the endings. This whole chapter is about the reader and Alistair going on a murderous rampage killing 2 people in pretty gruesome ways. So if u don't like the sound of that, check back in next week.

“The stable boy is hiding in the sables, sir.” An unfamiliar voice comes from beside you. You stop dead in your tracks and whip your head around. “Who said that?” You demand. “Don’t worry darling, that’s just one of my servants. Here let me show you.” Alistair says through you. Your vision fades to dark purple again and you look back to where the voice was. There stands a tall, broad shouldered man. He has a thick, well groomed mustache, curly brown hair, and a tophat. He wears a long overcoat with a bow tie and he holds a pistol close to his chest. You tilt your head and squint at him. The duelist looks between your eyes, terrified of the both of you. ‘He looks familiar…’ you think. ‘Yes, this is one of the duelists. He's very useful.’ Alistair tells you in a thought. “Where's your brother?” You ask the duelist. “In the stables, keeping an eye on the boy.” He answers. “Hmm. Thank you.” You say.

Still perplexed by the ghost you can see in front of you, you get an idea. ‘I don't know if you can.’ Alistair answers you in your mind. You lift up your hand and the duelist flinches away. “Don't move.” You tell the duelist calmly and he freezes. You slowly place your hand on his chest and you can almost, just barely, feel a presence beneath it. Like putting your hand through a dense fog or just barely touching the surface of water. The duelist shivers and his breathing quickens. “How very interesting.” You say spraying out your fingers. ‘Don’t you dare get any ideas.’ Alistair growls possessively in your mind. You smile, flicking your eyes back up at the duelist. “Phantom touch. What a strange concept.” You say, the duelist, still quaking in fear. Alistair clears your throat. “We’d better get going before someone escapes.” Alistair says aloud, pulling your body away. The duelist visibly relaxes as you step away from him. Alistair walks you both down the hall to the front door. ‘Ruining all my new discoveries.’ You groan mentally. ‘There's no time for your discoveries now. We have pests to kill.’ Alistair huffs, opening the door.

Alistair almost shuts the door before you stop him. ‘I want to sneak up on this one. We need to be silent.’ You tell Alistair in your mind. ‘Ah, what a splendid idea.’ He thinks and very slowly and quietly closes the door. You make your foot falls silent with the sound if the rain muffling them, you prowl to the stables. A ghost peaks through the outer wall of the stables and notices you and Alistair. He has black hair and a small thin mustache. He wears a bicorn and a monocle, and holds a pistol tight to his chest. ‘He must be the other duelist.’ You think. “The boy is hiding in the hay in the last stall on the left, monsieur.” The duelist tells you. Alistair nods for them to return back inside and they do. Your clothes become damp from the downpour, washing away some of the blood from the rage induced murder Alistair had just committed mere minutes ago.

Your mind rolls back to the sight of her crumpled body on the floor. You sadden at the thought of it. She didn’t even fight you. She just took it. She didn’t want to hurt you but she allowed herself to die to keep from hurting you. You never wanted it to turn out this way. You didn't want to kill the ones you liked. It was never meant to be this way. ‘Don’t worry about her. She's in her crystal ball, you can still speak with her.’ Alistair tries and fails to reassure your thoughts. ‘It's not the same.’ You tell him. ‘She will hate me for who I am and what I've done, now.” You step inside.

All of the gas lamps inside had been snuffed out and the light from the mansion doesn't quite reach. You strain to see anything in the dark. ‘Allow me.’ Alistair says. He summons his hatbox and emits a dull yellow light, just enough to light your path. Something in the corner of your eye glints in the light and you flick your eyes over to it. A sharp, 3 pronged pitchfork is mounted on the wall. ‘How perfect of a weapon to end the boy's life.’ You think, Alistair's wicked grin splitting your face open wide. You take it and Alistair admires its sharp points. ‘How poetic an end.’ He hums. You bring your eyes back to the task at hand. You walk slowly, almost silently, stepping on the hay covered floor. You pass the first row of stalls. Rain still beats down on the roof of the stables, covering the noise of your footsteps rustling the hay underfoot. You pass the second, only one left to go. A flash of lightning illuminates the interior and you stop dead in your tracks, controlling your breathing to be as quiet as possible. Then thunder cracks overhead and the horses neigh and rear in their stalls.

A few moments pass and until nothing stirs. You advance cautiously, Alistair tightening your grip on the pitchfork, impatiently. There, on the left, it's the stall the duelist said they were in. You slide back the metal gate loudly and brighten the hatbox. “Ha!” You announce your presence. You take one step into the stall. Your foot lands on something metallic as a click is heard. A sharp, stinging pain clamps down into your left ankle. You grunt and you have to stifle Alistair’s cry of pain. He hadn't felt real, mortal pain in so long he'd forgotten what it had felt like. The pile of hay rustles and the stable boy emerges from it. “You little brat!” Alistair belows. He swings the pitchfork wildly in the boy's direction but can't move with the trap still gnawing at your ankle. You unlock the trap from your ankle but the damage is already done, with blood seeping from the teeth marks. You look up just in time to see a horseshoe flying through the air, aimed straight at your head. You duck out of the way just in time. “A horseshoe?! Really?!” You exclaim, stumbling back. “RAAH!” The stable boy roars and throws horseshoe after horseshoe.

You dodge them up until the last one lands on your foot. You feel Alistair’s seething rage take over. “Enough!” He shouts and advances on the boy, limping forward. He slams the pitchfork down through their chest, the middle prong piercing his heart. The boy once coughs, spitting up blood. And then you can hear it, with Alistair’s hearing, you can hear the last beat of his heart and the last shaky, labored breath that he takes. His body slumps over, his blood soaking the hay beneath him. “Two down.” Alistair says, putting your bloody boot on the stable boy's chest. “Three to go.” You say, pulling the pitchfork out of his chest. You drop it in the hay near his body. You whimper in pain as you try to limp away. “Here, this may help.” Alistair chokes out, summoning his cane. “Thank you dear.” You say. You lean on it and hobble out of the stables, creating a trail on the stone before it gets washed away by the rain.

You enter the mansion, closing the door behind you and leaning against it to take the weight off your wounded ankle. “Your grace, there's one cook left in the kitchen.” A distorted voice says. You look to where it's coming from and the suit of armor that usually stands at the bottom of the stairs stands before you. “Good, should be rather easy given there's only one exit.” Alistair speaks through you. You tilt your head and use Alistair’s vision of the ghost realm to help see the knight's face. You see a pale, clean shaven man with curly golden brown hair and wide blue eyes staring back at you through the open visor. “Hmm… I thought you would've looked different…” You lean forward, invading his space. “But your eyes, they're like brilliant blue sapphires.” You say, examining his features. “S-sire?” The knight says, his voice shaky. The metal of his suit softly clanks as he quakes under your gaze. ‘Never mind the knight.’ Alistair warns. “All this time, you, all of you, wandered these halls and the many rooms of this mansion. Right beside us. But I never saw your faces… just knew you were there… hm.” You say. “Where is the last cook hiding?” You stare into his vibrant blue eyes. “In the pantry to the right of the sink.” The knight cowers, sinking back into his armor. You lean away from him and the clanking stops. “Thank you, knight.” You say in a cheery tone with a kind smile. A complete change from your controlling position and gaze a moment before. You limp off to the kitchen, leaving the knight utterly shaken and confused.

‘Why did you thank them?’ Alistair asks, disgusted. ‘They're more loyal when they think you have earned their trust than when you threaten them.’ You tell him. ‘Ah, you are quite the manipulator, my dear.’ He purrs in your skull. You smirk and open the door to the kitchen.

The kitchen is dark and silent. “Juuuliaaa~” You say in a menacing tone. You turn the gas lamps on but no movement can be seen or heard still. You walk in and close the door behind you. “I know you’re in here~” You limp, sliding your foot along the floor. You look around for a weapon and find a large butcher stuck into a wood cutting board. You pry it out of the cutting board as you walk past. You draw closer to the pantry. “We can make this quick and clean if you are willing to comply.” Alistair says through you. You're right outside the cabinet and with Alistair's hearing, you can hear her quick breaths and thumping heart beat hammering in her chest. You crouch down outside the cabinet door and listen to it, their fear of the both of you like music to your ears. “We can hear your pretty little heart beating out of your chest.” Alistair whispers and you giggle.

The door slams open, taking you both aback. Julia swings a large metal meat mallet that lands directly on your shoulder. You growl, falling back against the floor and you cradle your bludgeoned shoulder. She leaps out of the cabinet and straddles your torso but before she can land another hit, Alistair puts the butcher knife to her throat. She stops mid swing, her anger fading to shock. “Let go of the trinket.” Alistair demands. She does as he says and it drops beside your head. “Any last words?” You ask, smugly. “No? Perhaps I could have your quiche recipe.” You laugh. “Never.” She spits in your face. “Hmm. I didn't think so.” You say, digging the knife into their flesh and dragging it slowly across their neck. Blood cascades down over the blade of the knife and down onto your face as they choke. They collapse and roll off of you, blood spilling freely from their open neck. They sputter and cough until their eyes go dark.

You pant, catching your breath as adrenaline courses through you. “That was beautiful.” Alistair says, smiling. “And we still have two more.” You remind him with a cackle. You stand and lean in Alistair’s cane, looking down at the now empty eyed Julia. “It's almost sad. I really liked her quiche.” You say. “We'll hire new servants. Ones who can make you the best quiche you'll ever have.” He says, reassuring you. “I suppose we could, couldn't we.” You smile a little at the thought. You hobble out of the kitchen, blood staining almost every part of you.

You hear loud footsteps and the sound of clinking metal against thick leather, heading in your direction but you don't see anything but footprints in the carpeting. “Milord, there's one servant left.” Says a deep mighty voice. You use Alistair’s vision, the room fading to purple again. A tall, burly, and rugged looking man trudges towards you. He holds a large, wide ax with both hands and wears an executioner’s hood that covers the top half of his face. “Where are they?” You lean close to him, examining him closer. He has a red and white scruffy five o’ clock shadow and his eyes are dark and shadowy, almost devoid of light. The executioner doesn’t move an inch, and stays perfectly still for you. “They’re guarding the entrance to the attic, where Gracey is hiding.” The executioner says, his voice steady and his demeanor unshaken. “You don’t seem to be afraid of us.” You gaze into his eyes, those pools of darkness. “No, sir.” He says, keeping his obsidian eyes on you. ‘What are you playing at?’ Alistair demands. ‘This one might be the most useful one yet. Don’t interrupt me.’ You tell Alistiar.’ “And why is that, hmm?” You ask the executioner. “I dealt with many tyrants when I was a mortal. You’re no different.” He says bluntly. “Hmm.” You hum with a smile. “Well done, headsman.” You lean away from him and nod, walking off, up the stairs. You think of what is to come. What you must do to the mortal you love the most. There’s no turning back now…

Ending 4: Till Death Do Us Part

Ending 1: Together Forever

[adventurous-adventures]

5 July 2024: We're back!! ... again

we keep going on haitus because something keeps coming up

BING BONG WE'RE BACK AGAIN

Georgie uses Jesus. It's super effective.

There is a spare chair that neither Zain nor Georgie sit on.

Praise the floor! (reference to TAAOD and the floormans)

Lara is now bulk buying books instead of crystals. (jesus, really calling me out on that one. y'all think books are an improvement to crystals)

Georgie has also fallen head first into sonic lore. Zain approves of this.

Zain goes goblin mode and jumpscares Alex.

The 5 Dwarves size up the rats (?) And think they can take them...in a fight, right?

Alex has completely lost it. "It took one sentence?! To make a sex joke?!" (new record)

Mick makes a small yelp. I don't know why they made that.

The Dwarves are not fighters, they're lovers.

Lara was really close to throwing their embroidery work at Georgie.

"The Gnomes want to fuck the rats" - Zain "They're Dwarves." - Alex "The Dwarves want to fuck the rats" - Zain "Viscerally." - Mick "With Pickaxes." - Georgie "This is the weirdest Minecraft porn I've ever heard of." - Zain

It has been 17 minutes and Alex is so very broken.

"He's just Don John." - Georgie "Anywhere else and he would be a racist black guy." - Zain

"The default for racists is white." - Georgie

Ew we're talking about religion.

Zain now wants to burn a Bible.

Communion wafers are made of Jesus' flesh.

"Who the fuck wants to eat Jesus?" - Zain (blame Jesus, he's the one who came up with the eucharist)

Georgie and Mick are Pagan. Zain immediately thinks of Pagan Min from far cry 4 (May Pagan's light shine upon us all.)

"We could take it 3 way." - Georgie

We try to figure out the context of the choc'd or Fingered quote. Georgie wondered if we fingered anybody.

There's a locked door behind the Dwarves. Iphigenia breaks their thieves' tools.

Mick was very closing in searching up 'how to make a bomb in D&D.'

Raven knows how to make gunpowder.

One of the Dwarves finally tell us of another way that involves climbing up a cliff.

Raven does a resident evil 4 and shoots the lock with his crossbow. He gets a nat 20 and breaks it.

Raven convinces the Dwarves not to fight the Lycanthorpe rats. The Dwarves made River-Lea literally swear to come back. (River-Lea says fuck).

The party stealthily make it to where they can see the exit. There are two guards that are standing in the way, watching out towards the clearing.

Zain ponders how to deal with this in the toilet.

Zain has decided to resort to violence with a suprise round.

"Gaylight, Girlkeep, Gasboss."

Plan has changed, Don John gets yeeted by River-Lea (georgie temporarily regains yeeting privileges which were revoked from the yeeting incident)

Raven is gonna suprise shoot a mofo.

Alex's brain is fried from all the sex jokes.

"Man your brain is really fucked up." - Zain

SUPRISE ROUND STARTS:

Juniper makes the guards crispy with a couple of scorching rays.

Raven gets a headshot on one and then brutally murders the other.

Raven has "edged the Dwarves emotionally."

There's another wererat that opens the door and sees the scene unfold. Then the party decides to bolt it out of there.

The party makes it back to Phandalin by sunset.

"What has Wester done for this village?" - Georgie "Shit his pants" - Zain

Alistair and Dewdrop have been quiet this entire session.

Dewdrop was getting railed by Orcs and Alistair was just quiet.

Iphigenia and Juniper sleep at Iphigenia's family bakery and Raven and River-Lea sleep at the farm.

IT'S A NEW DAY, YES IT IS!

Zain falls for the Mind Goblin joke.

The party tries to persuade Wester to get double the payment. Instead the party gets 100 from Wester and 100 from Don John.

"Polycule is good for your finances." - Georgie.

Juniper is designated group accountant.

The party now goes to the blue lions store now run by Annette fire emblem.

Zain now voices Annette fire emblem in this campaign.

Raven fails to try and rizz Annette.

Georgie throws an eraser into the poutine.

We have 3 new quests! The party are ready to head out for Axholm and make a safe haven in the event of evacuation.

[quiisquiliae]

When Finn shows up after Awakening events, the swords he uses are Starfang and Vigilance. He also would carry Duncan's dagger with him, giving Duncan's sword to Alistair after Amaranthine is saved. (He uses it right up until he gets Vigilance, Alistair has the dagger. They're gonna end up trading.)

Alistair gets Cailan's armor they salvage from Ostagar, as well as Maric's sword before they fight the Archdemon.

[darkfeanix]

Thedas Tuesday

Since I am a coward who doesn't want to create any more character information that could be contradicted by the game (at least, not until I've played the game), I've decided that for the foreseeable future I'm gonna use Thedas Tuesday to develop the worldstate for my first playthrough with Hissera. Most of it will probably end up headcanon, as I doubt the character creator will be as thorough as the Keep, which itself only factored in decisions potentially relevant to Inquisition (?). Even so, it's "established" headcanon, as all of it will be based on what was possible in the games.

Today we'll be going very broad, looking at some of the biggest choices in each of the three games. Since all of my PCs will be women, I'm gonna tag it as the "Girls Get It Done" worldstate. IYKYK.

Heroes

Petronella Aeducan (Reaver)

Ariel Hawke (Duelist)

Rhona Lavellan (Knight-Enchanter)

Worldstate information below the cut.

Dragon Age: Origins

Petronella Aeducan

My very first Warden, long lost to the annals of time and cyberspace, was a dwarf noble who used the default name Sereda, so it feels fitting that this worldstate be inspired by the default dwarf noble-focused worldstate that players can choose at the beginning of Dragon Age II: "No Compromise". In this worldstate, her name is Petronella, and she was very much forced into the role of leadership against her will. She didn't want the throne, even as Bhelan tried to unsubtly nudge her toward making a powerplay against Trian, and she certainly didn't want to be in charge of the Wardens' entire campaign against the Blight in Ferelden, but Alistair deferred to her pretty much from the start.

First, the most important decision: Petronella cured the Mabari, of course. She named him Wolf, inspired by the blighted surface wolves she had encountered during the expedition to Aeducan Thaig; they had been the first surface creatures she had ever seen up close.

Petronella did not romance anybody.

In The Arl of Redcliffe, she stayed and fought alongside the villagers, then in the castle she was persuaded to spare Connor and go to the Circle of Magi for help. Connor's life was ultimately saved by Wynne being sent into the Fade to fight the desire demon.

In Broken Circle, she saved the mages, including First Enchanter Irving.

In the Urn of Sacred Ashes, she desecrated the ashes in exchange for the knowledge of how to become a reaver. Leliana died trying to kill her, and Wynne abandoned the party when she learned what had happened.

In Nature of the Beast, she brokered peace between the elves and the werewolves.

In A Paragon of Her Kind, she destroyed the Anvil of the Void and crowned Bhelan (after supporting Harrowmont early on).

In The Landsmeet, she allied with Anora and recruited Loghain, which cost her Alistair as an ally. She convinced Anora to not execute him.

When she was told about the Dark Ritual, she rejected Morrigan's offer, and Morrigan left as well.

In The Battle of Denerim, Loghain sacrificed himself and killed Archdemon.

Dragon Age: Origins – Awakening

In the Depths of Depravity, the Architect was killed.

In The Assault on Amaranthine, the city of Amaranthine burned while Petronella returned to Vigil's Keep to repel the darkspawn attack.

Dragon Age: Origins – Witch Hunt

In the Search of Morrigan, an incredibly embittered Petronella stabbed Morrigan.

Dragon Age II

Ariel Hawke

My first Hawke was a man. I don't remember his name, but I'm pretty sure he was a Diplomatic/Blue Hawke, and I do remember that he romanced Isabela. Since this is the Girls Get It Done worldstate, some changes will obviously need to be made. Ariel Hawke is a devout Andrastian, though like her friend Varric, she doesn't have a very high opinion of the Chantry as an institution. She believes strongly in the need for Circle reforms, in greater freedoms for mages, though not the outright eradication of the Circles.

Ariel ended up in a rivalry romance with Sebastian Vael.

At the end of the Prologue, Ariel joined the smugglers because she thought they could get more work for Bethany.

When the time came for The Deep Roads Expedition, Ariel was convinced by their mother to leave Bethany behind, leading to Bethany being taken to the Circle of Magi.

In Following the Qun, Ariel did not side with Mother Petrice.

In Legacy, Ariel ultimately sided with Janeka after learning that Larius threatened her father.

In Demands of the Qun, Isabela returned with the Tome of Koslun, and Ariel fought and killed the Arishok to protect her.

In Best Served Cold, Ariel handed the conspirators over to Orsino.

In The Last Straw, Ariel executed Anders, and sided with the mages.

Dragon Age: Inquisition

Rhona Lavellan

My first Inquisitor was Lavellan, pretty sure with the default name Ellana. Of my three heroes, Inquisitor Rhona Lavellan is closest to her actually played equivalent. She is the Second of Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel, and in the course of her time serving as Inquisitor, she learned the way of the Knight-Enchanter due to the similarities to the arcane warriors of her clan's histories.

With the help of all three of her advisors, Clan Lavellan survived the machinations of the Elder One, and Keeper Deshanna was installed as an elven representative on the new Wycome City Council.

Rhona romanced Sera, though their relationship ultimately fell apart due to differences in opinion over the existence of the elven gods.

In The Wrath of Heaven, and in fact throughout her time as the Inquisitor, Rhona resolutely denied being the Herald of Andraste.

During the events of In Hushed Whispers, Rhona allied with the mages.

In Here Lies the Abyss, Warden Stroud made a noble sacrifice in the Fade to distract Nightmare, and Rhona encouraged the Grey Wardens to rebuild.

In Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, Empress Celene was assassinated, Grand Duchess Florianne was killed, and Gaspard was installed as a puppet for Briala to rule through

In What Pride Had Wrought, Rhona respected the templar traditions, allied with the sentinels, and was ultimately the one who drank from the Well of Sorrows.

After averting Doom Upon All the World, Rhona's influence led to Leliana being elected as Divine Victoria.

Dragon Age: Inquisition – The Descent

In The Descent, Rhona travelled into the Deep Roads to uncover the source of earthquakes, and discovered the Titan.

Dragon Age: Inquisition – Jaws of Haakon

In Ameridan's End, Rhona met the last Inquisitor, and revealed the truth about his elven heritage to the world.

Dragon Age: Inquisition – Trespasser

In Trespasser, Rhona told Solas she would find a way to change his mind, and disbanded the Inquisition.