#he will absolutely fight sera's battles though

[deva-arts]

It's hard to make Nate angry. It's pretty easy if you're Titan though-

don't you just hate it when you are forced to treat one of your wife's worst enemies

Since the handwriting is bad here I'll leave a lil transcript under the cut

Nate: *Is drafted into Titan's ICU ward.*

Nate: (Self-control... Self-control... Self-control... Not worth it...)

Titan: So then she's like, 'boo-hoo u killed my mother', and I don't even know her lol.

Nate: Please stop talking.

Titan: Was expecting a mid battle, but she was ferocious! is this love?

Nate: ...

Titan: And there we were, Doctor! She and I, in the heat of BATTLE! I broke twelve bones, she broke six, and-

[dick-meister]

The absolute deconstruction of Adam’s mental in UC verse has me feeling a bunch of ways.

Like, he started out hopeful, trying his hardest to work things out with Lucifer and Lilith and actually did! They were having a good bit of fun and at one point Lucifer started to catch the tiniest bit of feelings for Adam. He talked to Roo for the first time in a long time to which he made amends for things between them as well.

Feeling good and having trust in them, Adam was fully prepared to go and talk to Sera and get an audience for all of them to talk about G’s plans but funnily enough, Adam’s own superior wouldn’t hear him out and locked him away for an amount of time he wasn’t even sure of. There he was bombarded by memories of himself and of Eve that tortured him pretty much.

At the time, he was feeling like the people of Hell were a lot better than those in Heaven only on the sheer fact that they listened to him and would listen to him. However after being broken out of the white room, everything changed dramatically. Lilith approaching Adam and trying to get him angry just so he could kill her in said anger, while around Lucifer, messed him up on the inside. He knew she was right on some levels but how it was done was just… wrong and left him literally beaten and half dead. Where else was he supposed to go after that but home?

Home, where he was now a fugitive if spotted by anyone who worked for the council as Sera had never allowed him to leave the White Room and if found, he would have been sentenced to fall. Only to just… lie on the ground for a day, bleeding and being alone up until Charlie was ported to him by G himself as a test to see if Charlie would finish him off right then and there. The sad thing is, looking back on it now, Adam would have preferred her to do so.

There was a bit of regained hope for him at that time, talking to Charlie and taking care of her made him feel a little better in a way that he wasn’t so alone. But there was a growing feeling of abandonment that was quickly getting bigger and bigger.

Eventually, Charlie leaves back to Hell, Lute tells him of Sera wanting to summon him after an accidental slip of the tongue and they ditch to Hell together. At least at the Hotel he got some time to rest, however that wouldn’t take long to be disrupted, learning of Charlie’s death, then having to fight Charbringer and eventually give up fighting her knowing that it was wrong to do so and he died.

Adam still remembers feeling the pain of death, being dead and his soul slipping away. Even though, somehow it was reverted and Lute took his place in his stead to which he had to watch Lute die, and then watch Charlie die in his arms…

After that, he buried Lute and just gave up. Adam went home and felt nothing. He’s lost so much and when looking around himself for who he had, who was he supposed to go to for help? He didn’t view himself as anything but a joke to everyone, someone to pin blame to, someone to leave in the background. Of course Angela tried to console him, but he wanted people who knew him to help him, love him, because those who don’t know him say the wrong things, make assumptions and cause him to feel even more lonely and wrong.

His mentality at this point was so shattered that when Eve, who is absolutely alive, showed up. He thought she was just a figment of his imagination, more White Room BS who helped a little but once he left to see Emily and found out that Sera had passed in battle, he found that he really couldn’t feel anything towards it. He felt bad for Emily, but the feelings of it was all light and on the surface.

Once he got home, that’s when he made the decision, if he was doomed to be nothing more than a after thought then he would just go back to being the villain he once pushed himself past. It’s the only way he knew how to cope and it’s not like anyone was coming around to help him anyways, it was either the mask or lay on the floor until the Cycle ended and he couldn’t sit back and do that.

He’s come full circle, and that’s really sad but also an incredibly interesting character ‘development’ that’s happened over time. I thought Adam would end up being a hero through this story, showing off bravery, selflessness and care but… this has all gone so against him that he just can’t feel those things anymore or much of anything.

UC is…. Not great for Adam lol

[herearedragons]

Self and Future for each!

OC asks: relationship edition

Thanks for the ask! I'll change things around a bit and do these for the Inquisitors.

.... also, I'm answering "Future" first and I'm making it short, because under the cut are increasingly long rants about each of these guys' special flavor of identity crisis, and that's a lot to read already.

Future: Is there anyone your OC is looking forward to meeting or to seeing again? Who? What might that meeting or reunion look like?

Evelyn: she hasn't seen her parents for three years now (that's when she got sent to the Circle), and she's definitely looking forward to seeing them again. I do like to imagine that, as Inquisitor, she's able to arrange a clandestine meeting with them and even brings Sera along; I don't think she would want them to come to Skyhold, since being known in public as the Inquisitor's parents sounds dangerous. I think it would be a happy reunion for all of them, and I think her parents would love Sera; Evelyn's own mother eloped with her secretary(Evelyn's father), so I think they're pretty open-minded when it comes to making a match.

Neilar: the entirety of his clan, oh please for the love of the gods let him go home. In my headcanon, he was there for the Wycome incident; if not for the entirety of it, then at least for the last battle. And, weirdly enough, it was a better reunion for him than later visits to his clan in peaceful times; maybe because then, when there was danger, him being Inquisitor meant something good. He had a place there; he did his part by bringing in troops and joining the fight himself. The clan members are obviously always happy to see him, especially his family, but in later visits it's more bittersweet for him.

Aqun: also his family. They do write to each other constantly, and I think he's been home at least once as Inquisitor; he definitely had people stationed near his family home, since his parents live by themselves in a remote location and if there was any sort of attack, help wouldn't arrive fast enough from the nearby city. His parents are used to him being out on missions for long periods of time, though not as long as years, and I think that when he comes home for the first time as Inquisitor, it's actually pretty casual, and it's nice for him to know that at least things back home haven't changed.

May: her entire storyline is about trying to avoid people from her past, so she's absolutely not looking forward to meet anyone from her time before the Inquisition - except, maybe, for the Andrastian priest who converted her. It would be fun if they ever ended up coming to Skyhold; May would be happy to know they're alright, but also kind of terrified of speaking to them, because imagine converting a struggling criminal and then learning that she's a controversial prophet-kind-of-military-leader.

Self: How is your OC's relationship with themself? Does your OC like who they are? Is there anything about themself that they would change?

Evelyn: her entire thing is lying about herself as an act of self-defense, so her relationship to herself is... complicated! To say the least! It's this funny situation where she should have been fine, like, she's actually pretty good for the role she was raised for (which is the role of a minor noble who represents her family in business deals and the such), but instead she ended up a Circle mage and then a rebel mage and then the leader of a huge religious organization and she's just a stressed out 23-year-old who's really tired of reinventing herself to match whatever's happening around her, so at some point she just starts making stuff up. She tells Cassandra that she's an enchanter (despite not even being Harrowed) and lies about her age. She lies about believing that Andraste spoke to her. Oh, and also her family sent her to the Circle under a different name and legal identity because her magic manifested late (at 20 years old) and it seemed a lot like the Maker-fearing Trevelyans were hiding an apostate, so they made up a story about Rose (her birth name) leaving to study abroad and Evelyn being a whole different Trevelyan who's actually just transferring from another Circle. And initially it's about protecting her family and protecting herself, but inevitably it does start to feel like there's something wrong with who she actually is. If there wasn't, she wouldn't have to hide anything, right? She has no idea what she would actually change, but she would love for that sense of wrongness to go away.

Neilar: honestly didn't think too much about his identity/his opinion of himself until the events of Inquisition. It was... fine? People in the clan liked him, he was good at his job, it was all he needed to know. As Inquisitor, things get more complicated, because he keeps ending up in situations where being a good guy and a good scout isn't enough, and it's kind of like Evelyn's situation, except instead of hiding behind a false identity, he ends up breaking and bending himself until he does fit the mold. I mentioned his assassin training in the past and how that was a conscious attempt to learn how to be more ruthless. And it just keeps going. On every turn, he's trying to change himself into the hero he feels the story needs right now, regardless of what it might mean for him in the long run, and that's how we get to him drinking from the Well of Sorrows and being super possessed and no one being happy about that. So yeah, his main thing is being changed by his time as the Inquisitor to the point where he can't ever go back to just being a scout in his clan, because that would be an irresponsible use of the power and influence he now has, and he knows that, and they know that, and he knows that's never going away. A lot of times he wishes he could be just a nobody again, someone who only really matters to his loved ones.

Aqun: definitely has it together more than the other two, but not entirely free of identity struggles either. As I said before, he's a human-Qunari halfblood, and he spent the first two decades of his life living in relative isolation with his parents before joining the Valo-Kas. Which was great for him, in many ways, but also the other result of that is that he doesn't really fit anywhere. His general bearing and upbringing is more human-coded than Qunari-coded, but most of human society will see "tall, grey, kind of has horns" and won't really care about the rest. The Valo-Kas, on the other hand, accept him as he is (eventually; he did have to prove himself during his first runs with them, and he did have to work harder than most), but he's still not the same as them. I think that one of the reasons he ended up drifting together with Adina is because she's kind of in the same boat, just with the spirit world replacing the human world in her case. They both come from very specific backgrounds that literally no one else they know has experienced, and it usually doesn't matter, until it does. And I don't think he would change anything about himself, it's just a weird thing that's a part of who he is. I do think that his and Adina's bond has helped both of them a lot; they might not fully belong with the groups they are a part of, but they definitely belong with each other.

May: Where do I even begin. Her relationship with herself is kind of like Evelyn's in the sense that there's layers, but instead of layers of lies it's layers of guilt. She was born into a crime family. She was supposed to inherit her mother's position as the matriarch of that family. Then she messed up a very expensive lyrium delivery, because her group got ambushed and she chose saving her people over saving the cargo. The fallout of that was her being effectively disowned, in huge debt to the Carta, and being demoted to a rank-and-file bruiser just to make sure that she spends the rest of her life working off that debt. She was in her early 20s. It was bad. She made a mistake she could never come back from, her family wasn't her family anymore, and it didn't seem like she could do anything else but waste away. Then, at some point, she had an encounter with a dwarven Andrastian priest (of the likes of Brother Burkel from DAO), and it gave her some kind of hope. She secretly converted. She began hoping that, maybe, with the Maker's guidance she can figure things out, get some kind of redemption, leave the Carta. And then her wish got granted in a pretty backwards way as she witnessed the Divine getting murdered and promptly became a prophet with a private army and spies and companions that could wipe out her family if she asked them to. It's kind of a dream scenario, in a way, but she's not ready. She's not good enough - righteous enough, learned enough, confident enough - to take advantage of it yet. But it's here, and she has to do something fast, or it all goes away. So she starts working on it, and, if Neilar's attempts to become the ideal Inquisitor are like something being crushed to fit into a mold, in her case it's like metal being hammered into shape. The years in servitude to her own family made her quiet, patient and resilient, and with some actual hope on the horizon, she's more than willing to put in the blood and sweat it takes to be who the Inquisition needs. And, after seeing Blackwall teach the farmers to defend themselves, she decides the Inquisition needs someone like him. She chooses him as a role model, and, while extremely ironic, it works well for her at the time. During the events of Inquisition, she's mostly focused on distancing herself from her past and working towards this knight-in-a-shining-armor ideal, but, funnily enough, after the events of Trespasser she actually comes around to the crime family thing. In one of the possible endings I wrote for her, she ends up dethroning her mother and taking control of the Cadash family, using their resources to aid in hunting Solas, and I think it's pretty fun. She comes full circle, being a leader of the same organizations that once had the power to judge her (the Carta and the Andrastian Chantry).

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

hiiiii! can you answer: a3, a5, a6, c2, c6, c10, d7 & f7? ^-^

I sure can :D

Yakuza Questionnaire

A3: Favourite Protagonist(s)?

Kiryu, Majima, Saejima, Shinada, Ichiban.

Haruka is a fun protagonist to play as a well, I got very invested in my dance battles and being able to walk around without immediately having to be accosted by the thug patrol.

A5: Favourite Final Bosse(s)?

Kuze isn't a final boss but he's still a favourite so there.

Majima's fight with Lao Gui.

Ryuj's fight is SO GOOD. I love it.

Mine's fight is awesome. The music, the first dynamic intro in the series, the way he decently wrecks Kiryu..stellar.

I'm legally obligated to answer Aizawa here but tbh he really is an amazing boss fight. The several transitions, the way that Kiryu fights him all the way out of the Tojo Clan's HQ, so good.

The final boss in yakuza 7 (which you haven't played yet so I'll not spoiler the name)

Judgment and Lost Judgment

Kuriowa's fight!! It is a two parter but you don't KNOW it's a two parter and I had no health left and thought it was over AND IT WAS NOT. So good.

Kuwana.

C2: Favourite Side Character(s)?

Nishitani, Kashiwagi, Yayoi, Nishida, Minami, Sera, Watase, Katsuya. Kiryu's taxi family, and the boss of that, Nakajima.

EDIT: TACHIBANA AND DAIGO MY DEARS HOW’D I FORGET YOU

That lieutenant of the Seiryu clan in yakuza 7, Takebe, Chairman Hoshino, Mitsu.

I'm forgetting some I bet.

Judgment and Lost Judgment

Tsukumo, Amasawa, Soma, Akutsu.

Yeah I'm forgetting some.

C2: Which games had the worst plotline(s)?

I had to play yakuza 4 twice and I still never fully understood the plot(s).

C6: If you could revive any deceased character, who would it be and why?

I wanted to see more of Nishitani so bad.

Nishiki, maybe. Also perhaps Mine. I don't necessarily need redemption but I would like to see the potential come about!

Yasuko, let her have a storyline that does her justice.

I'm reviving Kazama purely to interrogate him.

C10: Which games do you think should get a remake?

None honestly, I'd rather they localize Ishin and Kenzan.

D7: Who was the least engaging protagonist?

I'm going to say Masayoshi Tanimura even though I like him BUT here's why I'm saying this. A great deal of his most engaging content is kept behind his side content. Some players don't do the side content *though I am definitely not one of them, I want ALL of the yakuza it has to offer, thank you*, but if a player was to do a speed run, there is a possibility that they'd find Tanimura a little flat. He's really bulked up in side content including his storyline with Little Asia, the immigrants and the detective he deals with, Saki.

F7: Who are you fighting on the Millennium Tower rooftop?

After I revive Shintaro Kazama I'm dragging him up there, and demanding some ANSWERS.

Will I win? Course not.

Will it be cathartic to try? Absolutely.

I'd fight Saejima too if only to experience one of his back breaking bear hugs tbh. Sedate me with your arms sir, please.

Thanks for sending in!

PS: I haven't answered it yet, someone please ask me about the tattoos. I'll even include pictures. Let me ramble.

[corvidkusnos]

Precious Moments

Ship: Carver Hawke/Matthew Presley (Carver/OC)

Wordcount: 876

Tags: Valentines Day, Wedding Anniversary

AO3 Link

Matthew had been writing up reports on recent missions and signing documents for hours. When he’s not out fighting demons or getting an entire mountain dropped on him, he’s doing paperwork and being a peacemaker for everyone’s issues, and it seemed to never end. Being the ‘herald’ for a god he barely believed in was not how he thought his life would turn out, but someone had to take Corypheus down. Again.

Exhaling heavily, he slumped back in his chair rocking his quill between his fingers and peered out of the window from where he sat in the office space of his quarters. The sky was an icy blue with hints of a purplish hue and sparce clouds scattered across it. The breach wasn’t visible from this angle and for once the world seemed calm. Save for the distant bustling of the inhabitants of the fortress, all seemed still and quiet. Matthew only wished he was spending this breath of fresh air between battles and playing diplomat were spent reading in the garden or baking in the kitchens (though everyone insisted he should stay away from preparing food himself, much to his dismay). Fighting back a frown, he huffed and turned his attention back to the papers in front of him. The sooner he got them done, the sooner he could steal a moment to himself, after all.

A trade approval: signed. Documents confirming mage protection under the Inquisition: signed. A request to acquire more…bees? Sera. A smile tugged at his lips as he rolled his eyes. Ah, what the hey? Approved and signed.

Matthew was so eager to get through the mountain of papers before him that he didn’t even hear the door open. One second, he saw parchment with official mumbo-jumbo on it, the next, a bouquet of yellow flowers. Blinking in surprise, Matthew shot his gaze up to see his partner stood before him.

“Carver, you scared the shit outta me.”

“Sorry,” he huffed a laugh. Carver smiled softly and leaned his against the oak table between them, “You’ve been up to your tits in all this Chantry shit all day, so I thought maybe, y’know…”

Matthew’s quill lay limp in his hand as he used his spare to loosely grip the bouquet, gently resting his hand over Carver’s, smiling. “Thank you.”

Carver leaned in closer over the desk, closing the gap between their lips, cupping his lover’s cheek with his free hand. They stayed like this for a moment taking in each other’s presence, Carver’s thumb gently caressing Matthew’s jaw.

“Happy anniversary,” Carver uttered when they finally pulled away.

“Anni...? –Fuck!” Matthew’s eyes shifted from confused to mortified before he sunk his face into his hands, “Carver, I am so sorry.”

Carver let out a small chuckle before leaning back onto the desk, almost sitting on it, and resting his hand on the nape of Matty’s neck. “What did I tell ya!” – he rubbed his fingers soothingly against his skin – “These preppy bastards have been overloading you with absolutely everything! I think it’s about time they naff off and step up for a change.”

Matty shifted slightly and propped his chin onto the ball of his hands, looking up at the other man, “Not sure they’d take kindly to that.”

Carver scoffed, “The world isn’t going to blow up because the Herald of Andraste took an evening off.”

Matty snorted, raising a brow playfully, “Well it already gave it its best shot once.”

Cocking his head, Carver bounced a nod in consideration, “Yeah, yeah, well, the world can wait a bit, anyhow.” He shifted his weight onto his feet and paced across the room for a vase to put the flowers in. Grabbing a pot that was ‘good enough for now’, he placed it on the bedside table and planted the bouquet inside, making a mental note to fill it with water later. “I’ve already sorted out a dinner for us so we should probably get a move on before it gets cold.”

“Ahh, I see,” Matthew grinned, his voice teasing. Getting up from his desk, he walked over to his partner, brushing his fingers against his hand, “This is about the food.”

Carver locked fingers with Matthew and gave a look of feigned shock, “I’ll have you know I managed to convince the cooks to let me use their kitchen to cook my belovedhusband a delightful meal and whisk him away from his boring duties for our wedding anniversary because I love him.” He leaned in for a kiss with a smirk, and then pulled away slightly. “So…it’s a little bit about the food. But that’s not the point.”

“My hero,”Matthew teased, grinning widely and then softening his tone, “I love you, too.”

They pulled each other closer this time, arms entangled around one another as their lips met once more. Their familiar warmth was comforting. Beneath all the banter and sarcasm, they both knew everything could go down the gutter any moment with the lingering threat of Corypheus and the uncertainty of the Calling Carver and the other Wardens could hear, anxiety-inducing was putting it lightly.

Being together was more precious than ever. And they wanted to forget about the impending danger, even if just for one night.

[theheraldsrest]

"Companions in a snowball fight."

Snowed a bit ago. Got told off by Lex. Life goes on. Have it so that there is some magical protection around Skyhold and that’s why it’s rather green up in the snowy mountains, but every once in a while, it’ll snow pretty heavily and get through. -Cabot

Cullen

He kept saying he had too much to do, too much to plan. Doesn’t even know how you convinced a bunch of his men to join in, but wasn’t going to stop them. They needed a break anyways. Apparently, they thought he needed one as well since a second later a snowball soared over and smacked him in the face. The soldiers waited for the commander’s yelling but instead the soldier who hit him got a face full of snow a second later. Being from a big family, he knows how to hold himself in a snowball fight.

Josephine

You were able to convince her to take a break from her writing and letters and, once she was dressed for snow, came outside to the battle that was already underway. Someone help her, she doesn’t know how to make a snowball nor who to hit. She keeps ducking behind you or taking cover whenever a snowball is thrown at her. Finally gets a hit, but it’s Cullen who she hits. She brought this man into this fight, but no one needs to know that.

Leliana

You understand that she’s your spymaster, a bard, and one of the best archers ever? Yes? Just making sure. She already has a plan and the beginning of it is to convince everyone that the snowball fight is childish and she would rather not join in. Of course, it comes as a surprise when you all get walloped in the head from the battlements but when you guys check, no one’s there. Doesn’t help that she soon shows she’s on no one's side but her own and is taking out her own people. There is no right or wrong in a snow war. Only body counts.

Vivienne

She’d rather just watch, thank you. This is too childish for her taste, but does enjoy trying to predict who will win with others. Some people say she was tipping it in her favor since every once in a while a random snowball will come from nowhere and hit another. Yes, way too childish for your taste, Vivienne.

Varric

Would’ve been one of the hardest targets to hit if he didn’t feel like running his mouth every five seconds. Didn’t start the snowball fight but dragged most people into it. His precise aiming also helps since he always gets his targets, mostly hitting Solas or Cassandra. And, after all this time, he agrees to letting Bull throw him. Ever seen a dwarf fly? The inquisitor has.

Cole

He remembers vaguely snowball fights from those memories he had seen, but never experienced them. After a quick and thorough explanation, he thinks he’s got the idea. One minute, he’s there, the next, he’s gone and you’re on the ground with snow all over you. He might have just learned it but he’s pretty good. Gets to a point where you have to ban him from disappearing because Sera calls it cheating.

Solas

Absolutely not. He already has to deal with Sera, but giving her the privilege of throwing something at him? No thank you. Occasionally steps out to see how it’s going though, make sure that no one is actually dying while shaking his head at how ridiculous this is (mortals, am I right?). Of course, that doesn’t stop him from suddenly getting hit in the side of the head while reading in the library by a certain elf, who finds herself getting covered in snow later. Solas denies everything but is much happier.

Cassandra

No. Just, no. When you ask her, she stares at you for a few seconds before going back to whatever she was doing. You try to convince her a few more times to join and she refuses until you say the magic words “You get to pelt Varric with snowballs.” At first, Varric has the upper hand against her, until she finds where he’s hiding. Even Bull is impressed by the size of the snowball she made for Varric.

Iron Bull

It’s all fun and games until you get the mercenary to join. He might be a bigger target but that just means it’s gonna take more than a few snowballs to take him down. He plays it out as if he was out on the battlefield, coming up with tactics to take everyone out. Doesn’t help that his snowballs are a little bit bigger. He is taken down after the Chargers pulled a fast one and dumped the snow on the top of the tavern onto him.

Dorian

Coming from a much warmer place, this is his first snowfall and, surprisingly, wants to try everything. Warm clothes? Check. Warm drinks? Check. Friends who are aiming for the person who is still getting used to this? Check. He’s an easy target, most people aiming for the pompous man, but they soon learn to fear him. Another rule has to be made in place of Dorian using his magic to knock a pile of snow onto Blackwall.

Sera

You can bet she’s the one who started it and got most people into it. Doesn’t matter how many times she gets hit, how many times she’s taken down, she always gets back up and gets her revenge. Honestly, it was a needed break for everyone and Sera knew it, but won’t admit it. It also gave her a way to test out some other tricks she was planning on using when on the battlefield. Also lets her see the others having fun, even (Gasp!) Vivienne and Solas. Still doesn’t explain how she got the snow in Solas’s room.

Blackwall

He was just watching when Sera hit the inquisitor with a snowball then proceeded to hit others as well. Gave him a good chuckle until she spotted him. You’ve never seen this man run so fast and neither has he. Sera is quite disappointed until he sneaks up on her and dumps snow onto her. He has chosen war. He hasn’t had this much fun since...never. At the end, he’s just lying in the snow, claiming the battle had taken him and to leave him to his fate.

All in all, when your little snow battle is over, you and the others are all sitting around the tavern fire, enjoying some drinks and relishing in the glow of the battle.

[according-to-the-laura]

StackedNatural Day 182: 6x21, 6x22, 9x23, 10x23

StackedNatural Masterpost: [x]

May 20, 2022

6x21: Let It Bleed

Written by: Sera Gamble

Directed by: John F. Showalter

Original air date: May 20, 2011

Plot Synopsis:

Dean's worst nightmare comes true when a demon kidnaps Ben and Lisa in order to get to him. The brothers are forced to join forces with an unlikely ally to free them.

Features:

H.P. Lovecraft, Crowley kidnapping Ben and Lisa, torturing a bunch of demons to death, Balthazar confronting Cas, Bobby’s monster ex-girlfriend, Lisa getting possessed, Dean taking John’s parenting style, wiping Lisa and Ben’s memories.

My Thoughts:

This is an episode made for the Deangirls and I’m here for it. All I need is for my favourite guy to get absolutely brutally emotionally wrecked for 40 minutes and I’m happy. 

I didn’t realize how early it was in the show that all the writers collectively agreed that it was fine to Dean to torture a bunch of demons even though there’s a whole damn episode on how it’ll cause irreparable damage to his psyche and his soul. So that part is no good for me. However, the star-crossed-lovers aspects of them fighting on different sides but Cas still appearing in time to save his life and heal Lisa is extremely delicious. Both of them care about each other so much, but not enough to abandon their own side. That’s the stuff of tragedy. 

I would also like to point out a delightful parallel in Cas saying “you’re just a man. I’m an angel,” to Dean in TMWWBK and Ellie telling Bobby “You’re just a man” after they’d been talking about their explicitly romantic relationship. 

I love the scene where Dean goes to say goodbye to Ben and Lisa. It’s absolutely gorgeous writing to have Dean ostensibly apologizing about losing control and hitting them in a car accident after he’s just slapped Ben and forced him into a hunter role that he wasn’t prepared for, and after he metaphorically crashed into their lives and brought monsters and demons with him. 

Notable Lines:

“Dean, I do everything that you ask. I always come when you call, and I am your friend. Still, despite your lack of faith in me, and now your threats, I just saved you, yet again. Has anyone but your closest kin ever done more for you?”

“Thank you. I wish this changed anything.” “I know. So do I.”

“I'm Dean. I'm the guy who hit you. I just, I lost control for a minute, and I just wanted to say that I'm sorry.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 9.1

IMdB Rating: 8.6

6x22: The Man Who Knew Too Much

Written by: Eric Kripke

Directed by: Robert Singer

Original air date: May 20, 2011

Plot Synopsis:

The wall comes down in Sam's head and all hell breaks loose. Dean and Bobby are, for once, at a total loss on how to help him and are forced to stand by and do nothing while Sam breaks. The battle for heaven comes to a head.

Features:

Sam’s amnesia, Cas breaking Sam’s wall, Sam running around through his own memories, confronting the soulless version of yourself, Cas renegotiating the terms of the deal, the part of Sam that remembers Hell, killing Balthazar, demons flipping the Impala, Crowley leaving Cas for Raphael, Cas atomizing Raphael, Sam stabbing Cas in the back, 

My Thoughts:

I really like the format of the first part of this episode. It does feel really epic, really interesting, and definitively finale-worthy. I love seeing Sam have to make the conscious decision to reintegrate the parts of himself that he’s scared of. Also, El Sol in the background of the bar where he meets Robin - he’s trapped in a false reality. The first 10 minutes or so really reminded me of Born Under a Bad Sign, when Sam was possessed by Meg and she faked amnesia after a killing spree. 

It’s a little wild how attached I was to Balthazar when I first got in to Supernatural, how sad I was when he died, versus how often I remember him as a character these days. I guess that’s the price of a show running for 15 years. Regardless, his death was very great. I love it lighting up the whole building. 

In retrospect, I think I really like season 6? Which is not something I would have considered possible when starting this project. Even though I do think it struggles with the narrative compared to seasons 4 and 5, it’s wildly well-maintained compared to seasons 9 and 10, and the coming together of the civil war and the purgatory plotlines is well done. 

Robert Singer’s terrible zooms did ruin that last beat of the episode, though. 

Notable Lines:

“Now, what's the matter, Raphael? Somebody clip your wings?”

“Listen, I know there's a lot of bad water under the bridge, but we were family once. I'd have died for you. I almost did a few times. So if that means anything to you... Please. I've lost Lisa, I've lost Ben, and now I've lost Sam. Don't make me lose you too.”

“'m not an angel anymore. I'm your new God. A better one. So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord. Or I shall destroy you.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 9.1

IMdB Rating: 9.0

9x23: Do You Believe in Miracles?

Written by: Jeremy Carver

Directed by: Thomas J. Wright

Original air date: May 20, 2014

Plot Synopsis:

The influence of the mark on Dean reaches new heights, as Metatron begins to reveal himself to humanity.

Features:

Metatron going viral, Crowley desperately trying to seduce Dean, heaven’s playground, the love of the masses, Gadreel’s suicide, broadcasting your villain monologue, howling at the moon.

My Thoughts:

As an episode I guess this one is relatively fine? The only parts that I really get excited about are Cas draping himself in the flag of Heaven and the very last scene. 

Gadreel sacrificing himself to save Cas and Heaven is objectively the perfect way for his character progression to end, but unfortunately the writing of his character and the actor playing him fail to make me care about him so it didn’t have the impact that it wanted to have. 

I wish the battle where Dean was killed by Metatron was a bit more epic - maybe it doesn’t hit as hard when I’m also taking notes on my laptop while watching it. At the very least, Dean looks good covered in blood and in pinky-red lighting, so that’s a win. 

The last scene is great for Drowley lovers, although the silhouette of him standing in the door with his long coat does initially make it ambiguous whether it’s Cas or Crowley watching over his dead body. I do remember absolutely losing my mind at the black eyes when this episode first aired - it’s a shame they do so little with Demon Dean in season 10, because in retrospect it just doesn’t excite me the way that it should. 

Notable Lines:

You never get tired of the rat race? Never get the urge to just...bugger off and howl at the moon? Never ask yourself, ‘is this it? Is this all there is?’”

“To save Dean Winchester. That was your goal, right? I mean, you draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human, right?”

“Open your eyes, Dean. See what I see. Feel what I feel. And let's go take a howl at that moon.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 6.2

IMdB Rating: 9.3

10x23: Brother's Keeper

Written by: Jeremy Carver

Directed by: Phil Sgriccia

Original air date: May 20, 2015

Plot Synopsis:

Dean comes to a stunning decision that will alter his life -- as well as Sam's; Rowena and Crowley face off, putting Castiel in the middle.

Features:

The Fan Fiction version of Carry on Wayward Son, less-than-functional alcoholism, wildly unnecessary misogyny, Dean seeing Cas in a motel bathroom mirror, summoning Death, the chain of the Mark of Cain, Oskar the immortal Polish boy, killing Death, rabid Cas, removing the Mark and releasing the Darkness.

My Thoughts:

This is the episode that made me so annoyed I gave up on Supernatural (I thought) forever in 2015!

At the time the thing that annoyed me the most was killing Death, a character that I loved, in service of the same emotional plot they’d used over and over at that point. @meg3point0 and I actually started yelling and swearing at the TV when we watched it when it first aired. 

I do like a few scenes quite a lot - particularly the scene where Dean destroys the motel room after seeing Cas and Rudy in the mirror as the completely immoral and unforgivable things he’d done under the influence of the Mark. I thought Crowley’s confrontation with Rowena and monologue about how she was incapable of loving him was quite good, Mark Sheppard is great at that sort of scene. 

There are two major pacing issues in this episode, and that’s with Oskar and the darkness. We met Oskar in one previous episode very briefly and with no connection to Rowena, so there’s no inherent emotion in her sacrifice of him for her own freedom. Ruthie acts the scene magnificently, of course, but in terms of the writing his death just doesn’t matter to me. The Darkness has the same problem; its very first mention is in this episode moments before it becomes the new Big Bad. Generally I like Carver, but that’s a pretty big error as showrunner; you’d think he would have learned from Sera Gamble’s mistakes with the leviathans’ introduction. It needed to be alluded to earlier to be a compelling villain - maybe if it had been, I would have watched season 11 long enough to make it to Baby and been hooked back in to the show permanently. 

Also, there’s a lot of really unnecessary misogyny that I didn’t care for. I get that they’re trying to show the effect of the Mark on Dean, but it would have been just as effective as showing him with a general contempt for humanity as a whole without calling a dead teenager a whore. Plus so much of what made the Mark interesting is how he convinced himself he was doing the right thing and what made him angry enough for it to take over so often being people he cared about getting hurt. When the scene with the dead girl started and he clenched his fist I thought he was pissed she’d been killed, but instead he was just gross. 

And then, after having watched all of season 11 and Amara’s obsession with Dean, Dean wasn’t even the one who released her - Sam and Cas and Rowena were. There could have been some great parallels to Ruby if she’d been obsessed with Sam, and I think we all would have one if she’d been into Rowena. 

Notable Lines:

“Everyone loves something.”

“Before there was light, before there was God and the archangels, there wasn't nothing. There was the Darkness.”

“All my long life, I wondered what I'd done to deserve a mother who refused to show love. [...] Then one day, epiphany struck. My mother was incapable of loving anything. For the first time in hundreds of years, I felt free. And then you showed up in my dungeon, we communed, and I began to realize you weren't incapable of love. You're incapable of loving me.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 5.6

IMdB Rating: 9.1

In Conclusion: One episode remains…..

<< Previous Day  |  Next Day >>

[axther]

devil may cry

@tspice283​, @dreamydryads​, @hawks-senseis​, @unbreakableeiji​, and @ererokii​

ly queens mwah 

for sera - tama angst 

There were some things that Tamaki Amajiki could do. 

He could fight villains that made him bleed and yell and scream. He could work side by side with pro-heroes that made him feel small and ashamed. But he could never understand how he managed to fall in love with YN. 

Don’t get him wrong. She was loveable, someone so tangible that he could possibly hold her in his hands. But she would just run through like sand, disappearing into the sky. She was a free spirit, running as she willed and never pausing a moment. It only suited her; a quirk that allowed her to manifest a demonic motorbike and speed off faster than Tamaki could blink. 

Chevalier, she called it. 

There was even one time where Tamaki was running late to school (why, he couldn’t quite remember) and she swerved up next to him with a grin that would make the devil shiver. 

“Get on!” She was nearly yelling over the noise, revving the engine a bit. “I’ll make sure you’re early.” 

Tamaki got on after a minute of deliberation, and suddenly it was like the ground underneath him was swept from under his feet. His hands found YN’s waist immediately, shrieking and clinging her to her back. “D-don’t go so fast!” “What, you wanna be late?!” She yelled, and he could hear the devil-may-care grin plastered on her face. “Don’t worry! I won’t crash-yet!” “Yet?!” 

Tamaki arrived at school ten minutes early, of course, with fear on his face and his hair so ruffled that even Kirishima commented on it. YN swerved off with little more than a goodbye, gone like a gust of hot summer wind. He could only gasp as though an angel had dropped and disappeared. 

Tamaki never really realised just how little YN seemed to care for herself. Even in training, she used her whole body as an extension of Chevalier, ripping and tearing with little regard for her surroundings. It destroyed and caused absolute chaos to enemy and ally alike, and Tamaki would even think it was fair to say that it was cruel. It had no emotion and simply tore through ranks, regardless of who they were. It was like YN was reigning in a terrible, destructive steed every time she summoned it. 

But nonetheless. Tamaki didn’t understand how he fell in love with her. 

She was the complete opposite of what he was in every vein. Even being around her triggered his anxiety for a variety of reasons. She somehow created a deep, full well of every emotion that Tamaki had suppressed for so long. It was anger, regret, love, sorrow, everything pooling into one spot. 

And he knew it was going to burst. When, where, how, he wasn’t sure. Just that it would. 

“Alright everyone, when I say lean, you fucking lean.” 

Tamaki and Kirishima were on Chevalier. He was sandwiched between the two; a cruel joke, if he said so himself. They were on a mission, but Tamaki’s mind was so foggy that he wasn’t sure what for. He could smell whatever deodorant YN put on, and it was clouding his senses. Chevalier rumbled pleasantly under his thighs, and YN had a grip on the handles. There was a storm looming overhead, and several villains loomed in the horizon. 

“To be clear, we are trying to get hit.” She laughed, rumbling like the bike, and it rang against his chest like a fire. 

“That’s not even funny!” Kirishima was chuckling, even, but Tamaki couldn’t bring himself to laugh. 

“I don’t wanna get hit…” He murmured, leaning a bit closer into YN’s back. 

“You guys will be fine.” She sounded ridiculously confident, despite what she said. “When I say lean, y’all lean and then get off.” “What?” Tamaki whimpered, but before he could say anything more, YN took off. The wind rushed past them, and it was like gravity or traction had nothing on them. It was smooth, like siding on ice. It seemed like only a second before YN reared up against him and he felt the bike begin to tip over. “Lean!” At once, he was thrown off and onto the concrete. There was a horrible burst that rang in his ears, and it made him whimper before he was able to rise. A wave of heat hit his face as he watched Chevalier burst, splitting into two. Kirishima rushed forward as YN shakily stood, grabbing the parts and thrusting them forward. They revved up, and out forged two spikes. 

Weapons. Just like her. 

Tamaki stood and started rushing towards them, only to be cut off by a wild gust of wind. A villain ran up to him, and he heard YN give a heaving sigh. She was bleeding, bruised, and a bit of her hair was on fire, but she shook it out with a victorious grin and started throwing the two parts around like they were baseball bats. Villains were being swept left and right and she was hurling them about. She looks ready to collapse, and she was still fighting. 

Tamaki realised she didn’t care about herself. 

She was flinging it all like she was killing God, giving everything she could. She was bleeding, she could die, and she was having fun. “Eyes on the enemy, Tama!” She called with a wink before launching a villain into an organic food store. Tamaki smacked away someone without thinking. The battle was a blur, his head full of the one girl that didn’t care if she lived or died. 

All she wanted was to fight. 

“Why d-do you do that…?” 

It was the aftermath. Some stores were still on fire from Chevalier’s burst, and YN was getting bandaged up. Her arms and face were covered in white cloth, and when she turned to look at Tamaki with a smile, all he could really see was her teeth and eyes. 

“Huh? Whaddya mean?” 

“You just…” He paused. Maybe it wasn’t his place to ask. Maybe it wasn’t his issue. But then he saw red seep through on her cheek. “You don’t care.” “What?” She smirked, confused. “I do care.” 

“No, you don’t. Not about you.” 

Her face fell, and her mouth dropped open a bit. 

“I...you didn’t...listen.” Her brow furrowed. “It’s none of your business.” “I...but I’m worried.” Tamaki let his head hang, but YN  just kept on frowning. 

“It’s not gonna kill me.” “It could. I...I d-don’t want you to die.” A bit of Tamaki seemed to die when he admitted it, but when he saw YN look at the ground, he felt his nerves steel for once in his life. “I’m scared you will.” 

“Why?” YN’s voice was a bit sharp, though shaky, and Tamaki realised that he was crossing a line he shouldn’t have even been close to. 

“Because it’s stupid.” He whispered, hoping she didn’t hear. “Excuse me?” 

“Why don’t you care about yourself?” 

“Because, if I don’t, I won’t be remembered.” Her voice dropped and she rose. “And sometimes, having a fancy quirk is enough.” 

“I don’t have a fancy quirk.” Tamaki’s voice didn’t rise, but he felt offended. “I just know how to use it.” “Oh?” YN’s head bobbed a bit, and instantly he could see how he said the wrong thing. 

“I didn’t mean it like that-!” With a flash, she summoned Chevalier. It was together as one at her side, and she ripped off the bandages. She was still wounded, still bloody, but it was all to the point that she looked like some sort of angry goddess., with her  

“Don’t try to catch up.” She bit, straddling the seat and putting her feet on the pedals. The exhaust lit up with purple fire, and Tamaki stumbled back to avoid getting burned. “Let me learn how to use my quirk, since you clearly are so knowledgeable on yours.” 

Tamaki could only babble as she sped off, smoke and the smell of burning tire filling his nose. 

He wasn’t sure what happened after. There was maybe five minutes of stunned silence before he heard someone scream, a yell, a crash. Several medics rushed off, and there was a cry for help before Tamaki suddenly had the sense to see what the hell happened. He rushed forward, and god. 

Oh god. 

Before him was a wreck, unlike anything he had ever seen. There was some sort of fancy car, one that was decimated. Some sort of snobby looking man was standing outside of it, hands up in the air with a frustrated look. There was fire, all too familiar, purple fire, and it was everywhere. It overtook Tamaki’s senses. People were yelling. His head was swimming “I didn’t run the light!” “Bullshit!” “That shit was yellow!” “That means to fucking slow down!” 

“Where is she?!” “Fuck! Where’s the kid!?” 

“Find her!” “It’s not my fault!” 

“Oh my god!” 

Tamaki turned his head, slowly, and he saw the parts of Chevalier. It wasn’t just in two; it was everywhere, having effectively exploded into large chunks, shards, even. There was rubble as it looked like it had been tossed into a wall, with portions of the concrete having fallen into the street. Tamaki stumbled forward, pulled forward as though in a daze. 

Then he saw her. 

She was splayed out against the rubble, arms out and twisted in the ugliest ways. Her hair was everywhere, and there was blood staining the stone. It dripped down her face, but her eyes were shut. Had it not been for the chaos and the company of death, Tamaki would’ve even thought she was asleep. 

“No…” He finally managed to trip over himself and over to YN, crippling onto his knees as he bowed before her. It was like he was praying, hoping before some sort of image of a lost god. 

But she was no god. And she was lost, ripping out of life’s grip. “No!” He bellowed, holding his arms out and gripping her close. She dangled like a doll in his arms, her own arms flopping. 

“He found her!” Someone rushed forward, a medic, but Tamaki held her tighter than ever. “Son, let go!” “No! No! I can’t! This is my fault! She died, and it’s my fault!” “Son, this isn’t your fault-” “Don’t call me son!” He was weeping, holding her head to his chest. “And don’t you dare try to take her!” “She needs help!” “She’s gone,” Tamaki whimpered, his voice dropping and growing hoarse. “I made her leave.” 

“Tamaki!” Kirishima rushed forward but froze at the sight of YN. “No way…” “She’s gone,” Tamaki was rocking himself and YN, not caring about the blood. 

“Tamaki…” Kirishima knelt, gently touching YN’s bloody arm. “Tamaki, let go.” “I can’t.” His voice hock and wavered, cracking under the weight of what he had done. 

“They need to get her to her family.” “But she-!” “Tamaki.” Kirishima whispered. “Let her go.” 

“I love you,” Tamaki cried, placing her nose against his and letting his tears run down and wash off the blood. “I love you.”  

[fragenherrdoktor]

Hello, yes, hi, hello your headcanons are amazing, and i know u said you're backed up with asks so this is just me adding to the pile: headcanons for Captain? owo

Oh, Captain. For brevity, I'm just going to call him Hans like most fans.

We're introduced to Hans in The Dawn, and on sight, Alucard clocks him as a genuine werewolf. I think Hans is incredibly old, and the last of his kind, as Alucard states. I imagine he was born centuries before (maybe Germanic or Norse in origin) and was a warrior or a criminal. We see him with a wolf's head sometimes. The Old English word wulfeshēafod/Middle English wolfesheved which meant to pursue an outlaw.

Hans is the most stoic out of all the Mill members. Everyone else is incredibly gleeful about the harm they are causing, but never Hans. In some panels, he looks extremely attentive or focused, but he never has the manic grin nearly everyone else in Hellsing (all sides included) displays at some point, which leads me to think that the man. Doesn't. Want. To. Be. There. 

His outfit means he's a high ranking officer. Still, he's wearing the Afrika Korps uniform (who were pretty much the only section of the German Army who didn't commit horrific atrocities during the war.) So that further makes me believe he either doesn't want to be part of Millennium or is different from the rest of them. Also, the Totenkopf is drawn wrong on him but is correct on all the other SS officers. Which also seems like another tip that him being there is not by choice. But that's entirely speculation since the man never says a word. 

Hans has opportunities to cause more death but doesn't. He wounds Heinkel by shooting her in the cheek and offers a first aid kit to her, which is a stark contrast to how Walter murders Yumiko without a second thought. He could also stop Integra from going to see Major but doesn't. This makes me think the man doesn't enjoy absolute destruction like his colleagues and only performs actions he's explicitly ordered to do, sort of like Alucard. For example, he only attacks Walter after being ordered in Dawn.

He also sort of tries to communicate with Heinkel by shaking his head, which can be interrupted as "Don't interrupt the battle between Alucard and Walter." He also points Integra in the Major's direction for their final battle. The fact that he doesn't ever say anything, even when trying to communicate with others, makes me think that man is entirely mute. 

There's just so much werewolf mythology. You can really make whatever backstory you want from him because the canon is limited. In Hellsing lore, becoming a monster means forsaking your humanity. Hans was probably near death (like Alucard and Major) and did...something to forever alter himself. I imagine either eating human flesh or drinking blood or water out of a paw print from the ground to save his life, thus cursing him with lycanthropy.

There's a long history of killing werewolves during various witch trials throughout the middle ages. I think Hans managed to escape with his skin, but any other werewolves like him were killed over the centuries. I feel like Hans is a living relic Millennium was able to capture somehow, not unlike how Abraham enslaved and tossed Alu in his basement. 

Hans seems incredibly loyal, but also wants to die in battle. He leads Seras to a treasure room filled with piles of stolen gold and other precious metals to fight, putting himself at a direct disadvantage. Like, the man all but GIVES Seras the silver tooth that ends his life, even though it's technically Pip who stabs him with it. If that doesn't scream, "I don't want to fucking be a part of this, please end me." I don't know what does?

The only time we see Hans smile is when he dies. The way he immediately follows orders and only seems to act when told coupled with his happiness at dying in battle makes me think he's a lot like Alucard: he's Mills supernatural servant who wants to die in battle to a worthy opponent. And just like how Alucard was captured, I think Hans was too. Like Alu, I don't think Hans has much agency and is bound in servitude to Major/Mill. 

While I believe Hans is mute, I think he can read and write several languages. I imagine he uses writing and a made-up sign language to communicate with the other Mill members. I don't think anyone in Mill would even think of learning actual sign language, and he created his own to get his point across. He'll gesture, write across your palm letter by letter, or use whatever is around (paper, whiteboard, chalkboard, etc.)

[shift-shaping]

41 and 43 for the ask meme?

lol i decided to do all of them instead

re: the lioness and the wolf

under cut

50 Questions to ask about your romance

Why do they care about each other? They begin with mutual admiration, then trust, then a sort of faith in each other's abilities that quickly turns allies into friends and finally lovers. She is disarming and clever and brave and (despite her own opinion of herself) very wise. He is compassionate and intelligent and world-weary, with a weight of guilt about him that Eirwen recognizes in herself.

Why should your reader care about them? They have a mature, reasonable, yet still complex relationship built on mutual respect and admiration and also have very good sex.

How do their friends feel about their relationship? Adaar, Dagna, and Cole (probably the people closest to them in Skyhold) are all supportive. Adaar is very happy for them and Cole likes how happy they make each other.

How do their families feel? Morrigan is the closest thing Eir has to family and she is not a fan of Solas. She didn't like Alistair either, though. I honestly don't know that she'd like any romance option for Eir because she is the sibling that immediately dislikes any of her sister's dates because 'men are stupid' and so is any woman Eirwen would be interesting in. If Eirwen's parents were alive they would definitely think Solas is too old for her (correct!) but otherwise find him neat.

What do they dislike about each other? Solas is absolutely baffled by how often Eirwen puts herself in serious danger and generally acts with little regard for her wellbeing. 'You throw yourself into battle like it's a duty', or something. She is frustrated by his tendency to be patronizing and to pick fights with Morrigan.

What do they argue about? Wardens, Solas being racist/out of touch/condescending, Eirwen making bad life decisions

What do they do together? Talk and talk and talk and wander around and drink wine and talk some more and light something on fire.

How often do they have sex? As often as Solas can handle because Wardens Fuck.

What is their sexual dynamic? Both are switches, but Solas leans more dominant and Eir is very happy either way.

Who initiates sex most often? Eirwen.

How physically affectionate are they? Very, though more in the sense of holding hands for a quick moment, standing close to each other, gossiping in the back of the party, etc. as opposed to literally hanging off each other all the time.

How do they act in public Vs in private? In public they are fairly mature and restrained. In private it does not take long for sex to start happening only to get interrupted by more talking.

What is their favourite kind of kiss? Solas loves kissing her hairline/forehead and she loves kissing his cheek. Both find each other's preferred kiss silly but love it anyway.

Who gets their way most often? It would probably seem like Solas does but Eirwen is just not that opinionated and usually gives up on arguments pretty quickly. When she does want something, she always gets it.

Where was their first date? Fighting a dragon in the Dirth Getting sad in the garden Getting trapped in the Fade Being petty in Halamshiral I'm not actually sure lol

How often do they go on dates? They go places and do dumb shit together often but I think their dreams are more like dates. So, very often.

Do they live together? Sort of. He spends a lot of time in her room because as far as I can fucking tell Solas does not actually have quarters in Skyhold and just sleeps on that ratty old couch like a loser. She has a bed, at least.

How long was their flirting phase? Several months, thereabouts.

How do they sleep when they're together? She CLINGS in their sleep and just puts most of her weight on him. He is so touch-starved that he usually just lets her unless she's cutting off his circulation.

Who is the most clingy? Physically, Eirwen. Emotionally, Solas.

Do they steal each others clothes? Not really, but I could see them doing it. If she had a particularly nice hat or something that she wasn't using I could see him taking it if he needed extra warmth. She'd definitely put on his shirt or something just to turn him on (which would work, because he's a pervert).

What petty opinions do they not agree on? Solas wants like six tablespoons of sugar in his coffee as well as creamer and Eirwen thinks it's fucking disgusting even though she has a sweet tooth, too. He also definitely likes red velvet cake and she thinks it's dumb. They agree that cream cheese frosting is incredible. Solas isn't into the concept of keeping an animal as a pet (he likes animals, just not pets) but Eirwen would definitely keep a shit ton of rescue critters if she could. She LOVES birds and would never remove a nest no matter how inconvenient, but the second one shits on his head he'd move it himself.

Why did they choose each other? Mutual respect, admiration, and intense physical attraction. She loves his arms and he loves her... everything (but definitely her breasts and butt, although he would never say that to anyone except her). Like if he were at the Hanged Man and Varric or Bull tried to push him on talking about sex with her he would not elaborate beyond it being good and happening often, and even that would be cloaked in implication. Even with a decent amount of alcohol he wouldn't say more than that she's beautiful. She, meanwhile, would immediately tell Sera he has a huge dick and is extremely good at oral, which would probably make Sera physically ill.

What is their biggest problem? She's dying and he's himself.

How do their jobs/education affect their relationship? lol. This would take a really long time to answer in full but it's hopefully clear in the story. He thinks it sucks that she's a Warden and that she had to go through the abuse of the Circle but knows she'd be a very different person otherwise. She's doing her best to parse through him being Fen'Harel because her frame of reference for elven culture is minimal. As members of the Inquisition, it brought them together and means she has her own quarters for them to bone in.

Do they share the same music taste? They would both definitely love a good fiddle.

Why did they meet? She was dying (a theme) and he rescued her and healed her. Interestingly, this was almost immediately after Wisdom died.

If they aren't together yet, why not?

What if the biggest challenge they have to overcome? Spoilers spoilers lol.

What is their most noticeable physical difference? She's very dark-skinned and he's fairly pale. Also, she has lots of lovely hair and he has none lol.

What are their opinions on marriage? Eirwen thinks it's dumb and Solas is indifferent because I imagine marriage was probably weird in elvhenan. But they'd do something informal to express their intentions of being together for a very long time. And Eirwen would be into the tax benefits.

What are their opinions on children? Neither of them has any interest in children of their own but they're both neutral on kids as a concept. I think Eirwen probably sees them more as tiny adults, though.

Is their relationship healthy? Why/why not? Yes. They are open with each other and clear about their wants/needs, or at least as much as possible given plot circumstances.

How do their past relationships affect them? I get the sense that Solas has a probably-unhealthy tendency to (lowkey?) worship those he loves. He probably had very few serious relationships, but I imagine each was monumental for him at the time. He feels very deeply and passionately and any losses he's been through make him want to protect her, which he cannot do. She is constantly reminded of Alistair, of how deeply she loved him and how thoroughly she believes she failed him. She tried for a long time not to get seriously attached to anyone else as a result. With Solas, she is trying to let go of that tendency to keep everyone at a distance.

Do they love each other, or are they in love? Both. He loved her before he was in love with her, but I think both happened for her at the same time.

Why should your readers root for them? They are essentially good people trying their best.

Do they both put an equal amount of effort into the relationship? I think Solas puts in a little more. He worships her, to some extent.

Who do they turn to when their relationship has problems? Themselves. They talk to each other unless it's something REALLY wild and plot-related that requires some inner calculations first.

Who does the most mundane household tasks? Solas in the evening, Eirwen in the morning.

What do they do when the other is mad? Eirwen uses humor to distract him, and if that doesn't work just lets him rant until he tires himself out. She doesn't get angry very often, so I don't know if Solas would have an immediate solution or reaction to her anger, which would lead him to be overly-logical and probably piss her off more. Then he'd feel really fucking bad and let her get it all out before doing whatever he could to make things better. Alternatively, they'd agree on whatever is pissing them off and just rant together and get all shitty until nobody else can stand to be around them. Then they'd fuck.

How do their flaws clash? She's too reckless for him and though he believes she'll be okay there's still a voice in his head that's like 'but what if she's not?' She thinks he's overreacting.

Why do you enjoy writing them? They both have such rich personal histories with fun parallels. They are equals, despite him being who he is, and see each other as such. She asserts her position as his equal in power and intelligence and refuses to let him doubt her capabilities, even in the interest of her own protection. Her wit and confidence ground him. They both need certainty and reassurance that they are more than what others see them as. They make each other feel whole.

What small quirks do they like about each other? From early on she's admired how gentle he can be with his hands even when he's upset. He loves how easily distracted she is by birds and flowers and miscellaneous wildlife and finds her infodumps about various critters extremely endearing.

What would a stranger think if they saw them out together? "Fucking apostates." Or, alternatively: "...Is that the Hero of Ferelden?"

How do they show the other that they love them? Physical affection and 'acts of service' or whatever. Doing little favors for each other and noticing the other's needs before they voice them.

What made them fall in love? Eirwen first felt a hint of something for him when she saw him helping the Vilbirn survivors. He first felt something when she turned into a fucking dragon. Over time, though, it was the slow realization that the other person genuinely cared for them and respected their abilities and experiences that made them truly fall in love.

Have they ever took a break?

What was their biggest fight about? ~*Wardens*~

What do they give as gifts? Food, because they both forget to eat. But also little love notes.

He is well-aware of their animal symbolism and kind of loves it. Like, he would call their story 'the lioness and the wolf' because he's a dramatic moron.

Sera: So, you and droopy?

Eir: Droopy? Hardly.

Sera: What --EWW hahahaha!

[skyeknight-hyperfixations]

Solas on Romances

[First post of this AU]

Solas on Romances

Actually, Solas wouldn’t be romanceable in terms of the Inner Circle. But Esaldir would be. Solas didn’t get along with a number of the Inner Circle members at first, albeit Cassandra, though it was more of professional respect than real rapport between them until much later.

(Esaldir’s sexual preferences are strictly men)

Solas on Esaldir Romances

Solas didn’t like The Iron Bull at first, due to his firm belief on the Qun.

1. The Iron Bull x Esaldir

Actually, Solas thought nothing much of it at first. He thought the younger elf was just humoring the Qunari spy to build rapport and camaraderie. A part of Josephine’s ‘Esaldir’s a people person, and Solas isn’t all that much, but if they like Esaldir who likes Solas they would tolerate him at the very least’ scheme.

Admittedly, Solas was still 50/50 about that set up.

The first time he heard about their relations, through the whispering nobles at Skyhold, he almost had a heart attack. It would definitely explain why he found that Esaldir appeared to be limping more often lately. He thought the young elf was just over-exerting himself in training.

He then finds the Bull and gave him a shovel talk. Bull didn’t think much of it, but he took him seriously. The Inquisitor was important to Esaldir, so he would respect him just enough. Especially with the older elf’s abilities, he could send demons to haunt his nightmares through the thing he does by going through the Fade on will.

When Esaldir found out, he apologized to Bull profusely and had a serious talk with Solas about it.

Solas backed off. But he was more than willing to hit the Qunari spy after what happened in Adamant fortress to help with whatever Ben-Hassrath training discipline to help him his focus back after confronting such a fearful display of demon shite. 

And he didn’t hold back.

2. Dorian x Esaldir

When it came to choosing who would supervise Esaldir in his magical studies when Solas was busy dealing with Inquisitor business, like sitting in judgment or quests requiring his personal attention, Solas left him with Dorian. Between the Tevinter mage and the Knight-Enchantress, he knew which he preferred.

Additionally, and at the very least, the man didn’t firmly believe that absolutely all mages should be put into Circles. In addition, Dorian had more patience in helping Esaldir out in reading finer literature so both he and Varric were seeing that the previously illiterate elf was become more knowledgeable in some art form. Solas tried to teach him painting, but it ended up disastrously with Esaldir almost empaling his hand with the pointed end of the paint brush. He still wasn’t sure how that almost happened.

For a romantic partner though, Solas didn’t like it. He knew that his being with a Vint, even the ‘good’ Vint, was only going to cause complications in the future for them. In absolutely no manner convincing would he ever allow to let Esaldir follow Dorian to the Imperium. And he can’t expect Dorian to remain in their territory forever. 

And he knew long distance relationships didn’t always end well.

But Solas knew he didn’t really have valid authority over Esaldir. If the young elf should choose to continue such relations. He offers his support regardless. Plus, them starting a relationship also stopped Dorian from making as many criticisms to his outfit choices. 

And again, he would rather him than Vivienne any day.

3. Cullen x Esaldir

Esaldir had a crush on Cullen the first time they met since the man had saved him from getting overwhelmed by a demon. So this would be the least surprising relationship he’d find Esaldir getting into.

However, since Cullen was an Ex-Templar, he feared what the Commander of their forces would do should he encounter relapses considering that Esaldir himself was learning how to be a mage from being a rogue, although he would still use bows and arrows more often. It worsened all the more when the Commander confided to him about his Lyrium withdrawal episodes. Surely, he understood the reasons behind Cullen’s decision, but that didn’t make him feel less unsettled about his and Esaldir starting a relationship of sorts.

It certainly didn’t help that back in Haven, initially, the man had rejected the young elf due to his presumed inclinations leaning solely to women.

Still, Solas did trust that Cullen was a good man and that the blond did seem to fear hurting Esaldir more for Esaldir’s sake than incurring Solas’s wrath. Plus, he saw how good they work together. Cullen feeling more at ease, and getting more required sleep at Esaldir’s insistence. The younger elf understood that Cullen would actually have to lose sleep at times, but he was around to dictate where to draw the line. And Esaldir was motivated to take his magic training more seriously in fear of being unable to control it and hurt Cullen in some way, whether that be by triggering the man’s former discriminated fear over mages or simply hurting Cullen by accident with loose magic.

In any case, Solas figured he could have someone worse for a-sort-of-in-law than Cullen. At least the Commander can put up a decent challenge when they play chess.

5. Blackwall x Esaldir

Of all things, this was one relationship development he did not see coming.

To Solas, Blackwall looked old enough to be Esaldir’s father. Granted, that might be due to the amount of hair he lets grow on his face. Personality wise, Esaldir had a playful nature to him, he has to if he could go along with all the pranks Sera does. Blackwall on the other hand was somber at the best of times, broody at the worse. It made sense why the man would find interest with the brighter, much spirited light that is Esaldir. But Solas couldn’t find reason as to why the latter would find interest in the same manner. Balance, perhaps?

Regardless, Solas didn’t find fault in Blackwall’s earnest devotion to fight for their cause and definitely protectively hovering over Esaldir during battle that Solas never had to worry and could focus to his own fight in front of him.

When they all found out about his true identity, it was only due to Esaldir’s pleading that Solas consider to liberate then pardon the man after his deceit for several years posing as a Grey Warden. Initially, he didn’t approve of the continuation of their relationship right after the trial, but eventually, he saw Blackwall partially the way Esaldir saw him. 

A man striving to be better than the one he was and pretended to be. And that effort was to be acknowledged, if not wholly respected.

(I’m just really into the ‘overprotective older sibling/relative’ trope and see Solas having a lot of potential being that way with how he is with Cole, especially after a Cole - Vivienne banter with the bitch accusing Cole of possessing Solas)

[crimsonfluidessence]

Prompt 10: Avail

Content warning: Psychological Warfare and Disturbing Imagery Just when it had long been purged from subconscious memory, Esredes found himself back there. What exactly this space was, he still didn’t know. He merely had the sensation that it was somewhere else, somewhere unnatural, and perhaps he may remember nothing of it whenever it was gone. There was just nothing. A void of nothing all around. Yet somehow, he knew exactly where this was going, and just as he predicted, that thing manifested again. What have you learned? It lead with. Esredes crossed his arms and stood his ground as he looked upon that towering, black form. “I’m not obligated to answer your questions,” he retorted with. “Why should I respond when you ask me a question as if I am a child?” Ah, you truly never do change. It’s almost fascinating. How could a person be hit with so many signs that something is wrong, and still refuse to budge an inch? “There is nothing for me to do.” Esredes retorted. “I already am forced to manifest more patience and goodness in my everyday life than I have any right to be able to conjure. I did what I could. There are worst monsters out there who never suffered an ounce of consequence. What even is it you’d want me to learn? How to not take action? How to not save people?” You, saving people? Oh, Esredes. The thing said. You really still can’t fully grasp the horror of your own actions. And why could you? It’s not like they know better. They would defend you to their last breath, even though you turned them into weapons and festered hatred in their hearts. “An unideal existence is still better than being left as they were.” Esredes retaliated. “What was one to do, leave them as they were? So broken, so nonfunctioning, so lost? They only half knew how to exist, so warped or malformed was their life. Look at them now. Some of them learned how to be people. The others are getting closer. Had I not made that happen, they would all be dead or roaming monsters.” And yet part of you knows. Part of you wishes they had a real, proper person to reach out and care for them. Why instead did it have to be you, a man who can’t love without a cost? A man who loves his tool before he sends it off to battle? “I protected them." You exposed children and abused souls to war who didn’t know any better. People who relied on you, looked to you for guidance- you knew they weren’t made for violence like you, and yet did it ever stop you? It’s perplexing how you could ever point to this as one of your ‘good’ deeds, as proof that you’re capable of love, when it’s one of your worst atrocities.  The thing came closer, black tendrils stretching out. They formed a cage around Esredes, leaving him enclosed in a little space, face to face with it. Remember what he told you before he disappeared, Esredes? He didn’t buy it at all. He could see the dependency, the taint that runs in your love. How fortunate he never needed to find out the full extent of it all… “You don’t understand,” Esredes said, taking a step back and narrowing his eyes up at it. “You don’t understand…" You will never learn how to love like Shiva or anyone else, Esredes. You can’t, you don’t know how, you won’t try. It’s all too complicated for your feeble mind. “You’re the one who’s speaking practically nonsense,” he spat back with venom in his words. Seraphiaux. Esredes stared at it. Alastor. Heilyn. Yulionne. You’re a great shapeshifter, Esredes, you really are. The way you absolutely tore each and every one of these people apart and then blamed it on them, got them to apologize for your actions so you could reward them with love. Most of them were never nice to you at first, but what about Sera? When your love turned to hate, it turned to the most black, unforgiving kind. You wanted to punish that little boy. You took joy in it. And yet, here we are once again. Never could he blame you even when he should have. The cage of tendrils closed in, getting closer and closer. “I apologized to all of them,” Esredes said. “I made up for it, I saved each of them. There’s nothing more to say about it." Do you feel it yet, Esredes? His heart was throbbing in his chest. Hard. It hurt. Yes, he could feel it, but he did not wish to admit it. I hope to see the day that this all falls apart on you, it said. When they all wake up and realize what you truly are beyond what they wish to believe. When they stop believing your half-hearted apologies and efforts to make up. When you can no longer shy away and simply dismiss them as having gotten away. You are a hateful creature, Esredes, and you know this. Why do you have to drag others down in a desperate attempt to escape yourself? Eventually you will end up alone, far away from all the people you’ve ruined. You’ll be alone and suffering the consequences, never able to hurt anyone else again. They’ll be free from you, and better off for it. They’ll speak your name with hatred, and renounce all the scars they have thanks to you, because you needed bodies to fight, because you crushed them with your pathetic attempt at love. Black tendrils burst forth through his chest, spiraling out from his heart. He gasped and stumbled to his knees, unable to find a purchase for his own breathing as it spilled out all around his hands and legs. The air around him filled with the sound of his own voice, hundreds of copies chanting the same thing in unison. Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, don’t leave me, don’t leave me, don’t leave me— Esredes’ whole body shook as he struggled to stay upright. The chanting chorus only grew louder, encasing the entire space in nothing but sound. He reached one hand towards the sky that didn’t exist, fingers curling inward as if to grasp on to something, and then, the chorus stopped, leaving him staring at the void above him and the tendrils covering his chest for but another brief moment. “Please,” he whispered weakly, “don’t leave me.” And then he fell away into the nothingness.

[askdragonagecompanions]

Hey! Can I request how the romances in dai would act with a crush on the Inquisitor please? Thank you!! ❤️❤️

Dorian:

He’s had flings before and that’s what he expects this to be at first. Back in Tevinter that was all you could hope for of course. No need to complicate things with pesky feelings.

The problem is he is already swamped with said pesky feelings. 

He finds himself wondering what kind of books the Inquisitor prefers.

He looks forward to when the Inquisitor will stop by and chat for a while, though internally he’s scolding himself for acting like some schoolboy with his first crush.

Dorian doesn’t really act differently around the Inquisitor. He keeps up his usual flare and casual flirting, but he does worry that the Inquisitor might not be in to him.

Dorian keeps his hopes buried down and won’t even tempt the idea of him and the Inquisitor being together let alone start a relationship

When he’s absolutely positive the Inquisitor isn’t looking at him Dorian likes to watch him. The Inquisitor does have a certain beauty to him after all, not to mention how he’s staying relatively calm during all of this insanity. It’s fascinating.

Solas:

Solas denies his feelings at first. He can’t have a crush on the Inquisitor. He has important work to do that must not be clouded by feelings of all things.

It does not help that the Inquisitor is so interested in the Fade. He finds himself hoping more and more that she’ll come by and ask more questions. He tells himself it’s because no one else will ask questions and it is his favorite subjects after all.

Sometimes he catches himself watching her walk away and feeling sad. It’s confusing. They’re both busy people and have important work to do, he can’t expect her to stay by his side all day. So why does he want her to?

The moment he can’t deny his feelings anymore is when the Inquisitor gets hurt on one of their missions and he feels his heart leap to his throat as he sees her laying unconscious and hurt. He patches her up and just barely restrains himself from hugging her when she opens her eyes again. 

He knows these feelings will complicate everything, but maybe, just maybe he can follow them? for a little while? 

Sera:

Feelings a frigging hard okay? Oh boy the Inquisitor sure is something pretty too look at and that she knows how to deal with but it’s the feelings that make everything more confusin. 

She loves hanging out with the Inquisitor, playing pranks with her, hearing her laugh

Though she’s still a little worried to really trust her. People can hurt you so easy once you let them in and she doesn’t want that to happen.

It’s hard to keep the feelings away though. Inkie is so nice...

Sera’s psyching herself up to admit her feelings when the Inquisitor admits hers first. Sera can’t help but laugh and grin because Maker she felt the same this whole time? 

Iron Bull: 

Bull has had plenty of flings, something to just work the stress and tension out. He knows he’s attractive and he has to admit so is the Inquisitor. It’s natural for two people to want to work out some tension. 

What he wasn’t prepared for were the feelings.

Bull was pretty oblivious to them at first.

It started with Bull hovering near the Inquisitor more during battles. He knows they’re a capable fighter, but he still doesn’t want some rogue demon to catch them while they’re fighting something else.

Then he starts talking about them quite frequently when hanging out with the Chargers, telling them about how amazing the Inquisitor is in battle. 

It isn’t until Krem goes, “Chief you have a crush on the Inquisitor.” that Bull realizes it. And even then he denies it at first and says, “What? No, they’re attractive yes but I’m just admiring their skill.”

It’s the middle of the night when he finally accepts that, “Shit I have a crush on the Inquisitor.”

He’s a professional after all and doesn’t let his feelings complicate how he works with the Inquisitor

But he can’t deny that it was fucking amazing to learn they felt the same way

Blackwall:

Blackwall is also a little thick-skulled when it came to realizing his feelings for the Inquisitor. 

Really he just does a lot of longing stares when the Inquisitor isn’t looking, he’s more easily flustered, but he tries to keep it professional. 

Blackwall doesn’t feel like he’ll have any chance with the Inquisitor so he doesn’t want to get his hopes up. 

Still feelings are a hard thing to push down.

The Inquisitor makes him feel like he can be a good man, and he wants to be for them.

Cassandra:

It’s not that Cassandra doesn’t realize her feelings for the Inquisitor it’s that she actively denies them for the longest time. 

She feels like she has to be a professional and this is a serious situation, there’s no time for the Seeker to chase her feelings for the Inquisitor. They have their own business to deal with and there’s rarely any free time...

Still she can’t help her romantic side and hope that it could be like one of her romance novels. They could fight together and be saviors of Thedas, but she reminds herself this isn’t a novel and people are dying. 

It does not help that the Inquisitor keeps flirting with her and it’s so frustrating, especially when her cheeks betray her and start to blush ever so slightly. It makes the Inquisitor get this stupid little grin on their face, but it is rather cute...

She’s constantly fighting with herself on how to handle these feelings. Deny them or in a lapse of judgement act on them and see where it goes. She has a duty to save Thedas but does that truly mean she can’t take a moment for herself?

Oh and she has a habit of finding herself rather entranced while the Inquisitor is training.

Josephine:

She doesn’t have the opportunity to see the Inquisitor as much as others as her work keeps her quite busy. 

She does enjoy when the Inquisitor takes time out of their day to visit her, they’re very easy to talk to and its nice to have someone who she can talk to and just get everything off her chest.

In her line of work it’s hard to trust someone, but somehow the Inquisitor makes it so easy to trust them. 

When she realizes her feelings she’s thrilled and saddened at the same time. 

At the most it could only be a fling considering her engagement, but she does occupy the idea of letting herself follow those feelings for a little while at least. 

She finds herself thinking about the Inquisitor whenever she’s bored, and she worries quite often when the Inquisitor is on a mission. They are capable and she knows this, but it’s a dangerous world especially in current times. 

When she’s crushing hard she finds herself wishing that the world was easy and that she could just call off the engagement to pursue the Inquisitor truly, but she knows it’s not possible. 

Cullen:

Cullen keeps himself rather busy for many reasons. One is that the troops of the Inquisition need to be taught how to fight correctly or else they’ll never win this fight. The other is to keep himself distracted. Fighting Lyrium addiction is hard and in moments of free time its hard to keep his mind off of that topic. 

Though, slowly thoughts about the Inquisitor begin to invade his mind as well. At first he reasons it’s because they’re kind and that they’re just growing close as friends

It’s when he finds himself suddenly fumbling over his words and blushing when they talk that he realizes those thoughts are accompanied by feelings

He hopes that maybe he could follow these feelings, but with the whole world going to shit he doubts it

They’re very busy people and he doesn’t expect the Inquisitor to take time out of her day just to visit him.

That doesn’t stop his feelings though

When they go on missions he finds himself worrying more and more, the troops and other advisers notice that he starts to grow a little more irritable when the Inquisitor is gone as well

Its hard to ignore how the Commander brightens up when the Inquisitor comes home 

He does his best to be professional but Leliana put it best, “It’s like he’s a lovesick puppy, rather adorable.”

He loves seeing the Inquisitor smile

It takes him the longest time to build up the courage to admit his feelings to the Inquisitor and he’s very awkward about it, but it’s part of his charm

[smutnug]

Day 10: Surprise kiss

Owen Trevelyan had always been fascinated by magic: as a boy he pored over illustrations of griffons and dragons, devouring folk tales of witches and enchantments and talking animals.

"You shouldn't let him read that nonsense," his mother said. "He'll turn into a mage."

Bann Trevelyan peered over his spectacles - the finest in dwarven craftsmanship - and blinked mildly. "I'm quite sure that's not how it works."

"How will he ever be a templar? He won't know which side he's on."

"I don't think it's supposed to be about sides, dear."

Lady Trevelyan sniffed. "I see where he gets it from."

Thankfully for his mother, Owen's sense of adventure extended to a love of swords and rough-and-tumble play. A dutiful but indifferent Andrastian, he was considered too old at ten for templar training, but utterly unsuited to clerical work.

"We'll send him out to squire. It will do him good to be around boys his own age."

Owen had been a late addition: a surprise, or an accident, depending on his mother's mood. She looked at her youngest son doubtfully. "I just don't want him to be bullied."

"Stop bullying him then, dear." The bann returned to his book.

Squiring agreed with Owen exceptionally well.

"The duke is happy with his progress," said Bann Trevelyan over his morning letters. "Very popular with the other boys, evidently."

Lady Trevelyan choked genteelly on her tea. "Not too popular, I hope."

Her husband peered over his spectacles. "You're a hard woman to please, dear."

Owen returned home to Ostwick in his eighteenth year. Described variously as strapping, honourable to a fault, affable, and a host of other complimentary things, he had distinguished himself in tourneys and skirmishes alike. He was, everyone agreed, a credit to his house.

Lady Trevelyan looked her son up and down. Tall and broad with a mop of straw-coloured hair and a radiant grin, he was already gaining a reputation as the handsomest youth in Ostwick.

She pursed her lips.

They held a ball to celebrate his homecoming. Owen danced every dance, no more than once or twice with the same partner. People seemed drawn to him.

"I wish you wouldn't lead those poor girls on, Owen."

He looked down at his mother with a mock-wounded expression. "What makes you think I'm leading them on, mother dear?"

"Oh, Owen."

He laughed and kissed her on the cheek, and she couldn't help but smile.

Owen Trevelyan loved magic. He walked the streets of Haven with a grin, his cheeks ruddied by the cold. Mages, real mages, everywhere he looked! Some were half-starved, some surly, many too nervous to look anyone in the eye, but to him they may as well have been exotic butterflies.

"Is it true a dragon used to live here?" he asked the tavern keeper.

"That's what they say, ser," she said with a shrug.

"How wonderful!" he said, and tipped her richly enough that she forgave him for being a bit strange, and wondered if he were single.

He was. Lady Trevelyan had farewelled him with a kiss, a thick woollen scarf, and a murmured, perhaps you'll meet a nice man over there.

For you, mother, I'll try, he'd answered, and swept her into a bone-crushing hug.

He hadn't spent the past five years idle. He'd served in his father's guard, with such distinction that any suggestions of nepotism were quickly abandoned. He'd helped strengthen trade agreements with Markham and Ansburg, and turned down half a dozen marriage contracts with such charm that nobody felt any offense (but more than one young lady was left a touch disappointed). He bested some of the best fighters in the Free Marches at tourney. And, of course, he read.

None of this entirely prepared him for what was to come.

Owen Trevelyan loved magic - that didn't mean he wanted a mysterious, sometimes bad-humoured magical mark embedded in his hand. He loved the idea of dragons, but there was nothing exciting about having one attack his home. The novelty of demons wore off at his first encounter.

He loved magic; and while it didn't cross into fetish, it wouldn't be true to say he'd never thought of having a mage lover. There was a certain exotic, star-crossed romance to it after all.

Dorian, though…Dorian was something else altogether.

Smooth, flashy, witty…beautiful. Every visible inch seemed perfectly sculpted. His voice was richer than mead, his skin almost seemed to glow with warmth. For all Owen's romanticism, he didn't believe in love at first sight. But his first sight of Dorian…well, it took a man a while to recover from something like that.

Every ounce of charm Owen could throw at him was returned with double the force. He slashed, he parried, but it seemed Dorian didn't even know he was part of a duel. The mage shielded himself in sarcasm and cast wit like fireballs, all without so much as a sheen of sweat forming on his perfect brow.

A lesser man might have given up. Not Owen Trevelyan. He believed in magic.

"New books?" Dorian exclaimed. "Just when I thought my brain was about to wither and die."

"Our budget has allowed for some arcane study," Owen said, nearly dropping an armful of priceless tomes.

"Stop right there," Dorian ordered, "and let me help you. Why?"

"The advisors thought it might help me to have more knowledge of magical…things. I was hoping you might help me choose some good starting material?"

His eyes lit up like a glutton at a feast. "If you promise to take better care of them. I absolutely forbid you to carry more than three at a time."

"As you wish," Owen said with a winning smile.

"Dorian." Owen slid into a seat at the Herald's Rest. "I've been meaning to ask you - just how closely related are we?"

The mage took a sip of his drink, wrinkling his nose in elegant disgust. "I'd hardly say closely. Barely at all, and even then only by marriage."

"Oh. Good."

"Good?" Dorian swivelled in his chair. "I suppose you're right. The shame of being linked to a Tevinter mage, and all that."

"Dorian." Owen drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "I've travelled, you know. I've fought in battles. I've made love. I know you think I'm some over-excited puppy, but I want you to take me seriously."

"Where did this come from? I do take you seriously, dear boy."

"Dorian," he said a third time. "I'd like you to take me seriously. Because I take you seriously." Rising from his chair, he gave Dorian a backslap that soaked his mustaches in sour wine. "Good talking to you."

When the Inquisitor had gone, Sera stuck her head over the railing.

"Oi!" she called. "You, Dorian, are a frigging idiot."

Owen found Dorian leaning against the wall of the Gull and Lantern, staring at his finely tailored boots.

"I suppose you think I should forgive him?"

He joined him, tilting his face towards the sun. "I think it's up to you. Say the word and we'll leave now, and I'll never talk of it again if you don't want me to."

"But…?"

"But if you want to talk, even to say goodbye, I'll wait here."

Dorian looked at him for a long moment, then clasped his arm. "I won't be long."

"As long as you want."

"Thank you," he said softly, and straightened his spine. Then he opened the tavern door, and closed it quietly behind him.

The kiss came as a surprise to nobody but Dorian.

"You have to fight for what's in your heart," he said, and Owen couldn't help but take those two steps and kiss him.

The setting was perfect: Dorian's little corner of the library, filtered afternoon light streaming through the windows. Softer than Owen had dreamed of, gentler (although harder kisses were to come, later; rough, savage, stolen-in-the-midst-of-wrestling kisses) and sweeter by far than his imagination could conjure. He captured Dorian's small sound of surprise with his mouth, then Dorian caught his bottom lip carefully between his teeth, and only one word crystallised in the back of his mind as they melted together, two halves finally whole.

Magic.

[drinkyourfuckingmilk]

What kind of stuff are you hoping for in DA4?

- ideally I want the inquisitor to be the protag because despite what bioware was going for, it really does NOT feel like the inquisitors story is wrapped up and it feels like such a loss of all the important history they have with solas given he’s going to be the main antagonist of the game. but I’ll also settle for a new protag w/ the inquisitor as an adviser alongside dorian. so long as the inquisitor plays an important role, whether they romanced solas or not. 

- dorian as a companion or an adviser too since, you know, the game will be set in his homeland and he’s now a magister.

- cole popping up and kinda of serving as an inadvertent mediator between solas and the protag/inquisitor. 

- tevinter slave rebellions led by “agents of fen’harel”

- FENRIS (I mean, come on, he’s a former elven slave from tevinter, the setting of this game is basically tailor-made for his character). 

- if you played as lavellan, it’d be interesting if there’s any suggestion that lavellan went around to their clan (if they survived in inquisition) and the other dalish clans to warn them about solas’ plans, since they may be infiltrated by his spies or swayed by the elven restoration propaganda. given the dalish’s inherent distrust of fen’harel, it’d be interesting if lavellan could somehow unite the dalish clans against him after revealing the real consequences of solas’ plan. 

- one or two escaped evanuris (either falon’din or andruil because solas seems to hate those fuckers most) wreaking havoc. this would be fun as hell, but also an escaped evanuris could serve as like a big ol strawman argument for everything that was wrong with ancient arlathan which could influence solas’ decision. like if the evanuris also wanted to destroy thedas, and solas suddenly see’s himself in these old murderous bastards, it’s the kind of introspective shit he’s such a slut for, and might give him pause in his plans. And these remnants of ancient arlathan contrasted with modern thedas coming together to rise up against them could help remind solas of why his creation of the veil was necessary and why there’s value in the world he saved aka modern thedas compared with the pitfalls of absolute power of arlathan that allowed people like the evanuris to endanger the entire world. So that might help change solas’ mind and also means the possibility of some amazing fucking battle scenes between solas/new protag/inquisitor vs evanuris. this is my biggest guilty pleasure wish tbh. I want solas and lavellan taking down an evanuris together. 

- morrigan might even join them in the fight mentioned above. given she’s likely to inherit mythals power from flemeth and the power of the well, it seems pretty obvious she’ll have a big part to play and she’s the only one (if she inherits mythals power we see flemeth transferring through the eluvian at the end of DAI) that might be able to match solas or another evanuris in a fight. she might be wistful for the preservation of old magic the way solas is, but she’s also not going to risk keiran’s life for that. 

- hawwwwke. I’ve given up on the warden showing up but hawke needs to be part of this somehow. 

- leliana giving solas a hell of a time with his plans since she is both Divine and wields a lot of influence and power but also because she’s absolutely ruthless. though solas does know her tactics but she is now a lot more powerful than she once was, and has united a lot more of thedas with her policies. 

- sera and red jenny playing an important role against solas. which I think is likely because one of solas’ main frustrations with sera and red jenny is that they didn’t work like a typical organization - they’re disorganized, have no fixed chain of command or structure, they’re unpredictable which is a great weapon against someone like solas who is such a tactician and only because he knows how structured organisations, even guerilla tactic groups work. he doesn’t understand red jenny, so they could undermine him with their whole unpredictable chaos tactics. 

- depending on whether you elevated briala or got rid of her in inquisition, that might influence solas in whether he changes his mind. briala, now elevated in the orlais court and having her own army of elven spies, could help in the fight against solas. I think she’s a great counterpoint to solas’ bullshit idea that the modern elves are a lost cause, since she’s made great strides in empowering them and their influence through thedas by playing the sociopolitical game. 

- more details about the titans, and a bigger role for the dwarves to play in all of this. 

- I also would love to see or have references made to old mates like zevran, alistair (I mean, surely the king of fereldan will have a part to play), aveline, sten, isabela, etc

- but I also REALLY wanna see merrill and her response to this dread wolf rising business. 

[pikapeppa]

Fenris/f!Hawke and the Inquisition: Incaensor

Chapter 44 of Lovers In A Dangerous Time (i.e. Fenris the Inquisitor) is up on AO3! 

In which Fenris, Hawke, and the whole damn crew face off against Corytits Corypheus. Read on AO3 instead; ~6400 words.

********************

Fenris, Hawke, and their companions set off at a brisk but measured pace for the Valley of Sacred Ashes. As always before a high-stakes battle, Hawke tried to keep things light. 

“Let’s play a game, shall we?” she said brightly as they jogged along the snow-covered path. “When we get back to Skyhold, I’ll buy a drink for whoever can come up with the most creative way of killing Corypheus.”

Cassandra shot her a quick frown. “We must deal with his dragon before we can kill him.”

“I will deal with his dragon,” Morrigan said smoothly. “It bears on the rest of you to deal with the magister himself.”

“Exactly,” Hawke said. She flicked Cassandra’s arm as they ran. “So, Cass? How would you finish Corypheus off if it was up to you?”

“This is a serious matter,” Cassandra said severely. “I won’t indulge this game.”

Hawke pouted at her. “You really are like Aveline sometimes. Fine, fine, on to Dorian then. I bet you have some fabulous ideas.”

“I do, in fact,” Dorian said. “I thought it might be nice to start by pulling out each little piece of red lyrium in his body. Humble him a bit by turning him back into a regular-ish sort of fellow before killing him.”

“Ooh, that’s a good one,” Hawke said keenly. “Who’s next?”

“Me!” Sera exclaimed. “I have an idea! Bees in his–”

“–breeches, we know,” Blackwall said patiently.

Sera elbowed him. “Wrong. He doesn’t wear breeches, beardy. I was gonna say bees in his ribs, you know? Shove ‘em right in there and get him all stung and swollen on the inside until he explodes. ‘Boom! Ahh! Oh no, ain’t got any lungs anymore because they’re blown up by bees.’” 

There was a general murmur of approval and disgust, and Bull chuckled. “It’s creative. You have to give her that.” 

“I dunno, Buttercup,” Varric said. “What if the bees get infected by the red lyrium in his body?” 

Sera’s eyes went wide, then narrowed suspiciously. “They couldn’t. You’re having me on.”

Varric grimaced. “They might. Who knows?”

Sera gaped at him, then wrinkled her nose. “Well then, never mind.” She tsked. “Why everything’s always got to be so weird…”

“I have an idea,” Bull said. “Tear him apart into a thousand little pieces. Then we burn the pieces, and we place the ash in a sealed container with some of that acid from those pools out in the Exalted Plains.” He gave Hawke a knowing look. “My idea is the most thorough, little Hawke. You can’t deny that.”

She patted his arm. “That is pretty damned thorough,” she said. She glanced over her shoulder at Solas and Cole. “What about you two? Any creative thoughts?”

Fenris glanced at them as well. Cole looked more vacant than ever; it didn’t seem like he was listening at all. Solas, however, answered Hawke’s question. “A discussion of strategy would not go amiss, truthfully,” he said. “Like any powerful mage, Corypheus’s attacks will rain upon us from a distance. If we can–”

“Boring,” Sera complained. 

Solas ignored her. “... if we can have our warrior companions to pin him in place and weaken him, our chances will be improved.”

Bull let out another rumbling laugh. “That sounds to me like Solas is agreeing with my strategy. Hack the bastard up into little pieces.”

“I like that strategy, too,” Blackwall said. “The more pieces, the better.”

Varric patted his crossbow. “Bianca wants some action, too. If we’re talking about pinning this guy in place, a few dozen bolts could do the trick.”

“Arrows too!” Sera exclaimed. “Don’t forget arrows!”

Hawke laughed and waved a hand. “All right, all right, I’m loving all of these ideas. But so far I think Dorian’s is my favourite.”

Dorian preened. “Why thank you, Hawke. I surprise even myself with my cleverness at times.”

Bull reached over and pulled him close. “Could’ve fooled me, big guy. You’re always going on about how clever you are.”

Dorian huffed and tried half-heartedly to push Bull’s arm away. “I am not. How dare you slander me so? And don’t you wrinkle my clothes, or I’ll make you pay.”

Bull let out a dirty laugh. “Now that I’d like to see.”

Cassandra cleared her throat loudly. “I have had a thought. It would be nicely ironic if we could feed Corypheus to his own dragon. I know it is not possible, but…”

Hawke gaped at her in delight, and Varric whistled. “Damn, Seeker. I think that’s the best suggestion yet.”

“It absolutely is,” Hawke marvelled. “That poetic justice, though? Beautiful. All right, Cass, I’m buying you a drink when we get back to Skyhold.”

An uproar of laughter and protests ensued, and Fenris listened to their carry-on with a vague mixture of amusement and anxiety. He was thankful to Hawke for keeping everyone’s spirits up; this was, after all, one of her finest skills: putting a humorous spin on a terrible situation. As much as Fenris wanted to enjoy the banter, however, he couldn’t help but worry about what was to come. The Breach was open again, and if Corypheus turned the power of that blasted orb on all of them… 

Eventually they reached the rubble that was once the Temple of Sacred Ashes. It was even more grim than when Fenris had first come here with Cassandra and Varric and Solas: only the bare bones of the building still stood, and the red lyrium veins that were semi-dormant a year ago had shoved their way out of the ground in huge malevolent crystalline spikes. 

A handful of Inquisition scouts were valiantly trying to fend off a pack of howling demons. Twenty paces away on a platform at the mouth of a crumbling doorway, Corypheus stood with his cursed elven orb hovering over his hand. 

Fenris curled his lip in anger, then phased toward the nearest demon and materialized inside of it, blasting it apart in a cloud of ichor and scales. He looked up at Corypheus and hauled his sword from his back. “Enough,” he barked. “Come and face your death, mage.” 

Corypheus let out a sinister laugh. “I knew you would come,” he said. He offered Fenris a mocking bow, then twisted his hand beneath the hovering orb. 

A spike of discomfort pulsed through Fenris’s left palm. Then the ground beneath them shuddered, and with an ear-splitting groan of cracking earth and tearing trees, the remains of the temple rose into the air. 

They all stumbled to keep their balance. “Maker save us,” Cassandra breathed. “How…?”

Hawke clicked her tongue and glanced tentatively over the edge of the hovering landmass they were now standing upon. “Well, this is going to make it awfully obnoxious to get home when this is all over,” she drawled.

Fenris glared at Corypheus; the magister was looking more supercilious than ever. “You have been most successful in foiling my plans,” Corypheus said. “But let us not forget what you are: a thief, in the wrong place at the wrong time. An interloper. A gnat.” He raised his arms grandly. “We shall prove here, once and for all, which of us is worthy of godhood.”

Fenris sneered. “You are no god, and neither am I. The only thing we will prove here is whose life will be forfeit.”

“Yeah,” Hawke added belligerently. “And it’s not going to be Fenris’s.”

Corypheus let out another smug laugh. “Ah, the blood that attempted to bind me,” he taunted her. “Such mortal hubris you showed. You could not kill me then, and you shall not kill me now. I will be crowned a god over your bloodless corpse.”

“Try it, maleficar,” Fenris snarled. “I will tear the blighted lyrium from your flesh shard by shard until you crumble into the dust that you should have become a thousand years ago.” 

“Hey,” Dorian protested. “That was my idea.”

From behind Corypheus, there was an enormous crunching sound, like the sound of a very heavy footstep. Another crunch ensued, then another, and then Corypheus’s dragon appeared over the top of the crumbling skeleton of the building. 

They all took an instinctive step back, and Bull whistled. “Vashedan, that thing is huge.”

“Not the time to be admiring it, Tiny,” Varric said tensely. 

Fenris watched the dragon warily. Its eyes were fixed on him, and there was already a fulminating crimson ball of energy writhing between its teeth. It wiggled its haunches like a cat about to pounce, and–

An enormous dragon with violet scales soared overhead and slammed into Corypheus’s dragon with an ear-splitting screech. 

Corypheus whipped around in alarm, and Hawke whooped and punched the air with her fist. “Get it, Morrigan! Yes!”

Corypheus turned back to them with a snarl of rage. “You dare?” he hissed.

Fenris narrowed his eyes. “And so we fight,” he said. With Hawke’s warm barrier on his shoulders and his greatsword in his hands, he phased toward Corypheus. 

Blackwall and Cassandra began to run toward Corypheus as well. Fenris swung his sword at the backs of Corypheus’s knees, but before the strike could land, Corypheus phased out of his reach. 

Venhedis, Fenris thought angrily. He’d forgotten that Corypheus seemed to have the same Fade-stepping ability that he and Cole – and apparently Solas – all had. 

Corypheus waved at his orb again. A small pair of rifts appeared, and demons began falling through. 

“Bull,” Fenris barked, but Bull quickly waved a hand in acknowledgement; he, Varric, Sera and Solas were already attacking the demons.

Another teeth-rattling dragon shriek rent the air, and Fenris looked up. Morrigan and the false archdemon were flailing and ripping at each other as they sailed through the grey and fractured sky. 

Fenris dragged a hand through his hair and tried to think. He needed to close those small rifts before more demons came through, and they needed to distract Corypheus to stop him from opening more rifts, since each one he opened would only widen the Breach. But they couldn’t outright kill Corypheus until his dragon was dead.

He looked around. “Cole,” he barked.

Cole appeared at his side. “I’m ready to help,” he said. 

“Good,” Fenris said brusquely. “Follow Corypheus as he moves across the Fade. Antagonize him as much as you can. Keep him busy.” 

Cole nodded, then disappeared and reappeared behind Corypheus, who snarled and swatted at him before spitting diatribe at Blackwall and Cassandra. Fenris then ran toward his companions at the rifts. 

He flung his left hand toward the nearest rift and pulled, dragging the edges of the rift together until it closed with its customary thwomp of pressure. He phased through a demon toward the second rift, then closed that one as well before turning to Solas. 

“You are familiar with the properties of the orb,” he panted. 

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Solas replied.

Fenris nodded briskly. “Can you quell its power? Dampen it so Corypheus can’t tear the Breach wider?”

Solas bowed his head. “I will do my best.” 

Fenris turned to the others. “Bull, Sera, Dorian: keep an eye for demons. Varric, focus on Corypheus. I forgot that he phases,” he gritted. 

Varric patted his elbow. “Don’t worry about it, elf. Bianca and I will keep him busy.” He turned toward Corpheus and started loading his crossbow.

Fenris turned to Hawke. “You–”

“I’ll stay with you,” she said.

He hesitated. This was what he wanted; he wanted Hawke by his side, protecting him and keeping him safe as she always did. But she was the only healer they had, and if she was farther back from Corypheus, she might be safer… 

He shook his head. “You need to spread your attention. Keep an eye on everyone as best you can. Defenses and healing,” he insisted as her eyebrows rose in protest. “We’ll need you–”

“I’m putting barriers on you first,” she interrupted. “Don’t even try and talk me out of it. That’s what’s happening.”

He glared at her stubbornly lifted chin, but Solas’s calm voice broke in. “Your life is tantamount, Fenris,” he said. “Only you can close the Breach. We are all well-served if Hawke protects you above everything else.”

“She’s going to do it anyway, elf,” Varric said over his shoulder. “Better let it just happen.”

Fenris dragged a frustrated hand through his hair, then gripped Hawke’s arm. “Remember what we talked about,” he said urgently. “Don’t–”

Sera suddenly shrieked and leapt into Bull’s arms, and they all looked up in alarm. A spiky array of red lyrium crystals as tall as Fenris’s waist had just appeared in the place where Sera had been standing.

“Move,” Fenris barked, and they all ran away from the red lyrium crystals that Corypheus had thrown their way. 

“Almost got me, that did!” Sera exclaimed. She rubbed her arms and shivered as they ran toward Corypheus and the others. “I hate this stuff. Gems are for stealing, not for stabbing through the ground at people!”

Fenris didn’t reply. Frustration and impatience and – yes, a little fear – were pulsing through his blood. Without further ado, he phased toward the magister and lashed at him with a pulse of lyrium-powered energy and a roar of rage. 

The ensuing fight was chaotic and frustrating and tiring. Corypheus kept jumping across the battlefield to higher ground, forcing Bull and Blackwall and Cassandra to run after him. Despite Solas’s efforts to stabilize the orb, Corypheus managed to open another rift, thus drawing Bull and Dorian and Sera’s efforts. All the while, Corypheus continued to pontificate at them in a loud ringing voice. 

“You will fall as a warning to those who oppose my divine will,” he shouted. “You dare to touch an avatar of divinity?” He sneered at Fenris. “Look at you, wearing slave markings on your face with pride. You are nothing. A race of snivelling cowards that shrank before Tevinter power!”

“Slave markings?” Hawke panted. She threw a barrier over Bull and raised an eyebrow at  Fenris. “Is he talking about your lyrium marks? Why would he think you’re proud of those?”

Kaffas, Fenris thought. With everything that had been happening with Solas and Morrigan, he’d forgotten to tell Hawke about the grim origin of vallaslin. 

But there was no time. Overhead, a terrible and mind-numbing shriek tore through the air, forcing Fenris to cover his ears. The dragons were still clawing and snapping at each other, dripping blood and ichor through the air. But Corypheus’s dragon was faltering. One of its wings was clearly broken, and it was swiftly losing height. 

As Fenris watched, Morrigan peeled away from her foe, then rose swiftly in a nearly-vertical trajectory through the air before wheeling around and diving at the dying fake-archdemon. Her claws sank into its belly and her teeth sank into its neck, and it let out a terrible agonized screech.

“No!” Corypheus bellowed. 

Hawke, Bull, and Sera all cheered, but Fenris was alarmed. As Morrigan was driving the dragon down, he’d noticed the open gash in her draconic side – a gash so wide and deep that he could see her ribs. 

“Hawke,” he said sharply. 

She looked at him with a smile, but her face fell as she met his eye. “What’s wrong?” she said urgently. 

“Morrigan is injured,” he said. “Her side–”

There was an enormous, ground-shaking thud as the two dragons slammed into the cracked paving stones a hundred paces away. A moment later, the violet-scaled dragon melted back into Morrigan’s human form – a completely still and unmoving form.

“Morrigan!” Hawke gasped. “Shit. I’ll be back.” She ran off.

“Fenris,” Blackwall shouted.

He looked up. Blackwall was standing with Solas, Bull and Cole, and they were looking up at Corypheus, who had phased to a higher level of the crumbled temple. A thin stream of glittering light was streaming from the dead archdemon’s body back to undead magister. 

Corypheus doubled over as the light sank back into his malformed body, then straightened with a snarl and pointed at Fenris. “It ends here,” he shouted, then raised his arms again. “Let the skies boil. Let the world be rent asunder!”

The ground was shaking again. Boulders and rubble were starting to float. As Fenris watched in horror, cracks began to appear in the ground around the structure where Corypheus was standing. 

He looked desperately over at Hawke. Sera was crouching beside her, and Hawke was cradling Morrigan’s pale cheek while holding her glowing green palm over Morrigan’s still-bleeding side. 

He stared at Hawke’s precious dark-haired head for an agonized second. Then he turned to Varric, Cassandra, and Dorian, who were clustered around him. “Let’s go,” he told them. “We have to pursue Corypheus.”

Dorian’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re leaving Hawke here?” he said. 

“She’s not going to like that,” Varric warned. 

“I know,” Fenris said brusquely. He glanced at Hawke again; she was pouring healing magic into Morrigan’s side with both hands now. If he pulled her away from Morrigan’s side now, Morrigan would likely die.

 And if Hawke stayed with Morrigan, she would be safely out of Corypheus’s reach. 

Fenris swallowed hard, then turned to Cassandra. “Stay with her,” he said. “Guard her while she works.”

Cassandra nodded, but Varric folded his arms. “Fenris,” he said warningly. “She’s going to be pissed.”

“I know that,” Fenris snapped. “But we don’t have time to wait for her. We must catch Corypheus before–”

“Fenris!” Solas shouted. 

His voice was a commanding snap. Fenris looked up just in time to see the cracked ground starting to split in two. 

Kaffas, he thought. He needed to be on the other side of that crack. If he was here and the others were stuck with Corypheus, with no way to stop the magister from widening the Breach… 

He turned to Cassandra. “Go,” he commanded. “Tell Hawke that Varric and Dorian are guarding me. It will put her mind at ease.” 

“Inquisitor,” she said with a brisk nod, and she bolted off toward Hawke and Sera. 

Fenris turned to Varric and Dorian. “Let’s run,” he shouted, and they took off toward the rest of the group at a sprint. 

The ground was shuddering beneath Fenris’s bare feet, and his aching heart was pounding out a frenzied tattoo in his ears. The closer they got to the fissure in the ground, the wider it seemed to yawn, and – venhedis, if it got any wider, they might not be able to clear the jump…  

He glanced at Varric. “Will we need to toss you across the gap?” he gasped. 

“I’ll shoot you if you try,” Varric yelled back. Together, the three of them flung themselves across the crevasse. 

Dorian landed on the other side with his usual grace. Fenris slipped slightly before righting himself, and Varric managed to catch the edge of the crevice with both hands before the ground split off and rose higher into the air. 

Fenris and Dorian hastily grabbed Varric’s arms and hauled him onto the ledge, and the three of them sat in a heap on the ground for a moment as they caught their breath. Then Dorian spoke in a tired voice. “Fenris, is it just me, or is it extremely flattering that you’re using me as a defense against your wife’s future wrath?” 

Fenris grunted and pushed himself to his feet. “As always, Dorian, vishante kaffas.”

“I’m quite serious,” Dorian said. He used Varric’s shoulder to pull himself upright. “I do think this means you count me as close a friend as Varric.” 

Varric snorted, and Fenris shot Dorian an exasperated look. “Maybe you can fish for compliments later. Right now, we should–” 

“Fenris!” 

It was Hawke. Her voice was faint from the distance but sharp with fear, and an instinctive vice of longing seized his heart. 

He looked over the edge and down at the platform where he’d left her. She was kneeling still beside an unconscious Morrigan and Cassandra had a hand on her shoulder, but Fenris could only stare at her face, which was twisted with distress. 

“I love you, you fucking asshole,” she yelled. 

His eyes burned with a sudden sting of tears. He smiled at her in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, but he couldn’t shout anything back, because his heart was lodged in his throat. 

No, that wasn’t true. His heart wasn’t in his throat. It was down on the platform below and staring up at him with shining copper eyes. 

He swallowed hard, then leaned away from the edge and turned to Dorian and Varric. “Let’s catch up to the others,” he said gruffly. He pretended not to hear the thickness in his own voice, and he was grateful when Dorian and Varric ignored it too. 

They dodged more floating boulders as they ran up the cracked stairs toward Corypheus. The others were already battling with the cursed magister: Cole was flitting around him with his daggers in hand, and Bull and Blackwall were swinging and charging at him valiantly despite his phasing. Solas, meanwhile, had one glowing hand outstretched toward the orb and was throwing bursts of raw Fade magic at Corypheus with the other.

Corypheus caught sight of Fenris, and his grotesque face twisted into a mask of rage. He made a brisk pulling motion with his right hand, dragging the orb out of Solas’s range, then thrust his left hand at Fenris. 

“Shit!” Varric yelled, and all three of them threw themselves aside just as a fresh array of red lyrium spikes appeared in the place where they’d been standing. 

Fenris shoved himself to his feet. He was vaguely aware of Dorian’s vibrating barrier dropping over his shoulders before he lit his lyrium scars to life and phased toward the blighted magister. 

Without thinking, he swung his sword straight at Corypheus’s ribs. The blade glanced off of the red lyrium spikes with a resonant clang.

Venhedis, Fenris thought furiously, and Corypheus laughed. “For months you have spoiled my plans. For months you have tried to stop me. And what have you learned? Nothing. For my will is the will of a god, and I will not be broken!” He clenched his fists, and a violent red glow began to build around them. A second later, he lashed his fists in a wild gesture, and a flare of ugly red energy lit the entire battlefield. 

There were exclamations of pain from Cole and Blackwall, who were too close to Corypheus to dodge the attack, but everyone else was shielded by Dorian or Solas’s barriers. When the burst of energy died away, Blackwall stumbled toward Cole and thrust an elfroot potion at him. “Take that, boy,” he gasped. “Step back–”

Corypheus thrust his hand at Blackwall, and Blackwall hastily lifted his shield to block a volley of red lyrium crystals. He looked over at Fenris. “What’s our strategy?” he shouted. 

Fenris knew what to do. The strategy he would use had worked with Meredith and with Samson, and he could only pray to the Maker or to Mythal or to whatever damned gods were out there that it would work with Corypheus too. But this time he was doing it without Hawke’s support… 

He glanced at his lyrium tattoos – the tattoos carrying his magic – and took a deep breath. “I’ll weaken him,” he called to Blackwall. “Get the others ready.” 

Blackwall nodded, and Fenris strode confidently toward Corypheus. “Your power is nothing compared to mine,” he taunted. He held up his verdant left hand. “You couldn’t take this from me at Haven, and you cannot take it now.”

Corypheus swelled with rage, and just as Fenris had hoped, he launched into a dogmatic speech. “You think that wretched mark will save you from my will? You think that you can save yourself or your people from the glory of a god? You are nothing, rattus,” he spat. “An insignificant mistake. A creature barely more than an ant on the ground...”

While Corypheus ranted, Fenris collected his energy and mentally pressed it toward the lyrium that lined his palms. Then, without any warning, he flung both his hands in Corypheus’s direction.

An enormous flare of magic – both from the lyrium marks and the Fade – surged from his hands toward Corypheus’s crystal-studded body. Corypheus let out an inhuman screech, and Fenris gritted his teeth as he shoved every ounce of his focus through his hands and into Corypheus’s wretched corpse.

An interminable, exhausting minute later, Corypheus fell to his knees, and Fenris fell as well. Then Blackwall, Bull, Cole, Dorian, and Solas were all attacking Corypheus in concert. 

Fenris lifted his head and watched them blearily. He was exhausted already, not unlike how he’d felt at the Temple of Mythal, and he knew what Hawke would say if she were here: that he couldn’t use his marks anymore, not until he was feeling stronger. 

Varric skidded into place beside him. “Fenris,” he said urgently. “You okay, buddy?”

“Yes,” Fenris rasped. He pulled a bottle of elfroot from his belt with shaking hands. “Attack the magister. We need to finish him.” 

“You got it,” Varric said. Without leaving Fenris’s side, he pulled Bianca out and began shooting volley after volley of bolts at the undead magister. 

Fenris gulped the elfroot, then took a few slow breaths as he watched the fight. Corypheus was still screaming diatribe and flinging magic with his skeletal arms, but he was clearly taking real damage now: he was hunched over from his injuries and cowering from Blackwall and Bull’s forceful strikes. 

“Not like this!” he squawked. “I have walked the halls of the Golden City, crossed the ages…” He dragged the glowing red orb toward his body, then phased away from them to the top of another set of stairs.

Fenris wilted in exasperation. “Fasta vass. Will he never cease?” he complained. He rose to his feet with effort, and despite the warnings that he knew Hawke would hiss at him if she were here, he phased toward Corypheus. 

He made a clumsy landing ten paces from the undead magister. The ground heaved and cracked once more, and Fenris toppled to his hands and knees. When he finally stood up, it was to find himself on yet another levitating chunk of land with only Solas, Cole, and Corypheus for company. 

“Dumat!” Corypheus cried. “Ancient ones, I beseech you! If you exist – if you ever truly existed – aid me now!”

Fenris turned to face him. His red lyrium crystals were alight, and so were his eyes and the orb that he was clearly struggling to contain in his hands.

The orb. The blasted fucking orb. It was the source of Corypheus’s power, and the source of the Breach. If Fenris took it away from him…

He gritted his teeth. Then, ignoring his throbbing head and his watery-feeling limbs, he pushed past Solas and Cole and stumbled toward the magister, then reached for the orb and pulled. 

The orb snapped out of Corypheus’s grip and into Fenris’s palm, and Fenris gasped. All of his exhaustion was suddenly gone, wiped away in an instant as the energy of the orb surged hummed through his skin and his blood. It felt almost as though the orb had been waiting to be reunited with the anchor on his hand. 

Without another second’s hesitation, Fenris thrust the orb toward the Breach in the sky.

Light. Light and power and energy and heat surged through him, swelling in his muscles and his belly and his mouth, and he shuddered as it poured through the orb and up into the sky. Seconds later, seconds which felt like hours, the entire sky pulsed with another blinding surge of light.

The light was white this time. As the light softened from a blinding glare to a gentle glow, Fenris’s left arm dropped to his side as though a marionette string had been cut, and the orb fell from his fingers and hit the ground with a solid and resonant thunk. 

All around them, the hovering pillars and rubble and boulders began crashing to the ground. The ground itself jolted, then began to sink back down as Corypheus’s vile magic faltered.

Fenris ignored it all and stepped toward Corypheus. The anchor was snapping and flickering on his palm, but for the first time, it didn’t feel uncomfortable. It felt like a warm and gentle buzz that rippled all the way through his skin from his toes up to his chin, and he focused on the vibration as he approached Corypheus’s hunched and misshapen form. 

Corypheus slowly lifted his head. “Incaensor,” he spat.

Fenris didn’t reply. He had nothing to say to the ancient magister. Without any preamble or ceremony, he sank his flickering left fist into Corypheus’s chest. 

Corypheus’s face slackened with shock. With no small amount of satisfaction, Fenris twisted his wrist and opened a Fade rift inside of Corypheus’s ribcage. 

The magister’s misshapen mouth yawned wide with agony, but no sound came out: Corypheus couldn’t scream, because his lungs were obliterated and his jaw was torn away. He couldn’t move, for the rift was twisting and tearing his limbs into countless shards of flesh. Fenris gritted his teeth and poured the orb’s magic into Corypheus’s swiftly-disintegrating body, and when the rift closed with a peaceful pop, the only remaining piece of flesh in Fenris’s hand was Corypheus’s bloodstained heart.

Fenris looked at the heart with distaste, then crushed it into pulp and dropped it on the ground. 

“I’m glad he’s dead,” Cole said. 

Fenris turned. Cole was watching him with a tiny vacant smile, but Solas was crouching beside the orb. 

It was broken; shattered, it seemed, by a falling piece of debris. As Fenris drew closer to Solas, the elven mage lifted one of the broken pieces and ran his thumb along the jagged edge. 

“It is lost,” Solas said quietly. 

Fenris folded his arms. “Good. Its power can never again be used for evil purposes.” 

Solas looked up at him, and Fenris regarded him with some surprise; he had expected Solas to frown or to lecture him about his reluctance to preserve a valuable magical artifact. But Solas’s expression was utterly despondent. 

Fenris unfolded his arms. “You know more about this orb, don’t you? You know where it came from.”

Solas replaced the orb on the ground and slowly rose to his feet, and Fenris took a step toward him. “It’s Mythal’s, isn’t it?” he demanded. “The orb belonged to Mythal, and you knew it. That’s why you were so strange about the Well of Sorrows.”

Solas‘s gaze was still on the broken orb. “It was not supposed to happen this way,” he said softly. 

“What wasn’t?” Fenris snapped. “Tell me what you know of this!” 

Solas bowed his head, then looked at Fenris once more. “No matter what comes, I want you to know: you and Hawke shall always have my respect.” 

Fenris stared at him. “What does that mean?” he said in frustration. “Do you know something we don’t? Solas, if you–”

“Fenris?” 

Hawke’s distant shout instantly snared his attention. He whipped around, then ran toward the sound of her voice.

“Fenris!” she yelled. “Fenris, if you’re hurt, so help me, I will fucking kill you.” 

Her voice was pitched high with tension, and guilt kicked his heart into a rapid beat. He skidded through a crumbling archway and stopped at the top of a flight of stairs. 

At the bottom of the stairs, Hawke was standing with the rest of their party, including a pale but healthy-looking Morrigan. 

“Fenris!” Hawke screamed. She bolted up the stairs.

He pelted toward her. When he was halfway down the stairs, Hawke launched herself at him and flung her arms around his neck. 

He stumbled back at the impact, then tripped on the steps and fell onto his butt with an oomph, and Hawke crawled haphazardly onto his lap. “Are you hurt?” she demanded. She patted his face and squeezed his arms, and her wild-eyed gaze darted across his armoured chest. “Any wounds? Bruises? If he fucking touched you, I’ll… Fenris, I’ll–” 

“I’m fine,” Fenris told her. He slid his hands around her waist. “It is done, Hawke. He’s dead. It’s over.” 

She heaved a huge sigh and patted his face again. “Thank fuck,” she breathed. “Thank fuck. I was so…” She took a deep breath, then kissed him firmly before burying her face against his neck. 

She was shaking. Fenris wrapped her in his arms and squeezed her hard, and her breath against his neck sent a ripple of warmth into his chest. Now that Hawke was safely in his arms, Fenris could allow himself to relax a little bit.

A moment later, she leaned back and smacked his chest. “You asshole,” she said, and she smacked his chest again. “You left me behind! You – you fucking left me behind?”

The anxiety in her face was twisting into disbelief, and Fenris gazed at her in resignation. “There wasn’t time,” he said. “The ground was breaking apart. I had to pursue him. There was no choice, Hawke.” His defense was true, but it didn’t make him feel any less guilty, particularly when her cheeks started reddening with anger.

“You went without telling me,” she accused. “You fucking left without telling me, and y-you didn’t even kiss me for luck…” 

A tear tracked down her face. Fenris swallowed the lump in his throat and he reached up to wipe it away, but she gently pushed his hand aside and wiped her own cheeks. 

She arranged her face into a smile and slid off of his lap. “You know what, it’s fine. What matters is that Corytits is dead. He’s dead! He’s…” She trailed off as Fenris stood up and stared at him with widening eyes. “It’s over,” she breathed. “Holy shit. It’s… it’s over.”

He gazed at her with some trepidation. An incredulous smile was lifting her cheeks, but he didn’t believe she would let him off the hook that easily for leaving her behind. 

She let out a bright little laugh and kissed his cheek. Then Morrigan’s dry voice drifted up the stairs. “Victorious, I see. What a novel result.” She folded her arms and looked up at the sky. “And it seems the Breach is finally closed.”

Fenris looked up as well. The late evening sky was laced with a shimmering aurora of white light, like a rippling scar left by the magic that had attempted to tear it apart. 

He let out a heavy sigh. Victory, he thought. Yes, this was a victory: their mortal foe was dead, and the sky was no longer at risk of being torn apart. But somehow, it didn’t feel real. This goal that they’d been pushing toward for a year had finally been achieved, and with more success and fewer casualties than Fenris could have hoped. But it just didn’t feel… real.

He and Hawke descended the stairs to join the others. They were all smiling at him, and as he and Hawke drew level with them, Varric folded his arms and grinned. “So? You gonna give us the official Inquisition verdict?”

Fenris nodded. “Corypheus is dead. I, er… I opened a rift inside of his chest and tore out his heart.”

Sera let out a mad cackle of glee, and the others oohed with varying degrees of disgust and appreciation. Varric turned to face them all and gestured grandly at Fenris. “Ladies and gentlemen, your Inquisitor doing what he does best: tearing corrupt magisters apart one organ at a time.”

There was a ripple of laughter and applause from the group, and Fenris awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “Thank you, Varric. I think.” 

Then Cassandra spoke up. “What do we do now?” 

Fenris looked at her. Her smile was broad and her eyes were wide with wonder and pride, and as Fenris gazed at his companions, he realized that they were all watching him with the same degree of excitement and… and expectation. Bull, Blackwall, Sera, Dorian… even Varric was looking at him like he was waiting for Fenris to tell them what to do next.

A heavy sort of resignation settled in his belly. He ignored it and mustered a smile, then borrowed a page from Hawke’s book. “Drinks at Skyhold, on the Inquisitor,” he announced.

“You mean on Lady Montilyet,” Blackwall called out.

Fenris smirked. “Of course that is what I mean. Did you think they were paying me for this job?”

They all laughed and murmured their approval, and to Fenris’s relief, they turned away from him and started making their leisurely way back to Skyhold. Dorian and Varric began a spirited retelling to Morrigan and Cassandra about their part in the fight, and Sera started loudly telling Blackwall and Bull exactly how many pies she was going to eat when they returned to Skyhold. 

Fenris listened to their cheerful talk with a dull sort of wistfulness. Then Hawke took his hand. 

He looked down at her and admired her lovely smile – a smile that he knew was hiding her tamped-down anger. And for a brief moment, Fenris allowed himself to pretend that this was the end of it: this was the end of this war, and the end of the struggles and the unwanted decisions that he would be forced to make.

For a brief moment, Fenris allowed himself to pretend that things could be simple.