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vrnvuld · 8 months

Text

Louise Glück, Seizure

Andrea Salvatori, Testone

Mikko Harvey, Wind-Related in the Wheatfield

Jane Austen, Letters

Ruth Awad, In the gloaming, in the roiling night

Anne Sexton, A Self Portrait in Letters

Eden Robinson, Writing Prompts for the Broken-hearted

this is like a massive post because this is also our final farnauld playlist that's made of four parts. it's meant to tell their full story <3 can't say we really expect anyone to read through this or even check the songs but if someone wants a really weird playlist, u can listen to it here xx

ACT I: WE JUST PLAY ALONG, COME ON, COME ON

001. TRY TRY TRY --- RACHAEL SAGE. 002. I’M NOT CALLING YOU A LIAR --- FLORENCE + THE MACHINE. 003. COME ON --- WHITE LIES. 004. ON DIRECTING --- TEGAN & SARA. 005. POISON --- VAULTS. 006. EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE --- DENMARK + WINTER. 007. CANDLES --- DAUGHTER. 008. WICKED TEETH --- CIARAN LAVERY. 009. AFFECTION --- AMBER RUN.

this is the part where they get together. they're off-balance. he's playing his own game and she's trying to make everything work together. this is the first time cracks begin to form within the croÿ ranks. this part of the playlist is a mixture of songs that are fairly dark. the most notable lyrics can be found in ' poison ': " we both know you're sweet and blind / palm struck on the floor // won't you let me poison your heart ? ". isa posted this part of the playlist years ago and it's here x.

ACT II: THERE'S HISTORY IN A SCAR

010. PURGE --- ALLIE X. 011. WE USED TO LAUGH / 9 TO 9 --- FLORA CASH. 012. HYENA --- THE EDITORS. 013. LIFFEY --- PILLOW QUEENS. 014. SPIDERS --- THE EDITORS. 015. TIME COMES IN ROSES --- BESS ATWELL. 016. I'M NOT YOURS --- ANGUS & JULIA STONE. 017. PETRICHOR --- KEATON HENSON.

this would be the post-break up era. their numerous conversations and arnauld's relentless bullying. the wounds were raw, incredibly so and arnauld had a need to show her the mistake she had made by cutting him so. fanni on the other hand struggled between feeling proud of her decision and knowing she had let go of more than just a person she loved: it was the opportunity to build a life outside of her family. both of them tormented each other just by existing. it was difficult to hate someone you loved. it was difficult to despise someone you had known so well. the sensitivity eventually made space for some sort of a relationship. they could hold conversations. they could blackmail each other and remind the other how deep their knowledge of the other went. the first two songs most certainly represent fanni and her struggles. in ' purge ' we get the lines: " you went anyway, but all of your chains / and ropes holding me stayed in place " and " every word you told me left such a rancid taste in my mouth / i can't purge you ". we had ' we used to laugh / 9 to 9 " on every edit back in 2019. it was such a perfect song for them at that time. " you said i won't ever leave your side no one else is worth my while no one else is worth my while were you like that all the time ? did you repeat this from 9 to 9 ? never come back never come back you put a hole in and opened up my heart put me down in my darkest dark we used to laugh we used to laugh " then we have the editors songs that got chosen for the darkness. arnauld was doing his best to get fanni to beg for forgiveness. the bitterness was felt constantly. ' liffey ' on the other hand is arnauld's realization that he's not in charge of himself or the situation. he is absolutely ruined and she holds far too much power — it's not just arnauld who knows secrets and ways to manipulate the other, fanni's just as capable !

ACT III: WHEN I LOSE MY HEAD, I LOSE MY SPINE

018. COOL ABOUT IT --- BOYGENIUS. 019. LUCKY FOR YOU --- NOVO AMOR, GIA MARGARET. 020. I MISS YOU, I'M SORRY --- GRACIE ABRAMS. 021. DAYDREAMS --- EXES. 022. SEABED --- NANNA. 023. LATE NIGHT TALKS --- DEPORTEES. 024. HEAVENLY --- CIGARETTES AFTER SEX 025. HOPELESS WANDERER --- MUMFORD & SONS. 026. THAT'S WHEN ( TV ) --- TAYLOR SWIFT.

this part is about their healing journey. when the mind games stopped. when it was just two people. a fairly wholesome part in their story. they had affection for one another and perhaps for the first time they did not have some role to play. it was just friendship ( or at least as platonic a relationship as it could be between these two ). some codependency issues existed, of course. fanni needed a shoulder. arnauld liked being needed by her. ' late night talks ' is possibly the most spot on song in part iii. in it we get: " the phone rings / in the middle of the night / i can tell you're upset / i'm here / and i'm ready to work ". ' seabed ' is incredibly touching too and probably our favourite track. it's a good peek into fanni's fragile state of mind. " and you caught me off guard, and / i was never lonely / but now i'm feeling like an only child / let me sink into you arms / you're the ocean floor / i guess i just needed that ". the songs in this section are vulnerable and beautiful. ' lucky for you ' has a line that made it earn its spot: " and i'm not what i thought i would be without you ".

ACT IV: I'VE OUTGROWN THE PAST

027. I WANT YOU --- MO. 028. YOU'RE SO COOL --- NICOLE DOLLANGANGER. 029. LIGHTS CHANGING COLOR --- STARS. 030. LIVING ROOM, NY --- LAURA STEVENSON. 031. SIGNAL FIRE --- SNOW PATROL. 032. BLOODCLOT / ANDVAKA --- NANNA. 033. CRACK THE SHUTTERS --- SNOW PATROL. 033. SEND FOR ME --- THE NATIONAL. 034. THIS LAND IS MINE --- DIDO. 035. THIS LOVE (TV) --- TAYLOR SWIFT. 036. I WILL FOLLOW YOU INTO THE DARK --- MIYA FOLICK. 037. COSMIC LOVE --- FLORENCE + THE MACHINE. 038. SHALLOWS --- DAUGHTER.

this is the happily-ever-after part because they've been so sad for such a long time. we seriously considered not having them end up together but they deserve each other <3 <3 this section has love songs but we managed to sprinkle a few darker ones too because fanni and arnauld have never been simple and sweet. ' this love ' is probably the stand out song, it seems so fitting ! i mean c'mon: " this love is alive back from the dead / these hands had to let it go free, and / this love came back to me ". not to make things too cheesy though we have ' lights changing color ', which is by no means a negative song but it's more about staying out of one's head and, well, happy ! " when you find that the ones that keep you lifted / love them 'cause they keep you out of your head / they keep you out of your head / they keep you steady ". the songs are quite mellow and sound pretty fragile in a sense, save for a few tracks. the last two songs are more abstract. ' cosmic love ' is possibly one of the most beautiful songs on this playlist and to ever exist. i can see their devotion to each other growing into something blinding. this maybe relates to fanni more, she seems more likely to make love and her life with arnauld the only thing she surrounds herself with. there's just that and nothing else. but... arnauld is not too far from this state. he'll be able to reason with himself and he has his duties, but considering how recklessly he acts all things fanni... " i took the stars from my eyes and then i made a map / and knew that somehow i could find my way back / then i heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too / so i stayed in the darkness with you... " the playlist ends with ' shallows ' because it was so serene. serene and hauntingly beautiful. it's a sister-song to ' i will follow you into the dark '. when one parts from this world, will the other come find them when it's time ?

#[ ;; fanni. ]

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dbom · 2 years

Video

vimeo

12 INCH MOTION // 100 Animated Album Covers from Felix Neumann on Vimeo.

12 INCH MOTION is an homage to the art of the album cover. In short and subtle animated loops the project brings the original cover art to life. After a little more than one year, these are the first 100 animations. A big shoutout and thank you to all artists, musicians, labels and animators involved. On to another 100 loops!

For more info and further credits go to 12inchmotion.tumblr.com or follow @12inchmotion on Instagram.

/// Guest submissions (in order of appearance) :

/// Full list of album covers (as posted on tumblr):

[001] Suff Daddy - Suff Sells [002] CØDA - Between The Lines [003] Jerz & Stel One - Home Grown [004] Schoolboy Q - Oxymoron [005] Pierre Sonality - Magdeburg [006] The Notorious BIG - Ready To Die [007] Nosaj Thing - Fated [008] Andy Stott - Luxury Problems [009] Figub Brazlevič - Oldschool Future [010] Deafheaven - Sunbather [011] Audio88 & Yassin - Das Gleiche wie immer, bitte. [012] Apollo Brown - Clouds [013] Wun Two - Rio [014] SBTRKT - Wonder Where We Land [015] Scarf Face - Achtung Achtung [016] Fink - Hard Believer [017] Shlohmo - Dark Red [018] SSIO - BB.U.M.SS.N [019] Madvillain - Madvillainy [020] Nils Frahm - Screws [021] Flying Lotus - You’re Dead! [022] S.Maharba - S.Maharba [023] Joey Badass - 1999 [024] Nirvana - Nevermind [025] Lapalux - Nostalchic [026] The Ahmad Jamal Trio - The Awakening [027] Build Buildings - There Is A Problem With My Tape Recorder [028] JJ DOOM - Key To The Kuffs [029] The Maccabees - Colour It In [030] Metronomy - The English Riviera [031] Julien Mier - When Will They Wake Up? [032] Tycho - Awake [033] A Thousand Years - Patterns, Colours, Textures, Emotions [034] This Will Destroy You - Another Language [035] Metome - Phreatic Surface [036] The Doors - Morrison Hotel  [037] Future Islands - Singles [038] Yung Hurn - Krocha Tape [039] Mount Kimbie - Blood And Form [040] Jungbluth - Lovecult [041] Town Portal - The Occident [042] Synapson feat. Anna Kova - All In You [043] Flying Lotus - Pattern + Grid World [044] Feist - The Reminder [045] Oneohtrix Point Never - R Plus Seven  [046] Heathered Pearls - Body Complex [047] The Alchemist - Israeli Salad  [048] Shlohmo - Vacation EP [049] A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory // Midnight Marauders [050] Fink - Perfect Darkness  [051] King Geedorah - Take Me To Your Leader [052] Kakkmaddafakka - KMF [053] Fulgeance - Cubes [054] Mark Morrison - Return Of The Mack [055] Four Tet - Beautiful Rewind [056] Hiob & Morlockk Dilemma - Kapitalismus Jetzt [057] blink-182 - Enema Of The State [058] The Police - Outlandos d’Amour [059] Tahiti Boy & Mr. Oizo - Wrong O.S.T. [060] SOHN - Tremors [061] Lullatone - Songs That Spin In Circles [062] Audio88 & Yassin - Halleluja [063] Mammal Hands - Floa [064] Tegan and Sara - I Was A Fool [065] Gold Panda - Good Luck And Do Your Best [066] Kafka Tamura - Nothing To Everyone [067] Mndsgn - Breatharian [068] Hubert Daviz - Another Backstein Invazion 01 & 02 [069] Robot Orchestra - Chasing Rainbows [070] Yosi Horikawa - Vapor [071] King Krule - 6 Feet Beneath The Moon [072] KAYTRANADA - 99.9% [073] Kodak To Graph - ISA [074] Dummer Lump - Dummer Lump [075] Kreʞрek - AudioDope 03 [076] DJ Shadow - The Mountain Will Fall [077] Vessels - Helioscope [078] Nosaj Thing - NO REALITY [079] GoGo Penguin - Man Made Object [080] Rival Consoles - Night Melody [081] Hawk House - A Handshake To The Brain [082] Fever Ray - Fever Ray [083] Fresh Selects - Tight Songs [084] Touché Amoré - Parting The Sea Between Brightness And Me [085] MF DOOM - OPERATION: DOOMSDAY (Original Version // Remastered) [086] Fulgeance - To All Of You [087] Sleepy Eyes - Burnout [088] SOHN - Signal [089] Paper Tiger - Sonic Boom Head Zoom 3 [090] FKA twigs - LP1 [091] The Thermals - The Body, The Blood, The Machine [092] The Whitest Boy Alive - Dreams [093] Wun Two - Penthouse [094] Fulgeance - homecooking [095] City and Colour - Bring Me Your Love [096] Shout Out Louds - Our Ill Wills [097] Shout Out Louds - Howl Howl Gaff Gaff [098] Editors - The Back Room [099] Flamingosis - Bright Moments [100] Moses Boyd - Rye Lane Shuffle

/// Music: Dreamchild - Fantasies | soundcloud.com/soundsofadream/fantasies-1

/// Joy Division-GIF made with this generator by Garrett Finucane: garrettdreyfus.github.io/unknownpleasures

/// 12inchmotion.tumblr.com

/// Berlin, 2015-2016

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mythalsknickers · 5 years

Note

From DADWC - "things you said with too many miles between us" sounds fun for a Solavellan pairing. ;)

You created a monster lol, I am going to be posting this on Ao3 as well. @dadrunkwriting

There was no pain, her arm was just gone, and he was leaving. She tried to stand up stumbling forward crying out pain as her knees connected with the ancient stones that made up the broken cobbled path. Panic seized her she didn’t have the strength to move let alone make it to the Eluvian.

“ma Vhenan!” her voice sounded foreign to her own ears full of anguish and pain she didn’t feel. He paused, turning just barely towards her. “Don’t Solas! Don’t leave me ma vhenan!” she begged standing up. It was natural she pulled on the fade with her right hand. The mist began to form around her as she took a step forward. With a breath, she disappeared into the fade hoping it would work.

The light robes swished as she strolled through the doors of the Exalted Council. Her bare toes and heels were soundless against the mirror like tile, her passing through the crowd only marked by the faint jingling of the six tiny leaves that adorned her collar. A quiet hush fell over the crowd. Arl Tegan and the Orlaisian unaware of her soundless arrival continued their heated debate.

“The Herald of Andraste.” A woman whispered reaching out to touch her like she was their savior. The man next to her snatched the woman's hand back.

“It is a Rabbit woman! She was not sent by Blessed Andraste! More likely the demons her people worship!” He spits toward Fen’aslan. Without a sound, she passed him. As she became visible to her former advisors she could see Josephine’s visible relief and the Divine’s smug smile. She knew her plan. Good, this would no surprise Leliana. Her appearance effectively pulling the two lords form their argument, just as she desired. She wanted their undivided attention.

“You all know what this is!” She raised her voice, with each step she took towards the Dais till she came face to face with the men who would attempt to be the Judge, Jury, and Executioner of her organization. She had become that as Inquisitor. Behind her, the crowd waited with bated breath for her next words. Exhaling she spun on her heel facing them. “This is a Writ from Divine Justinia, authorizing the formation of the Inquisition.” She clearly showed them the book opening it just barely. “We pledged to close the Breech, find those responsible, and restore order. With or without anyone’s approval.” As she turned to partially face Arl Tegan she caught Cassandra’s smirk and nod of approval.

With another breath she continued. “It was not a formalized treaty, that saved Ferelden or her People. The Inquisition saved them when you could not. We will not disband for you.” She could hear as he sat back into his chair taken aback. His expression said it all. How dare she have the gall. She withheld her smile her eyes meeting the Orlaisian. “We will not submit to an empress who failed to end your inane civil war, and only keeps her throne because of Inquisition support!” At that the Orlaisians women gasped, the men put hands on swords and yelled. She knew the insults and each one was like armor. “This was never just an organization. It was about people doing what was necessary. We will continue to support you as we have done.” Her eyes met Leliana as the Divine bowed her head. “There is worse coming than anything you’ve yet seen. We will not be rendered defenseless and riddled with bureaucracy and politics of the game. The inquisition will bow but it will not be to either of you.” Her long strides away from the dais carried her anger. “Now Excuse me I need to save the world again!” She thrust the writ at Josephine. “I will see you back at Skyhold.”

The gasps and protests of a blasphemous rabbit and the claimed herald of andraste not bowing to her betters grew louder. She passed through the divided crowd. Throwing open the doors to the chamber she grabbed her staff from a page.

As she materialized out of the fade, she could see the eluvian starting to darken, she quickly pushed herself through. How dare he try to shut her out again. Stumbling forward into the crossroads she couldn’t see him “Solas Tel’tuaun min ea el’u i em!” As she moved away from the mirror she could see it closing behind her… A split second she wanted to jump through but she continued away from home away from a guaranteed future. “lasa em’an dirth ma’lath.” She begged they needed to talk.

Each mirror she passed she sketched and made a note in relation to her path. “Ma tel’isala dina sul min! Tamahn emen to ea vir!” She cried out to emptiness. Closing her eyes, she sank down to the ground. “Fen’aslan ma ane a felasil Fen’harel.” She felt tears stain her cheeks her body began to shake as she curled forward sobbing. He had left her again.

“Ma ane las. Da’lan.” She opened her bleary eyes noting the vallaslin. It was her own, Fen’harel’s eyes was what her clan named it. “Ma ane isa ghi’la.” The elvhen asserted crouching down. “Ar ame Rashale. Las ma ane naim, ar juhalani ma vena mar sal.” He offered his hand and she took it standing with him, leading her over to a mirror. “Fen’harel Enasanal.” He spoke and the mirror sprang to life and he pulled her through it.

“Rashale?” she glanced at him and he turned back. “Do you understand me.” She was keeping it to the common language. At his nod, she continued “Can you speak like this?” at his nod, her shoulders relaxed. “Where are we?”

“The ones who raise you call it the Tirashan.” He replied as he lead her into the temple. “This was where Mythal sent you to protect you from the Veil going up.” He watched her as her hand traced the wards on the temple walls, as soon as she removed her hand there was a pulse through them. “Temple of the Hoping Moon.” He offered as he guided her deeper into the temple. Statues of two wolves appeared everywhere.

In a week she had learned more then she thought she could up. Las and Solas former spirits that spawned as Mythal’s power grew. As Solas took form, she partially manifested form and Mythal named her Evuniala. She could remember that. The temple was for her, the evanuris had planned on her calming Solas, Mythal was well what she had learned to expect of Mythal. She was brought here and put in Uthenera. When she woke she was a child who did not know the Elvhen so Rashale gave her to the Dalish. Laying back on the bed she took a breath closing her eyes. Letting herself drift until she could find the fade. She had hidden in her mind long enough.

“Vhenan.” She came face to face with him. “Where are you?” she stood up and the images around them changed he was trying to find her.

“Where are you vhenan?” She countered shifting the fade on her own. “I will find you vhenan. I told you I would not give up.” Around her, the fade stilled, Arlathan.

“I know you will not Vhenan…” he seemed reluctant looking around. “Allow me to show you these before we do not have time?” She nodded offering her hand.

“em ghi’lana.” She offered gently as he took her hand squeezing it. He lead her through the glass spires of the city, She watched the details, seeing reflections of her and Solas. “In another time…” she smiled fondly they had.

“Yes, Vhenan.” He added turning and taking her left hand? Her brows furrowed. “This is the fade.” He whispered pressing close to her beginning to dance. As they moved over the glass tiles the room filled with people. “The Evanuris held such parties often, this was the night.” He started before spinning her. “The night everything I cared for was taken from me.” He growled and the music took a deadly twist as she watched Mythal crumble to the floor. One of Mythal’s sentinels spirited her away while the Dread wolf confronted them. She watched next to Solas as the party ended with violent threats.

“Wake up Vhenan.” He leaned forward sadly and kissed her cheek. As her eyes opened she sighed. Now it began.

Elvhen Translations

Solas Tel’tuaun min ea el’u i em! (Solas don’t cause this to be a secret with me)

lasa em’an dirth ma’lath. (Let’s talk about it my love)

Ma tel’isala dina sul min! Tamahn emen to ea vir! (You dont need to die for this! There has to be another way!)

Fen’aslan ma ane a felasil Fen’harel. (You are a fool to chase Fen’harel)

Ma ane las. Da’lan. (You are hope. Young one)

Ma ane isa ghi’la. (You are his guide)

Ar ame Rashale. Las ma ane naim, ar juhalani ma vena mar sal. (I am Rashale. Hope you are lost, I will help you find your soul.)

em ghilana (guide me/ show me)

Vhenan (love)

#Aly-the-writer #DAdrunkwriting #Prompt fill #Solas x Evuniala #sollavellan hell #Post trespasser #Ancient elvhen #ma ghi'lan ma nas ma las #Elvhen language #sollavellan

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gaytrashgoblin · 6 years

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AHOY BABY GAY HERE ARE A FEW THINGS FOR U TO ASK ILY!!!!! 4, 5, 20, 43 :)

ISA! Are you getting into the holiday spirit like me??? I’m listening to Pentatonix holiday music on repeat. We don’t even really celebrate, but im a slut for that music XD

4. Describe your style- gay as hell

5. Describe your aesthetic- dark/moody bad girl (yknow, leather jackets, motorcycles, rain, dark colors etc)

20. Favorite lesbian song? Ooooooooooo literally anything by Hayley Kiyoko/ Tegan and Sara.

43. What is your Myers-Briggs type? INTJ, if i remember correctly

Lesbian Asks

#asks #freaking-isadorkable #here are some things about me #hello Isa #i hope youre doing well friend

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gothforb1d · 6 years

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what i need and erase my mind for the song asks please!

what i need: who are your favourite gay artists? what are your favourite gay songs?

i love hayley kiyoko ofc, syd, shura, and tegan and saraand my fave gay song rn is I Wanna Be Your Girlfriend by girl in red

ease my mind: what makes you feel at peace? what is your perfect future like? what do you do at the end of a long day to unwind?i just love being w isa and my dogs!! for my future i just wanna live in a cute lil house w a garden and gay decor!!

#Anonymous

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topbooksindiet · 5 years

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Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World - Isa Chandra Moskowitz, Terry Hope Romero, Sara Quin & Tegan and Sara http://dlvr.it/RB1dbk http://dlvr.it/RB1dbk

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dogueteeth-fhr · 5 months

Text

something yet unnamed.

Beck(formerly known as Isa) x Roach (Sidestep x Sidestep)

sfw | A little moment between Beck and Roach(@salem-wilde 's blorbo) before the poly with Tegan is set. | AO3 Link

Available Below the Cut

"Beck."

The sky is so starless. Staring at it doesn't help. Mars seems so bright in the city, but you know how tiny and beautiful it can be in the full weight of a galaxy undisturbed by electricity and smog.

"Beckster."

Maybe you should go back out to the desert some day. It wasn't the most stable time in your life, living out in the wilderness, callusing your feet on stones and eating scorpions and saguaro fruit. But it was peaceful. Cold. And when you looked into the night sky, it was beautiful.

"Beck."

Just like them.

"Becky."

Your nose crinkles at the name, and Roach giggles, bright and amused. The little shit.

So you rest your head on them in retaliation. Comfort. Letting them know they have your attention. It's better for the both of you than eye contact or a verbal response. You're not used to either. But you're not used to touch, either. You hesitate before your temple lands on their head, heart squeezing uncomfortably and hands prickling with sweat, but Roach doesn't seem to mind. They bask in it. Bathe in the touch after a small hitch in their breath. Is it easier for them than it is for you, to be touched? Or are they just braver about it?

Brave or desperate and you're not sure what either really means because you're raising your arm to let Roach cuddle into your side, your arm wrapped around them like... what? Friends? You're not sure if the word applies to the two of you any more. Not since they kissed you. Not since you kissed them back, and you've been avoiding it, avoiding them, avoiding talking about it. You don't know what it means. Sometimes you don't want to know. That means putting a name to it. Making an enemy known. Could you trust them with that? Talking? Talking never solved anything for you. It just made problems worse. Digging your own grave and putting the dirt on like a pair of pajamas. Forgetting the bells and gravestone.

Touching them is your form of communication, in a sense. The comfortable way of talking. Letting them know that, whatever the hell the weirdness is between you two, you trust them enough to let them touch you.

Trust them enough to close your eyes. Breathe in, feel the world around you as they speak, jaw moving against your shoulder, and you're more aware of them than you ever would have been with just your ears. Aware that they keep their eyes open for you. Keeping an eye on the world while you let yourself expand, let go, relax. Extend yourself into tendrils of thought and awareness poking at the world. Poking at the little pinpricks of thought around you. People passing by the park turned away with a small push because surely there's nicer places than a dark bundle of trees to walk this evening. Ants on the hill, minds too alien and distant to be understood, more pheromone than thought, but still alive and real in a tangible way, speaking to each other in ways you can't understand, speaking... the bug is speaking.

Roach is speaking.

And you want to listen.

"... I just think you two would get along, you know? I think it'd be nice."

"Nice to what?"

"Meet him." They say, pulling away from you to squint a little, and oops. You really should've been paying better attention to them. It just felt too nice. To close your eyes and rest for a bit.

"I'm not good at meeting anybody."

"Neither is he," they say, flashing a quick smile that your eyes hone in on a little too fast. The curl of their lips says they noticed, even as you blink and try to look away quickly. You definitely don't swallow a little as their finger traces the line of your jaw. This is fine. They're just being friendly. Just being Roach. As long as you avoid thinking about the fact they're remembering what it was like to kiss you. As long as you don't think about how you're blushing and remembering how that felt, too. "That's why I think you'll get along."

"Putting two awkward people together hardly sounds like a good idea." Their fingers are on your lips, teasing, and you can't avoid looking at them anymore. Can't avoid staring them down a bit, daring them to do something about it. Pull away. Draw closer. Back off, pretend it never happened. Kiss you again. Pull you close and tell you to kiss them again. Roach shrugs.

"You're both difficult people," they say with that quirky little smirk. "I think you'll cancel each other out."

"That so?" You whisper, because Roach has inched closer, so close, very close. You can feel the fur lining of their coat tickle your covered collarbones. Their hands are in your coat, pulling you closer, slow. Their breath is on your lips, and you could push them away, stop them. You're small but they're so much smaller than you. That's a rarity. One that would make it easy to brush them off, walk away, and go about your life as if nothing ever happened.

But you don't.

And their lips are so soft.

A little chapped, but soft, velvety and warm against yours, and you're sure that your lips are much worse. Rough, never enough water. Stiff, unused to kissing and being kissed, awkward, though you suppose they're not much better in that regard either, with the way they forget to turn their head and your noses are squished together for a few, uncomfortable seconds. Breaking away for each other with small, crimped smiles because it's silly, and Roach breaks first but you can't help your small, breathless laugh either. Maybe you're not ready to name it. Whatever this is. But you're not sure you can push it away, either. Can't push Roach away.

"So," you drawl, tilting your head to give them a suitably suspicious look, "who's this mystery guy you really want me to meet?"

"Tegan," they say, all moonlit freckled smile, "his name is Tegan."

#cerrisa beck becerra #roach ryder #fhr #sidestep #fhr sidestep #sidestep/sidestep #fluff writing #oneshot

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rowan-berry · 5 years

Text

Tagging Game

Tagged by: @terresdebrume. Thank you :)

Rules: Answer 21 questions and then tag 21 however many people you’d like who you want to know better.

Nickname: Rowan or Isa.

Sign: Aquarius (Gemini Rising, Sagittarius Moon)

Height: 165cm.

Last movie I saw: I think that was A Perfect Ending, and boy, that one sucked a lot. Why is it so hard to find decent lesbian movies?? There can’t only be Carol and Imagine You & Me!

Last thing I googled: Specifics about casinos and gambling in the late 1940s for a short story I’m planning.

Favorite musician: I really don’ have one but a whole army. Including the guys from Queen, Wardruna, Nightwish, Blind Guardian, ASP, Tobias Sammet and his Avantasia crew, Tori Amos, Kai Altair, Florence and the Machine, Tegan and Sara, Karliene, Faun (at least I love their old stuff), Kamelot, Loreena McKennitt... the list goes on and on :)

Song stuck in my head: Maniac - the weird Avantasia cover. I mean, whyyyy? (but it was still fun at the concert).

Other blogs: None on tumbr.

Do I get asks: Practically never, but then again I rarely engage up here at all.

Blogs following: I follow 67 blogs and have 48 followers

Amount of sleep: About 6-7 hours.

Lucky number: I don’t like numbers and numbers don’t like me, so I guess there’s no luck to be found there. We could talk about lucky letters though :)

What I’m wearing: Sport pants, bra and top because I really, really want to work out and go for a run in the forest today. It’s all black because black’s my thing and my body refuses to touch any brighter colors :)

Dream job: Mh, since I’m not sure I would even want to be a full-time writer, I gess I’m already there. My current job, but as a part-time-thing so I’d have more time for writing while making websites better and telling companies how to do their online marketing :)

Dream trip: I want to do a scandinavia tour one day, finishing in Island. And I want to do a hiking trip on the route I picked for my big-ass novel in progress. It would include hiking in France, Slovenia and Poland.

Favorite food: When depression doesn’t make me hate food in general, I lovelovelove porridge with apples, rice stirfry, biryani, my girlfriend’s vegan lasagna and anything with fresh coriander.

Play any instruments: I play a little bit of guitar, piano and flute, and while some people don’t consider singing an instrument, my vocal chords are the instruments I’m best with. My favorite instrument, too. .

Languages: German, English, bits and pieces of Spanish and French, Latin, Swedish and some very tiny bits of Sindarin and Quenya :D

Random fact: I set my alarm clock at weird times (never 5:45 - it’s either 5:40, 5:44 or 5:48!) .

Describe yourself as aesthetic things: Its kinda counter-productive that I cut off my hair today, but Anathema device in the Good Omens series is all the asthetics I want for myself..

I tag: @heartofoshun @trovia @floralprintshark @formerlyknownas-delight @hawtnip and whoever else wants to join in :)

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glitchy-npc · 6 months

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WIP Wednesday

Squeaking by in the 11th hour, ty for the tag @silvery-bluish

hmmm lets see, a lot of what I could gratuitously call being "worked on" is kinda in its boring stages but here's a few snippets.

From my extremely belated Levi/Tegan OC Kiss Week drabble

I drop my guard for a second to wipe the blood from my nose. It hurts like a bitch but a little blood’s not always a bad thing. It can make your opponent cocky, confident that they have the upper hand.

A cute bit from an Isa/Tegan thing I've been chipping away at.

Isa doesn’t flinch when the cold water hits their back but they do punch me in the shoulder for it. “You promised me hot water, asshole.” The way their face scrunches up into a scowl is cute. Maybe I should tell them that one of these days but all I do is shrug. “Whoops.” And that earns me another punch, which is unfortunate because it's right in a bruise, freshly won from our sparring session. I resist the urge to rub it. “It takes a minute.” I pull them close to me, offering body heat by way of apology, and wrap my arms around their shoulders.

Aaand I'm fighting for my life with the next chapter of Ghosts (Ortega's POV)

My head is killing me. I’m no stranger to pain but the ice pack I’m pressing against the back of my head isn’t doing its job fast enough. Eyes closed tight agasint the light I can’t see shit besides darkness and little motes of red but I can hear Chen’s heavy footsteps against the kitchen tile. Quick, efficient footsteps, the Marshal with a job to do – which apparently involves babysitting me. How long had I been out before he found me? How bad have I looked lately that he needed to check in on me? The slam of a cabinet door makes me flinch. Damnit.

tagging @salem-wilde @dogueteeth @gingerbreton @meonlyred @ladyshivs @mortumslab @capricule @darkfire1177 @euelios and anyone else who would like to.

#tag game #fhr

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tinyolsen · 7 years

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happy wlw 🤓🏳‍🌈🎉

Isa, my dude. Thank you

https://open.spotify.com/user/1135094350/playlist/4JjlD2ZbB0haqRI6QKMTSo

I Found A Girl - The Vamps

LGBT - Lowell

She Likes Girls - Metro Station

Then We Kiss - Icona Pop

Suddenly I See - KT Tunstall

Gravel To The Tempo - Hayley Kiyoko

Girls/Girls/Boys - Panic! At The Disco

Girls - Beatrice Eli

Secrets - Mary Lambert

I Don’t Do Boys - Elektra

My Boots (Single version) - Lights

Strangers - Halsey, Lauren Jauregui

Girls Like Girls - Hayley Kiyoko

Lgbt - cupcake

Closer - Tegan and Sara

Heaven Is a Place on Earth - Belinda Carlisle

Oh Baby Doll (bonus track) - La Femme

Who We Are - Allison Weiss

One Call Away - Alyssa Shouse

She Keeps Me Warm - Mary Lambert

they aren't all explicitly wlw but they could be :)

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inkedmoth · 6 years

Photo

I think, it might be done! Also small because there’s spoilers aplenty.

Started on the 6th of December, and finished on the 6th of June there are approximately 426 characters, its split almost perfectly between male and female. It follows the ruling lines of four royal families; Aylmer’s (light green), Ryder’s (red), Gunvald’s (indigo), and Ibarra’s (pink), but also one Fae branch (dark green), and the Mason’s (purple). Despite how much I wanted to, I held off from going into detail of sibling partners and offspring, or else this would never be finished. I might cave in later and add a few, but I’m trying very hard not to.

The Gunvalds actually have another dozen generations beyond those shown here, as they’ve been ruling for about 1,000 years, but this section of the tree only shows 500, or from when the Ryders split off from them.

I’ve got little stories and ideas for almost each generation, so my next task will be going through them one by one and making notes on what those stories are. Along with that I need to go through and add a little symbol to indicate unnatural deaths, and I’m debating on adding things for family crests, but those aren’t as important.

More information below the cut.

The Aylmers (light green) are based in Farrowsorn, and unfortunately don’t get much screen time, as they’re basically all killed off before the story gets going! Distinguishing features are bright green eyes and red hair, one of their princesses married into the Ryder family, which meant the Ryders hair took on a distinct red copper shine. They are matriarchal always having queens, and their current queen (before death) is Mona, with her husband Dery, and their three children Aisling, Ailill, and Madoc, along with a few cousins.

The Ryders (red) are based in Kardoon, and as you know are the main royal family featured in the story. Distinguishing features are bright blue eyes and golden blond hair, although now they have more copper colouring from their Aylmer heritage. Originally patriarchal, they eventually switched to the first born ruling regardless of gender. The current ruler is Cadeyrn, married to Tegan, with their three children Boudicca, Ivan, and Charon.

The Gunvalds (indigo) are based in Ilithya, and are the second featuring royal family, they used to control most of North Naria, before the Ryders broke away and sparked a huge war. These days it calmed down and they’re buddies again. Distinguishing features are dark brown eyes, and dark brown hair. Originally patriarchal, they took a long time to switch to the first born ruling regardless of gender, and have a background rife with tyrannical rulers. The current ruler is Aurel, with his wife Valeria, and their three children Valko, Arabella, and Abbe.

The Ibarras (pink) are based in Kiala, and barely feature in the story, so I’ve not go much on them. What I do know is that their cities are beautiful works of art, with glass and towers, colour and light. Distinguishing features will probably be along the lines of black hair and maybe blue eyes. They have an odd tradition of alternating genders of their rulers, their current ruler is Savio, with his wife Remei, and their three children, Ida, Isa, and Rias.

The Masons (purple) are not rulers, but are traditionally the Royal Guards to the Ryders, this tradition has landed them a nice house and large reputation that can be difficult to live up to. Unlike the royal families, the Masons have dwindled down rapidly, resulting in only two living members, Aaron and Willow, with Aarons wife Lilac having been killed pre-story.

The Fae (dark green) are the current Fae rulers, they don’t currently have a surname, but the Faevin (high queen) is Áine. Due to the Fae’s poly nature, they frequently have large families with numerous partners and dozens of siblings and offspring, resulting in wide family trees. An interesting feature of the Fae is their rulers are always born with golden eyes, usually this poses no problem, but every few generations two siblings are born with golden eyes, resulting in friction. Áine’s younger sister Aylín, was born with golden eyes, fanning the flames of jealousy in Áine, contributing to Áine’s regicide for the throne.

I think that’s all for now?? I could go one about every generations drama, but I’m going to save that for later, and also there’d be spoilers and I want to avoid posting them just yet.

#alcazar saga #ryder #gunvald #aylmer #ibarra #fae #mason #rose arts #uuhhh idk anymore tags #oh wait #family tree

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mythalsknickers · 5 years

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TITLE: Vir'sul El'u Eolas RATING: Mature PAIRING: Fen’aslan x Solas (Sollavellan) TAGS: Post Corypheus, Post Trespasser DLC, Magical Amputation, Body Horror, Flashbacks, Liberal use of Magic, Liberal use of Elvhen, Magical Healing, Spirits are overpowered Link for AO3

This started out as a DADWC writing prompt, however, it quickly escalated into a full-fledged fic that demanded its own part of my canon universe. Reblogs, are always appreciated. As well as kudos and comments.

There was no pain; just a sudden nothing where her forearm should have been, and he was leaving. Walking away as if he hadn’t done that, as if it meant nothing to him.

As if she meant nothing to him.

Fen’aslan tried to stand up, stumbling forward in the numbness of system shock, crying out as her knees gave way and connected with the ancient stones that made up the broken, cobbled path. Panic seized her, keeping her from sobbing by stealing the breath she would have used as she realized she didn’t have the strength to keep herself upright let alone make it to the eluvian.

“Ma Vhenan!”

Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears, full of anguish and pain she didn’t yet feel. He paused, turning just barely towards her. “Don’t, Solas! Don’t leave me, ma vhenan!” she begged, standing up on legs that felt like withered branches, liable to snap at any given moment. Without thinking, she pulled on the fade with her right hand. It was only natural; their most tender moments, the moments of greatest intimacy, had been in the fade. The mist began to form around her as she took a single, shaky step forward. A breath later, she disappeared into the fade, hoping with her aching heart that it would work, that it would distract him just enough for her to catch him.

She strolled through the doors of the Exalted Council, her bare toes and heels soundless against the mirror-like tile, light robes swishing against her legs with a faint whisper, like the summer breeze through the grass. Her passage through the crowds was marked only by the quiet jingling of the six tiny leaves adorning her collar and the quiet hush she left in her wake. On the Dias, Arl Tegan and the Orlaisian continued their heated debate around the Divine in ignorance, unaware of how rudely they were about to be interrupted.

That thought almost made Fen’aslan smile, but the book in her hands kept her thoughts anchored on the moment.

“The Herald of Andraste,” a woman whispered, reaching out to touch her like she was their savior. She wasn’t, though, and before she could react, the man next to the woman snatched her hand back.

“It is a Rabbit, Woman!” he hissed through his teeth. “She was not sent by Blessed Andraste! More likely one of the demons her people worship.” He spat towards her as she passed him, but he may as well been invisible for all the attention she paid him.

As Fen’aslan became visible to her former advisors, she could see Josephine’s aggravation melt into relief and smugness radiate from the Divine’s smile. Her plan had been shared, then. Good, this would not surprise Leliana. The effects of her sudden appearance effectively pulled the two lords from their argument, just as she hoped it would. She wanted their undivided attention.

“You all know what this is!” She raised the book above her head as she took the final steps toward the Dias, her voice ringing out in the newborn silence the way her footsteps hadn’t. Defiantly, she faced the men who would put her organization under their sway, who were even now attempting to position themselves as Judge, Jury, and Executioner over the ones whose strength had revealed their shortcomings. As Inquisitor, it was Fen’aslan’s place to pass and enact justice, not theirs.

Behind her, the crowd waited with bated breath for her next words. No one spoke, not even the man who had spit at her, and not a single rustle of fine silks hinted that anyone was stirring. They were all either enthralled with her brazen declaration or - more likely - frozen by her audacity. It was time to find out. Exhaling, she spun on her heel to face them.

“This is a writ from Divine Justinia, authorizing the formation of the Inquisition.” The sea of silent faces, both masked and not masked, raised their eyes to the book clearly visible in her hands, and she flipped open the cover showing the distinctive ink of the blood-red eye staining the parchment. “We pledged to close the breach, to find those responsible, and to restore order - with or without approval.” She turned her head slightly towards Arl Tegan, catching Cassandra’s smirk and nod of approval.

The silence held; no one dared do anything but breathe, afraid to break the tension that drew every eye to her. Fen’aslan drew in another breath to steady herself, torn between the fluttering uncertainty in her belly and the wild exultation howling in her blood. Would he be proud of her in this moment, her love? She discarded the thought to continue with her plan.

“It was not a formalized treaty that saved Ferelden or her people,” she declared, turning to hurl the words directly at Arl Tegan. Oh, how smug he looked. “The Inquisition saved them when you could not. We will not disband for you.”

She could hear a squeak as the Arl sat back in his chair, too stunned for a moment to form words. His expression said it all for her - how dare she have the gall? She clenched her jaw, keeping her smile trapped behind her teeth. She was a wolf among the sheep who thought they could tame her. Stepping along the Dias with the sharp grace of a sword slicing through the air, she moved so she was directly in front of the masked Orlaisian.

“The Inquisition will not submit to an Empress who failed to end your inane civil war, and only keeps her throne because of Inquisition support!” It spoke volumes that Celene, Gaspard, and Briala had not attended these talks and instead, sent this Lord who was not important enough for her to remember his name. The Arl had presented more of a threat, but she was done with both of these sheep now.

The silence tore with the soft sound of gasps ripped from the throats of Orlaisian women. With that intangible protection broken, men put hands on their swords and yelled, their voices colliding in the air and forming a single incoherent jumble of sound. It did not matter; she knew every insult they threw at her, but they shattered against the armor of her indifference.

“This was never just an organization!” Fen’aslan declared when the volley of words ended. “It is about people doing what is necessary. We will continue to support you as we have done in the past.” Her eyes finally met Leliana’s as the Divine bowed her head in quiet approval. “There is worse coming than anything you’ve yet seen. We will not be rendered defenseless and riddled with the bureaucracy and the so-called politics of The Game. The Inquisitions will bow - but it will not be to either of you. Now excuse me.” Her tone turned the plea into a command of respect and authority, her robes once more whispering against her legs as she strolled away from the Dais “I need to save the world again.” She thrust the book towards Josephine, giving her little time to collect it as she passed. “I will see you at Skyhold.”

Like a wolf returning from a successful hunt, she prowled through the divided crowd, gliding through the room while gasps of outrage and protests lapped at her. How dare a blasphemous Rabbit and the supposed herald of Andraste voice such insolence to her betters! She ignored it all, chin high, unable to hide her smirk. It wouldn’t be more than a handful of breaths before the muttering erupted into a storm of shouting - but she would be gone before that happened. Throwing open the doors to the chamber, she grabbed her staff from a page and handed the boy a Caprice coin. Then, with the doors swinging shut, she smiled at the mutters rising into furious protests. A muffled boom behind her was the doors closing, silencing the storm as it broke.

As she materialized out of the fade, she could see the eluvian starting to darken and she quickly pushed herself through. How dare he try to shut her out again! Once she’d stumbled forward into the crossroads, however, she couldn’t see him.

“Solas! Tel’tuaun min ea el’u i em!” She could see the mirror closing behind her as she moved away from it, and for a split second, she wanted to jump through – but she continued, away from home, away from a guaranteed future. “Lasa em’an dirth ma’lath,” she begged. They needed to talk. Each mirror she passed, she sketched and made a note of it in relation to her path. “Ma tel’isala dina sul min! Tamahn emen to ea vir!” She cried out to the emptiness, but there was no answer and she sank down to the ground, her eyes slipping closed. “Fen’aslan ma ane a felasil Fen’harel.” Tears staining her cheeks, her body beginning to shake as she curled forward, she sobbed. He had left her again.

“Ma ane las, Da’lan.”

She opened her bleary eyes at the unfamiliar voice, noting the vallaslin on an equally unfamiliar face. It was her own – Fen’harel’s eyes was what her clan named it. “Ma ane isa ghi’la,” the elvhen asserted, crouching down. “Ar ame Rashale. Las, ma ane naim; ar juhalani ma vena mar sal.” He offered his hand and she took it, standing with his help and letting him lead her over to a mirror. “Fen’harel Enasanal,” he spoke. The mirror sprang to life, and he pulled her through it.

“Rashale?” she glanced at him, and he turned back. “Do you understand me?” She asked in the common language. At his nod, she continued. “Can you speak like this?” Again he nodded, and her shoulders relaxed. “Where are we?”

“The ones who raise you call it the Tirashan,” he replied as he led her into the temple. “This was where Mythal sent you to protect you from the Veil going up.” He watched her as she ran her over the wards on the temple walls, tracing their shapes. As soon as she removed her hand, energy pulsed through them. “Temple of the Hoping Moon,” he offered as he guided her deeper into the temple. Statues of two wolves appeared everywhere.

It had been a week since she went into the Eluvian after Solas, a week since Rashale had found her and took her to this temple. If Rashale was to be believed, it had apparently been created for her. She wasn’t sure she believed any of what he’d told her, honestly. He claimed that she was as old as Solas - or rather, her soul was, and she had been put into uthenera sometime during the slave rebellion. She frowned as she wandered the moss- and vine-covered floors, letting her bare feet pick their own path while she mulled over this information.

As she walked, she reached out with her remaining hand, touching the faded mosaic wall absently. Ambient magic pulsed through the tiles as her fingers ghosted over them, strands of vivid green arcing along certain tiles, lighting them up. That caught her attention and she stared at the wall, walking back a few steps to see the design.

It was the dread wolf.

The green magic changed; this time, it was purple, and she watched as a dragon took shape. Her lips parted as the color changed to a pale silver to make the last image in the mosaic: a moon's glow lighting up a white wolf ahead of the dread wolf.

“I wondered, Las, how long it would take you to find this.”

Looking around, she couldn’t see anyone, but the voice almost sounded like-

Her eyes locked with the dragon. “Mythal?”

She watched in awe as the dragon turned its mosaic head to her. “Well done, young one. You have come a long way since we last met.”

Her brow furrowed; the sentinels had told her Mythal was dead.

“I am a fragment, placed here once you were ready for everything. I am dead, child. We both know I can not help your wolf on his path.”

She drifted forward a few steps until she could reach out and touch the moon. “I am supposed to be his guide,” she whispered before looking at the dragon. “How, though? I am not even sure any of this happened.” Exasperated, she rubbed her hand over her face.

“How did the wolf claim to known things? That path is open to you...and it is time you learn to hunt.”

An orange glow began to appear along the dragon’s throat. As it opened its mouth, mosaic flames shot out but left the wall to smash into her chest, making her scream. The dragon closed its mouth as she pulled her hand back to touch her robe-covered chest, but there was no burn. The sudden sensation that she had swallowed the fire made her drop to the ground, gasping, trying to breathe past the phantom flames in her throat.

“Child, I have nudged history and shoved it. You are being melodramatic. Take what is yours; you are Elvhen, and kin, and would be gods just like your wolf; act like it!”

At the words, a fit of burning anger formed in her stomach and for the first time since the loss of her forearm, she reached out with her left hand. Ignoring that her hand wasn’t there, she attempted to pull the fade. Magic began to course around her, creeping along what was left of her arm after her forearm had been disintegrated, sickly green magic of the fade beginning to burst through the scars and drawing a scream from her throat. Her knees threatened to buckle from the sudden influx of pain in her arm and tears streamed freely from her eyes, her skin starting to tingle as the veil strained against her crude pulling. The sickly green magic traveled up her arm, skin smoking in its wake as the scars ripped open, the wounds cauterized before even a single drop of blood could drip onto the stone floor. Blindly, she staggered forward, away from the mosaic, feeling draconic eyes watching her with interest.

Clenching her jaw, she reached out with her missing hand, her weak legs causing her to sway dangerously. The anchor spread further with each faltering step she took. As she pulled on the fade, she could feel it begin to tremble around her. Her eyes went to her vestigial arm, which was beginning to ooze green fade-magic, and a hollow laugh burst out of her. This not-even-formed plan of hers was working? It was hard to believe, but the smoking grew worse with each tremor of the fade as more and more of the ooze came bleeding out.

The fade trembled and quaked under her assault, and the anchor began to spread past her arm. Each inch it crawled - sometimes leaped - over her skin, she could feel it trying to claw her apart. A scream tore from her throat but it echoed off the stone oddly, the sound warping until to her ears, it sounded like a howl. Hunching forward, she continued to stagger down the hallway, her nose filled with the smell of burning flesh. The fade was bleeding into the temple; she stared at a distant image of Solas removing his vallaslin from her face and her right hand tightened into an angry fist. She had been blind, so blind, so many signs that he had been hiding something and she hadn’t seen them.

She tore her eyes away from the memory, her heart aching because, despite everything, she still loved him. “Ma vhenan.” she whispered, her voice rough.

Something deeper in the temple called to her, and she struggled to continue her journey towards it. Bit by bit, the oozing, burning, green magic of the fade was forming the shape of her missing forearm. Her foot hooked a branch as she approached a door frame and sent her stumbling forward, her right hand catching one side of the frame as her shoulder slammed into the ancient stone of the other side. Leaning against it, she tried desperately to slow her frantic breathing. Each pull, each spasm of the fade left her feeling emptier than the last, and the pain still tore at the fabric of her very being.

As she stared at the remnants of her forearm, she pushed off the door frame and staggered into the room. In the center was a massive statue of two wolves nestled together. The shock of seeing what could only be her and Solas made her legs give out, her next pull on the fade purely reflexive as her knees collided with the overgrown tiles. He had to know what was happening, had to know what she was doing. If he didn’t, he either was not even looking at the fade or...well, she couldn’t think past the pain to figure out an ‘or’. Fen’aslan half expected his footsteps to echo towards her down the hallway she’d followed, and she could almost hear him calling her name. Tears trailed down her cheeks, and she closed her eyes.

It was nightfall when she opened her eyes again, one of them the sickly green of the fade. There had been no rest, no dreams for her. Breathing heavily, she stood up, her copper hair torn loose from its braid, and reached out with her left arm. There were still many missing pieces, and with soft exhale she attempted again to pull the fade, to tear the veil. She would have her arm back. Sweat dripped down from her forehead as she strained, splattering onto the tile. Another piece slipped through the fade, but there was not enough time to pull the rest of her arm through before something reached out and slammed into her.

Fen’aslan went flying backward, her head cracking against the wall as she hit it and crumpled to the floor. It felt like an eternity before she was aware of a groan slipping past her lips. Again she opened her eyes, but this time her green eye was met with a blue eye. The burning, clawing heat of the mosaic warred with the creeping chill of the glyphs as she climbed to her feet and realized she’d come face to face with herself.

A mirror.

“Inquisitor, you promised a price.”

Her eyes widened. The glyphs tightened on her face, attempting to spread to the left side. Another scream tore from her throat as the two ancient magics warred over her. The anchor pulsed angrily, and the only warning of it attempting open was the distinctively sickening popping noise. Her knees almost gave out again, every bit of her body aching and burning, leaving the fade scarred and bleeding even more heavily into the temple. It had already saturated the room, she realized as she looked up. There was no ceiling anymore, just the twin silver moons.

“Give in, Fen’aslan. This is our destiny: to serve the well. Fen’harel’s magic will kill us.”

Her mirror self spoke in a mocking voice, attempting to soothe her. Her reflection’s left hand was missing and her face was filled with unending sorrow and anguish, branded with the glyphs of the Well. Fen’aslan forced herself to keep her feet as she stepped away from the wall, her breathing heavy and ragged. Anger burned brighter than a star as the anchor flared along her left side, tearing into her further. Lighting, manifestations of her anger and pain, struck around the mirror.

“No,” she growled, her body shaking with her fury, and something began to change. The anchor had once been Fen’harel’s, but now she was making it was hers. It had been hers to claim all along. Slowly, at the tips of her sickly green fingers, silver magic began to emerge, spreading and clawing for each inch as it crept up her arm. The anchor fought back with violent pulses of magic that further assaulted the fade and clawed at her.

“Accept it, Inquisitor, and stop fighting. You will always be what you are now. Come home.”

She stared at the mirror, her heart hammering in her chest. Something in that phase had caused panic to seize her. Her left hand clenched into a fist as silver magic continued to bleed up her arm. Reaching out, she raised both her hands, attempting to pull the ceiling down on her mirror, only to stare in horrified when nothing happened; the mirror still stood in front of her and the ceiling remained intact.

“I told you, Inquisitor, you need to stop fighting this. You will never survive.” The image of herself in the mirror laughed. A wave appeared behind it, and the realization hit her: the woman in the Well had been her. Then the wave surged forward, smashing into her and tossing her back into the wall.

“I..I will never surrender…” As she struggled to stand up, ice spread from her feet, slowly creeping forward and freezing what it touched. Another wave smashed into her, trying to slide her back into the wall, but the ice held and her jaw tightened. Silver magic began to arc and hiss as it slowly overtook the green fade energy, bit by bit. It mended the skin that had torn, pulling her flesh together and quenching the burning pain. Slowly the green bled from her opaline eye, leaving only blue. She turned her gaze to the ceiling and pulled on it; the rubble tumbled down in a distraction as she began to walk towards the mirror, her legs trembling with each step. “I am no one’s slave. I paid the price of the well, now yield to me!” She commanded, throwing all of her strength into it. Every fiber of her body begged her to relent, to surrender to exhaustion.

The mirror shook violently as lightning began to arc between them. “We will not be commanded by a girl so foolish that she took what was not hers twice and would not pay the price!” Another wave began to raise up. “You will relent; in the end, they all do. Become what you are, child. It will not hurt, and you can rest.” The soothing mocking was back, each word casting a grapple of fade energy to entangle Fen’aslan.

This time, her anger was more precise, the lightning arcing around the mirror to entrap it. Each breath was focused on the glyphs, and her vision went black for a moment before she spoke.

“You dare command me?” Her voice was different to her ears; something had changed. The howl of a wolf echoed from somewhere as the two statues stepped off their base and began circling the mirror. “I am one Mythal calls kin. You will yield and become mine!”

Her magic lashed out towards the mirror as her skin began to ache and burn from the grapple she had been tangled in. Turning her eyes away from the mirror, she raised her now-silver magical hand toward the grapple, letting one finger claw at the grapple until it released her. The glyphs on her face began to change, silver magical energy coursing through them, turning both her eyes into pools of moonlight as another howl echoed through the room. Lightning flashed, the stone wolves growling before launching at the mirror. They savaged it with fang and claw and soon, silver magic began to ooze from it as it bled back to her. The Vir’abelsan had become hers; the mirror dissolved, and she could feel the voices fade from her mind.

Her knees buckled as exhaustion overtook her, silver eyes fading back into their normal, opaline mauve. The statues of the wolves were back on the base, nestled together as they had been, and as she kneeled there on the ground, Fen’aslan began laughing. Another voice joined her in laughing as the careful steps of armored boots approached, and when she looked up, there was Mythal.

“Well done, girl.” The woman’s amber eyes truly did seem pleased with her. “Now you can learn how to help him.” Mythal nodded, her lips curved into a slight smile. “Help him before he can no longer be helped, daughter.”

The warning chilled her. The goddess disappeared, the fade becoming less saturated in the room with each passing moment, and Fen’aslan staggered up onto her feet. She stared at her new arm admiring, magical energy substituting for the flesh that had been lost. Then a yawn distracted her, and she rubbed her eyes. Her body was exhausted and she could feel her stomach beginning to rumble and cramp with an increasingly-desperate need to find food. She needed to find Rashale. How long had she been in the fade?

As she hobbled out of the room, she noticed that the temple seemed to be repaired: the overgrowth was gone, the walls clean, the floors smooth with no ragged edges to catch her feet. She paused as she passed the mosaic and noticed the dragon’s absence. Was…it just a dream, she wondered? A glance at her left hand dispelled that; it was neither flesh nor missing, but a construct of her magic. It couldn’t have been a dream. Frowning, Fen’aslan limped gingerly out of the hallway and into the main thoroughfare of the temple.

“Las!” she jolted alert, her magic suddenly flaring to life at the sound of her name. Rashale seemed to appear out of nowhere, jogging up to her. “Thank Mythal I have found you.” His brows raised as he noticed her left hand, and he bowed. “My lady, pardon me. I was merely worried for you; you have been gone from the temple for a week,” he said, his voice formal and respectful.

“A week. I thought…” she whispered. She thought it had been less. Gone from the temple…Had she physically gone into the fade again? “Rashale, please. I am not a lady, and there is nothing to pardon.”

He shook his head firmly at her in disagreement. “You are a lady; your spirit has changed. You have found yourself, my lady.” It was his only explanation and while it was not enough for her, she was too hungry and too tired to worry about it for now. She yawned, swaying on her feet.

“My lady? Do you need refreshments?”

She stared at Rashale, blinking for a moment before his words finally made sense. Yawning again, she nodded. He offered his arm and, reluctantly, she took it and let him lead her to the kitchens.

The kitchens were rather large for the small temple. Carefully, Fen’aslan made her way around with a plate, gathering bits of fruits, jerkies and candied meats, hardened cheeses, and an glass of some kind of drink that smelled a bit like the wine Solas had introduced her to in Orlais. Lacking any sort of table or chair, she climbed up onto the counter where she perched with her plate of snacks, eating her fill and quenching her thirst. After her meal, she quietly made her way to her room.

Once the doors had shut behind her she looked around, closing her eye and trying to prepare herself. “Two weeks since I have dreamed…” she whispered to herself, wrapping her arms around her torso and squeezing in attempts to reassure herself. She made her tired way over to the bed and lay down, curling under the blankets, slowly letting herself drift off into the fade.

“Vhenan.” The word summoned her, and she found herself face to face with him. “Where are you?”

She stood up, and the images around them changed. He was trying to find her. “Where are you, vhenan?” she countered, shifting the fade on her own. “I will find you, vhenan. I told you I would not give up.” Around her, the fade stilled. Arlathan.

“I know you will not, Vhenan…” he seemed reluctant, looking around. “Allow me to show you these before we do not have time?”

She nodded, offering her hand. "Em ghi’lana,” she offered gently as he took her it, squeezing it gently. He lead her through the glass spires of the city and she watched the reflections, seeing multiple images of her and Solas. “In another time…” she smiled fondly; in another time, they had walked these streets just like this.

“Yes, Vhenan,” he added, turning and taking her- left hand? Her brows furrowed. “This is the fade,” he whispered. She realized they were in a grand ballroom just as Solas pressed close to her and began to dance. As they moved over the glass tiles, the room filled with people. “The Evanuris held such parties often. This was the night,” he started before spinning her. “The night everything I cared for was taken from me.” He growled, and the music took a deadly twist as she watched Mythal crumble to the floor. The young dreadwolf stared in horror at his kin, letting go of her. She recognized the figure in his arms. She tried to watch what happened to herself, but the scene focused on Solas lashing out at Elgar’nan.

“Wake up, Vhenan.” He leaned forward sadly and kissed her cheek. As her eyes opened, she sighed looking at the walls.

So it had begun.

Elvhen Translations

•Vir'sul el'u eolas (way to have secret knowledge) •Solas Tel’tuaun min ea el’u i em! (Solas don’t cause this to be a secret with me) •lasa em’an dirth ma’lath. (Let’s talk about it my love) •Ma tel’isala dina sul min! Tamahn emen to ea vir! (You dont need to die for this! There has to be another way!) •Fen’aslan ma ane a felasil Fen’harel. (You are a fool to chase Fen’harel) •Ma ane las. Da’lan. (You are hope. Young one) •Ma ane isa ghi’la. (You are his guide) •Ar ame Rashale. Las ma ane naim, ar juhalani ma vena mar sal. (I am Rashale. Hope you are lost, I will help you find your soul.) •em ghilana (guide me/ show me) •Vhenan (heart)

#Evuniala x Solas #Solas x Lavellan #sollavellan hell #Post Trespasser #tw: body horror #TW: amputation mention #Magical fix it #over use of elvhen #Orignal Sentinel character #Mythalsknickers writes #my fanfiction #Ma Ghi'lan Ma Nas Ma Las Universe #Reblogs welcome

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