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kaltacore · 11 months

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it’s a little hard for me to imagine anders and fenris becoming friends and reaching a complete understanding despite the similarity of their situation. merrill, on the other hand, has a lot of potential to reconcile with both of them after the events of da2. let me elaborate

fenris and anders' trauma is something they could have bonded over, but at the same time this is the reason they cannot overcome their distrust and dislike of each other: for fenris, anders is a magister in the making — someone who wants people who abused fenris to be free and out of control, and for anders, fenris is someone who rejoices in his kind's suffering because he was once mistreated by people from completely different country and society who also happened to be mages. fenris is too wary of magic to see anders' point: as someone who'd gotten possessed, anders proved himself to be weak and willing to submit to a demon for power, even if he claims he had his reasons and his cause was just — and this is exactly the type of a mage who would build another tevinter imperium here, in the place fenris feels almost safe because people he fears the most are locked up. anders may say he's open-minded as much as he likes, but his own trauma and experience won't let him see the origins of fenris' attitude — it feels like a direct attack on him and the people he's fighting for, because anders himself is in fact too hot-tempered and quick to judge.

mages and templars and tevinter imperium will not disappear with the chantry explosion: even if both of them have an opportunity to rethink and question their own actions, the main point of their conflict, their apple of discord, will still be there and it will matter.

meanwhile, the thing with merrill is slightly different for both of them.

fenris despises her because she's willing to sacrifice things he desperately wanted, and she does it for desires he sees as completely worthless. merrill had a clan, people who cared for her, and a family, and she gave it up for chasing ghosts of ancient glory. fenris himself was sacrificed to become a weapon designed by people long gone; he got stripped of his family, his memories, and his identity because someone else was seeking power and knowledge. it is not the ideas he cares about; more likely, he's repulsed by them. he may even envy merrill at some point: she still has a home to return to, a people she belongs to, somebody who's waiting for her. fenris has a sister somewhere in tevinter, but he can't save her, can't get back to her, he doesn't even remember her clearly, and merrill has everything he yearns for. and she gives it up willingly. and for what.

it changes in act 3. merrill loses her last chance to reunite with her clan: they're either dead or she's exiled for good. fenris loses his family too, in a different, but still ugly way, and it comes with the utter feeling of betrayal and emptiness he has to face. he does still despise merrill: he thinks she brought it upon her clan and herself, but the truth is, the decision she had to make was forced upon her, as well as the decision he himself had to make with varania was forced upon him. fenris is left alone and he doesn't know what to do with his life anymore, and merrill — she got everything taken away from her because of the choices she made, but she is still holding up. somehow, she still has hopes, wishes, and goals.

when all of them have to leave kirkwall and when the ashes are settled, does it matter? fenris has no home. varania sold him to a man he hated the most; the place he was living in for six years is out of his reach; the only people he stuck around with are all here and there are things between them that can no longer be fixed. that fleeting feeling of home that was kirkwall was stripped away from him and what's left? does it matter anymore that merrill threw away things he desired so badly when both of them cannot return to the place they called home because of things they had no control over? the only choice they've made in the matter was following hawke, and, well, could they choose otherwise? maybe he will see merrill not as a blood mage, someone weak, someone who never valued the things she had, but as a person strong enough to endure everything she went through: the weight of her decisions, the loss of everything she cared about. fenris respects strength of many forms, the strength of mind, the strength of will. when both of their lives turned into one white blank page he can finally see that maybe, just maybe, merrill was not the power-seeking mage who was tossing with people's lives for a glimpse of long-forgotten history, but a keeper's first who was willing to sacrifice everything for her people and had to pay dearly for the things she believed in, just as he had to pay for his own belief that finding his family will take the loneliness that was eating him up away, that it will make things right.

anders considers merrill to be nothing more than a foolish child. for him, she's an embodiment of everything the chantry hates mages for: a scapegoat for caging his people and spreading propaganda about all of them being dangerous, tempted, power-seeking monsters. he never tries to understand her: she's a blood mage, an obstacle to reaching acceptance of his kind. her future as someone who's working with a demon is also painfully similar to his own present: he believes she's walking the same path as he did, maybe an even uglier one, because the thing whose help she uses so carelessly is already a demon. and she doesn't even want to listen to him. anders doesn't get that she doesn't take his warnings seriously because he doesn't even try to listen to her as well. he never even considers that she is not as careless as he thinks. just like fenris, he doesn't get the importance of her work: he witnesses her turning to the darkest and most dangerous forms of magic not out of desperation, but out of an obsession with some useless relic, and all of this happens while his people — and her people — get slaughtered and tortured because of who they are.

in act 3 the decision to blow up the chantry is entirely his, and just like that in the eyes of whole thedas, he becomes everything the chantry warns people about in its sermons: an uncontrollable, dangerous abomination that burns down cities and slaughters families out of simple, frightening bloodlust. no one will be asking him about what made him do it, or what he felt, or what led to all of it. there's no place for him anywhere because of what he did, no matter how necessary it was because people won't listen. they won't even try.

and after all that, does it matter that merrill was dealing with demons, that she used magic the chantry hates the most? he is the demon now. he is the chantry's worst idea of an apostate. some of his own people in the circles will despise him for what he's done, and the common folk will curse his name all over the southern thedas. he does not regret starting the rebellion, but this is the price he has to pay — and is he in any position to judge merrill for doing what she thought was necessary to save her people, as she's always claimed? she accepted the hatred she was facing all these years, whether it was coming from her clan or him or anyone else. and when anders himself thinks that the line between justice and vengeance is too thin to separate them, maybe, just maybe, it will be worth hearing what merrill has to say about spirits, about none of them being good nor bad?

the thing is, merrill never had that much of a problem with them. and if they have a wish to finally let her close, let her be their friend, she won't turn them down. she was never good at making friends, but she would certainly give it another try

#i'm so sorry i'm a little insane over whatever is going on between three of them #like i really want them to be friends. but this is a little too complicated. but also there's beauty in overcoming the complicated #also love how the da2 post-canon feels. bittersweet and a little depressing but not as hopeless as it could be #would tag that as meta but i'm not qualified enough to make more sense of it so. throwing these thoughts here anyway #merrill #anders #fenris #dragon age

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thedragonagelesbian · 7 months

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Know, Mentor, and First :)

oc asks: relationship edition

i was so hoping someone would send know, thank you <33

(also love that there's no specification of which oc i should be answering this for. we all know.)

Know: How well does your OC know themself—their wants, their goals, their motivations? Do they engage in any sort of self-reflection? Is there anything about themself they willfully ignore?

Cyrus only knows himself in relation to others. Strip away his sense of service, duty, obligation, oath, take him off of the battlefield and peel off all the armor and clean away all the blood he gave so no one else would have to, and his grasp of self becomes tenuous at best.

What's so fascinating to me about him is that that exterior selfhood isn't like... a mask or a performance, per se, because I think those terms imply a level of deception or intention, and it's not that for Cyrus. He genuinely, earnestly believes that the whole of himself is defined by what he can give to others. But there's also something artificial about that belief insofar as he's never stopped to question it or evaluate it. He's just always accepted it on faith alone. It Is him but it's also just slightly outside of him, if that makes any sense at all??

Which also ties into his lack of self-reflection. My boy has 8 wisdom introspection is very much NOT his strong suit, and a lot of the time, when he's ignoring some part of himself (his grief, his anger, his overprotectiveness), it's not a conscious choice but something that grows out of that lack of self-awareness.

Even when it comes to physical pain, his instinct to minimize it is just that: it's reflexive, involuntary, it doesn't even register to him as enduring a suffering that he doesn't have to. Much to the profound consternation of the healers who keep falling in love with him.

Mentor: Does your OC have a mentor? Have they ever reached out to anyone for guidance or teaching, or been taken under someone's wing? How does your OC get along with their mentor?

I think of Cyrus as self-taught in most regards, and that inability (largely imagined in DA2, actual in BG3) to rely on any adult or mentor figure is a huge part of why he's Like This.

In DA2, the closest thing he had to a mentor was the elder/hahren of the Amaranthine alienage, where he grew up. Elder Ischia was a wonderful community leader, someone Cyrus grew up wanting to emulate. When he and his family had to flee the city, she gave him a bone-hilt dagger--his first weapon--as a means of feeling like he had some agency and control in the midst of so much helplessness. He carries that dagger with him for the rest of his life, and many of his most important kills are carried out with it (including Anders :) ).

Also, across any timeline, Cyrus idolizes the crap out of his father as exactly the kind of man he wants to be. The paragon of masculinity that Cyrus, as a trans man, is trying to live up to. Sometimes, wearing Malcolm's memory is a gift. Sometimes, it feels like another miserable expectation.

First: Has your OC ever been the one to leave first? Why did they go, and who did they leave behind? Do they regret it?

Cyrus is so bad at leaving and letting go, but two instances across his two games come to mind:

In DA2, he leaves Bethany behind when he goes on the Deep Roads expedition. This decision was 1000% born out of him thinking it would be too dangerous for his sister. Bethany was outraged by it, and Cyrus came to regret it terribly when he returned home to find her being taken to the Gallows. For years, he maintained the belief that he had failed and abandoned Bethany by not trying harder to break her out of the Circle-- despite being told again and again that it wouldn't work, not least because Bethany didn't want to live her life on the run anymore. He eventually gets it through his thick skull, but there's a reason Bethany decides to stay with Isabela and Fenris instead of him at the end of everything.

In BG3, I have... many. Many. Many. Unresolved and free-floating thoughts about breaking up with Astarion at the party, particularly in light of the Act 2 reveal about the circumstances under which Astarion initiates that relationship. It's a tricky period to talk about precisely because Astarion is being so withholding and performative and Cyrus very naively takes it at face value (again, 8 wisdom, coming in under astarion's otherwise utterly average 10 charisma). Cyrus thinks he's following Astarion's lead and expectations, but Astarion himself doesn't know what or how to want and is instead trying to mirror Cyrus' want back to him, but Cyrus is bad at wanting things for himself, so........................................

Idk. I think about the mirror scene a lot-- Cyrus opening with the sweeter answer, but then flipping to straightforward confirmation of Astarion's beauty when he snaps that the former isn't what he's looking for.

Cyrus ultimately approaches that conversation at the party thinking they have the same understanding of what their relationship is/was: something casual, purely physical, and devoid of sentimentality. He's not wrong, necessarily-- from Astarion's perspective, this was all a ploy anyway! A desperate survival technique, leaping immediately to a tried and true self-destructive tactic because if you can't keep the hero at arm's length, better to keep yourself in his good graces, right?

But... it's very easy to interpret Astarion's dialogue & Neil's performance during the breakup as evidence that he had started to develop the feelings that lead, in Act 2, to him wanting a genuine relationship.

Or, would have led to that, had Cyrus stayed.

#cyrus hawke #cyrus bg3 #thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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kiastirling-fanfic · 1 year

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happy dadwc friday Kia!! A prompt for Leda Aeducan (canon romance Fenris??? INTRIGUED), if that strikes your fancy: “they’re with me. and so long as they are, you’re never going to have anything to do with them again. clear?”

jhdvcdks that was supposed to say Zevran. But I'm still doing it. Welcome to a new AU I've just come up with, where Fenris went to Amaranthine instead of Kirkwall. (How that impacts Hawke's story I cannot say but I decided Anders didn't leave. So.)

I'm starting this AU with Danarius showing up in Amaranthine to take Fenris back because that's where that quote takes me.

@dadrunkwriting

Fenris had made many mistakes in his life, even if he couldn’t remember some of them. The lyrium tattoos that were carved into his flesh, the days of screaming pain that turned all that preceded them into a blank slurry, a vague fuzz that only gave him the impression that all he was had changed-

Whatever brought him to that point had certainly been the worst, but his decision to flee from Seheron and south to Ferelden certainly ranked up there. A different man might have hunted Danarius himself, or fortified a stronghold and killed his old master, but that was not who Fenris was.

He was a fearful wolf. Capable yes, undoubtedly, else the Wardens never would have taken him on, but in the face of all that he had once fled?

“Fenris is my property, little Warden,” Danarius sneered. It was no exaggeration to say he looked down his nose at the Warden Commander of Ferelden, and not only because she was a dwarf. When the Blight was declared, shortly before he’d been forced back from Seheron and left Fenris to rot, he’d made his disdain for the Wardens known.

“Fools who see what they do not understand and destroy it. We could capture the old gods, study them, but they’re so blinded by their honor- pah!”

It was not as though Danarius had ever taken steps towards such a goal, he’d never seen a darkspawn Fenris was sure, not as Fenris now had. If Danarius had met the Architect, would he have tried to understand the talking darkspawn? Or would he have pissed himself and fainted? Fenris was fairly certain it was the latter.

Fenris was fearful, yes, but he’d been a Warden for years now. He’d found a home not even Danarius could take from him, not without treaties tying each nation to the independence of the Wardens triggering and sending the world to war with his former master.

Only a Magister could be so arrogant as to ignore that, and Danarius was among the most arrogant of them all. Who else would attempt to stand toe to toe with the Warden Commander, the renowned Hero of Ferelden, in her own keep?

“And I told you, he’s with me,” Leda ground out, her feet planted firmly, hands primed to send an arrow straight into Danarius’ neck. It didn’t matter her weapon was sheathed, she could put an arrow through his eye before Danarius could get more than halfway through summoning energy for a spell great enough to deal them sufficient harm. “And so long as he is, you’re never going to have anything to do with him again. Are we clear, Magister?”

Someone so small should not have been intimidating, but then many would say the same of Fenris and his wiry muscle. Had that not been part of the appeal to Danarius? Well, Fenris couldn’t say. He remembered so little, even after the Joining had crashed into his broken memories like a wave.

With what few scraps of memories that he clung to, Fenris knew exactly how much time he’d spent hiding behind others. He rested one gauntleted hand on Leda’s shoulder as he stepped around her, the same that had a gold ribbon tied around his wrist the precise color of her hair. He would not hide behind her today.

“Danarius,” Fenris said before his old master could enrage the rest of the Wardens assembled. “I am a Grey Warden. I have been one for years. By the edicts Tevinter signed with Weisshaupt, that makes me a free man. Do you mean to press your claim on me?”

Danarius’ twitching fingers were answer enough. It was a shame for him that Fenris had gained so much experience slaying far more frightening creatures than a mere Magister. His fist was embedded in the Magister’s chest before more than the slightest spark could coalesce.

“Your candor is appreciated.” Fenris’ voice was level even as his companions clashed with Danarius’ minions, keeping master and slave safely away from those who would interfere. Even Anders joined the fray despite their constant bickering. Later, Fenris might feel touched. “Your remains will be returned to Minrathous, though I doubt there’s anyone there who would mourn you.”

What else Danarius might have wished to say was only blood pouring from his lips once Fenris pulled back his fist.

When all was quiet and the bodies were away, Fenris and Leda curled together in her chambers. Some might think he was shackled to the Wardens, tainted, doomed to die when his Calling inevitably came, but he had never felt so free.

#dadwc #Fenris/Aeducan adjacent #Warden Fenris AU #no idea if that tag will continue to exist but it's fun to think about #dragon age drunk writing

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catofadifferentcolor · 2 years

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Terrible Fic Ideas #8: DA:I, but make it female!spirit!Inquisitor

If you haven't noticed, I've been on a Dragon Age kick lately. One of my favorite AUs is A Herald Named Desire by ushauz, wherein the male Qunari Inquisitor is really a desire demon in disguise. It's a lovely story - the discussions on slavery and religion and agency make me insanely jealous I didn't write them, and the whole chapter covering why exactly Anders blew up the Chantry is A+++ - if occasionally too cracky for my tastes.

But also made me wonder: what if the Inquisitor was a Spirit of Curiosity?

Just imagine it:

Normally the only thing that exists in the Fade are spirits and demons. A mortal falling out of it makes no sense. So instead of one of the default Inquisitors falling out of the rift we get a Spirit of Curiosity who was, well, curious about the Conclave.

I suppose any spirit would do, but I want a Curiosity spirit because the idea of a happy-go-lucky Inquisitor who is delighted to be chained to Haven's chantry floor, asking a thousand questions a minute of her captors from why am I here? to why is it so cold? to oh, is this what pain feels like? I don't think I like it amuses me greatly.

Cassandra and company aren't inclined to believe the spirit (whom I will call Aisling from here on out) is actually a spirit. Instead she assumes Aisling is exactly what she looks like: a young Dalish elf who has never left her clan before and may be a touch soft in the head. It’s not until they run across Varric, who confirms that Hawke’s apostate informant and paramour from The Tale of the Champion was really cover for the spirit who basically grew up alongside Hawke, whom he is disgustingly in love with.

Which is to say: young!Aisling came across young!mage!Hawke while he was dreaming in the Fade and the two became fast friends and, later, romantic interests. This has the side effect of 1) causing Bethany and Leandra to survive, because Aisling is always poking about and watching while Hawke is awake, and 2) all of their dating has been done in the Fade while Hawke is dreaming, which is difficult to say the least, though he's aware of her to some degree while he's awake.

Also, a Hawke that has a tendency to ask a thousand questions, because he knows Aisling is watching and dying to ask them herself.

Either way, you now have a Spirit of Curiosity as Herald of Andraste. (And, later, as an inquisitive Inquisitor.)

The plot basically proceeds as in canon, but with the side effect of both the mages and the templars being recruited - because if Aisling asks why not? enough times eventually everyone gives in.

Hawke shows up earlier too - probably right after the first trip to the Hinterlands - and makes a scene while doing it. It starts with him demanding they release Aisling (believing her to be bound and forced to work with the Inquisition) and ends with Aisling throwing herself into Hawke's arms like a scene out of a rom-com. It's disgustingly saccharine.

Fenris also tags along, because getting him and Dorian in a room together is something I want desperately in DA4. (Romance or bromance, dealer's choice here.)

There's some tension over whether Corypheus can bind Aisling, as with Cole. Unlike with Cole, it turns out she doesn't need an amulet because she bound herself to Hawke when she was newly formed. Some angst with this, as Hawke worries this means he forced their whole relationship, but quickly resolved as fluff is the goal.

Add in a whole bunch of embarrassing shenanigans regarding what it means for an immaterial spirit to suddenly become flesh, starting with does she need to eat? sleep?, reaching an embarrassing height with will she menstruate and who will explain reproduction to her if she does?, and concluding with Hawke and Aisling stumbling through non-Fade sex for the first time.

But mostly its happy-go-lucky eager-puppy Inquisitor who loves talking and asking questions of almost anyone; a charming Hawke tagalong who loves watching the chaos his oldest friend and lover (not always inadvertently) creates with her questions; and the Inquisition slowly learning that just because Aisling comes across as painfully young and naive doesn't mean she doesn't understand what's going on or is incapable of taking care of herself.

Bonuses include: 1) Dorian and Hawke constantly having to keep an eye on how much time Aisling spends in Skyhold's library, because she'd spend every second reading at the expense of basic self-care if allowed; 2) at least one instance of Aisling asking increasingly personal questions of a disagreeable noble until they stomp off in an embarrassed rage, at which point those watching realize that she was doing it intentionally to get the horrible man to go away; and 3) Aisling conducting what amounts to a lot of cognitive therapy and/or socratic questioning with nearly every troubled, troubled member of the Inquisition, to varying degrees of success.

And, of course, every joke that can possibly be made about a curious, questioning, inquisitive Curiosity Spirit running the Inquisition.

As always, feel free to borrow, just let me know if you do.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

#da:i #da2 #dragon age #plot bunny #fic ideas #dragon age 2 #dragon age: inquisition #purple hawke

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theladyofdeath · 3 years

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Heels {Rowaelin}

The prompt: walks in front of their crush in stripper heals and a short skirt because they want their attention

Rowan x Aelin os

Written with @snelbz

There was no way this could be a good idea.

Aelin was sitting on her bed, watching as Lysandra flicked through her closet. She had told her that tonight was the night and had recruited her to help her do what she considered nearly impossible.

She was going to get the attention of Rowan Whitethorn.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know she existed, it was quite the opposite. He was one of her friends, having met during orientation week their freshman year, and as their group grew, so did their friendship. But after three and a half years, she had very solidly gotten her stuck as just that: his friend.

“You’re wasting your time,” Aelin crooned, flipping through the timeline on her phone.

“Bullshit,” Lysandra muttered, flipping through the clothes in her closet. “You need to feel confident, Aelin. Rowan is obsessed with you, and you’re obsessed with him. This whole thing is ridiculous.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, but remained quiet.

“How about this?” Lysandra asked, pulling out a denim mini skirt and black halter cropped top. As Aelin was about to reply, Lysandra said, “Say nothing. Put it on.”

With a roll of her eyes, yet again, Aelin did as much. Once she had the skirt and top on, she looked in the mirror.

And she looked hot as hell.

“Shoes?” Aelin asked, despite herself.

“Oh, I have the perfect heels,” Lysandra said, fleeing from the room. She came back a moment later with a pair of black stilettos that were Aelin’s size.

Scoffing, Aelin held them up. “I’m going to break my neck.”

Lysandra snorted and flounced back into the bathroom where she continued to straighten her hair. “You’re exaggerating.”

“Fine,” Aelin amended. “I’m going to break my ankle.” She set the shoes on her bed and joined Lysandra in the bathroom to finish getting ready.

She let Lysandra curl her hair, but drew the line when she offered to do her makeup. They had very different styles when it came to that and while Lysandra looked drop dead gorgeous with her cat-eye liner and ruby red lips, Aelin would never be able to pull it off.

“Where is this party even at?” Lysandra asked, pulling her hair back into a stylish ponytail.

“Lorcan’s.” Aelin was trying to keep her hand steady as she applied the thin line of liquid eyeliner to her upper lid. “I think Elide convinced him to throw it.”

Lysandra snorted, applying her mascara. “Sounds right. Lorcan isn’t exactly the host-type.”

Aelin grinned, tossing her eyeliner in her makeup bag. “Alright, hurry up. I want to make my entrance.”

With a roll of her eyes, Lysandra took one last look in the mirror and declared herself ready and they were off.

Lorcan’s apartment was just on the edge of campus, so the two girls walked and earned the eager glances of many as they did so.

Aelin took it as a good sign.

“Will Aedion be here tonight?” Lysandra asked, shooting a glance over at Aelin.

She groaned. “Probably.” She still couldn’t believe that her roommate actually had the hots for her cousin. He was practically her brother and the thought of him in any sort of compromising position made her want to gag. “If you hook up with him tonight, please do it at his place. I can’t afford therapy on my barista’s salary.”

“Trust me,” Lysandra said, adjusting her ponytail as they approached the steps to Lorcan’s. “I plan on giving you complete privacy at the apartment tonight. And you better take advantage of it.”

Butterflies grew in the pit of Aelin’s stomach.

She planned to, hoped to, wanted to…but, she had to catch Rowan’s eye first - something that made her nerves go haywire.

Lysandra must have caught it, because they stopped outside of Lorcan’s door and Lysandra made Aelin face her.

“You look gorgeous,” she said, and brushed Aelin’s hair back. “He’d be an idiot not to come after you.”

That was the goal, after all. Aelin was not going to be the one doing the chasing. She wanted Rowan to see her, want her, not be able to take his eyes off of her. She knew he’d be here, the party was at his best friend’s apartment, knew that everyone from their friend group would show up. Yet she was absolutely fucking terrified he’d see her and have zero reaction.

She played it off with a joke though. Scoffing, she tossed her hair over a shoulder. “He’d better. I didn’t book an emergency appointment with my waxer for nothing.”

If Lysandra noticed the fake bravado — which she absolutely did, she and Aelin had become as close as sisters over the past three years — she didn’t call her out on it. Instead, she smirked, smacked Aelin on the ass, and said, “Then let’s go get your man.”

The music could be heard from a block away, and when they opened the front door, the apartment was already packed.

People definitely noticed them come in, though, including Elide who was running towards them, a drink in hand. “It’s about time you two showed up!”

“The host himself isn’t here to greet us?” Aelin mocked, giving Elide a hug.

Elide chuckled as she rolled her eyes. “He’s been out on the balcony for about a half hour, avoiding all human interaction.”

“Sounds about right,” Lysandra replied, rolling her eyes, but then she began looking around the spacious townhouse Lorcan and Elide shared. “You haven’t seen Aedion tonight, have you?”

Elide gave Aelin a knowing glance, but said, “Last I saw, he was playing beer pong with Fenrys. Don’t know who the poor bastards getting their asses handed to them were, but they’re probably still in the kitchen.”

Lysandra gave Aelin a wink. “Good luck.” And then she was gone, lost in the bodies dancing to the music.

Her part in tonight was done, to help Aelin get Rowan’s attention. It was all up to Aelin now, so Lysandra was free to find someone to occupy her own time. Even if the thought of who she’d be with made Aelin want to shudder.

Alone with Aelin, or as close to it as they could be, Elide let out a low whistle as she finally took in Aelin’s outfit. “I have a feeling that outfit isn’t just to impress me.”

“Does that mean you’re not impressed?” Aelin asked, pretending to pout.

Elide looped her arm through Aelin’s and led her to the bar. “I’m always impressed, but I don’t think you care so much about my opinion, do you?”

Aelin snorted as she began to look around, but Elide saved her the struggle.

“He’s on the patio with Lor,” Elide said, simply. “Don’t worry. I’ll drag his ass back in here soon and Rowan will follow.”

Elide poured them both a shot, which Aelin gladly took and even asked for another. But when Manon and Asterin Blackbeak showed up, she waved Elide off to go greet her friends, and leaned against the bar, debating on a third shot.

She wasn’t trying to get shitty tonight, just a little messy, but her nerves were beginning to grow again.

Just as she decided to say fuck it, and get another shot, and heard a whistle from behind her. She turned and found Dorian Havilliard staring at her legs.

Or maybe he was staring at her ass.

They had messed around her freshman year, when his dorm room was just down the hall from hers, but it had never been anything more than that between them, and they agreed that they were better as friends. It didn’t mean they didn’t have fun though.

She smirked as she tossed the glass back and set it down on the bar top, before turning to him. “See anything you like?”

“I see quite a few things I like,” he said, raising his drink in salute. “Then again, only a fourth of your skin is covered, so there’s a lot to look at.”

Aelin laughed, quietly, and clinked her empty shot glass against his full bottle. “Gotta show off what the gods gave me.”

“As you should,” he agreed with a wink. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

“Well, it is school, and I actually study,” Aelin said, turning to refill her shot glass.

Dorian had the audacity to look offended. “Hey, I study, too.”

Aelin laughed as she turned back around. “Reading a bunch of books that have nothing to do with any of your classes doesn’t count as studying, Dor.”

“But they’re so much more interesting,” he replied, chuckling as he thought of the boring curriculum he studied for his pre-law degree.

Aelin rolled her eyes as she tossed back the shot and set it behind the bar. Four shots was enough. She’d be fun, she’d be confident, but she wasn’t tipsy enough to make an ass of herself.

Yet.

“I assume all of this skin isn’t for me, so who are you trying to impress?” Dorian asked, and then added, with a wink, “Chaol?”

Huffing a laugh, Aelin shook her head. “Absolutely not. That ended in a disaster and I’m not inclined to repeat it.”

The sliding glass door opened and Aelin’s eyes snapped to the door, before she quickly turned away before Lorcan and Rowan stepped inside.

“Oh,” Dorian chuckled, softly. “Whitethorn then.”

It wasn’t a question.

He had moved imperceptibly closer and she knew how it would look to Rowan. For whatever reason, she decided she wanted him to be jealous she was talking to another guy.

Even if she had no idea whether or not he’d even noticed her.

“Is this who I am now?” Dorian asked, quietly, leaning into her ear, fully aware that it looked like he was coming onto her. “Your super hot wingman?”

Aelin snorted, and didn’t bother moving away. “My overly cocky wingman, maybe.”

Dorian huffed a laugh. “I still take it as a compliment.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be flirting up Manon instead of fake flirting with me?” Aelin whispered, quietly. She glanced at Rowan, who was filling up a red solo cup.

“I like to make Manon wait,” Dorian said, running a finger up Aelin’s forearm. “She gets jealous, too, and it makes things so much more exciting in the bedroom.”

“Thanks for the image, Dor,” Aelin said, pushing away the need to roll her eyes and flick him in the nose.

He and Manon weren’t exclusively in a relationship, but everyone knew they hooked up with each other, and only each other. But, again, totally not exclusive.

“Besides,” Dorian mused, his finger skimming Aelin’s arm. “She’s busy doing body shots with Asterin. I’ll enjoy her later.”

Aelin snorted, reaching behind the bar and pulling an ice cold beer from the open cooler. She handed it to him and he opened it for her, flicking the cap in the air as if it were a coin.

He let it fall to the bar top as he leaned in to whisper in her ear one last time. “Pretty sure that’s my cue.”

She followed his gaze across the room, and found Rowan looking at her. Watching her and Dorian both.

“Have fun,” he added, before sauntering off towards the kitchen.

Rowan watched Dorian walk away to the other side of the room where he sat to watch Aedion and Fenrys continue to dominate in beer pong.

When Rowan’s eyes trailed back to Aelin, she was already watching him, a slightly-forced mischievous smile on her lips.

On the inside, she felt like she was going to puke.

He made his way across the room, pausing in front of her and slipped his free hand into his pocket. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” she said, and she wasn’t sure why it sounded so breathless.

“I didn’t see you get here,” he said, taking a sip of his beer.

She did the same, fighting the urge to toss her hair over a shoulder. “You were outside.” She realized that told him she was keeping tabs on him and she quickly added. “I mean, Elide told me Lorcan was outside, so I assumed you had to be with him.”

He smirked. “Right. Well, I was. It’s a little crowded in here.” She nodded, but he went on. “However, seems like you didn’t mind when Havilliard was over here with you. Not too crowded for you, then, huh?”

Aelin slowly lifted a golden brow. If Rowan wanted to play, she would play. “Not crowded enough for someone to be blocking your view of me with Dorian, apparently.”

A light lit up Rowan’s green eyes as his jaw twitched, suppressing a grin. “I can always count on you to manipulate my words and their meaning, Galathynius.”

Aelin’s grin was wide. “Someone has to keep you in your place, Whitethorn.”

“And is that you?” He asked, voice low as he took a drink from his cup. “The person that’s going to keep me in my place?”

Aelin’s eyes glittered as she took another drink. It was always easy with Rowan. They could talk for hours, that witty banter, back and forth. But, that’s all that had ever happened between them: simple conversation.

From the way she caught him watching her legs as she took a drink, though, she thought tonight may just end up as she planned.

A hell of a lot more than simple conversation.

“Want to dance?” She asked.

His eyes slowly slid up her body to meet her gaze. “You know I don’t dance, Ace.”

She took a long, slow drink from her bottle. “Not even with me?”

“Not with anyone,” he said, crossing his arms and resting a hip against the bar.

It was a miracle no one had interrupted them, but the bulk of the drinks had been set up in the kitchen.

“That’s a shame,” Aelin sighed, finishing off her beer and tossing the empty bottle in the trash can. “I would love to dance, but I don’t have anyone to dance with.”

Rowan said, “I’m sure you can find someone, especially with how you’re dressed tonight.”

She raised an eyebrow and looked at him. “And how is that?”

“Don’t get me wrong, you look drop dead fucking sexy,” he replied, without missing a beat. “I just don’t get why.”

“What do you mean?” Aelin asked.

“Why try so hard?” He asked, head cocked to the side. “Who are you trying to impress?”

Cocky bastard. She could see it in his eyes, he knew what he was doing and she hated him for it.

Hated that she loved it, anyway.

“What need would I have to impress anyone?” Aelin asked, chin raised. “I think I’m naturally perfect in every way.”

Rowan chuckled. “Then you should’ve come in your sweatpants and a tank top.”

Aelin rose a brow.

Rowan shrugged. “I think that’s when you’re sexiest.”

With that, with his cup pressed to his lips, he turned and walked away.

Aelin blinked after him, not sure she was sure she heard him right. He made his way through the people and headed back to the door leading out onto the balcony, stopping to say something to Lorcan. He waved him off and then Rowan was slipping back outside, while Aelin just started after him.

She pushed her way through the crowd, which was easier said than done when you weren’t a six-foot-four giant who mildly scared the shit out of everyone by scowling at them, but she eventually made it to the door. Sliding it open, she stepped out into the balmy night air.

“You can’t say shit like that and then just disappear,” Aelin said, finding him exactly how she’d expected to.

Rowan was leaned against the wall, the sole of one booted foot pressed against it as well. A lit cigarette dangled from his fingers. She gave him shit about smoking all the time, but knew he only did it when he drank.

Or when he had something on his mind.

He held the cigarette out to her, but she gave him a look. “You know better than to offer me that.”

Rowan just grinned and put it back between his lips. “You’re missing the party.”

“What did you mean?” Aelin asked, standing opposite of him, leaning against the railing.

“When?” he asked, looking up at the sky.

“Don’t bullshit me, Rowan,” she snapped, and it got his attention.

Blowing a puff of smoke into the cool night air, he met her gaze and slowly shook his head. He gestured to her outfit, to the heels that were making her feet ache. “What is this?”

“They’re clothes,” she said. “For a party.”

“They’re Lysandra’s,” he replied, simply.

“I can’t wear my roommate’s clothes?” Aelin scoffed. “What the hell is wrong with you tonight-.”

“Why can’t you just admit that you’re just trying to impress someone?” he interrupted, watching her, that light in his eye fading. “You’ve never been not-confident a day in your life. Whoever it is that you’re trying to impress, he obviously isn’t worth it if it causes you to be someone you’re not.”

Aelin looked down at the cropped halter top, the skirt that hardly reached her thighs, the heels that she was certain would cause blisters. “This is someone I’m not?”

Rowan slowly shook his head. “Last time we went out, you wore that little golden slip dress….” He shook his head, reminiscing on the memory. “That was you. You wore sneakers and you were still barefoot halfway through the night, dancing on the patio. What you’re wearing now - yeah, you look gorgeous - but I can tell you’re not comfortable in it.”

“If I’m trying to get someone’s attention, maybe my usual isn’t best. Especially if it pushes me out of my comfort zone,” she snapped back, her hands on her hips. “And why is it such a problem if I’m trying to impress someone? Dorian was impressed.”

“Dorian doesn’t drool all over you like a dog in heat,” he replied. “He respects you, regardless of what you’re wearing, how much skin you’re showing off. But if you’re trying to impress some D bag who will only notice you if you’re dressed like that, you might want to reconsider.”

“And what if I was trying to impress you?” She asked, getting in his face, cigarette smoke and whiskey breath be damned. “What if I was trying to get your attention, Rowan?”

His jaw locked and his eyes searched hers, as if he was trying to find the underlying meaning in what she was saying, even if there wasn’t one.

“Then you’d be wasting your time,” he said, at last.

It felt like a knife had been shoved into Aelin’s ribs with every word that had come out of his mouth. Begging herself not to cry in front of him, she went to take a step away, but Rowan grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him.

Their chests were nearly touching, and his hand trailed from her wrist, into her hand, interlocking his fingers with hers.

He took the cigarette from his lips and said, “You’d be wasting your time because you impress me every time that I’m around you.”

“You never act like it,” she breathed, shaking her head. “You never do anything, and you’ve never tried to make a move. What the hell else was I supposed to do?”

He flicked the cigarette over the rail and let go of her hand, only to frame her face with both of his. “This.”

And then his lips were on hers, and Aelin didn’t care that she could taste residual smoke or stale beer. She knew she didn’t taste much better. All that mattered was that Rowan was kissing her and his hands were on her face and hers were tangled up in his shirt. His tongue slid against hers and she had to fight to stop the moan that threatened to slip out of her.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. “That,” he said, breathlessly. “That is what you should have done to get my attention.”

Aelin swallowed, harshly. “Do it again.”

Rowan didn’t have to be convinced. His hands slid down her back as he brought his mouth to hers, and he pulled her body uptight against his. They stayed out there for a long time, for hours, uninterrupted.

At one point, she saw Dorian come by and lock the balcony door, so everyone else would get the hint to stay the hell away.

Wingman of the year.

They stayed on the balcony, kissing and laughing and kissing some more, until the party wound down. Around two, Lorcan let them inside, and Aelin pulled Rowan out of the apartment and across campus to her own.

True to Lysandra’s word, she was nowhere to be found.

The second Aelin stepped into her apartment, she kicked off her heels and was swept into Rowan’s arms. He carried her into her bedroom, where he stripped her down, out of her roommate’s clothes.

Rowan Whitethorn saw all of her.

She had his full attention.

#rowaelin #rowan #aelin #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #sjm #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #prompts #collab #snacmc

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majjiktricks · 2 years

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2, 5, 6, 10, 13, 21, 23, 24, 31, 33, 34, 42 48, 54, 64, 74?

god damn this took some thought... its 2am tho i'll blame my slowness on tired brain LOL

questions from this post!

2. First game you played? my first console was a ds lite so it had to be a game from that... i wanna say it was pokemon heartgold? that sounds right...

5. Game with the best soundtrack? this is SO hard... i love video game music very much... i can do top 3 maybe... pokemon b/w, stardew valley, the witcher 3. i would list ace attorney but i dont actually know what soundtracks go to which games because i always listen to series soundtrack compilations LOL

6. An underrated game from within the last few years? i genuinely dont think ive played anything recently released that hasnt gotten its due attention... most of the games i consider underrated are older or simply old enough to no longer get the attention they once did. if 2017 is "recent" then prey 2017. its a beautiful game with a good story and solid gameplay. i think it was overshadowed by other projects by arkane, but it still deserves attention.

10. Prefer PC or console? PC absolutely. i am much more comfortable with a mouse and keyboard than i am with a controller. that said, some games ARE significantly better played with a controller (yakuza, furi, hyper light drifter, etc)

13. Scariest game you've played? i tend to avoid horror games because i get little enjoyment out of being scared in a mental sense. i enjoy thrill rides and carnival games, but not thriller media, yknow? the scariest game ive ever played was prey 2017 by arkane studios because i didnt know it was a survival horror game when i bought it LOL

21. If you had to play one game for the rest of your life, what would it be? something multiplayer so i could do it with my friends and never run out of things to do. maybe ARK survival evolved, or minecraft. ive been playing overwatch since it first came out, so maybe that.

23. Favorite genre of video game? rpg or immersive sim i think. rpg because i love fantasy-scifi and those tend to come in the format of rpgs, and immersive sim because i LOVE it when you get to pick exactly how you get to accomplish your goals.

24. Ever cried because of a video game? i cant remember exactly. i probably have. the closest thing i can remember is being really emotional about the ending to yakuza 6, but i dont remember if i actually cried or not. tears of frustration, however, ABSOLUTELY.

31. Game with the best theme song? legend of zelda series. i cant think of a more iconic theme that works for any game of its catalogue.

33. Favorite female npc? my brain's immediate answer is mia fey. i cant explain exactly why but i love that lady very much. shes only around for a short time in the games but man. i also remember really liking josephine in dragon age inquisition, though its been so long since ive played it, i cant remember why.

34. Favorite male npc? i.. hmm. i like quite lot of them. to pick one? fenris dragon age. hes up there in the amorphous unranked blob of npcs i like.

42. A game you will never forget (in a bad OR good way)? borderlands 2. ive played that game so many times (of my own volition or not) that i have most of the story and quests memorized and can quote verbatim a decent number of lines if i encounter the scene theyre played it. i love the game to death, dont get me wrong, but i will likely not play it again for a looooong while.

48. A game you've always wanted to play but have never gotten to it? final fantasy and/or kingdom hearts. i read the kingdom hearts manga for a short time as a kid and was fascinated by it, but ive just never gotten around to picking any of them up.

54. A sequel you really want? a sequel to deus ex: mankind divided. i just wanna see adam jensen again... man deserves a proper ending to his story, and mankind divided was NOT it.

64. Describe your favorite video game using only three words. this requires me to establish a favorite video game... have you noticed i am bad at picking one-above-all favorites yet? hmmm. bodyguard's revenge quest.

74. Which game has the best lore? i cant speak for the "best" lore but for the lore i was the most invested in? probably dragon age. ive played all three games start to finish, read most of the lore in the games, and own almost all of the comics and one of the books.

#jazz noises #inbox #ask meme #coffeemakesmeahappybean

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saintlethanavir · 3 years

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OC Interview: Calliope Tarenan Laskaris Lavellan

INTRODUCTION:

1. Can you introduce yourself?

I am Lord Inquisitor and Lethanavir, Calliope Tarenan Laskaris Lavellan Pavus. Creators, that’s getting almost as long as Cassandra’s introduction isn’t it?

2. What is your gender identity, orientation, and relationship status?

That’s…going to be just as long of an answer as the first. Gender isn’t much of a concept for us in my clan, we do what we want. They or he pronouns by themselves or together is fine, please refer to me as a man. I prefer the company of men, as one of my husbands would say. Which answers your next question, I am married.

3. When and where were you born?

Oh, one moment. Uh. I was born in 9:01 Dragon, the month and day equivalent would be..the sixteenth of Harvestmere? I believe. It’s difficult to pinpoint where exactly but I was born somewhere in the Emerald Graves.

4. What is your weapon of choice and your fighting style?

Before the events of the Exalted Council I preferred two handed weapons, and would wield a greatsword. Now I am outfitted with a blade not unlike Madame de Fer’s spirit sword, though I am no Knight Enchanter. Large bursts of magic and aggressive styles are more of my thing, I like to get personal.

5. Lastly, are you happy?

That’s quite the question. Sometimes. Other times are very hard, ‘this world demands so much of us, we must take what we can do when we have it’ a friend of mine once said. That’s how I live my life.

FAMILY AND FRIENDS

1. What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

Ah, yes. I have quite a large extended family and even a larger nuclear family than most probably have. We can be boisterous and would be thrown out of parties if it wasn’t for my talented husband, Magister Pavus, keeping everyone around us in check.

I have an alright relationship with most of them. The Hawkes I get along with quite well, though Calix’s husband is wary of me still. Fenris, Ophelia, and Sam go with me for drinks often. My twin brother is the one I’m closest to though, we visit our clan from time to time together when he’s not off on Warden business. Our parents and paternal family branch live close, so they’re never far behind should we need them. They all dote upon my son, Athim, I swear he’d be spoiled by them if he wasn’t already by his fathers.

2. Have you ever ran away from home?

I would rather not answer this question, especially asked from a stranger. Next.

3. Would you ever consider marriage or having children?

Self explanatory, I think. I was always a marriage type, it was important to me. Children on the other hand…well, Athim was unplanned but certainly not unwanted. I will not be having more children, hopefully, though.

4. Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

Absolutely not. Jokingly, maybe, but never truly. You would know if I hated you and you would not be my friend.

5. Which friend knows everything about you?

I’ve been told it’s cliched to say Cole, though that would be the obvious choice. Unfortunately, I would say it’s Solas, but a true friend doesn’t stab you in the back, now does he? So..strictly a friend? Varric. He was there for me when no one else could be, from the beginning. I will always love him for that.

ASKED BY FANS

1. Are you literate? Have you been to school?

It took me quite a few years but I am literate, yes. Elvhen is my first written and spoken language, second Orlesian, some Tevene, then Trade. I have not been to ‘shem’ school, no, I was raised with other children learning from the elders of our clan. We learned minor magics, history, religion, survival, etc. The University of Orlais has reached out to me, but I’m not sure I want to go given then history.

2. The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

I jokingly made a comment about a birthmark on my chest, right above my heart, that I must have died in jn a duel in a previous life. Falon’Din was killed by Elgar’nan this way.

3. What was something you were embarrassingly late to realize?

Oh please, do I need to answer that? Aside from Solas..probably the realization I had fallen in love with my partners. Can we move on from this question?

4. Do you have mental health or physical problems?

Yes, clearly. My arm. Blind in my left eye. Aside from that..not really? I’ve had some chronic pain since I was little from larger injuries, chronic headaches. But nothing major. My mental health has always been in question, I’ve been told I have what’s called post traumatic stress and have had hallucinations since I was a child.

5. What is your current main goal?

To keep Solas away from my son and make sure the world doesn’t fucking implode again.

CHOICES

Drink or food?

I have to choose? Food.

Cats or dogs?

Both but I will be disowned if I say that, so dogs.

3. Optimist or Pessimist?

Pessimist, much more now at least. Optimism got me far but..it’s been a rough time.

4. Sassy or sarcastic?

Are they..not the same thing? Sarcastic, I suppose.

HAVE YOU EVER

1. Been caught sneaking out?

Oh yes. My mother caught me leaving our tent one night with my twin brother so we could catch fireflies, but she just went with us instead. I…don’t want to explain why I haven’t snuck out since.

2. Broken a bone?

Are you kidding me? Yes. All the time.

3. Received flowers?

Dorian sent me a whole hedge for our wedding anniversary once, I killed them immediately. Never was a green thumb. Bull is in charge of flowers now.

4. Ghosted someone?

What? No. Is that something someone truly does? That’s awful.

5. Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

Of course. What do you think I was doing at the Winter Palace during the ball?

Tagged by @siennamain !! I tag anyone who wants to do this!!

#thank u friend!#calliope lavellan #dragon age #txt

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kingandfireheart · 3 years

Text

@ssardothien has asked me to lay out my case for Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius as compared to Casteel Hawkethrone Da'Neer (see this post which describes exactly why Casteel is my #1 undisputable fictional crush.)

So here an incomplete list of why I love Rowan Whitethorn:

He's beautiful. Silver hair, green eyes? The physique? The TATTOOS? PINE AND SNOW? The strength? The gentleness? He's perfect.

Even though he was enslaved to a terrible terrible queen, he came out of it with a mostly intact moral compass. There's no moral dilemma or indecision about what he should do or what is right? He's just like "yeah I'm not a mass murderer anymore" and doesn't struggle with it

He's fucking sexy. That scene in Queen of Shadows where he says he doesn't want an audience. Like DAMN. That was really it for me. Like Rowan went from "hot" to "sexy as hell" with that one line.

The DEVOTION. Like "To Whatever End." "I claim you". Sure, he spends some time feeling guilty about Lyria, and sure he tries to deny his feelings for Aelin, but he's never unsure about working for/with Aelin. Once he's in, he's in. There's no leaving Aelin, there's no backing out. He's just a fulling sending Aelin simp.

The casual intimacy. Like even in Heir of Fire, he and Aelin are just so comfortable. They literally sleep in the same bed, he holds her hand, he's just there, you know? In a way that is comfortable

The Heir of Fire Bonus Chapter. Knowing that he loves her even then. That they don't want to be seperated, that he felt so comfortable telling her about Sollomere. The jokes about Remelle? priceless.

He's kind of a gossip and I love it. Breaking the shield around Dorian and Manon? Revealing Aedion and Lysandra? The comment about Elide holding Lorcan's leash. The fact that he understands what Fenrys and Aelin mean to each other. He's just in tune with people and isn't obnoxious about it.

The Eye fucking Conversations. I feel like this is where we see Rowan's sense of humor the most. He's sassy without saying a single word.

"Fireheart" Like this man takes terms of endearment and kicks a 70 yard field goal (yes this an american football reference, it's the only sport I understand, the longest field goal ever is 64 yards). Like one word that says so much.

He's not afraid to take charge of a situation, but it doesn't hurt his ego. Like he's good with making a battle plan and executing it, and he's also good with following Aelin's lead, without having a conniption about it. He trusts her to take care of herself, and the only time he second guesses her is when she has to sacrifice herself.

The way that he loves Aelin, but his kindness doesn't end with her. There are a lot of fictional males who are nice to just the love interest, or are weirdly defensive. But Rowan isn't like that. He's kind to Aedion and Dorian and Elide and Lysandra and even Fenrys, Gavriel, and Lorcan in KOA. He doesn't rage to the other members of the court when Aelin is taken. He's not rude to Chaol in QOS, when he may have reason to feel jealous or defensive. Once he starts opening up in HOF, he doesn't ever stop.

The Wyrdmark tattoos. The map home. I can't write more about this without crying.

GIVE ME TWO FICTIONAL CHARACTERS AND I'LL TELL YOU WHICH ONE I'D RATHER DATE

#rowan whitethorn #throne of glass series #sara tag

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dungeons-and-dragon-age · 3 years

Note

varric 5 and anders 3 for both, carver 3 for lilian and bethany 4 for liam?

Thank you for the ask! :3

What was your Hawke’s opinion on Varric’s chest hair?

Liam:

Looks very soft, would like to pet. Not that he'd admit that; as if he'd give Varric that satisfaction. Definitely teases Varric for it though. Varric teases him right back, naturally.

Lilian:

Very sexy. He knows what he's doing. They have a thing going on though where every time Varric (or anyone else) mentions his chest hair Lilian will refuse to acknowledge it, so Varric of course tries to get her to do exactly that and they both know they're doing it on purpose but they're having a lot of fun with it.

What was your Hawke’s relationship with Anders like before the Chantry explosion? How did the explosion change their perception of him?

Liam:

They weren't super close and did quarrel sometimes (Liam got fed up with Anders anatoginsing Merrill and Fenris, and Anders was frustrated with Liam's passive stance in the conflict (even tho he did side with mages whenever it came down to it)), but generally got along well. Liam did feel increasingly unsure about Anders because of his whole Justice situation and because he could be so unpredictable, but he'd also constantly try to drag Anders away from work and get him to take care of himself, even offering that he could stay at the Hawke estate and/or use the estate's basement for better protection (the secret entrance was right next to the clinic after all).

Their relationship did grow less friendly towards the end, with Anders' Act 3 quest being the main trigger for them distancing themselves. With both of their states of minds being what they were at that point Liam refused to help Anders after trying to blackmail him into doing it in the name of friendship, Anders felt confirmed in his belief that he couldn't rely on anyone else for this, both of them felt disappointed and abandoned by the other, fun times for everyone.

The Chantry boom didn't exactly help but in the face of everything else that was happening didn't have a big impact on their relationship in the long run.

Lilian:

Ironically, Lilian and Anders were probably less close than Liam and Anders. They were on good terms for the most part and held a mutual respect for one another, but at the same time they clashed more because they had such different approaches for the same end goal. Lilian didn't trust Anders' judgement due to Justice and his general mental state, believed he was being too biased and simultaneously too optimistic with his methods. Anders was skeptical of her unapologetic use of blood magic and thought her methods were too rash and risky.

Lilian grew increasingly suspicious of Anders as he started being more secretive, the biggest red flag being, again, the Act 3 quest, because she does n o t appreciate being mislead and lied to. At all. Especially not after what happened with Isabela -- she's learned her lesson.

She ended up executing him for a whole variety of reasons and continued to have very mixed feelings about him afterwards.

What sort of relationship did your Hawke have with Carver? Did they attempt to be friends or did they become rivals with him?

They actually had a pretty good relationship, all things considered. Carver still had his inferiority complex and Lilian still has eldest daughter syndrome (luckily not as bad as liam tho), but Lilian is someone who, while very assertive and protective, also makes a point of giving people space and agency, which makes Carver much less antagonistic towards her than he'd could be. During their escape and first year in Kirkwall they realised they make a pretty formidable team, which definitely helped build their relationship too, but Lilian didn't realise just how much she cared until Carver was conscripted into the Wardens.

How close were your Hawke and Bethany before they fled to Kirkwall? Did they grow closer or drift farther apart once they were settled in Kirkwall?

Liam's always been pretty close with Bethany, but they grew inseparable after Carver died. They both felt guilty for what happened, they both felt responsible for each other and their family, and they both found comfort and strength with each other more than anyone else. Bethany was pretty much the only person at that time he'd let himself be vulnerable with, and losing her was a hard blow.

#fhfsdjh sorry this one got rambly x'D #also made me realise neither of my hawkes have the best relationship with anders...#thanks again for the ask tho! <3 #oc: liam hawke #oc: lilian hawke #my ocs #oc asks

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merinnan · 3 years

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Fic Tag Game

Grabbed from @hils79, because it looked like fun.

Name: Merinnan, which I’ve gone by for... fifteen years now, I think? Prior to that, I mostly used Calicia (and sometimes Zoi).

Fandoms: Like Hils, I’m only going to list the fandoms I’ve actually written fic for.

Star Trek: My very first fandom, and the one I’ve written the most fics for (so far - I suspect that DMBJ will overtake it. It certainly already has in terms of word count). I was (and am still) primarily a DS9 fan, and was a huge Kira/Dukat and Garak/Bashir shipper back in the day. Most of my Trekfics are DS9 fics, but I also dabbled a little bit in TOS and TNG, and had one or two crackfic crossovers that involved Voyager characters. Discovery has tempted me with a few fic ideas, but I haven’t written anything for it yet.

Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon: aka, the show that first had me seriously questioning my sexuality. Look, Haruka and Michiru are #goals, don’t judge me. This is also where my Zoi name came from, after the first season villain Zoisite, whom I cosplayed several times. Unsurprisingly, my main ships are HaruMichi and KunZoi. Despite this fact, neither of my published Sailormoon fics are HaruMichi.

Bubblegum Crisis Tokyo 2040: A short-lived fandom, but one I still liked enough to write a fic for and get the OST CD.

World of Warcraft: I wouldn’t say I’m really part of the fandom, per se, but I’ve been playing since the dying days of Burning Crusade, am a huge lore nerd, and started writing a crossover fic that is currently on indefinite hiatus. I do plan to come back and finish it, but first RL got in the way, and now I have to try and remember where I’d actually been planning to go with it.

A Court of Thorns and Roses: That crossover fic I just mentioned? Yeah, this is what it’s a crossover with. ACoTaR fandom went sleepy for awhile, but it’s back up and kicking now that A Court of Silver Flames is out - if any of you are still following me, it’s great to see everyone active again! To the surprise of no-one who knows me, I’m a big Nessian shipper.

Mo Dao Zu Shi / Chen Qing Ling / The Untamed: I came to this fandom via ACoTaR, actually, after a certain person (hi, @rhysand-vs-fenrys!) wouldn’t stop gushing about it :-) This is the fandom that really and seriously got me back into regular fic writing again after 15-ish years. I’m a multishipper here, and have written / am writing WangXian, NieLan, XiCheng, XuanLi, and XiSang.

Guardian / Zhen Hun: MDZS fandom led me to Guardian, which, along with DMBJ, has devoured my life in a way that hasn’t happened since my Star Trek days, and I love it! WeiLan is my major ship, but I’m also quite fond of the DaMian life raft.

Zhu Yilong: Yes, I’m going to list a person as a fandom. Zhu Yilong is one of the stars of Guardian, and is both incredibly pretty and an incredibly talented actor. So much so that I have suffered through some truly terrible dramas just to watch him in them. I do not write Z1L-fic, since RPF of living people is a personal squick of mine, but I am working on a massive crossover fic of most of his characters.

Mo Du: Guardian led me along to more of Priest’s works, such as Mo Du, which is now officially my favourite book, and I adore the main WenZhou ship. The Mo Du fandom right now is pretty tiny, and I’m still working on my first fic for it, but I hope that it will grow with the donghua due out this year, and the drama having just started filming.

Daomu Biji / The Lost Tomb: I initially came into this fandom because of Zhu Yilong, who played Wu Xie in the Reboot / Reunion / Chongqi drama, and then I got sucked into the fandom pit of all of the books and dramas and spinoffs, and it’s wonderful and fantastic. I have written so much for it, and have so much more planned. PingXie and PingXieSang are my main ships here, but I’m also a HeiHua fan, and very much enjoying the RiSang pool noodle that @kholran created.

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort and crack are my major ones.

Fic I spent most time on: A toss-up between Endings and Beginnings and Reunion, both DS9 fics. Endings and Beginnings is an alternate ending to the show, while Reunion is a Gul Dukat-centric fic set around, oh, season 5ish? Both were written for and initially published in print fanzines, so in addition to time spent writing, there was a lot of back and forth for editing, etc.

Favourite fic(s) you’ve written: Look, I honestly couldn’t say. I like most of the fics I’ve written, and there are several that I’m really proud of and really like.

Fic I spent least time on: Silent Graves, a super angsty DMBJ/Lost Tomb Xiaoge fic. I think I wrote it in like 15 minutes.

Longest fic: Cat’s Paw, a DMBJ/Lost Tomb PingXieSang canon rewrite fic I co-wrote with @xantissa, at 247 826 words. For fics written by just me, not with a co-writer, then that would be Nevermore, my WIP MDZS/CQL XiCheng Pacific Rim AU, at 22 276 words and counting.

Shortest fic: Every entry in my DS9 Drabbles series, with each one at exactly 100 words. Although if you count them as a quintdrabble, then Indiscretion (a DS9 missing scene vignette about Gul Dukat, set during the episode of the same name) at 169 words.

Most hits/kudos/comments/bookmarks/subscriptions: The answer to all of these is either Cat’s Paw or Nevermore, so I’m going to give the next highest.

Hits: Those who fear darkness have never seen what light can do, a DMBJ/Lost Tomb PingXie supernatural AU fic co-written with xantissa.

Since this fic also takes the highest kudos, bookmarks, and subscriptions after Cat’s Paw/Nevermore, I’ll skip to the next fic along on each of those.

Kudos: Stars fall like diamonds, a DMBJ/Lost Tomb PingXie missing scene fic from Reboot/Reunion/Chongqi.

Bookmarks: A Knight in Bloody Armour, another DMBJ/Lost Tomb PingXieSang supernatural AU fic (but a different supernatural AU) co-written with xantissa.

Comments: Ears and Other Related Calamities, yet another DMBJ/Lost Tomb PingXieSang supernatural AU fic (of a different again supernatural AU) co-written with xantissa.

Subscriptions: The Rescue Job, a Guardian WeiLan Leverage AU, currently at one chapter complete and posted out of a planned five chapters.

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: We have plans for a prequel and a sequel to A Knight in Bloody Armour, and a spinoff fic for The Zhang Identity (a DMBJ/Lost Tomb PingXie AU that is complete but not yet posted. It will be posted in April as part of the Small Fandoms Big Bang).

Share a bit of a WIP: This is from an as-yet-unnamed post-canon fix-it fic for the Guardian drama:

It was hurting again. Zhao Yunlan curled up into a tight ball under the hospital blankets, trying to ignore it enough to try to get back to sleep. He knew it wouldn't work, because he couldn't remember a time when it ever did, but it was always worth a shot, right? He squeezed his eyes shut and held himself tightly for a few...moments? Minutes?...before grabbing his stuffed cat and clutching it while he forced himself to breathe deep, slow breaths the way the doctors back in Spring City had taught him.

Eventually, the pain died back down to its usual dull ache, the one that was bearable and let him play, and watch TV, and do school lessons with his mother. One day, she said, they'd find a doctor who knew what was wrong, why he hurt all the time, and the doctor would give him medicine that would keep the worst pain away so that he could go to an actual school and meet more kids than the ones who lived in their apartment block or who frequented the same playground that he liked to go to.

Zhao Yunlan tried closing his eyes again, seeing if he could go back to sleep, but he was far too awake now. He sighed, sitting up in bed and looking around the room. Again. It was just like the hospital rooms in Spring City, and in Kiyota City. He figured that if the doctors here in Tomorrow Mountains couldn't help, his parents would take him to yet another city, and the hospital rooms there would probably look the same, too.

Then, over the faint beeping of hospital equipment, and the quiet murmurs further down the corridor of nurses at the nurse station or seeing to other patients, he heard a soft sniffling sound, like someone was trying not to cry too loudly. He picked up his stuffed cat and looked at it.

"What do you think, Dead Cat?" he asked it. "Should we go and find them?"

Dead Cat didn't answer, of course, but that didn't stop Zhao Yunlan from assuming that it agreed with him, and slipping out of bed. His feet touched the cold tile floor with barely a sound, and, still holding Dead Cat tightly, Zhao Yunlan padded over to the door. He looked up and down the corridor, then left his room to track down the sniffling noise.

He wasn't surprised that it came from the next room. He was surprised that it came from another kid, a boy who looked to be about his age, huddled in bed and wiping his eyes.

"Hi," Zhao Yunlan whispered. The other boy looked up in surprise, then stopped to clutch his chest as he began to cough. Once he'd finished coughing, Zhao Yunlan and Dead Cat were perched on the end of his bed.

"I'm Zhao Yunlan, and this is Dead Cat." He held up Dead Cat, moving one of the paws to wave hello. "What's your name?"

The boy wiped his eyes again. "Shen Ye."

I tag: ALL OF YOU! Are you a writer who hasn’t done this yet? Consider yourself tagged if you want to be.

#fanfic meme #dmbj #daomu biji #guardian #mo du #star trek #ds9 #bishoujo senshi sailor moon #sailor moon #mdzs #cql #acotar #bubblegum crisis #world of warcraft #zhu yilong

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felassanis · 4 years

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WHY FENHAWKE IS IMPORTANT. FENRIS ANALYSIS.

(I’m not saying you have to romance fenris, if you do not like fenris you do you boo boo romance a fucking candelstick. I just have to put this ‘disclaimer’ even tho it’s obvious, cuz we have easily offended geezers up in this fandom who have accused me before of having ‘acted superior with my romance choice’ and all that bollocks.)

Kinda long, kinda detailed, but I had a lot of fun thinking about this. Also, I am not analysing Rivalmance, I am analysing scenes and dialogue from Fenris’s ‘nicemance’’ mentions of mental illness but nothing triggering.

Fenris’s story in Dragon Age II has a outer layer and an inner layer. The outer layer is of course fighting for his freedom. Becoming a free man is his conscious desire. In order to get this Fenris will do anything from never staying in one place for too long to killing anyone that comes after him. This ‘becoming a free man’ is the obvious story regarding Fenris. It’s the first thing we learn about his arc: The slave who wants to be free. And it’s up to our Hawke to help him achieve that.

But, we also have what I call the ‘true story’. His inner layer or ‘subconscious’ desire surrounds the element of revenge, overcoming trauma and learning to move on. It’s the story of Fenris we will eventually learn about and slowly uncover as the game progresses.

Fenris deep down wants to move on. It’s not just about being free, Fenris knows he wants to be free. He is fully aware of that. What he doesn’t acknowledge however, is that in order to be truly free he’s got to learn to accept what has happened to him, accept it was out of his control and accept that it is in the past. But....he won’t.

I will admit, Fenris’s speech can be hella emo and overdramatic, the way he talks is extremely gothic novella and the writers could have done a better job at showing not telling. But, the reason he talks the way he does about ‘plagues in his heart’ and whatnot, is to exemplify the complete and utter turmoil this elf possesses. You can tell he’s thought about it a lot, because he talks so poetically that you can’t help but think ‘no one naturally talks likes this’ it shows he has overthought the emotions his past has caused at great lengths. I guess, you could analyse it as ‘no one talks that way, unless they’ve rehearsed it’ which yes, I think he has rehearsed it to some degree. Not to sound purposefully broody and meloncholic just for the aestheitc; he just knows with full clarity how it makes him feel and he’s able to describe it naturally in that articulated manner.

I highly doubt he even knows he’s doing it honestly, his speech is very different from the other characters. Anders for example also suffers from trauma and mental health, but he doesn’t speak like this. For Fenris it just comes naturally...

Every time we talk to Fenris before spending the night with him is about slavery. We find him running from slavers, we kick down the doors to hunt down his slave master and he talks to Hawke about what has happened to him regarding his days of being a slave. The topic of slavery is heavily ingrained into his character but the game isn’t doing that because Bioware wants you to think ‘OOH he’s so angsty and broody! He’s such a tormented soul don’t you just love him?!’ Nah, Bioware is merely saying that this character’s past was so horrifying that he simply cannot get over it. He talks about it so much because it has engulfed him; he’s not free of the chains as Flemeth said.

The ‘chains’ she’s referring to is that ‘slavery’ has very much swallowed his whole identity. He’s not yet willing to claw his way out of the jaw of his past. He’s both unwilling and likely unaware he talks about it so much with Hawke.

The only other conversation where it’s not heavily discussed is when him and Hawke discuss the theme of home in his first one on one. It becomes very clear that Fenris has not had a home in a long time due to being on the run, he asks Hawke why they haven’t returned to Ferelden and nearly every option Hawke has is pretty much ‘Kirkwall isn’t so bad, I’ve built a life here’ or ‘my family is here, I have roots’ to which Fenris will sound...longing. Exhibiting a clear desire to have his own place to call home, yet he won’t come out and say it. Hawke says “It sounds like you want to settle down,” and Fenris will respond “I could see myself staying, for the right reasons,” and I just...look, he is deliberately giving himself an out when he says that. ‘The right reasons’ is a clever way of Fenris setting up an escape plan for when his paranoia inevitably settles in and it’s time to pack up and move on. ‘The right reasons,’ yeah, we both know Fenris, that when you decide it’s time to go you can then just be like ‘I haven’t found the right reason to stay’ and run. But the reason you haven’t found the right reason to stay, is because you are not MAKING a reason to stay!

Moreover, his second one on one? Where if you flirted with him he’s like ‘You’re amazing, but I’m a slave...why would you want me?’ here, Hawke is beginning to represent that ‘right reason’...a reason he could stay, and that gives him some food for thought, as well as some potential fear...This is repeated when the flirting gets a bit more heated durng the second conversation. Where’s he drunk (I think?) and him and Hawke dance around ‘getting to know each other’ only for Fenris to suddenly back out.

A good quote, ‘if you feel as though you have no place in the world, you must make one,’ is something I think resonates with this elf. He doesn’t have a purpose in the world, he is on the run constantly with his past eating away at him. But he does want purpose, he’s just unable to grasp it. His story is about carving himself a new purpose, a new future.

Now, obviously...Fenris can’t really settle down. Not until he’s stopped being hunted which will only occur when Danarius is dead. I’m obviously not glossing over that and saying ‘Fenris is a bitch who won’t move on’ that’s not what I’m saying AT ALL. He has good reason to not stay in one place and he has good reason to paranoid. But, Danarius and the slavers? that’s not the inner conflict that I’m trying to analyse. Danarius and the slavers are an obstacle, they are the physical hurdles he has to jump over. So, yeah I know Fenris cannot do any of what I have said because of those hurdles, but he also can’t do any of that until he’s dealt with his inner conflict; which as I said before is him learning to move on and accepting the past.

The inner conflict NOT BEING ADDRESSED is exactly why after he kills Hadriana he feels EMPTY. In the moment that he is face to face with someone that caused him so much pain; she bullied him to no end and like any person Fenris loses it. All those years of abuse...he has the chance to exact his revenge and he does it. However, after being consumed with hatred for so long and at such an intensity...what is left? Now she’s dead...he feels nothing.

I want to point out that Fenris says ‘I couldn’t let her go, I wanted to...but I couldn’t’ at first I when I heard this line I was a bit confused. But thinking about it, Hadriana isn’t just a character in Dragon Age. In Fenris’s story she represents a chapter in his lifethat Fenris THOUGHT HE HAD CLOSED. He says ‘This hate...I thought I had gotten rid of it’ Hadriana represents Fenris’s rage...Hadriana while a complete fucking bitch, isn’t Danarius. Danarius is the one that haunts Fenris. While I have no doubt that she deserved to die, and I shudder to think what she might have done, she isn’t as bad as Danarius. Fenris...could have let her go, and if he had done then it would have represented some ounce of moving on...but he kills her, he gives into his rage and kills her.

Fenris had convinced himself that he was over it to some degree, but he isn’t. So once her blood laments his hands, it is a revelation to him. A scary one...and that is why he feels ‘disquiet’. Or alternatively, you could see it as Fenris perhaps ALWAYS knowing he was not over his hate deep down, but Hadriana finally brought it to light. His hate has always been quelling inside of him, but it’s only really after Hadriana, does Fenris finally fucking realise it. So when it’s revealed to him, it becomes too much for him to handle hence why he stomps off leaving the party. Thus, beginning Act 2 of Fenris’s story...

Sorry for all of that, but now I’M GOING TO TALK ABOUT HAWKE.

After he leaves the party, you will find Fenris at Hawke’s estate waiting for them. Now that hot, emotional fury has lifted from his senses he’s ready to be nice again and say sorry.

After apologising; Hawke as concerned as always, asks him if he’s okay...and Fenris, without being drunk, will be completely honest with Hawke. He will confess the conflict he is feeling, he’ll describe what Hadriana made him feel and he will confess how her death left an emptiness inside of him...I don’t doubt that Fenris is a reserved person. He’s not one to voice his problems and past. While the entire cast of DAII know Fenris was a slave, I feel like only Hawke truly knows the details. However gory. The Fog Warriors story truly shows how much trust he has for Hawke, that isn’t a story that paints him as the good guy...yes, to some degree he was a victim but he did murder people who only wanted to help, who were willing to fight for his freedom. The Fog Warriors are parallel to Hawke, they were people he respected and looked up to just as he does with Hawke yet he killed them. Him telling that story...my god, imagine how hard that must be. Hawke is doing the same thing for him that the Fog Warriors did, but he trusts Hawke so much that he feels like they should know.

Back to the romance scene, he is completely vulnerable in that moment. After his rant he has a moment of clarity and realises he’s distanced himself from the original goal of meeting up with Hawke. They’re so easy to talk to he forgot himself. So, he’s about to leave. Until Hawke reaches out for him.

THE KISS SCENE, wow...ok. The armour design defintely had a hand in it, we know his arms are showed off in that armour because he’s not keen on hiding them, he won’t hide from the slavers who know exactly what those markings mean.

Hawke grabs HIS SKIN. As they try to stop him from leaving they touch his skin...

Back with Hadriana when Hawke can reach out for him, they grab his shoulder, the part of him that’s cladded in thick leather (or whatever the heck it’s made out of)...nothing happens. HERE THEY TOUCH HIS SKIN. All that SPIKY armour! And Hawke is close enough to Fenris that they can reach out and touch his bare arm.

He glows, and while it can be speculated, the lyrium seems to briefly cloud his mind and instinctively he seems to think he’s being hurt, on reflex he slams Hawke against the wall. He appears angry, hostile...could be the lyrium defending him...but it’s probably more to do with physical abuse....

I love seeing that blue cloud fade from his eyes, as he slowly slips back to reality and processes what has just happened. His animation shows him stepping back, slowly because he must be thinking ‘I have just made this worse, I came here to apologise, and these damn markings just made me attack Hawke’ in this moment Hawke sees Fenris in a state. The Lyrium, the ‘magic that has spoiled him’ took over...he probably thinks they ought to be mortified. But instead? Hawke kisses him.

Hawke has seen him in the state he probably feels disgusted by. There’s no way this hasn’t happened before, where he’s lost control. And he probably feels akin to a mage succumbing to a demon. But Hawke...Hawke just loves him, and wants to make him feel loved. They saw that flicker of horror in his eye as he pinned them against the wall, and they just would want to blow it out.

Of course Fenris is going to reciprocate. There’s no one he respects more, no one he trusts more (nor fancies more :) ) and after he did what he did they still kiss him. Finally, it is here that Hawke represents a future, and for that night he’s willing to have a taste of that future. To feel happy and loved, to forget about his past and focus on Hawke...

Then, the past comes to bite him in the arse.

He remembers his life before the the lyrium. Suddenly, without warning it is then stolen from him. He lost his life TWICE.

He lost it twice because of the Lyrium, the lyrium inflicted upon him by Danarius, the Magister who fucking...well, you know. The Magister who enslaved him and others and who has been sending out slavers to hunt him down, the very same slavers Hawke and Fenris fought that very day...the slavers that ambushed him and Hawke.

See where I’m going with this? Fenris recollecting his memories only to lose them is a double edged sword. One side, it’s clearly devastating and anyone would be disturbed if their whole life just vanished so suddenly. And if being with Hawke is just going to repeat that then you can’t blame him for wanting to end it. But also, Hawke? This human that represents a potential future? Being with them made him remember the past, the past he is still haunted by and clings to. How can he have a future with someone when being with them is tainted by the past?

I had a whole rant about this in another post so I won’t ramble too long since this post is already a thicc bitch but...Fenris cannot delve into a relationship with Hawke. He isn’t ready for the committment when he’s still being haunted by the past, both physically and mentally. Before he can have a future, he needs to work on himself in order to be ready for that future. He needs to kill Danarius. Now we circle back to him overcoming his obstacles and finally achieving his subconscious desires.

I said that mental illness is reallt well portrayed in Fenhawke because Fenris and Hawke are seperated for YEARS. Yet, the beauty of it is that Hawke waits for Fenris. They stay by him, they support him and protect him and they remain at his side until the day they finally get to witness him pull out Danarius’s heart. It utterly evokes the beauty of good relationships such as patience, compromise and adoration of all flaws. Yes, they seperate and yes I know people got a bit mad. However, Fenris leaving Hawke strengthens their bond.

Fenris is the one who closes the chapter on Danarius, because as I have said if you are struggling with mental illness only you can help yourself and take the steps to recovery. There are the lucky few who have others surrounding them that will be of support and of course that helps...but it is down the one person to realise they are drowing, and it’s up to them if they grab the lifeguard.

With Danarius dead, once again that feeling of numbing emptiness prevails and instead of getting angry Fenris owns up to the fact that...he needs to move on. That if he’s ever going to be happy he needs to accept what happened to him. Whether or not you let verania live, it was important for Fenris to think he could have reclaimed the past. Because this time when he is once again proven wrong it finally clicks that the past has nothing for him anymore. I do wish he could have had a family, but...it is kinda fitting that Verania is a mage, that she isn’t interested in reuniting with Fenris. The ties have been cut, the past isn’t the answer.

He feels alone. Obviously, that’s not tue, because guess who’s been by his side all this time? And who is standing there right now, looking upon him with much love in their eyes reminding him ‘I’m here Fenris,’

That smile, *swoons* that smile. :’) As though Hawke has said something so bloody obvious. Making him smile because ‘yeah, he should have known that’ And that MY FRIENDS, Is probably when Fenris is already concieving the possibility of spending the rest of his life with Hawke...RIGHT THEN AND THERE.

Fenris has a long way to go to move on, but the important thing is is that he’s now finally willing and able. He doesn’t know where it will lead, but whatever or wherever it leads he’s going to walk it with Hawke. He talks about wishing he had stayed with Hawke when he finally confronts them with what happened between them all those years ago. He says that because now his head is clearer and he sees what he should have done. But Fenris sweetie, you had to go through what you did in order to be the man you are today, it’s ok that you made mistakes. You’re here now and so is Hawke.

A platonic bond with Fenris is important, but Fenris and Hawke probably never see each other again if that’s the case. If you romanced him, Fenris flees Kirkwall with Hawke. He ain’t leaving their side, because they are his future.

Fenris has a fucking amazing arc, bioware did really well with him and his romance was so well done and I love analysing his behaviour. Hawke really helps him get through his trauma and they are there to take his hands and lead him down the road to recovery. This was a romance DONE RIGHT

thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

#Fenris #Dragon age #dragon age 2 #daii #da2 #dragon age ii #hawke #fehawke #fenris x hawke #fenris analysis #plz reblog this took me fucking hours lol

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lethendralis-paints · 4 years

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Artist Meme

Was tagged to answer this set of interesting questions by @kourvo

(original post is here: https://kourvo.tumblr.com/post/621355098110640128/artist-meme

Thank you so much for that!

Let’s see....

1) What is the character you've drawn the most (Can be original or fanart)

This precious boy. I can never get enough of him. One of the most compelling characters I have ever come across. Love everything about Fenris and can relate to him on so many levels!

2. What colour do you often use?

Gray and brown are my faves. And all other colours have the same chance of appearing in my artwork :D

3. Any colour you are bad at using?

I don’t think so...I love them all, even the pinks and yellows people usually find hard to incorporate into a colour palette. Tell me in the comments if I’m wrong :)

4. When drawing people, where do you start?

Funnily enough - either with the front of the hairline or with the left eyebrow. Don’t ask me, why - I don’t know myself.

5. What is a character only your eraser will love?

Hmmmm...any sort of villainous character. I can’t draw evil people convincingly. I’m a huge softy at heart.

6. Which of your works took the longest time?

Big scale commission I did for @pikapeppa, featuring all the Inquisition companions, along with Fenris, Rynne and Carver Hawke. That one took almost 3 weeks, due to its sheer scope and my relative lack of experience in such large works. Pika was extremely patient with me though, for that I am eternally thankful!

7. What techniques do you use when you want to improve in drawing?

Classical art studies. Varying my technique, themes I choose and software I use. I try to experiment and go outside my comfort zone often.

8. What do you think of the art of the person who gave you this ask meme?

I adore Lillymon’s technical skill, refined style and limited colours! She is a huge inspiration for me!

9. What art tools/media are you good with?

DrawPile, Photoshop, graphite pencils and liners. That’s about it :)

10. Art tools/media you are bad at?

Traditional paints. I have no formal artistic education and my lack of knowledge comes to the forefront whenever I have to paint on a real canvas. It’s so much trial and error, you can’t even imagine....

11. What do you think about your own art?

Lately it’s one of the last few things that were bringing me joy. I hope I won’t lose the passion for it. Because at this point I’m not sure I’ll be able to find some occupation I will be genuinely interested in and good at it. I don’t know if me gravitating towards moody fantasy art speaks about my fear of facing reality. If so, idk what to do with that. I do hope to develop my skills and being able to support myself financially as an artist.

12. Do you consult references for your drawings?

Yes. A lot of them. Anatomical atlases, schemes for both academic and manga art, photographs found online and taken on my own, copying colour palettes from classical art - anything goes. I think it’s essential to develop your technical skill.

13. What do you like about your art?

Lately - consistency, both in terms of produced results and in sticking to the timelines I set to myself. I hope this lasts. I would also like to branch out to other themes and not confine myself to quirky fantasy characters, so I’m working on developing my own story behind the scenes (spoilers) :P

14. What habits do you have while drawing?

Only the bad ones, lol. Hunching forward in front of the screen, forgetting to eat, drink and letting my eyes rest. Tilting my head to the side instead of rotating the canvas....I’m an idiot XD

15. Are you good at drawing faces facing right?

I think that’s the thing I’m good at!

16. How frequently do you draw?

For the last 1,5 years - almost every day without fail, for good or ill.

17. What do you do when you have artist's block?

Change occupation and work myself into a depressed state. I changed work places in the last few years a lot, working as an interior designer, draftsman, textile designer, a cook, a bartender to name a few.

18. What must you have when you draw?

No commotion around me and a cup of some hot beverage.

19. Do you have a lot of stray lines (messy lineart)?

In the starting stage of my work process - yes, like you wouldn’t believe! If it’s a personal doodle, I sometimes just leave in as am under layer and draw clean lines on top of that mess. It looks cool in a way.

20. What is drawing to you?

An essential part of what helped me to retain my sanity in the last year and a half. Hopefully a lasting profession that will help me pay bills and survive on my own, if my life falls apart entirely later.

21. Your art goal from now on?

Broaden the themes I depict, improve my technical skill, work on personal creative project and not only fan arts. And most of all - not giving up on it this time.

22. Artists you've had influence from?

To name a few: @kallielef @kourvo @shayafury @fairsparrow who I met here on Tumblr, and many others who I follow and zealously study their works for clues on how to improve my own work.

23. Artists you like?

I am following them all either here or on Instagram, I also do my best to share their works on my side blog!

24. Which is easier to draw, humans or animals?

It was animals earlier. But now that I started to diligently study human anatomy, I would say it evened out! I’m quite confident drawing humans/humanoids now!

25. Show us an old drawing

My first digital drawing from 2010 when I first bought my tablet!

26. What is the charm-point of your art?

I ummm....I don’t really get the question? Is that like the the strongest suit of me as an artist? Intense expressions maybe? Idk. Let me know in the comments :D

27. What is the first thing you would draw if we're talking about fantasy?

Broody warriors, he-he

28. Please draw your most beloved character:

Here’s a sneak-peek of me drawing him right now! :D

29. When thinking of characters is it mostly female? male? or androgynous/no sex?

I usually gravitate towards depicting strong-willed, caring, passionate, brave, honest men and women.

30. What did you draw yesterday?

Started cleaning up that sketch from the last question, actually!

31. What is the funnest part to draw?

A circle. Mostly because you’d die laughing seeing my struggle to draw a believable one XD

32. What part of other people's drawings do you notice first?

colours, mood, eyes, hands.

33. Regarding backgrounds, what is your method of making it easier to draw?

pick your favourite textured brush, find a good reference for mood and colour scheme, zoom out, squint your eyes and start slapping colours like mad. You’d be amazed at how much you’ll be able to achieve in 30 minutes with this approach. Bare white background is the enemy - destroy it! >:)

34. What colour coordinations do you like?

Gray or brown as a main colour and then deep, earthy, saturated colours to complement the main one. Pink and orange is the combination I strangely enjoy using lately too.

35. What character did you last draw? Fenris and Eris :)

36. Does your style change easily?

I don’t think so. More like it’s evolving slowly into something more serious and deliberate.

37. What part of drawing do you pay most attention to?

Facial expression, body movement, mood and light effects. Not so much the composition and framing, he he.

38. How do you feel about drawing adult art?

Tbh, I don’t consider straight up porn to be ‘adult’ exactly. To me adult art means aiming towards serious topics, exploring complex emotions and ideas, being honest with your viewer. I did doodle a few more steamy sketches of my OTP just to see if I could, but it was definitely a tongue-in-cheek kind of a artwork that I don’t take seriously.

39. Do you like criticism from others?

If it’s friendly and in done in private - I welcome it always.

40. How many people do you normally draw per artwork?

1 or 2. Rarely more. Crowded battle scenes are definitely not my thing :D

This was fun! Tagging forward to @shayafury @schoute @stella-minerva @nug-juggler @kallielef and anyone else wishing to go through such a long questionnaire!

#artist meme #art questions #art style #lethendralis rambles #my art

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crqstalite · 4 years

Text

crossroad.

a majority of this was done during a writing sprint (edit, half of it was) but i couldn’t just let it fade away! so instead, because i’m still upset about anders [and i miss bethany + fem!hawke], here’s a post!da2 work for you and me.

word count: 6,083.

“are you afraid? of what lays after all of...this?” bethany’s voice. reyna tries not to jump, but inevitably, she does. her sister is no longer in her circle robes, instead dressed down with her hair tied back, “the gallows are gone, the circle is gone, meredith is dead, orsinio is dead...”

“please, bethany. for the love of andraste do not panic.” reyna tries not to snap at her, but she does it anyway, picking through what things she can fit in her pack. the red scarf she’s donned around her neck comes undone, and she pulls it away roughly before shoving another shirt away, “donnic and aveline are staying here, and you’re staying with them. you’ll be perfectly safe, there’s no reason to be afraid.”

“i-” bethany hesitates, then resigns to sitting on the bed, picking at her sleeve, “i asked if you were afraid, not what i was going to do after all of this.”

“you know what i intend to do,” reyna yanks the suitcase out from under the bed roughly, the latches clicking open as she flicks a bandaged hand over one.

“running away from kirkwall into the night isn’t a plan, rey.” bethany responds in a nagging tone tinged with genuine concern, folding her legs on the bed, “it’s an escape route.”

“and that’s exactly what i need, whether you like it or not,” reyna responds, folding a shirt away into the bag at her side. she’s avoiding bethany’s deep brown eyes, the same ones that she knows will be crying out to keep her from leaving, or to force her to leave sooner. but reyna has made her decision, she can’t come back from this, “the templars will sniff me out soon enough. and because they can’t use me as some example of a mage gone rogue with the chantry’s brand, they’ll kill me for this.”

bethany doesn’t answer after that, and they sit in silence. she feels bad about talking to her like that, but she has to. bethany is twenty five now, she isn’t a child like when they first arrived in kirkwall. she can handle herself, should anyone give her trouble and aveline isn’t around to protect her.

it wasn’t an option she liked, but she trusted aveline with her life -- no matter how much they squabbled before over morals and reyna’s own questionable actions towards the templars as of recently. bethany would be safer here under the protection of the guard captain than with her on the road.

“you’ve been here for two days, and you said you’d leave earlier this week.” bethany’s voice is quiet when she speaks up again, the jangle of keys in her hand when she gives them to her, “what are you waiting for?”

reyna bitterly chuckles, “are you trying to get rid of me too, dear sister?” she asks, remembering how aveline had advised the same thing to her. kirkwall was still reeling after she’d hidden out with the vallens for a bit to let it blow over long enough to trek home without suspicion. the others...they’d be safe. they couldn’t go after fenris, they wouldn’t know of his involvement and merrill and isabela would be out of town within the month on isabela’s ship. and varric?

varric always had a way out. she didn’t know how this time, everyone knew he was involved with her, but he assured her he’d find a way.

she still sat up, waiting for the cellar door to open those two nights she spent in her own home since then. and yet...it doesn’t. it remains closed, and locked.

did he wear it that night?

“no! no of course not, reyna if i could go with you--” bethany cuts herself off, a frown on her face when reyna rises from her knees, pushing the half empty case back under the bed, “you know that i would. i just...don’t want you caught. everything is so...crazy right now. why are you staying so long?”

“it doesn’t matter. i’m leaving tonight, less templars out and the guards will be able to get me out of the city before knight-captain rutherford even knows i was back in hightown.” reyna shrugs, retying the scarf around her neck. the sun was due to go down in just a bit, the sky still playing with colors of a deep pink and the black encroaching upon it. the guards would switch into their night shift soon.

“that’s...not it.” bethany follows after her as reyna throws the pack on over her shoulder, “you know that’s not what it is.”

“why are you so desperate to know?” reyna quips back, biting her lip to keep from yelling. she knows why, she knows exactly why she’s still here and not heading for the hanged man to sail with isabela. and yet..it’s still stupid to admit out loud. it’s beyond foolish, and the same thing that got her mother in trouble before she was born, “surely you don’t intend to gossip with isabela.”

“reyna...” bethany gives her a look that’s reminiscent of leandra’s, and she cringes back from it. she knows bethany is only concerned from her safety, concerned about her, but she’s more concerned about her’s. and that hurts. reyna was the reason they even had to be careful, the reason bethany had to change her name and cut her hair. and yet, here she was, still caring about her foolish older sister after it all.

it infuriated and wounded her at the exact same time. bethany’s hand brushes her shoulder as she pauses at the door frame, and reyna tenses at the touch against her bicep. why why why had she done all of this? she could’ve just let meredith go on her tirade, turned a blind eye. they had such a nice cushy house here in hightown, and now the amell estate would surely be passed over to some other templar allied noble once everything was in order. they would’ve won and lost their mother’s childhood home within a decade.

but no. she’d let her own interests blind her to the real goal. she couldn’t stay incognito long enough to let herself even enjoy it.

“reyna, please. just tell me, that way i can help. that way i can find whatever it is you’re looking for.” another beat of silence, “i know you don’t like talking about what bothers you, or makes you angry for my sake and everyone elses’ sake but sometimes people genuinely want to help you. i want to help you.”

“like how meredith helped the mages?” she asks coldly, and bethany’s eyes are startled and hurt but the words keep pouring out of her mouth, “like how orsinio helped the mages? like how i -- how i helped anders? you can’t help me, bethany.”

her sister freezes, a grimace on her young face as reyna tries not to look over her shoulder before turning on her, “like how i put everything aside to stand behind him when he needed me? and i cost kirkwall their circle, their knight enchanter and their knight-commander? like how i helped kirkwall?”

“you did help!” bethany argues, reaching out to take her hand. reyna snaps it back, “you helped so many people while you were here!”

“at what cost! at what cost did i help everyone back in ‘34, and then lose mother to a blood mage? at what cost did i help by keeping you out of the deep roads, and then losing you to the gallows? at what cost did i help anders, and then lose the chantry because i was so goddamn blind?!”

“you weren’t blind! you wanted to help us, and you did. you can’t apologize for that reyna-”

“i’m not apologizing! i’ll never sodding apologize for what i believe in, but riddle me this bethany -- do you think the chantry would be a smoking crater if i had said no? if i’d denied the idea that i could split anders and justice? do you think we’d have to leave if i didn’t want to help the mages so goddamn bad that i costed us our place in kirkwall?”

“that’s not your fault. you stood up for what you believed in, you stood up for me!” bethany cries, “that’s not your fault. none of it is. it’s-it’s...”

“it’s anders’. that’s what everyone says, right?” reyna runs a hand through her hair, feeling her hands begin to shake the way they do when she doesn’t feel okay, when she doesn’t feel right. her mother had always been able to calm her down but now she can barely speak.

“no. no it isn’t.” bethany avoids her gaze, “you said you believed in him. believed in what he said. believed in what was right.”

reyna throws out her hands around them, “is this what is right, bethany? templars hunting me down, everyone forced to leave because of me and him? was it right that i let what made me happy blind me to what was the truth?”

“i-”

“no! it wasn’t! i can’t defend my actions, i can’t defend his. i can’t defend how i hunted templars down and then pretended to figuratively wash my hands of the blood that was spilled when the chantry came down!” she’s breathing hard, her chest tight, “i can’t defend anyone’s actions -- there was no compromise, but was any of it worth it just so i could have one more day with him!?”

she doesn’t know where her words have gone. but they’re not there anymore. none to pull on. nothing else to say lest she reveal why she’s still here, nothing left to say that she hasn’t already said twenty times over, nor anything she can say that won’t sound like she’s complaining about the mess she got herself into.

bethany’s eyes glimmer with sad understanding, once she is no longer taken aback by her outburst, “you’re waiting for him. you still think he’ll come back.”

reyna is silent. she knows if she denies it, bethany will pick her apart until she falls apart.

her sister shouldn’t have to listen to her like this. shouldn’t have to pay for her mistakes.

“you believed in him at some point, you cared about him and you were happy, i know you were. and you didn’t want to stay in kirkwall even before all of this. i think the words you used were even ‘these four walls can’t hold me anymore’ the last time you visited.” bethany’s demeanor is soft compared to her own, gently pulling her gloves on, “you...i’ll stay here with you if i have to. reyna if you still love-”

“no! i don’t!” a fire burns inside her as her hands tighten into fists at her side, anger climbing up her throat to choke the words out of her, “i don’t! do you really think that-”

“would you still be here if you didn’t?”

that gives reyna pause long enough to keep from punching the wall next to her. there are holes in her room from earlier, days before bethany had managed to make it out of the shithole of the gallows through varric’s assistance. scars are still just barely healing on her knuckles, and they’re splitting open again from just how hard she’s folded her hands into balls at her side.

“no. you wouldn’t, because you care. you would’ve skipped town already if you didn’t.”

“he used me, bethany. he knew what he was doing and he still did it! would someone who loved someone else really do something like that, without their conscience betraying them?” reyna walks further away from her sister, making to descend down the stairs, “would he still give me all that goddamn praise for what i was doing for the mages in the circle if he really loved me?”

“reyna, you’re not even thinking anymore. of course he loved you-”

“how would you know!” at the bottom of the stairs, reyna whirls on her sister, a fearful look in her matching pair of dark eyes before she even registers it, “how would you know bethany? nobody knew, absolutely no one knew not even me! i’m supposed to be the bloody champion of kirkwall and instead i kept an apostate in my home for upwards of three years, and assisted with destroying the chantry at the same time! all because i thought he cared about me, and i just ignored all the warning signs! i should’ve known, i should’ve said something -- said anything and yet i didn’t because i couldn’t! i was weak and i’m paying the price for it now!”

her eyes sting with unshed tears, frustration taking precedent and building up in her tightening throat, “if he really cared about me, he would’ve told me! that’s what we did, that’s what we always did! i was willing to risk my neck for karl, i was willing to help get a group of apostates out for him, ‘oh hawke is always ready to help’, sodding irresponsibly stupid old me, right?”

“you’re not stupid, you’re not stupid reyna.” bethany bypasses the near shove she gives her sister and instead wraps her arms around her waist, holding tight, “you loved him. you did. i know what losing carver and losing mother did to you. and i know i couldn’t be here for you. i wish i could’ve been. to help you through all of it but i couldn’t. i trusted anders to stay with you, i trusted him to keep you grounded. you weren’t weak. you were stronger than any of us.”

reyna is shaking, her hands stuck at her sides as bethany buries her head in her shoulder. she’s hurt, she’s very hurt by all of this, feeling like she’s been stabbed twenty times over with her own blades when anders had admitted to the crime with a resigned tone of voice, sitting hunched over away from her. expecting death, surprised she did not grant it even at the cost of fenris’ trust. she was aware nothing would change if they didn’t do anything drastic, she’s not wounded by that. she’s destroyed on the inside because he didn’t tell her.

she trusted him with every part of her. told him things that no one would ever hear come from her lips. things she hadn’t even told herself before. they had each other’s backs for years, and that was where the line of trust snapped.

where did she go wrong?

was this her fault? because she’d come off as too much? would he have told her if she pressed him for why his demeanor had changed instead of dealing with everyone else’s problems?

she thought she’d meant everything to him. neither of them had anyone left but each other. he’d been there when her mother died, had consoled her to the best of his ability when bethany had been taken.

and yet?

and yet that still wasn’t enough. it wasn’t enough to trust her. it wasn’t enough to let her say ‘i trust you, and i’m with you’.

love is a strong word for someone who immediately lost all claim on it regarding her.

but?

she would lie if she said there was nothing left for him to possibly reclaim someday. a long time from now, maybe a lifetime.

but not never.

“he did one shitty job of it.” she chuckles darkly, resigning to put her arms around her sister. knowing that this will be one of the few times she even gets the chance in the next few days, weeks, months and maybe even years, carefully as she chokes out her name, “bethany.”

“yes, sister?”

“i don’t...i don’t think he’s coming home.” that breaks a part of her inside, blinking a few times up at the dark ceiling to keep herself from falling apart completely -- why was her sister even still here? she had bigger things to worry about than her washed up older sister, the ex-champion of kirkwall, “as much as i might wish it, i don’t think he will be.”

“he told you he loved him in the gallows, right before orsinio went mad, you know. he was terrified, he was focused exclusively on keeping you alive when we fought meredith. i don’t think i ever caught him with his eyes off of you.” bethany says, gently untangling herself, “maybe it’s not worth atonement in your eyes. i’m not sure. but...” her eyes dart to where the hall ends and the cellar begins a turn later, “maybe he will come back to you.”

does he deserve her forgiveness for that? at all? just because he still loved her before then? because he’d looked her in the eyes, the corners of them crinkling with a look of adoration, of sadness, and had promised her a world where it wouldn’t matter if they were together? how undeniably warm his hands had felt in her’s when their fingers curled together shortly before the ensuing fight against the templars?

she doesn’t know.

she’s so angry that she genuinely wants to hit something. wants to yell at someone, anything. sit someone down and explain why there is a wildfire burning her soul from the inside out, why she so desperately just wants this all to end. wake up from the nightmare that has plagued her for days. will most likely haunt her for the rest of her life.

but she’s also hurt. so makerdamned hurt. where did the trust even go, did it run off or was it never there to begin with? was it worth destroying herself again, on the run with surely thedas’ most wanted mage only because she thought he cared for her?

is that what she wants? or was that decision already made for her?

was it foolish? was it foolish to wait and wait and wait even though she knows the chances of him coming back are slim?

she’d understood -- had said that she knew they’d never be like any normal couple. that she’d have to run, because apostates would never be free. and yet, she’d taken the plunge. had accepted her fate.

all reyna can say is, “i don’t know.”

bethany nods, playing with the deep black curls their mother had given her, before stepping past her, “it’s dark out now. i can’t stay here any longer, sister. donnic will get worried and come out looking for me.”

“i-i know.” reyna responds, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking out the limp curls in her hair from the braid she’d worn earlier, bethany padding closer to the door and pulling her heavy cloak off of the hook, “bethany--be careful.”

“i will. i promise.” bethany says, “as long as you do as well. they will not be friendly to you on the road. anders may not have a phylactery but-”

“they know what he looks like. i know that. that’s to say he even comes by later, though,” reyna takes a breath, trying not to antagonize her sister, “but i will.”

bethany waves, a sad smile on her face before the large door closes, the sound reverberating through the foyer. her calming presence is gone, and reyna feels the cold beginning to seep in her. now that bethany has left, she doesn’t have to pretend she’s okay to keep her sister from worrying more than she already has done. she sadly chuckles, bethany had gotten that from their mother -- a worried hen for all her chicks.

that was supposed to be reyna, watching over her sister. keeping her safe from the templars, keeping her alive. bethany wasn’t supposed to have to come to the estate just to check on her. but she’d been so busy trying to change something that had weathered the pattern of time that she’d neglected everything else. her friends, her family.

herself.

the fire warms her bones to the best of it’s meager ability, her hands regaining feeling. it was a cold night out, she’d have to wear one of her thicker cloaks when she finally left.

this wasn’t how it was supposed to end. and yet here she was, spending the last night in her family home. she says an apology to her mother under her breath, an apology to gamlen even, an apology to her grandparents, an apology to bethany, to carver, to her father.

she’d failed every single one of them.

reyna doesn’t break down. she knows if she does, she won’t ever leave. she’ll just stay here and be sad and cry about the things she can’t control. and she doesn’t have time for that.

she’s supposed to be the strong one. she can’t be that if she’s bawling like a baby.

inevitably, she spends another two hours in the estate, bordering three and eyes barely open while she stokes the fire every few go arounds. she’s ready to leave, bag over her shoulders and conscience weighing down on her like a brick. but she wanders the house instead, listlessly and without a true purpose.

admiring everything they’d earned after so many years. brushing a hand against her mother’s portrait when she stops in the main hall just outside the room that has been locked since her death. the same brown eyes they all shared staring back at her, a small smile that reyna wants to see again. there’s a smaller one of carver she’d had commissioned years ago with her first allowance from the expedition, and it sits next to her’s. she was supposed to have bethany, father and herself done at some point. a family of portraits once they’d properly settled into the estate.

and then she’d gotten busy, and never finished the task.

she hates to say that she used to wonder if she’d get anders done as well, if they ever solidified what they used to have. she pulls her eyes away from the younger leandra, descending the steps again and making sure all the doors are locked. donnic and aveline are the only two with keys to the estate besides anders and bethany. she would not let the templars have her home if she still had any say about it.

she’s near the front door, cloak donned dutifully around her shoulders and gloves donned, daggers hidden in sheathes on her thighs when she hears the distant sound of a door open and close. her whole body freezes, fearful that it’s an intruder. a templar maybe, they’d found the secret entrance to the cellar under the house. it wouldn’t be the first time, and she should’ve known it wouldn’t be the last. of course it would be the day that she intends to leave.

seizing, she pulls her daggers out, gripping the handles with shaky hands before pushing herself up against the wall leading down the hall. she’d left the door open, what a foolish mistake.

boots. the sound of boots against the carpet. quiet, soft. they aren’t trying to announce their presence, but she doesn’t want to take the risk to look over her shoulder into the inky darkness. she recognizes everyone’s footfalls. she had to, that was part of her training while she lived in lothering and it had saved her life more than a few times since she’d moved to kirkwall.

and terrifyingly-

-she recognizes these. the ones that accompany a long night in the clinic, ones that accompany a proper hunt in the city for mages to help escape.

a quiet voice.

a tired voice.

a resigned voice, calling out for her in a way that shatters her before he steps into the light of the fire, “hawke?”

after a moment, she falls apart. tears bubbling up in her eyes as she turns the corner from where she’d pressed herself up against the wall in preparation.

a staff that isn’t quite regulation, and the black robes she was sure were still stained with blood from a week prior.

the amber eyes she couldn’t say no to, hands that had been tangled with her’s only weeks ago.

“anders.”

he doesn’t look well. not at all. exhausted, eye bags looking darker than they had since he’d moved in with her. hair tied back hurriedly, his own robes barely tied properly.

but, there’s a cloak around his shoulders, straps from a pack as well. dark black to surely hide himself from the templars that are swarming darktown like flies on fruit. she doesn’t ignore that it’s the same one she’d given him two years ago in the dead of winter, worn, but she still recognizes the hawke crest over his heart. clear as day, and worn proudly.

or it had been, when it had been given when he’d first moved in and leandra had suggested the gift, as they and bethany both owned one. her mother had even bothered her to get his name stitched in beneath the crest, though she didn’t.

she’s glad, she’s not sure if she could take that. not now.

“you’re here,” she responds, biting her tongue not to launch into something she’ll regret, “then you still have the key.”

“you gave me it. i would not simply lose something so important,” that grits against her nerves in a way she can’t explain, though he hesitates to step forward towards her, “you are free to have it back, as i suppose you’re leaving the city according to varric.”

“is this not also your home?” she asks bitterly, forgoing the fact she’d said not to tell anders when she was leaving, “or did you forget somehow in the last few months?”

reyna feels childish when she notes he doesn’t even seem angered by the accusation, just...sad. not the sort of sad where he’s begging for forgiveness at her feet and trying to guilt trip him, but the kind of sad one can only have when they’ve reached rock bottom.

“what do you want me to say, re-hawke?” and yet again, there is no anger behind the words. no deep seated frustration. reyna doesn’t know how to respond to someone who isn’t yelling at her for some reason or the other. she can deal with anger, she can yell at anger rightfully. apologetic...she doesn’t know what to do with apologetic, “if you wish for me to go, then i will. i won’t force myself where i am not wanted.”

she can’t bite them back fast enough, “you betrayed my trust, anders. you took away my right to choose when you lied to me for why you needed all of those ingredients.”

“i know.” is all he offers.

“i know?” she parrots back to him, “if you knew, if you bloody well knew then why even bother? why even accept that sodding key, why stay here? you can’t hide behind the excuse that you knew you would hurt me in the end. there must have been a part of you that knew this wouldn’t end well for you, for us.

“was there ever an us, anders?”

“yes!” something in him snaps before he pulls himself back together, “there always was, reyna. there always was, and that was never in question.”

the question is on the tip of her tongue, but she knows she will never get a proper answer. not one she doesn’t already know, “you thought i wouldn’t support you in this, so you didn’t even take the chance.”

“admit it, you wouldn’t have. no one we know would’ve. and i do not blame you.” anders nearly chastises her, “i could not take that chance to drag you into this. it would be my burden to bear.”

“i am not a child, anders.”

“i know.”

“then you would’ve known that i would at least hear you out. that i would’ve listened. that you didn’t have to play this game of secrecy with me,” she will not beg for an answer if that isn’t what he intends to give her. she is not pathetic.

“you would’ve stopped me. this was something i had to do.”

“would i have? i supported you everywhere else. nearly got myself killed for you. was that not enough to solidify that i was yours, that i would always be with you no matter what?”

when she can not find anymore words, pointedly looking at him instead, he slips the twine that the key hung on from around his neck. worn, but obviously well taken care of. it’s not even scratched upon further inspection. he holds it out her, in a similar fashion that she had given it to him earlier this year. twinkling in the dying light of the fire, spinning gently in a circle, “tell me to go, reyna.”

she hates the way he says it. as if he has already accepted that she will kick him out properly this time. how her name doesn’t sound like sugar on one’s tongue, it instead sounds like the salty tears that had poured down her cheeks for days after the chantry incident. thinly veiled frustration, barely veiled sadness.

she could tell him to go now. there’s nothing keeping her from doing so. it would be significantly easier if she did, in fact. travelling lighter, and she didn’t have to watch for templars nearly as often because an apostate wouldn’t be with her. she could support herself. she was not helpless.

it’d be that easy. just a few words, and she’d be free to leave this cursed city.

then go, anders. i don’t want you here anymore. you’ve destroyed what we had in favor of forwarding your own political agenda. you used me! you used my trust to do all of this, and now you have the audacity to come back and give me my own key back like you actually care what i think of you? you used my love for you. you twisted and tore us apart to something unfathomable. you have no right to be here. this is not your home any longer.

a fire roaring. intoxicated with adrenaline, wandering hands. happy looks, the roll of one’s eyes at another’s antics. the feeling of being a pair, the emotions she could never replicate with another.

he used me!

the warmest look in amber eyes as their lips fit together, tasting of lyrium and metallic blood.

her hand is shaking just out of the corner of her eye, she can grasp it now. it’s warm as she takes it from his hand. carefully. slowly. the twine has nearly frayed in so many places, yet knotted together again and again with dexterous hands she could only credit to him.

she knows what she has to do. the fire inside blazes and she opens her mouth to speak, setting her face. this isn’t something she should just back down from.

yet...

the words don’t come.

they fail her.

instead of anything else, even managing a curse or two, she moves her other hand to take his, pressing the key firmly back into his palm, curling his fingers back over it. inhaling, she wonders if she’s making the right decision. is this worth it? should she even begin to take the chance? the chance she could never have another life, never rebuild what she once had?

is it worth it to try and rebuild the shattered pieces in front of her, the scars reopening and bleeding from when it had first broken?

she remembers a vase she and her siblings had broken as children -- her mother’s in fact. blue, glittering in the dying sunlight of the evening when it had broken.

chipped. but not beyond recognition. the bigger pieces were still intact. it was glued back together with the help of their father before their mother was any the wiser.

it will hurt to put the glass back together if she chooses to pick them back up.

exhaling, she finally looks up at him. thinly veiled shock, surprise greets her instead in his expression, “don’t.” is all she can say, lest she actually let her emotions get the better of her.

reyna knows the wish that she could be alone on the road was real, was tangible. but she can’t. not after losing her father, losing carver, losing bethany, losing her mother, slowly losing the people around her to her own mind. not now. not when she knows that she still cares about him. not when there is one person left in the world like hum.

“reyna, i don’t deserve this. you know that much better than i do.” he tries to give it back to her, but she only clutches his hand tighter.

“keep it.” she nearly orders before softening her tone, “please.”

he considers his words, “if..you wish.”

reyna is quiet again. then she is really doing this, a wave of sadness passing over her. she is leaving, with the one person that caused the need to. but the person that she still has fractured trust from, the person that was her first, and if she let’s this progress, her last.

“i will not try to explain it again. you know my reasoning, reyna. and i am truly sorry for the pain i have caused you,” he admits quietly, “i can say a million things, but you would still find faults. and i can never truly apologize for what happened.”

“you can’t,” she agrees, wrapping her cloak around her lithe figure tighter, “you’re right on that front.”

he’s not phased by her response, “i am not asking to be taken back. i know i have foolishly thrown away what we had.”

“again, you are correct,” she rubs the fabric in between her gloved fingers. she hesitates again, knowing what she says now will make or break whatever this is, “but. why are you here then? if you know?”

“i...was not going to ask to travel with you, but to say goodbye. i was unsure if you wanted to see me, or if you were even still here to be entirely honest, but i wished to try,” he pauses, “i will always care for you, reyna. even if it is no longer reciprocated.”

and that is it. it sounds terribly final, as if he is ready to leave right that very moment. he has not made another advance towards her, but his eyes crinkle into a sad smile. one that is all too reminiscent of the same received that fateful day she’d first met him.

a rush of anxiety takes her heart hostage before she speaks again, turning over her shoulder to walk towards the door. she can’t face him when she’s on the brink of a breakdown, “you always did assume so much, anders.” reyna muses.

she doesn’t watch his reaction, but she can hear him walking ever closer, the sound of his staff dragging along the ground doing nothing to hide his presence from her, “will i see you again?” he asks hurriedly.

another blink. another halt of her thought process.

she can’t do this. she was supposed to be strong. but she isn’t. he’s too much to her, he’s been too much to her. how much he gave her, material and emotionally. she’s not ready to rip that away.

it wouldn’t be the same.

everything is still much too raw. too painful to touch. but no one said she had to touch an open would right then, in that very moment. another time, when it was easier to treat. allowed time to heal.

“it would be a crime if you did not,” she puts a hand on the knob, cold through her gloves. it’s nearly entirely dark, now that the fire is gone and the moonlight is shining through the window to illuminate the room, glinting off the steel of hids staff, “tell me, anders.”

“anything.” he answers, careful, calculating. gauging her reaction.

“can--” she turns over her shoulder, tears building in her eyes as she awaits his response, “can you still give me a world like the one you described in the gallows?”

he’s rendered speechless for once. then, recognition flashes through his eyes, as if he is remembering exactly what she is talking about. then, a nod, “i can surely try, if you allow me the pleasure.”

reyna pulls her hood up over head. considering, overthinking at this point, before taking his hand with her free one. this would not be perfect, far from it. she still has anger boiling just underneath the surface. they will both be hunted, unless they should leave the free marches. she is signing away any chance at a normal life.

she squeezes his fingers in her’s tentatively, “then let us find it, yes?”

#reyna hawke #da2 #handers #f!handers #anders #reyna/anders #oc #original character #da2 oc #post!da2

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highqueenofelfhame · 4 years

Text

fear and fire - one.

‘ELLO MY NOODLES! This is a prequel to All I Ask Of You, the Toxic/Military AU. You don’t need to have read that first but if you are interested it’s out there to read. heeeere we go. This does contain bits of PTSD.

The first time they met, Aelin was sparring in a circle of soldiers. Hand-to-hand combat had always been her strength, though she thoroughly excelled at everything she did. There wasn’t a weapon that she couldn’t fiercely wield. This woman was a weapon honed by the Gods, possibly chiseled by the death god himself.

Everyone was anticipating the Cadre showing up at base. These men were legends, all of them massive, hulking brutes that had never failed a single mission. Aelin had never failed either, and she had no doubts that one day she would join their ranks and kick all their asses while doing it. If you asked her what were career goals were, it was to become the leader of the Cadre and the right hand to the President of Terrasen. Few dared to doubt her, and the ones that did would surely be proven wrong all in due time.

Aelin hadn’t even noticed them approaching, landing a final roundhouse-kick to her partners side. The man, a six foot two soldier named Jax, was on the ground, cursing and gasping for air. Aelin, however, was grinning like a fiend with her hands on her hips. She’d just flipped her hair over her shoulder when she noticed the six men of the Cadre approaching and immediately called for her crew to fall in line. Admiral Brullo came to a stop in front of her, introducing the Cadre members to Aelin’s crew. They all saluted, then fell into their at ease stance in a singular uniform motion. They ran smooth as a well-oiled machine.

Despite the two most beautiful men she’d ever seen in her life standing feet away from her, her gaze was stuck on a tall man with silver hair that hung passed his shoulders. There was slight five-o’clock shadow over his jaw, which was insanely chiseled, and her mind - very inappropriately - wandered to how it would feel to have his beard tickling her thighs.

“Are you the one they call the God Killer? What was the other one?” He asked her, shifting his gaze to the impossibly beautiful golden-haired male at his side. Aelin blinked.

“Fire-breathing bitch-queen,” Their commander, Lorcan Salvaterre chimed in, hands sliding into his pockets. The golden-haired one winked, and her eyes shifted down to his name tag: F. Moonbeam.

“Adarlan’s Assassin, Queen of the Underworld, Demon-Queen. I get regular ‘ole ‘Bitch’ quite a bit, too.” Aelin prattled on, folding her arms over her chest. Beside her, Brullo nudged her with his elbow while Lorcan Salvaterre rolled his eyes. He clearly wasn’t one to care of her legendary reputation. Instead of saying anything in return, he took a step back and began to walk away, making his way around the base. Fenrys Moonbeam, however, paused.

“We could spar, if you’d like,” he drawled, his onyx eyes slowly dragging down her body again.

“No,” Whitethorn hissed, gripping his forearm and dragging him from the Killer Queen. For the first time in what felt like ages, Aelin laughed.

~*~

“Do you always sit by yourself?” Aelin stopped chewing and lifted her eyes from the apple in her hand to the man standing in front of her. Fenrys and his twin, Connall, stood before her with their plates in their hands. She put the apple down and wiped her hands on her thighs as she swallowed.

“I’m not exactly a favorite person on base. Bitch queen, remember?” The twins sat down, both of them nodding and sharing a look with each other that she didn’t quite understand.

“Seem alright to me,” Connall said softly, taking a bite of his food. Aelin quirked a brow and scanned the mess hall for the rest of the Cadre, but came up short. Gavriel, Rowan, Lorcan, and Vaughan were nowhere to be found.

“Where’s the rest of your boy-band?” She lifted her juice box to her lips and chewed on the straw while she sipped, allowing her eyes to lock with Fenrys’s across the table.

“What do you need all of them for when you have me sitting right here?”

“Are you always this insufferable?” She asked, taking another crisp bite of her apple. Something gleamed in his eye and, despite the hollow feeling in her chest, it felt good to have someone regard her so playfully. Nobody had been that way since Sam.

Not that she had allowed anyone to be. Losing him, watching him bleed out in the middle of the desert had drained the life out of her and left nothing but a hollow, empty shell. Losing a partner was bad enough, but it was worse to watch the light slip from their eyes, to be covered in their blood. Thinking about Sam made her breathless, brought tears to the corners of her eyes that burned like fire.

“Excuse me,” she mumbled, pushing away from the table and stumbling toward the door. The heels of her hands were rubbing into her eyes as though it would keep the tears at bay. She couldn’t cry here, couldn’t be weak here. She just had to make it to --

Aelin slammed into a body so hard that if it weren’t for the hands that braced her shoulders she might have mistaken it for the door frame. Dropping her hands from her eyes, she looked up at Rowan Whitethorn, who was regarding her with something too gentle in his eyes. Pity. It was pity at the sight of her flushed cheeks and bloodshot eyes and it was unacceptable to her.

“Sorry, sir,” she mumbled, straightening her posture and stepping to the side to allow him entry into the mess hall. Rowan’s eyes landed on Fenrys near the back of the room and flashed in annoyance.

“Did he -”

“No, and if he had, I can handle myself. If you’ll excuse me.” There was a bite in her tone that she instantly regretted, considering Rowan Whitethorn could throw her ass on the ground while bound head to toe in chains, she was sure. But she pushed passed him anyway and made her way toward the gym where she could punch out her frustration on a bag and not another person. If she chose a person right now, they would likely end up in the infirmary and she would be in trouble for being too aggressive with her training. Again.

Aelin did always eat alone. With a reputation like hers, nobody was exactly lining up to be her friend. She wasn’t up for letting anyone in, either. Not after losing her parents or Sam, so she threw herself into work almost viciously. It hadn’t taken her long to rise up through the ranks, and she was constantly assured that more promotions were on the way. Her four years in the military had served her well, and many people told her on a regular basis how proud her father would be.

How proud Sam would be.

Her fist connected with the bag, sending a shot of stinging pain up to her elbow. Aelin winced, and braced the swingin bag with both hands, taking a minute to rest her forehead against it. It smelled like dirt and sweat, and she took deep breaths to anchor her to the room, to push out the anxiety that she felt creeping up in her chest.

Dirt. Sweat. Blood. The wastes. She felt like she couldn’t breathe as she staggered back and braced a hand on the wall. Somewhere outside, she could have sworn she heard a bullet fire and she fell to her knees. With her hands in her hair she forced herself to breathe, to take deep breaths.

Dirt. Sweat. The mat beneath her fingers was old and tired and covered in granules of sand that were gritty against her palms. She lowered her body until her nose was to the mat and her arms were stretched out over her head, her nails digging into the ground so hard that she was sure her nails had split. A deep breath. Sweat. Dirt. Blood.

Sam gasping for air. Sam’s blood hot and sticky on her hands from trying to staunch the bleeding. Someone was screaming, the sound ringing painfully in her ears as she herself begged the Gods to take someone else. The light from Sam’s eyes faded to nothing as he stopped convulsing under her touch. As she felt his heart stop beating. As she felt him die.

A hand braced her back and she was instantly swinging, her eyes seeing nothing but the desert landscape that had consumed her mind until two hands gripped her face.

Suddenly, everything was back. She was in the training room, her hands were wrapped, and a set of worried green eyes were searching hers. Her throat was completely raw like she had been screaming - and maybe she had - and her cheeks were hot and wet tears. Droplets had gathered on her eyelashes and clumped them together, giving her an odd darkness around the edges of her vision. It took several minutes before she stopped rocking back and forth, something she hadn’t even noticed she had been doing to begin with.

The world turned right-side up again, and she closed her eyes to focus on what she knew. Her hands were gripping a cotton t-shirt. The fabric was soft and smooth. Two hands held her face, one on either side, with thumbs drawing soft lines up along her cheekbones. Her knees were sore from falling the ground and missing the mat. She could smell sweat, dirt, and a warm comforting scent of musky pine.

Aelin wasn’t sure how long it took for the ironclad grip with which she held onto his shirt to lessen, her hands dropping to rest on her thighs. Ages passed and she opened her eyes again, leaning back on her heels to look at Rowan. His hands fell from her face and she used the back of her wrist to wipe her nose. Behind him, several other soldiers - including the cadre - were scattered around the room and looking right at her.

“Shows over,” she rasped, forcing herself to her feet and nearly falling back over in the process. She had to get out of this room, away from these people. So with one more glance over her shoulder, she jogged out of the training room, down to the barracks, and away from the mountain of embarrassment she was sure to endure tomorrow.

tagging peeps that might be interested.

@starseternalnighttriumphant @musicmaam @tonystarksbish @the-regal-warrior @kandasboi @myfeyrelady @empire-of-wildfire @schmlip-scribble @city-of-fae @tangledraysofsunshine @shyvioletcat @westofmoon @nalgenewhore @rhysands-highlady @rowaelinforeverworld @anabelkay @rosesandglass @faefromthenorth @ttakeitbacknoww @runnybabbit9 @faerie-queen-fireheart @alifletcher2012

#fear and fire #rowaelin #aiaoy #all i ask of you #writing #drabbles #faf1 #ff1 #ff #faf #fenrys moonbeam #connall moonbeam #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #throne of glass #tog #tog fanfiction #rowaelin fanfiction

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