#never conscript the mages I did it once and was in awe at how mean it was

[glacierbash]

dragon age for the fandom asks :)

 t h i r d  t i m e ‘ s  t h e  c h a r m

first time I did it on mobile, it crashed, and it didn’t save, the second I went to go hang out with my partner after i /thought/ I hit post but Apparently Didnt, so here goesssss

prefacing this with saying I played the games out of order, haven’t even managed to play da2 (haven’t been able to buy it yet :pensive:) so my opinions might not be informed as a more intense fan. Buut, still love the games and still have Opinions:tm:

First character I fell in love with: 110% Josephine. When I first saw her, I was like “If I can’t hold her hand this world will be unfixable and I will have no purpose in living anymore” and then I saw the flirt option when talking to her and lost my goddamn mind. It was so nice to see a story where there was just. No Tragedy (to an extent), no dying, it felt like I got to live out my sappy romantic dreams :’) she was my first romance in a DA (or bioware game in general) and she’ll always have a special place in my heart,,

Character I never expected to love as much as I do now: Honestly? Wynne lmao, I thought she would just be “nagging old lady” but she grew on me and to this day I still love her. Even when she was trying to keep me from doing the horizontal tango with Leliana smh /j

Character everyone loves that I don’t: Surprise Surprise, Cullen. When I first started playing Inquisition (since. again, out of order,) he was just slightly annoying to me, if a bit offputting. I didn’t wanna be around him that much, felt some of comments were. strange, so say the least, but then... Then, I played Origins. 

And I fucking hated him.

I can get why some people might like Cullen. I am not one of those people. After doing the circle quest and having to deal with his “kill all the mages” bullshit, I just... Look, I felt bad for him, but still. In my grand opinion, he shouldn’t have. Uh. Wanted to kill all the mages <3 he’s in my top 5 least favorite characters (and yes, I am aware of his addiction story, and while I still feel bad about that, I just... That doesn’t exactly “redeem” his prior actions, for lack of a better term).

Character I love that everyone else hates: I’m not sure if she gets a lot of hate, but Sera. Seeing a lesbian character who will get a happy ending made me really happy. Sure, you can... Dismiss her at any time, there’s almost no interactions that I can remember where you can be nice/understanding with her (even if the interaction gains approval) and sometimes her “my way or the highway” is really shitty (again, for lack of a better term) but still. I love her, I really do. One of my first times seeing an openly, quite unapologetic lesbian in games, and it’s still kinda important to me. I dunno. I was still trying to figure out who I was, I only recently really embraced “lesbian” as my own label, and I guess you could really attribute part of that to her. But, if she isn’t really hated, then disregard this. I’ve just seen some really nasty things people said about her.

Character I used to love but don’t anymore: Solas... And no, not because of his dreadwolf reveal. I enjoyed that! I like the thought of him as a villain! But, like... Lots of stuff started to wear on me, like... It’s been a while since I last played but he always felt quite condescending once I talked to him a bit more, just a bit “I’m superior to you haha.” I was playing a lavellan for this first playthrough, and... I dunno. I don’t hate him! I just don’t really love him. He’s worn on me, and not in a good way.

Character I would totally smooch: You want a list? Sera, Josephine, Leliana, and Qunari lady from the da4 trailer.

Character I want to be like: I don’t think I have a character I’d particularly wanna be like! If I had to choose, I’d pick Dagna, because I respect her dedication to. Learning. JDFKSD (can you tell I’m tired of doing this for the third time?)

Character I’d slap: Cullen <3 I would say Meredith too but even though I know she’s. uh. kinda fucking bad I’ll wait until I play DA2 to say so with Confidence

Pairing I love: Merribela, Leliana/Josephine, and really most pairing between pc/npc, save for a few exceptions, such as...

Pairing i hate: Cullen/Mage. Any mage. Mage Inquisitor. Mage Warden (hghg). Mage random character on the street you yoinked up. Just... No. Nope. Nuh-uh. Usually I’m very “do your own thing, idc if I don’t like it :)” but that’s like... Major nope. Ya know... Kill all the mages in the circle. (Plus, his feelings for a mage warden? When he’s in a position of power over her? :////////////) But! no hatred for anything else, really!

Thank you for the ask!

[rrrawrf-writes]

what is it good for?

pt. 1 || pt. 2 || pt. 3 || pt. 4

Every day, more and more bad news poured in.

Mafvin had thought things were turned around when they regained Aelford; the siege was broken, his daughter rescued and returned to him. His son, fighting with the mage corps, was accounted for; he’d razed one of Eola’s key fortresses to the ground.

But then, somehow, things changed.

The Eolans pressed forward. They didn’t need Aelford - Boarcross was theirs, and they poured across it, flowing around Aelford like a stream around a boulder. Allspeak fell, and so did Chaserhorn. They cut off General Liya’s battalion during the winter, trapping them in the Dragonspine, and that very nearly killed off all of them.

Every day, come spring, his councillors came to Mafvin, begging him to put a stop to all of it.

“You have thrice the magic they do, Your Majesty -”

“Your father and grandfather both fought their own wars -”

“And both died in them,” Mafvin snapped back. The advisor, a general herself, scowled at him.

“I know.” He knew. Mafvin was the most powerful mage in existence. He’d built settlements in one day. He’d grown crops for the entire country during a drought. He’d built dams and redirected overflowing rivers to save villages, he’d grown entire forests, he’d summoned lethal storms and shooed them away. He knew that. “I will not use my magic to harm others.”

General Porrin hissed something perilously close to a curse against her king. “Sire, our soldiers are dying by the score. Your son is out there, fighting. Our common folk are being slaughtered -”

“Don’t lie to me,” Mafvin snapped. “The Eolans fight honorably.”

“They were not honorable in Aelford,” Porrin retorted. Mafvin clenched his jaw as the general continued. “You could put a stop to this, Your Majesty. We’re redirecting them. We have a dozen places we can lure them to and stage battle - all we need is you, sire, just you -”

“Get out,” Mafvin said flatly, and turned away.

---

He took refuge in the rear gardens, the ones that had once belonged to his mother. There, the gardeners had long stopped trying to curb the king’s enthusiasm. Instead, they left it to him and never stepped foot inside. A place where he could let his green magic run rampant. Trees grew, bloomed, bore fruit, and withered, all in a single winter’s day; the ground was always covered in clover or flowers or grass or bramble, depending on the king’s mood. Today, everything was overgrown. Thick vines smothered the walls and the trees had grown so large and close together that their thick foliage blocked out much of the light. Ivy and thick moss hung in sheets from their branches.

Dayehmon sighed as he stepped into the garden. The vines curled all over the ground obediently shifted away from his steps, which showed that Mafvin knew he was there, and was being polite, even if he didn’t realize it. “Eos,” Dayehmon said quietly, and the king looked up from where he sat in the dark thicket, his arms wrapped around his knees like a child hiding from his tutors. Dayehmon came to join him, though he remained on his feet, one hand resting comfortably on the pommel of his sword.

Mafvin sighed and flicked a leaf with disgust. “Are you here to tell me to fight, too?” he asked, defeated.

“Gods, all right,” he complained, taking the scone. He slouched back against the tree with a scowl and nibbled at the pastry. “Thank you, mother hen.”

“I’m here because it’s my shift,” Dayehmon said wryly. He leaned against a tree, heedless of the ivy that covered it. One tendril curled over his shoulder, winding down his arm like it was looking for attention. “Have you eaten?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Have you eaten,” Dayehmon repeated firmly, as if King Eos Mafvin of Cordel were a toddler pouting in a corner, and not the most powerful man alive. Mafvin tipped his head back to glare at Dayehmon, and was greeted with the guard shoving a scone into his face.

“You’re welcome.” Dayehmon crossed his arms over his chest, chewing on a scone of his own. They remained in comfortable silence for some time. Mafvin didn’t get enough of this companionship these days, not since this war began. He was close with much of his royal guard - but so many of them had been tapped to fight the Eolans, and instead Mafvin was brought new ones, young and bright-eyed and in awe of the man they were supposed to be guarding. Mafvin had stopped trying to break them out of their wonder and fear, and now he just sulked and let them watch from a distance. Eventually, they’d figure it out.

They’d realize he was a fool and a child and, if the muttering of his council was to be believed, a coward.

He ate the scone automatically, not tasting the sweetness despite the honey baked into it. Dayehmon had another waiting for him when he finished, and Mafvin sighed, taking it before his guard pinned him down and stuffed it into his mouth.

“Am I a coward, Tibur?” Mafvin asked, after a long moment. Dayehmon paused, looking down at him.

“I don’t think there is an answer to that question that will satisfy you, Eos,” he said finally. Mafvin scoffed.

“You can be honest,” he said, disgusted.

“I am.” Dayehmon straightened up off of the tree, carefully detangling the flowering ivy that still clung to his arm and draping it from the tree. “You’re the only one who knows that answer.”

Mafvin sighed, dropping his head back against the tree trunk. “The council thinks I am.”

“The council,” Dayehmon said flatly, “are sitting flat on their asses while they send the common folk off to war. Only three of them know what fighting’s like.”

“I’m sitting flat on my ass while I send the common folk off to war.”

Dayehmon hummed. “You are.”

Mafvin ran a hand over his face. “So you must think as little of me as you do of them.”

“Well, you’ve never called me a scarred son of a pig, so you’ve got that going for you,” Dayehmon pointed out good-naturedly. “I don’t think that little of you, Eos. Not that it matters. You are my king.”

“A king you have special dispensation to put down like a sick dog if ever you see fit,” Mafvin said dryly. Dayenmon smiled, one side of it pulled crooked by the three scars running down his cheek.

He held out a hand to Mafvin, who pulled himself to his feet with a sigh. “So. Our soldiers are going to war and being killed. That is their choice.”

Dayehmon snorted. “Now I think you’re a fool,” he said sharply. “We conscript our soldiers, Eos, you know that. Not all of them made that choice.”

Mafvin flinched, but Dayehmon was right. Mafvin had tried to overturn the conscription acts again and again, but the council refused to agree. He’d never fought in the army, they had argued. He’d never fought in the nearly constant wars against Eola, or had any idea what running a military was like. He clearly didn’t understand the necessity of conscription. He should stick to overseeing agriculture and logistics, and let his council and generals worry over such matters.

They’d said that for years, and now, they begged him to fight their war for them.

“I could end the fighting,” Mafvin said, looking down at his hands. “That’s what they all tell me. I could end it all. I could march into Eola and take Kydrei whenever I wish.”

“I suppose you could,” Dayehmon agreed. Mafvin continued as if he hadn’t said anything.

“I could kill them all. It would be easy. Eola is pushing because they don’t fear me. They don’t fear me, because I’ve never brought my magic against them.” Mafvin paced, thick, tangled grass and weeds blossoming under each step, only to be trampled again when he turned in his little circle. Dayehmon reached up to pluck an apple off the tree above him, nestled among out-of-season flowers. “They believe my power is diminished if I leave the heart of the country - I suppose the council’s spies managed one good thing over the years,” he added dryly.

“More likely the soldiers believe that, and the generals have some idea of how to deal with you when they get here,” Dayehmon mused.

“I - I don’t want to kill anyone, Tibur.” Mafvin stopped to look at him, despair in his leaf-green eyes. “I’ve hurt enough people already. Vitalia bears the scars of my mistakes, I - I’ve sworn to do everything I can to avoid killing with my magic.”

Dayehmon eyed the apple. “And you’ve tried to end the wars.”

Mafvin gave a sharp laugh. “Not that it’s helped anything,” he said scornfully.

“But you’ve tried,” Dayehmon pressed. He gave a sigh of his own. “I don’t have an answer for you, Eos. They see you as a weapon. As magic incarnate, and nothing else. A means to an end. The same way they see the soldiers.”

Mafvin remained silent, staring into the cluster of trees. They groaned and creaked, though there was no wind to make them shifted so. The ground shuddered under his feet; a breeze picked up, rattling the tree branches and fluttering the moss and ivy.

Dayehmon watched him, and the restlessness of nature around the king; small lights winked on and off among the trees like fireflies in the middle of the day. He was sure Mafvin had no idea.

“I don’t think you’re a coward,” Dayehmon said, at last. “I think you have an impossible choice to make. They see your magic, but that’s all they see. I don’t have magic, just blood. I see what the soldiers would see. Death.”

Mafvin flinched at that, and looked down at his hands. He was rarely still, but he’d stayed in one place long enough that a vine crept up his legs, wrapping around his arm and flowering in his palm. Dayehmon scuffed his feet as he stepped over, placing a hand on Mafvin’s arm.

“There’s going to be death either way,” Dayehmon said quietly. “You have to decide whether the cost of action or inaction is worth the toll yourself.”

He gave Mafvin’s arm a comforting squeeze, then looked up as the gate to the gardens creaked open. A servant cleared her throat, bowed, and said, “Your Majesty, the Queen wishes to invite you for tea.”

---

Mafvin knew what side the queen had taken.

She’d been more involved with the council than ever during the war, speaking with them in meetings Mafvin was carefully not told about. They all feigned innocence when he asked why he wasn’t summoned. “We did, of course,” one councilor would say anxiously. “Perhaps the message was misplaced.”

The queen would widen her blue eyes and suggest, “We had assumed you’d be off on one of your jaunts anyway, my love.”

My love. They had never loved each other, and everyone knew it. Yet she always fell back to her pet names, her condescending terms of endearment. Even the children had long stopped believing there was any affection between them.

Of course, it wasn’t as if the council’s assumptions were unfounded. Mafvin hated council meetings, hated war meetings, hated anything where he had to sit still and focus for longer than ten minutes. He hated being king.

The queen’s gardens were neat and orderly, a sharp contrast to the sprawling mess that Mafvin’s magic shaped without thinking. He stepped out onto a perfectly manicured path of crushed white gravel - crystals, really, ones that he’d summoned from the earth himself to please her, and to burn off his magic one foggy autumn morning. Maybe he didn’t truly love her, but there was no reason not to try to please her.

At least, there used to be no reason.

She sat at a small iron-wrought table, one Mafvin had crafted after spending a month with the iron-smiths in the capital. Tea had been set out, and she looked up from the table with a smile when she heard his footsteps on the path.

“I hear,” she said, her voice as lyrical as a brook, “that my husband has decided to be a coward.”

Mafvin stopped short.

“Is that so,” he answered, his tone flat. The queen smiled at him and gestured to the other chair.

“Would you like to sit, or pace about like an unruly child, as you usually do?” she asked. Mafvin twitched his fingers, and the teapot poured for them both, one teacup floating towards him.

“Why do you want me to fight so badly?” he asked, deciding to just get straight to the point. “Hoping I’ll be killed, so you can take the throne?”

During the more pleasant days of their relationship, it would have been nothing more than a playful jab - she and Mafvin knew why they’d been married to each other. But now, there was a snide, sharp weight to the words. The queen stiffened, tilting her chin. Mafvin watched her as he sipped at his tea, and nearly apologized - but why should he, anyway? They’d never loved each other. It was merely tolerance.

“No,” she said, after too long a silence, her voice curt. “I want to end this war. Which I had thought was your goal, as well. You always say how tired you are of the fighting.”

“I was tired of the fighting long before this conflict ever began,” Mafvin snapped. He let go of the teacup, but it remained in place, with nothing but his magic to support it. “I was tired of the fighting when it was my grandfather who had the throne, and I was just learning what a sword was meant for. But you - all if you, the council, the damned country - you all kept pushing and poking at them, at the border, and now see where we are!”

“Here, with the Eolans knocking on our front door,” she retorted, “and the best man to stop them refusing to care for his people.

Mafvin sucked in an angry breath. The gravel shifted beneath his feet, and the teacup wavered next to him. “Do not,” he seethed, “accuse me of not caring. Everything I have done, I have done for my people.”

“Except keep them safe from those marauders,” the queen snapped back. “You see the news from the front before any of us. You hear what is coming on the winds, what the animals chatter about. You see the blood that soaks the Finns. Don’t pretend you’re keeping them safe with your inaction.”

Mafvin’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists. The teacup trembled, and then some invisible force crushed it into perfect dust.

The tea never hit the ground, but instead swirled around, ridding itself of teacup fragments before it streamed through the air and back into the teapot. It was guided not by the king, but by his wife, her fingers directing the liquid back down the spout of the ceramic teapot.

Water. The most powerful water mage in the Eastern Quarter. ‘To nourish the green magic of the king,’ they’d proclaimed at the wedding ceremony, as if the entire court were pretending this was not a marriage to breed even more powerful mages than Mafvin himself.

She was as nourishing as seawater. Mafvin was more likely to drown in one of her storms, than to ever be bolstered.

“Eos,” she said flatly. “The Eolans tortured and killed the governor of Aelford, his family, and the people of his city. When they finally reach Finns, what do you think they will do then?”

She stood, her skirts not quite brushing the ground. “Will you let them march in? Will you raise your magic against them then? I suspect you will not, because of your fear and cowardice. You’ll leave the fighting to us.”

“And yet,” Mafvin returned, his voice sharp, “you are still here, my darling wife. You, who could bring the entire river Finns against them, or choke them with a fog. I don’t see you marching off to the front lines, with the mages you so happily conscripted. Why should I go while you stay behind, and drink your damned tea?”

The teapot rattled, cracks forming in the ceramic; the tea began to leak through in droplets, and then the entire thing exploded - and flash-froze just as quickly, leaving a chunk of iced ceramic and tea in the center of the little table.

The queen pursed her lips. Mafvin tried to feel smug, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to it. Goading her into losing control of her magic used to be a victory, but now he just felt empty and angry. They never loved each other, but at least they used to like each other. What had changed?

“I will do what is necessary,” the queen said, quietly savage. She gathered up her skirts and stalked past Mafvin, disappearing down the winding path back towards the castle.

He didn’t watch her leave, but remained there, staring at the frozen tea and broken ceramic until his vision blurred. He blinked once, twice, then wiped at his eyes.

The frozen liquid softened, swirling upwards and letting the shattered pieces of the teapot lower gently to the table. Mafvin stepped over, picking up the shards with his hands and his magic, trying to piece them back together. His result was a cracked vessel. He wasn’t exactly a potter, just like he wasn’t exactly an ironsmith, or a miner, or a soldier, or a king.

All the magic in the world, and Mafvin couldn’t fix any of this.

His wife’s voice floated back to him through the gardens. She wasn’t talking to him, but her beautiful voice always carried like a stream’s trickling.

“Ah, Vitalia!” The queen sounded bright and cheery as she greeted their eldest daughter. Mafvin barely heard Vitalia’s murmured reply, and the sound of a door opening. “Have you heard? We’re sending you to the Summer Palace, until this whole nasty business with the Eolans is settled.”

The queen’s voice faded as they walked inside. “You’ll be safe there, my dearest.”

[fenharel-archived]

act 1: 5 & 6 // act 2: 1, 2 & 6 // act 3: 2, 3 & 5 for alvar!!!

Act 1

5. What did your Inquisitor do to the templars/mages? Conscription, alliance or banishment/disbanding? Why?

she allied with the mages! alva is a mage herself, when she heard that the mages want to talk to her, it was basically a no brainer for her to check them out asap. and it was also a no brainer to offer them an alliance, alvar is actually quite aware that conscripting them might be the smarter move, but she simply doesn’t want to do that because she trusts them and she firmly believes they deserve to be independent

6. Was your Inquisitor uncomfortable with their title or did they embrace it? Would they have chosen to join the Inquisition if they had been given the option?

she wasnt uncomfortable per se, but she was surprised for sure, she’s an elf and a mage after all!! and on top of that, leader of something which main religion she doesnt even share. but she knows how to lead (in theory. baby was still just first of her clan after all) and having the mark, it made sense in her eyes also she’s a bit stupid and brave and would never say no to something like this lmao imagine her basically like “ofc im gonna save the world!!” and in the back of her head theres also a little whisper that goes “also this is dangerous and exciting, but also a bit scary, yeehaw” & yes she would have joined the inquisition if given the chance! this is a one in a lifetime experience, and she’s def the type of person to get involved. she would also never just be like “ah, let the others deal with those demons i guess..”

Act 2

1. What did your Inquisitor think of the Hawke they met? Did they clash? Were they friends? Was your Inquisitor in awe of the champion?

oh my god alva is the biggest fangirl :’/ varric gifted her the tale of the champion back in haven & she ate the book up in a single night. she also loved to hear him talk about her, and when she was suddenly standing infront of her she was a bit star struck, ngl :’/ <3 they did become friends pretty quickly, both being pretty extroverted and social. u would find them laughing together with varric at the camp fire while on their way to the adamant fortress. alva would question her all the time about whats true in varrics book and eleanor didn’t mind at all. alva also went 🥺 all the time whenever eleanor mentioned anders, she loves romance......

2. Which warden ally (Loghain, Stroud or Alistair) did your Inquisitor meet? What became of the warden ally and why did your Inquisitor choose to spare/sacrifice them?

this is a tricky question because i still havent decided what i want to be canon lmao. originally she met alistair, and sacrificed hawke because it was hawkes wish, and she didnt thought it was her place to deny her that no matter how much she liked her. though, cari is my main warden for a while now, which means alistair is king and she should have met stroud. in that scenario she sacrificed stroud, i headcanon that he made a stronger case and she didnt deny him for the same reason as i mentioned before. also he’s a warden and will die of the taint anyway (though that’s something she thought of afterwards). i played this scenario only once. god i finally have to make up my mind lmao.

6. Which potential leader of Orlais (Celene, Briala or Gaspard) did your Inquisitor approve of the most? Which one did they end up backing? Was it a choice based off of personal wants or the necessary choice to win the war?

briala! and she ended up backing her, but officially putting gaspard on the throne. it was a surprise to some, some didnt thought she had it in her. but she did research quite a bit before going to orlais, and she made leliana tell her every single secret she knew about that place. one things she knew for certain was that she didnt trust celene, and that she didnt trust briala to ever get any power if celene was still present. so i would say its a mixture of personal wants (wanting elves to get treated right, for example) and politics

Act 3

2. How did your Inquisitor react to the Well of Sorrows? Did it mean anything to them? Did they feel a connection to the history it contained?

she was speechless for a second tbh. she admires mythal, and i think she heavily felt the years of pain the well contained in the air, but she also felt connected in a way that this was part of her peoples history, and yet even being a keepers first, she didnt knew anything about it. part of her was quite excited to have uncovered such a thing, another part of her was almost a bit regretful, this was the first time she thought about how much more there could be about elves she never knew about

3. Who drank from the well, Morrigan or your Inquisitor, and what were your Inquisitor’s reasons for who drank? Were they fearful of Morrigan? Did they desire the secrets of the well?

alva drank! she wasnt fearful of morrigan, but she was fearful for her, she didnt wanted to let her drink it because it was dangerous, and she’s the type to do things like that herself then (im rolling my eyes hard rn) though, there was also a part of her deep down that wanted the knowledge for herself, that believes as an elf she should be the one to gather the secrets of the ancient elves. she isn’t very aware of that though.

5. What were your Inquisitor’s plans after defeating Corypheus? Did they intend to abandon their role as Inquisitor or remain with the Inquisition?

honestly, she’s more the type to live in the moment, she didnt had many plans. all she really wanted was to visit her clan and her parents for a bit and introduce them to solas as well, but that didnt happen :-)

Dragon Age Asks: Inquisitor + Choices

[canimal]

I wanted to write a time travel fanfic and about Evan Rosier/Hermione Granger as a main pairing but... I'm stuck. I didn't choose the most redeemable character (Rosier was killed by Moody after a magical fight) and it's complicated bc how Hermione can fall in love with someone like Evan no matter how charming and smart he is ? How did you deal with that (Hermione, Death Eater and their ideology) ? All I can see is something like Jaime/Brienne (GoT) and a very slow burn. But it still feel wrong.

(Please bear with me as this is going to be a super long response.  I’ll put it underneath the cut so those who want to read it can read it and those who want to scroll past it can do so quickly.)

To be perfectly honest, if a story feels “wrong”, you shouldn’t be writing it.  Trying to force something that you don’t feel comfortable writing and don't fully believe in will not only make for a story that feels forced and unnatural to the reader, but it will also become a story that you will not enjoy writing.  (Never forget that this is our hobby, not our job.). Eventually, you would likely hit a wall where the story was unable to progress further and you’d be stuck.  Lots of writers try to write a story with certain elements or pairings that are “trendy” and end up stuck because they forced a story.  Writing should flow fairly smoothly.  I’m not saying that writers should never stumble or feel blocked, but I am saying that if you’re not allowing a story to remain organic and grow naturally, you will find you quality and likely your own enthusiasm and enjoyment in writing the story suffer.

Why do you want to write a story with Evan Rosier?  Is it because you find his character fascinating or you want to uncover more about him?  Or is it because he’s not a character that’s written about a lot and you’re hoping to stand out in a growing sea of Death Eater stories?  

I promise I’m not trying to be rude or condescending, even if it seems like it.  This is an honest question.  If your answer is on the first couple, awesome.  Go for it.  

But, if you’re hoping writing about him will get you instant recognition and a large number of followers on your story immediately, I’m sorry to tell you that that probably won’t happen.  Most readers don’t want to take a chance on unknown characters.  They just don’t.  I’ve mentioned this many times, but when I first started writing Thorfinn Rowle as more than just a one-dimensional bad guy in the background in first, The Dark Mage’s Captive and then Parolee and His Princess, I frequently got PMs and reviews asking me who the fuck Thorfinn Rowle even was and that I might actually get more people to read my stories if I didn’t write such weird pairings. 🙄 (Let’s not forget the troll who commented “This should’ve been a Dramione” on literally every single chapter at least twice.  Sigh.) So it’s both amusing and incredibly frustrating to have readers in the fandom announce that Thormione is their OTP when most of them wouldn’t have given my stories the time of day when I was writing them and they were the ONLY Thorfinn stories in existence on FFN for certain and probably everywhere else.  Because so few people were interested in reading a story with Thorfinn as the main love interest when I was actually writing Parolee and His Princess, if I was only writing the story in an attempt to stand out and not because that was the story I wanted to write, then I likely would’ve gotten frustrated and quit before I ever finished.

So, if you’re serious about writing an Evan Rosier story because it’s what you want to write, I wish you the best of luck.  It’s always challenging to write a character with little to no background info in canon.  Challenging can also be a great deal of fun.  If we never challenge ourselves as writers, we won’t ever get any better.  Writers must be willing to learn and try new things if they want to get better.  Practice is crucial.  Too many writers (professional and otherwise) get to a place where they don’t believe they need to improve and their writing gets stagnant.  It’s sad.

Now to your question about how or why Hermione might fall in love with someone with such a different and dangerous ideology... there are many different ways this can be tackled.  I must stress thought that you make sure the decision you make makes sense within your story.  Don’t try to force something.  Let it grow naturally.

First of all, I don’t believe anyone is unredeemable.  (Or irredeemable. Same meaning, right?) Perhaps it’s because of my own personal faith and religious beliefs, but I don’t believe anyone is wholly evil or wholly good.  Yes, even in this hyper-partisan world we now live in, I don’t believe that anyone (even those who might disagree with me) are pure evil.  This has actually gotten me a lot of grief from angry trolls and super sensitive former readers alike.  I’ve been accused of being an “apologist” for all manner of depravity including, but not limited to, rape, violence, murder, racism, all the bad things ever, etc. simply because I believe that no is unredeemable... irredeemable.  Ugh, whatever.  You know what I mean.  

Everyone has good qualities in them, even those who appear to be nothing but evil.  Far fewer good qualities than most certainly, but still there.  I’m also a firm believer that people, even really bad people, can have an existential change of heart and want to be a better person.  Many just have to be given the opportunity to change.  Of course, I don’t believe that they shouldn’t be punished for their crimes or they should be excused just because there’s something good about them.  I’ll never understand why I’ve been accused of being an apologist.  🙄 Some people are truly exhausting.

For every story about a Death Eater falling for Hermione, there’s a different explanation.  If you’ve ready any, you’re probably already familiar.  Because I try very hard to make every story I write unique from the others I’ve already written, I’ve mixed it up.  Antonin only joined for knowledge and power without realizing until too late what was really happening.  Rodolphus was pressured by his wife in one and his grief and depression made him fall further in than he meant to.  Sometimes the Death Eater was pressured by family to follow in their footsteps; others by their peers.  There are countless reasons why people join these kinds of groups.  Disillusionment, looking for a place to belong... you really could make it anything.  I’ve known people who were drawn in and brainwashed by cults because they were desperate for purpose, for belonging, for a feeling like their life actually mattered.  It can be super easy to get sucked into a cult and takes years to get out... if you can.

JKR wrote the Death Eaters as being simply bad for bad’s sake.  They’re almost all one-dimensional.  No person is actually one-dimensional.  They have hopes and fears and dreams just like everyone else.  Maybe they thought they believed in the sort of pro-Pureblood world that Voldemort imagined, but once they got in they were in over their head.  Reality rarely meets our expectations.  People grow and change.  Even my own beliefs have changed as I’ve grown older.  What I used to think was important no longer is and there are issues I have done a complete 180 on as I’ve grown up and begun to live in what I call “grownup reality”.  (Life is much different for me than it was even when I was just in my twenties and how I see the world has changed drastically in some instances.). So if experience and time has been able to shape and change my beliefs and even my values to a minute degree, why could the same not be said for a Death Eater who discovered all was not as it seemed when they were recruited?

It’s also important to remember that no one thinks, acts, or believes like everyone in their set group one hundred percent of the time.  Each individual has their own thoughts and beliefs.  Maybe they joined because they hated Muggles, but then they realized they were wrong to do so.  Maybe their family pressured them to join but they didn’t agree.  Maybe they were afraid to die so they joined.  I know a lovely man whose father died in World War II fighting for the Nazis - not because he was an admirer of Hitler and believed in everything dreadful and evil the Nazi party believed in.  No, his father was conscripted into the German Army and fought because he would’ve been arrested in the best case scenario and executed in the worst.  His young wife and their two small children could’ve also been in danger had he refused.  It’s a terribly sad story.  And hardly the only one.  That’s just one example.  History has countless other incidents all over the world when scared people fought and fell in line with a terrible leader because they had no other choice. Or at least it seemed like they had no other choice.  Not everyone is strong and brave enough to stand up to injustice and evil when their lives are on the lines.  Humans by our very nature can be quite cowardly at times.

It’s possible that a person who has done evil deeds or believed just absolutely atrocious things could want to change and be a better person.  Though it wouldn’t be easy, someone like Hermione could choose to forgive them for their past.  Especially if they’re truly remorseful.

Of course, it’s also unfortunately true that there are sometimes relationships that are just absolutely toxic.  Love can make idiots of us all.  How many women (and men to an extent though not nearly as often) see the potential in a man and want to change them into something good and perfect?  It happens so often it’s a cliche.  Woman falls in love with bad boy.  Wants to change him.  Stays with him with hopes and dreams that he’ll stop being so awful.  Is disappointed over and over again.  Have you ever known someone who fell in love with a truly terrible person and even though their relationship wasn’t healthy whatsoever never seemed to quit them?  Kept going back for more even when everyone told them it was a terrible idea?  I’m pretty sure you have.  You might’ve even been in one of those relationships yourself.  I know I was.  No, he might not have been a murderous minion of a madman, but he certainly had his terrible qualities that I thought I could help him get past.  Tale as old as time.  

I could go on and on and on about reasons why Hermione might fall in love with a completely unsuitable man who might even wish her dead, but there’s no reason.  It could be for a thousand reasons.  And don’t forget, Hermione isn’t exactly some innocent paragon of virtue herself.  She’s pretty dark even in canon.  Trapping a lady in a jar?  Cursing a girl’s face possibly permanently?  Leading another witch into a forest knowing there are centaurs in there who are dangerous?  And those are just the things that unobservant Harry noticed!  Who knows what she was doing off-stage?  She has her own darkness and her own demons to fight.  She’s not perfect nor is she some pure angelic creature who only uses light magic for good.  Nah, she’s pretty twisted at times. (On a side note - Please don’t try to write her as being all-powerful, perfect, and never do anything the least bit bad.  That’s not her character at all.  It bothers me to see her written as some sort of pearl-clutching virgin who has never done anything bad in her entire life.  That’s NOT the Hermione I read in the books.)

You just have to find the right motivation in your own story.  If you’re not forcing the story and allowing it to develop naturally, you’ll figure it out.  If you’re forcing it, I’m afraid you’re going to stay stuck.

I hope this can be so some help!  Sorry I’m rambled on and on and on.

[allisondraste]

Interview Your Muses as You

Credit for this meme goes to @celeritassagittae with the original prompt here. Thank you for taking the time to throw this together. 

“Since you’re writing yourself here, feel free to add or drop questions, rewrite them, or tweak them to fit your voice!  If the interview canters off into the sunset and leaves these questions in the dust, my work here is complete.”

An interview with my *pair* of muses Lucia and Alistair.  This was very fun, and I am tagging anyone who would like to do it!  Just @ me so I can read what you come up with. :D

 Hey there!  What is your name - er well your names?

Lucia (L): I’m assuming that asking is a formality since you literally just typed it.

Alistair (A): I don’t know why you’re talking to her.  She’s a bad person.

L: He’s not wrong, you know.

Awh. You all are too cute.... anyway....How old are you?

L: Technically, I’ve only existed for three years, but you told me I was born in 9:12 Dragon, so however old that makes me in whatever tale you choose to tell this week would be the answer.

A:*crosses arms and glares* 

L: *Elbows him*

A: Ow! And here I thought we were on the same side. “Don’t worry Alistair,” you said. Pffft. Whatever. I’m two years older than Luce at any given time. 

Alistair, is there some kind of issue?

A: There is and you know it. 

Still mad at me about that l-

A: Yes. 

L: I’m honestly a little bit angry with you myself... if we’re being honest here.

I know, I know, and I’m sorry. I really am, but it’ll be worth it! You’ll see. 

A: Wait, what do you mean “you’ll see”?  

L: Yes.  Are you privy to some information that we aren’t?

I do have meta-knowledge.  I’m kind of responsible for at least some of your adventures, like - wait, shit. Damn.

L: Well, now you have to tell us. 

A: She won’t, and you know she won’t. She *never* tells us anything.  We’re just characters in her sick little game. 

L: We should give her a chance, at least.  I mean... she’s also responsible for a lot of our happiness too, if what she’s saying is correct. 

A: *Sighs* Fine. 

I’m sorry, but it seems like you guys were already on to me. The whole point of this meme is to, well... talk it out. I’m not sure why I thought this would be a good idea. 

But anyway, onward with the interview!  If you could be any kind of mineral, what would you *looks down at index card, and tosses it before laughing nervously.* You don’t have to answer that. I honestly have no clue what I’m doing. 

A: The first thing you’ve said that I’ll agree with.  

L: *Elbows him*

A: What? She deserves it.

L: *Glares*

Oh, this is a good one! And it’s not on an incendiary topic.  Let’s do it: What’s your favorite holiday and why?

L&A in unison: Wintersend 

What is your dream job?

A: I wasn’t exactly given the option to choose for myself, but growing up I always wanted to be a mabari trainer. I loved the dogs, and they seemed to like me, too.  *Shrug*

So not king then?

A: Ha- no. Not king. 

What about you, Luce?

L: Ignoring your informality, I don’t really know.  I know that I never really wanted to be a mage, but then again who does?  I really enjoyed working as Queen Anora’s court mage and adviser.  

What do you consider to be each other’s best quality. 

A: Lucia is, well, do I have to pick one?

Yes. 

A:In that case.. bravery.

L: Really?

A: Mhm. I’ve never met someone who is as fearless as Luce is, no matter what she is facing.  I admire her strength and ability to make tough decisions when nobody else can...even if I don’t always agree with her.

L: I... thank you. *clears throat* Alistair’s best quality is his gentleness.  The world is unforgiving, and it often mandates that someone ‘toughen up.’ Alistair has been through a lot and has managed to stay soft in spite of the hard life he was given. There aren’t enough soft people.

While we’re on the topic of things that will make me cry. Anything you regret doing?

L: I regret a lot of the things I did in the name of “Duty.” I shouldn’t have let Jowan sacrifice Isolde.  I shouldn’t have agreed to Morrigan’s ritual, I-

A: Luce. You did what you had to. 

L: I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t regret it. 

A: I regret treating Morrigan the way I did.  Sure, I don’t like her, but I really did push it.  Calling her a bitch was not one of my finer moments. It was rather, um, out of character.

You should write David Gaider a strongly worded letter then.

A: Who?

Nobody. AHEM Anywayyyyy....What is the one story in your life that you don’t want me to tell?

A: *whispers* I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t tell the one where Zevran taught me to dance.  You know... the one?

Oh...uh... well you see I may or may not have already told that one.

A: Just when I was starting to like you, too.  

L: I have a request.

Shoot.

L: No tales of my time at the Circle Tower before I was conscripted.

Vetoed.

L: If you are going to write them anyway, why do you ask?

Curiosity!

A: See, she’s evil!

Finnneeee. What is the story that you want me to tell next?

L: Considering the fact that the last story you told of us was the one where I left for Amaranthine, it’s only fair that the next story you tell be about my return.

A: Oh! I like that one. I agree.

I think you all are on to something there... Now, what shall I ask next. 

Make me a drink!  No, not a–a figurative drink.  Describe what sort of drink you would serve me.

L: An antidote.

Why?

L: Because Alistair’s answer is going to be poison.

A: *nods*

Well then. I see how it is. I am going to pretend to not be hurt and ask you this: If you could could have one thing in your life that’s beyond your control changed for you, what would it be?

L: I think that I would ask to not be born with magic.  It’s caused me nothing but trouble. 

A: I would want to have gotten the chance to know my parents. 

What’s the best thing that ever happened to you?

A & L in unison: Ash.

Ash is my doing, so see! I’m not entirely twisted. 

A: That’s fair.

Let’s say I give you one “save point” – you use it, and you can “reload” to that point, exactly once, at any point while you’re still alive.  What do you do with it?

A: That’s easy. I would use it to go back to Ostagar, right at the moment when I just finished pestering some grumpy mage. 

L: Ostagar? Really? You would want to go through that again?

A: There were a lot of awful things that happened after that I’d relive... if it meant I could fall in love with you all over again. 

L: I... there. I can’t answer after that. I refuse. 

Damn. I don’t even know if I can follow that, really.  I guess I’ll end with one last question. There are people reading about your tales  that really look up to you.  Are there any words of advice or encouragement you’d like to offer them?

L: Don’t be afraid to stand up for what you believe is right just because others disagree with you.  Doing what is right is rarely popular and never easy.

A: What she said. 

[avaquet]

TELL ME ABOUT YOUR OC: COMPANION EDITION

Rules:

Describe your OC as they are described by their companions.

Show us what they look like!

Tag at least 5 (or more) followers and 5 blogs you follow! :)

Enjoy writing!

Thank you so much @dirthara-mama ! This was a nice writing exercise for me! Also every response is pretty long and sorta encompasses what Evelyn did throughout the Inquisition, but I thought it easier to have them sorta react to the choices she made? Idk! And sorry if any sound OOC! This is the first time I’ve posted dialogue from anyone in the DA universe :D (excitingly scary I might add lol!)

Tagging: Oof, idk who’s already done this, and of course no obligation! @ironbullsmissingeye @underthedreadwolfsgaze @felorinbailenshield2 @nemichen and @wardenofmyheart !

I put things under the cut cause it be long

How the Inner Circle views Evelyn Lavellan!

(Real quick! There’s mentions of a character named Veil, she is my qunari OC that I HC in my canon that she’s part of the inner circle, though I do not do a reaction from her because well yeah) (I also pictured this as the characters telling a close friend about Ev, and not like a strange interviewer or something)

Blackwall: “Despite the lie I lived, she brought me back and made me a proper Grey Warden. That girl gave me a second chance I never asked for, but perhaps the one I needed. I feel stronger for having joined the Inquisition, came out a better man. I’m not the only one with that story here, she has that kind of influence on a person. I’ve been present for every judgement she judged and she had found a way to make the prisoner work for us or sent them off for a second chance. Like that one Avaar that threw goats at our walls, Maker that one was the first person she judged and he walked out a happy man! Exiled to hunt Venatori, then a while later his tribe got their own land and didn’t become bandits! (chuckles) Like I said, that girls leaves you a better person. I wish she’s see how helpful she’s been. Evelyn never feels like she’s done enough. But I’m grateful to her.”

Cassandra: “Evelyn as the Inquisitor has been...interesting to say the least. I know she means well, I just don’t know if it’s really the right choice she’s made at times. I’m thankful that everything worked out the way it did, though. She convinced me to rebuild the Seekers, she...ugh, she helped get Varric’s next book for me. She knew I liked his series, and I’m flattered. Evelyn has told me that she admires the energy I emit and asked how I do it. (chuckles) I asked her how she made the hard choices, and we both responded to our questions as we just improvise. She’s definitely grown on me, I’m sure of it. Evelyn’s been, thankfully, respectful of everyone’s beliefs. Well, except believing that she is the Herald, that time was frustrating for all of us to say the least. But, she doesn’t believe in either the Maker or the Elvhen gods as gods, which surprised me, but I...(sighs) she doesn’t need my judgement. Evelyn’s a good person, a good friend.”

Cole: “Screams that aren’t heard. She keeps screaming but nothing comes out. Hushed whispers from invisible scars haunt her. A weight no one sees. ‘Help me. Please.’ whispered into the pillow. Once petrified by dreams but in wake is more terrifying. She escapes, only coming back to help. Like me. I cannot make her forget, or anyone, but I feel more. She likes knowing someone wants to help. Smiles more now, genuine. Her friends finally heard her screams. A warm embrace fills her, the urge to yell dies down like a starving flame. Safe. More confident, she helps more, wants others to feel the same calm. I’m more human because of her. We like to garden and feel the earth beneath our feet and against our hands. Too busy to think of bad thoughts. It helps.”

Cullen: “The Inquisitor can change her mind too quickly in my opinion. Though, she’s hardened over time. She did help me overcome my lyrium addiction and support me through the process. I could feel she felt nervous around me at times, maybe it was because I’m an ex-Templar and she’s a mage. Which is why it surprised me that she was supportive during my recovery and how many chess matches she partook with me. We’re either matched at wits, or she just lengthens the game to keep me on edge, which, she’s always won. I wish I could’ve gotten to know her better, though, and despite my advice she would always use the Inquisitions forces as a last resort which I hardly agreed with. But, what’s done is done. Might I add, she has a companion dragon? Do you know how nervous that made me? A dragon!”

Dorian: “Evelyn? She’s one of the truest friends I’ve ever had. At first I was wary since she conscripted the mages. But she changed for the better, no doubt under my influence. I question her taste in literature, but I dare say she reads more than I do. How she can find time like that baffles me. She gets extraordinarily excited to fight dragons mind you, despite my protests. I...I think her and Bull consider it to be a date? Hardly romantic, maybe she got the idea from reading Varric’s books (scoffs). Ev told me about the meeting with my father and accompanied me to Redcliffe. She didn’t have to, she could’ve ignored it, she made time to help me personally. Though, she’s helped everyone personally, but my situation wasn’t dealing with a qunari alliance or a certain dwarf’s girlfriend from leaking red lyrium to Corypheus. I...I’m (sigh) grateful to call Evelyn Lavellan a friend. She’s kind and accepting and treats everyone with a kind of equity that is so rare.”

(slight nsfw in this one) The Iron Bull: “On the field, it’s like having a raging lightning storm with a fire tornado working with you. The look of determination and concentration on her face during battle is just so...(grunts). She’s my Kadan, beautiful, strong, intelligent, and I’m proud to be her Vhenan. We’ve shared many moments of all kinds together, helped me in many ways, realize things, helped me become the best I can be. I only hope I’ve helped her in the same way. The Chargers have already considered her a part of us with how much she hangs around, and fuck, if it wasn’t for the Inquisition, I’d ask her to join. Ev’s always fun to be around, she’s got the best jokes, Krem groans ‘cause she’s strengthened my pun game. And damn, does she have a fantastic body, and I get to see it in all its glory almost daily. The scars, her tits, the faces she makes when we go rough, yeah, she’s great. We’re great.”

Josephine: “Madame de Fer and I have to constantly remind her about her presentation to the world. Oh, I remember the stress at the Ball and having to watch over everyone almost like children. It’s also surprised me on how much culture she had not experienced before. Did you know, she’s never been to a full theater performance before? I made sure to change that as quickly as I could. I feel honored to be the first to introduce her to a variety of customs, she did help me annul the contract on my family after all. And on top of that, she respected my choice to doing it my way. She’s been amazing and got to witness me annihilate Cullen at Wicked Grace, and applauded me for doing so! I adore her and love the challenge she gave me during our time in the Inquisition. She came to me a lot for my use in diplomacy which, obviously, is something I respect. Even if...even if it didn’t save her clan, I thought she would hate me for failing, but she didn’t. I still feel awful and I apologize whenever it comes up, but she’s the one reassuring me? Don’t get me wrong, she avoided me for a bit after I told her, well, no one saw her for the rest of the night...but...oh, that got sad, I am thankful for her kindness.”

Leliana: “I won’t lie, at first I thought her compassion and mercy were a weakness, but she taught me otherwise. Ever since the death of her clan, I’ve been trying to get information on any survivors, she doesn’t deserve such a devastating loss, especially when it was during the middle of the Inquisition. She was always keen on listening to my suggestions at the war table and used my forces whenever possible. I think she was interested in adopting a nug from me before she started to raise a dragon! We all kept eyes on Elyana the dragon but somehow things just worked out. (chuckles) She did ask me to train her in becoming a bard, though I think she’s much more interested in what Maryden does than being a spy. Evelyn reminds me so much of the Hero of Ferelden. It took some convincing to get her to realize the severity of the oppression of mages and annulled the conscription. She was quite sheltered from the rest of the world in her clan and didn’t know much about the mage-templar situation. I think that’s why she listened to both Vivienne and I like mentors and (chuckles) parental figures as she’s called Vivienne mom a few times. All in all, Evelyn is precious and great, and I’m glad to have known her.”

Sera: “Oh her? Yeah, she’s fun to be around ‘n stuff. Elf, though, yeah. Not too elfy, so that’s good. Got too into her own glow, though. Rift mage or whatever, that’s too mage-y with that weird magic shite. And it’s a bit unnervin’ innit? I mean, she’s good, helps stick it to nobles in the best friggin’ way. (giggles) And we got to prank her whole lot, she don’t mind my cookies of shite on the roof either. Ev wants to be like people people, I can tell she’s different that way, but Viv keeps makin’ her wear that friggin’ sash and shite. Makes her, Ev, not seem like people, right. I like her and I don’t at the same time, yeah? Isn’t too elfy, good, but she’s too mage-y. Fun ‘n funny but can’t seem to make up her mind for shite. Like, listenin’ to Viv but also pieing nobles in the face. Look, she’s nice an’ all and she’s gettin’ there, but I think she needs a bit more pies to the face, yeah? (giggles) Or Bull to set her right when her arse needs it. (giggles) Get it? Eugh, never mind.”

Solas: “It took time to warm up to the Inquisitor, for she always kept people at a distance. For a time I thought...no. Perhaps she changed her mind. It was for the best anyways, I’m partially grateful that things did not escalate further. I got to train her in the ways of the Rift Mage, and in doing so I learned just how wise her spirit is. How adaptable and intelligent, it made me rethink about the Dalish, but she assured me it wasn’t them that made her that way. She has a tendancy to infuriate me, but I respect her will to listen as to why it does. Evelyn still has much to learn, and it’s been interesting to see her grow from her experiences. I know she abhors the Vallaslin on her face as she did not wish to partake in that tradition. Maybe...hopefully in time, there will be a way to safely remove it. As for the choices she has made, there are a few I have questioned. Thankfully, she took my advice on how to proceed with the Vir Abelasan. Evelyn Lavellan is young and ignorant, but I hold her to a high respect for her willingness to learn, help, restore, and fix her mistakes.”

Varric: “Blossom has been through a ton of shit. Made a lot of choices that she regretted. When Hawke came by, she talked Blossom into rethinking on her choice to deal with the mages and went back on the conscription, letting the mages be free within the Inquisition. I know Hawke’s been keeping in contact with her and they’re friends. Which is great! I taught her how to play Wicked Grace, heh, she’s not very good at it but she plays hard. Well, as in, she bets a lot and usually loses it all but weirdly, she doesn’t mind and is very enjoyable company. Her, Veil, Buttercup, Tiny, and I play cards regularly together. We all exchange stories, chuckle at her and Veil’s bickering and shitty pun wars with Tiny. Best parts of those are when Buttercup groans and usually leaves at that point. I feel bad for Blossom because she’s so nice, merciful, forgiving, and caring an this damn world of events keep forcing her through tough and impossible shit, and it’s broken her a few times. We helped pick up her pieces and continue on. She’s young and inexperienced. Shit, before the Inquisition, she’d never killed a person before. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to have a hero in this mess, I just think Andraste or luck or whatever chose unfairly. Or maybe her kind heart is exactly what we all need. That part about her hasn’t changed despite everything and I respect that deeply. I hope she’s able to live a happy life after all this.”

Vivienne: “Oh, Evelyn is a dear, very sweet and respectful. She listened to my teachings very well, especially on etiquette and it surprised me how much she already did out of habit considering she was raised in a Dalish clan on different customs. Though, she did say she didn’t follow Dalish traditions. We share many evenings together and hold conversations while she lets me braid her hair. I found it amusing when I helped her get ready for the Halamshiral Ball and had to teach not only her, but Iron Bull as well, on how to dance. Evelyn was easier to teach because she knows how to dance solo, but never had a partner. I remember she hated the Ball because she had to fight in a dress, with tight braids in her hair, makeup, and various accessories without messing any of it up lest she becomes suspicious or scandalous to the guests. Sadly, she despises The Game, though she’s very good at it. It was glorious. At the Winter Palace she went from being seen like a glorified servant to being on top and holding everyone at the court on strings like puppets along with their respect. Oh, a great sense of fashion and a good eye for decorations, though she dislikes constantly looking and dressing as nobility and I must remind her consistently on why it’s important. I do enjoy her company and I wish we saw more eye to eye on the subject on Circles and mages. At first we did, but as time went on she started agreeing more and more with our dear Spymaster.”

lol all in all, Ev is kind, caring, and smart. She got along with basically everyone, even if they didn’t see eye to eye on everything. Though other than Bull, I think she’s closest with Vivienne, Varric, and Dorian ( and my OC Veil, but I don’t post about her often)

[newamsterdame]

YOUR SHIRATORIZAWA MAGIC GUILD AU LOOKS SO !!!! I CAN'T WAIT TO READ IT OMG YES

i mean, if you can’t wait, who am i to deny you? 

both tender fire and bitter squall, a preview

–

Semi blinks open his eyes, takes one look at the room around him, and immediately turns over in bed, reaching up to smoosh his pillow over his head to stifle his groan. It’s no good, however. The sunlight is already peaking though his skewed curtains, making falling back asleep impossible. His only choice is to roll back over and face the day, as terrible a proposition as that is.

He kicks at the wall with one foot, trying to roll himself and his wrap of blankets to one side, but ends up overjudging the distance. Instead of stopping at the edge of his bed, he ends up rolling too far, landing in a heap of sheets on the floor.

“Damnit.” It takes a moment to extract himself—he’s landed on top of a single shoe, yesterday’s pair of pants and what feels like his guild badge. He gropes behind him for a moment before his fingers land on cool metal, and he pulls the badge up to eyelevel, frowning at it.

Shiratorizawa, also known as the Guild of White Feathers, boasts a badge indicative of the steep costs of joining. It’s shield-shaped, made of white gold and about the size of Semi’s fist. Two birds—a swan and an eagle—are engraved on its front, each embellished by a garnet eye. The back of the badge is engraved with Semi’s name and the date he was officially accepted by the guild. Now, he traces the numbers with his fingers, frowning in thought.

Has it really only been five years? It seems like so much longer than that, so much to let go of, if he had to…

“Oi, what are you doing?” The door to his bedroom bursts open, a wave of heat washing over the room before Tendou himself enters. He’s dressed for questing, a burgundy hooded cape thrown over his shoulders and the rest of his wardrobe a worn, serviceable black. He glances around the room, taking it all in with a slight crease forming between his brows. “Eita.”

Semi scowls at him, holding up one hand to stop him before he can say anything else. With the other, he reaches up to massage his temples, already dreading a day that brings Tendou Satori to his bedroom this early in the morning.

“It’s half past noon,” Tendou says helpfully, as though he’s gleaned Semi’s thoughts. And it’s not as if that’s an impossibility, but their guild has always frowned upon magical applications that go beyond the purity of elemental magic. If Tendou has been developing a talent for clairvoyance, he’s better off keeping it to himself.

“Shut up,” Semi shoots back, no bite in his words. He tugs at the blankets still wrapped around him, shoving them back onto the bed with little ceremony as he gets to his feet.

“Shut up about what, exactly?” Tendou leans in close, voice lilting cheerfully even as his eyebrows narrow over his widely-spaced eyes. “The fact that you’re still in bed so late? Or is it the state of your room? Or maybe, maybe, you were talking about last night—”

He never finishes the thought, because a gust of wind rises up suddenly and pushes him back, his back slamming into Semi’s bedroom door. There’s not enough force behind the wind for it to actually hurt Tendou, but he gives Semi a wounded look nonetheless before tipping his nose into the air.

“Ah. That struck a nerve, didn’t it?” Tendou hums as he dusts himself off, nodding to himself.

“I. Don’t. Want. To. Talk. About. It.” Semi turns away from Tendou, digging through the clutter spread out across his rug, looking for something decent to wear. Now that he thinks on it, maybe the headache he’d woken up with wasn’t just an omen of a bad day to come, but also a reminder of the horrific night he’d had. Either way, he doesn’t want to deal with it.

“Yeah. That was obvious.” Tendou skips around Semi’s bedroom with exaggerated, jerking motions, jumping over particularly obtrusive piles of Semi’s belongings. “Y’know, if you apologize and buy him flowers, Wakatoshi might even forgive you.”

Semi growls, low in his throat. “Shouldn’t he be the one apologizing to me?” he bites out, before thinking better of it. “And I said we weren’t going to talk about this.”

“Hmm.” Tendou shrugs, pulling one of Semi’s white, long-sleeved shirts from under an upended book. “Here,” he says, tossing it over.

Semi catches the shirt with one hand, sniffing it gingerly to gauge how clean it is. Good enough, he decides, turning it right-side-out and pulling it over his head.

“We’re taking bets, you know,” Tendou says after a moment. “On how much the Masters are going to punish you, for this.”

“Of course you are.” Semi finds his trousers under his desk chair, which is turned over onto its side. Chips of wood are missing from the seat and backrest, the casualties of constantly being thrown over.

“Try and piss them off a bit more, okay? So they make your punishment even worse and I win the bet.” Tendou says this conversationally, as though he doesn’t actually care about Semi’s penalty. And he probably doesn’t. When he joined the guild five years ago, at the same time as Semi, the Masters were quick to discover that the best way to handle Tendou was to let him do whatever the hell he pleased, and hoped that his self-interest lined up with the guild’s goals. Four times out of five, they do, and the Masters are content with that. Semi can’t remember the last time Tendou was given an official penalty.

“I’ll do my best.” Semi keeps his voice flat, finding one of his boots under his bed and the other on top of his writing desk. He rights the chair to sit and pull them on, lacing them up as Tendou continues to flit about the room, considering Semi’s potential fates.

A minute later, two black gloves smack Semi in the face.

“Whoops,” Tendu says, when Semi pulls them away from his face to glare at him. “But look, I found both of them for you!”

Semi makes a disgruntled noise but doesn’t otherwise comment, instead pulling the gloves on, first the left and then the right, so that the last bit of skin he covers is the guild tattoo that marks the inner portion of his right wrist—the outline of two feathers, one crossed over the other.

He stands up, fully dressed, to see Tendou poking at the few books remaining in his bookshelf.

“Man,” Tendou says, eyes wide as he whistles, impressed. “It’s been awhile since you’ve caused this much damage, Semisemi. Did you have a bad dream, or something?”

Semi squeezes his eyes closed, debating whether it’s worth kicking Tendou out of his room at this point. He doesn’t need to look around to know how much of a mess the place is—his clothes pulled out of the wardrobe and strewn across the floor, his books dumped unceremoniously beside them, picture frames yanked off of the walls, papers scattered, inkpots shattered against the walls. Tendou’s right. He should’ve outgrown this, by now. He should have more control. He should be better, more able to—

“Hey.” Tendou’s hand is on his shoulder, shaking him. “I like your tornadoes, you know. They’re cool. But you’re gonna be broke forever, if you keep having to replace all the things you break.”

Semi frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. He knows Tendou’s right, but he’s never quite managed the control that most other air mages seem to tend towards naturally. Air is a flirt—it likes to hint at things, to push gently where it can. Semi’s wind is more like a battering ram, forceful and overdone. And when he sleeps, it’s worse, a spiraling force that rips his room to shreds no matter how much Semi tries to lock things in beforehand.

Tendou leans in again, flicking his index finger against Semi’s forehead. “Stop thinking so hard,” he complains. “We’re going to be late.”

Semi doesn’t manage to stifle his groan, this time. “Do we have to go?”

The response is chirping laughter. “Well, yeah. I thought you were the one excited to have an apprentice?”

“I was. I am.”

“Well. Then there’s no problem, is there?”

–

The Shiratorizawa Guild Hall is a building made of white marble, draped in maroon banners that display the guild’s motto—“Intense Force”—to the world. On good days, Semi finds the building awe-inspiring. On bad ones, he thinks it’s pretentious.

Today, he trudges up the steps with belligerent force, determined not to let anyone else see his hesitation. The hallways are littered with people, gusts of wind and small bursts of rain accompanying mages running to and from various offices. Semi edges past all of them, not eager to engage in conversation. Instead, he follows Tendou to the main hall, his breath getting shorter the closer they are to getting there.

It’s an old ritual, and one the guild has been eager to reinstate. War had ripped across the continent when Semi was a child, leaving the various guilds devoid of members as more and more mages were conscripted into the government’s special army units. Semi doesn’t remember much of that time, but the mages who’d entered the guild with him had all been taught in a singular class—there weren’t enough specialists to divide them up amongst individual teachers.

But now Shiratorizawa is celebrating a decade and a half as the strongest guild on the continent, boasting a heavy bench of powerful mages. And so the incoming class will have the opportunity for apprenticeships with Shiratorizawa’s up and comers.

A few months ago, when the Masters had first asked him to take on a pupil, it has seemed like a good idea.

“You two are late,” a soft voice says as they enter the main hall. Reon is standing by the doorway, leaning against the wall and looking at them in that way he has—both sympathetic and exasperated.

“Eita-kun overslept,” Tendou responds cheerily. “I already came by once this morning, but they hadn’t posted assignments, yet!”

Semi feels judged when Reon’s gaze lands on him, which probably isn’t a fair. Reon does judge, but only because he cares. Only because he understands. It makes it harder to be hostile towards him, and honestly at the moment Semi resents that more than anything. He doesn’t want anyone’s pity.

“Just try and make it work with your kid, yeah?” Reon says, smilingly kindly—ugh. There he goes again. “Then everything will be just fine.”

“You don’t need to tell me that,” Semi says, pressing his lips together. “Besides, shouldn’t you be warning Tendou? If anyone’s going to scare off their pupil, it’ll be him.”

Reon shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe whoever it is will be excited enough to work with the Guess Monster that they’ll overlook his… eccentricities.”

“Hey!” Tendou turns around sharply, wagging a finger in Reon’s direction. “I’m right here, and I don’t have any eccentricities!”

Reon lifts both of his brows. “Of course you don’t.”

Semi doesn’t bother trying to reinsert himself into the conversation. What could he say, anyway? That Reon’s made it obvious that there’s nothing about Semi that would keep his pupil around, if they didn’t get along otherwise?

Unless they want to learn how to produce untamable tornadoes, Semi thinks darkly.