#Dad Zevran

[circtheeunbroken]

he's beauty he's grace (he's plotting tax evasion, according to my best friend)

[emryx]

Silly little doodle idea I got at 5 AM. Those Antivan genes are strong man

(Rin belongs to @/ necromosss!)

[chimeowrical]

The ugly sweaters are a FAMILY AFFAIR now

[maiwong1]

I just wanna dilf!zevran ok??dad!zevran I wanna see

[bunbunsama]

Zev & Sili having a silent bet on who their daughter is going to end up with cause they know the signs - they’ve been the signs - & nothing brings a meant to be couple like saving the world.

Zevran bets on good’ole Antivan charm. Worked on Sili, though she disagrees, & the mysterious air of an assassin, especially such a notorious one, is far too alluring. Plus, he knows that Nasi, like her mother, is fond of spirits so hes confident that it’s a bonus, not a turn off. He sees how Nasi & Lucanis are, how she always has the same aura of comfort, of pure sunlight, when she talks to him. He sees his daughter soften, how she makes every move deliberate & hard to miss as to not startle the Dellamorte. Zevran knows what that’s like, knows how it crumbles the defenses, & it shows in how Lucanis seems to, maybe unknowingly, watch Nasi somewhat protectively, eyeing danger before it can even think to come at her.

Sili bets on Warden heroism & reunited childhood friends. Nasi was raised by Grey Wardens, learned to fight with Grey Wardens, & laughed with Grey Wardens. The Grey Wardens are her family, by blood & blight, & there’s a distinct charm about them. Davrin knows her like the back of his hand, knows just to challenge & grow with her; reminds her to touch grass & to breath. Davrin laughs as he notices that Nasi still had the same blind spot, notices because he’s already there, shield up to protect her. He pokes fun at her by calling her out when something goes missing, when she’s lurking in the shadows of the Fade & he isn’t a mage but he knows her tricks like the back of his hand. Sili is confident that if Nasi is like her, the Grey Warden will come first.

They both miss that she is a lot like her mother in that it’s the academic that gets her attention first - Emmrich Volkarin. The man who’s out together at every moment shared with Nasi, professional or otherwise; who is able to worm out of her a more inquisitive & academic side as they discuss the intricacies of spirit augmented magical abilities which both are keenly aware of. He charms her in a way that is polite & quiet, the soft touch reciprocated as he guides her with a hand on the small of her back as they traverse Arlathan, or when he offers her a hand every time she stops to loot a chest or body. The parents miss how animated he becomes when Nasi & him talk, how easy conversation comes to them & how her smile beams as they converse.

The mage academic ruins the bet & when Zevran tells Bel, the Inquisitor & Nas’revas’ bio dad, about it the man laughs so loud it’s a wonder Morrigan can keep him hidden. He brushes tears from his eyes as he smiles back at his ex-wife’s paramour and simply says, “That’s how I won Sil’lean’s heart when we were young in Kinloch Hold. I was the academic & she the young girl who’d seen the world.”

[a-drama-addict]

^ literally Vittoria Aeducan Arainai. she can do whatever the fuck she wants

[makerscockandballs]

"no mage I know has ever dared to fall in love" anders my sweet boy did you forget about Surana/Amell this quickly? smh

[certifiedbundleofsticks]

I wish veilguard had made city elves and dalish elves separate like in origins because ser. ser. rook. please. you're not supposed to know that. you didn't— no— bellara please stop he's not—

[heniareth]

ZevWarden Week 2023

Day 1: Traditions and Trying New Things

The Naming Day

Wordcount: 3,469 | Rating: General audiences

Zevran and Astala Tabris have adopted three Antivan kids; two of them are former Crow recruits. None of them have ever celebrated their Naming Day.

(Read below or here on AO3)

The day he had arrived at Vigil’s Keep with the three Antivan kids had been a cold and rainy day in the middle of Drakonis. Carlo had been asleep and wouldn’t let himself be woken up. Virel and Perinella had also been exhausted. Their flight from Antiva and from the Crows had taken a lot out of them, and they had gone straight to bed after they’d gotten some food. Zevran was happy to see them safe, happy to know them well-cared for, and sad to have to leave the next day. His safehouse back in Antiva seemed cold and empty when he re-entered it and none of the three children were there. Updates from the Vigil became the highlight of the week; apparently the keep’s humble appointments had been a source of disappointment especially for Perinella—and she was right, for Fereldan nobility had nothing against even the Antivan merchants—and the children treated their new surroundings with the utmost suspicion. Smart, Zevran had thought. But at the same time, he wished they would soon realize they were safe there. Safe like he had been. Astala told him about how the children, sticking together, the only Antivans in a large, unknown fortress, had explored the grounds bit by bit. They had grown bolder as the days passed. Zevran fondly remembered opening a letter from his Warden and discovering in it a rather rattled account of how the children had discovered the kitchens and stolen fifteen of her beloved plum-filled pastries.

Of course, there had been setbacks. Virel still hardly initiated conversations with strangers. Carlo had taken to breaking things to get hugs after having been comforted over accidentally spilling the contents of an inkwell. And Perinella had broken into Anders’ collection of manuals on blood magic more than once. Fortunately, Velanna had been able to prevent any demonic possession of the girl. For now. But Zevran couldn’t quite bring himself to fault any of them for their behavior. The streets of Antiva had not been kind to Carlo, and Virel and Perinella had been left to fend for themselves under the Crows after their own parents had sold them. Really, given the circumstances, they were doing very well.

Zevran only hoped that today would not be another setback or give Perinella the wrong ideas. It was her naming day, after all.

Zevran quietly observed how Perinella, paper in hand, Virel in tow, and a big stack of gifts still in their wrapping balancing in her arms slowly made her way up the narrow steps to the rookery. Maybe it had been a mistake to leave this gift as one of the last. Where would she set down the rest? The air around Perinella was shifting ever so slightly, which tended to happen when she let her otherwise meticulous control over her magic slip. This could be very good, or it could be very bad. Zevran suppressed the urge to shift anxiously in his space. It would be better if neither of them was made aware of his presence. Otherwise, Virel would start to scowl again. The boy still did not trust him, former Crows that he was.

If only he could get some kind of clue as to whether this had been a good idea.

-

The children had no actual naming day. Astala had discovered this over dinner one day when she had asked for it and had only received blank stares and confused looks in return. Zevran had jumped in to the rescue; the Crows, after all, were not ones to celebrate an individual’s continued survival, and neither were the streets of Antiva. Astala had turned to him, confused.

“So you don’t know when you were named either? I thought you told me your naming day was on the 7th of Bloomingtide!”

“And so it is! Technically,” Zevran had answered. “There were far too many children at the whorehouse to keep track of, so there was one day where all of us would celebrate our naming day. Everyone got their due without too much hassle.”

Astala made a face to herself that indicated just how unimpressed she was by this. Then she mercifully turned to the children.

“And you gotta have a naming day, because you have a name,” she said. “You don’t remember it at all?”

Perinella, normally the most forward, had said nothing and only glanced at her brother. Virel had silently poked his dinner. Carlo had looked around the table, and then had carefully set his spoon down.

“What is this?” he had signed.

“A naming day?” Once Carlo had confirmed this was what he was asking, Astala had sat back and contemplated the question. “A naming day is the day you were named, normally a year and a day after you are born. Every year on that day, there's a small celebration to conmemorate the fact that you're alive. You usually receive some gifts from friends and family-"

At that, Perinella had perked up.

"-and people wish you well for the coming year of your life," Astala had concluded. "I have a naming day, my cousins Soris and Shianni have one, even my Da has one. So, if you don't know yours: would you like one?"

Carlo had indeed wanted one. Tomorrow, had been his first idea. Once Astala had explained that it would make for a very poor and underprepared naming day indeed, he had settled on the 8th of Cloudreach, with the reasoning that Cloudreach sounded nice and 8 was his favorite number. Astala had called it good. Perinella had dithered to and fro, and glanced intermittently at Virel, who was still staring at his stew like it had personally offended him—and this even though Astala had managed to find a decent cook even by Antivan standards. Finally, Perinella had decided to take Astala up on the offer as well and had settled on the date of their arrival at Vigil's Keep. Zevran had a strong feeling that this choice was less of a celebration of their arrival in Antiva and more because the date was an easy option. Virel had only stoically shaken his head when asked.

-

One exact year after their arrival at Vigil's Keep, Zevran was hiding and observing the rookery into which Perinella and Virel had disappeared.

For a long while, there was nothing. Zevran was starting to get nervous.

It had been his idea to turn the giving of gifts into a treasure hunt of sorts. None of the- their three children liked the attention of crowds, and to assemble every well-wisher and gift-giver in one room to assault them seemed like the perfect way to make them hate the whole idea. But sneaking and exploring? They liked it. They were good at it. They did it often. And so Zevran had suggested everybody hide their gifts together with a clue to the next hiding spot. They would have liked to try it out on Carlo first, easily enthused and more easy to read than the older two; alas, Cloudreach came right after Drakonis. It should go over well enough with Perinella—she was an inquisitive sort—if she found all her gifts. And if the gifts were to her liking. And if she understood that they were, in fact, gifts, intended for her to keep with no strings attached. Ah, the Crows had a way of ruining everything good for oneself. But Velanna’s gift, which was the one hidden in the rookery, should really-

There was a flash of light, and a small squeak. Zevran jumped up, ready to run towards the rookery should his help be needed, but everything was quiet now. Should he barge in? Virel and Perinella did not trust him. But what if they needed help? Braska, he had to do something. Zevran whirled around, intent on taking the steps down to the corridor leading to the rookery two or three at a time, and promptly bumped into another small person.

“Surprised!” he signed once he recognized the boy. “Bravo.”

Carlo grinned widely. He had evidently snuck up on him on purpose.

“Is everything ready?” Zevran asked, now whispering.

Carlo nodded, long bangs flying all over his face. He still hadn’t allowed Astala to give him a haircut.

“Very good,” Zevran said and tousled Carlo’s hair further.

The boy giggled.

“Could we change our plan?” Zevran asked with a glance towards the rookery. “I would like to ask for a favor. You may say no.”

Carlo frowned, evidently not happy with the question. But he also tilted his head to the side in an unspoken question.

“Instead of waiting for Virel and Perinella to come down, could you go to them now?” Zevran elaborated. “There was a flash and a sound. I would like you to see if they are alright, if you could.”

Carlo pointed over at the rookery.

“Yes,” Zevran nodded. “They are in there.”

Carlo made the sign for danger.

“I do not think you will be in danger, no,” Zevran said immediately. And then he thought, why was he asking the kid to check on Virel and Perinella anyways?

Before he could develop that thought further, Carlo shook his head and made the sign of danger again, then signed Virel’s name, then Perinella’s.

“They…” Zevran hesitated. “No. No, I do not think they are in danger.”

Because what dangers could await them in the rookery of Vigil’s Keep, of all places? Perinella's magic had been a bit out of control already, and now that he thought of it, the squeal had sounded more excited than anything. Ah, nagale! He was making a fool of himself again.

“I- Look, maybe there is no need to go after all,” Zevran said. “So you-”

But Carlo was starting to look frustrated as he signed ‘danger’ again, then Virel’s name, then Perinella’s. Zevran frowned. What was the boy trying to tell him?

“I… do not think they will search for trouble either,” he tried.

Carlo shook his head again, big eyes pleading Zevran to understand.

“They… are a danger?” Zevran guessed.

Again, Carlo shook his head.

“I am very sorry,” Zevran said and suppressed a small sigh. “I do not understand.”

Carlo repeated his signs, now looking truly distressed.

“Carlo, mijo, please.” Zevran knelt so he was eye to eye with Carlo. “I do not understand, but I no longer think there is a need to check on Virel and Perinella. What if we stick to the original plan, hm? Would that be better?”

Carlo repeated his signs.

“Alright,” Zevran said. “What are you telling me? Are you saying something is happening?”

Carlo shook his head.

Zevran tried again. “Are you asking me a question?”

There, finally, Carlo nodded.

“Ah, very well,” Zevran said. “And you are not asking-”

The door to the rookery flew open. Perinella marched out, her stack of gifts grown by one and wobbling precariously. Virel followed. They seemed no worse for wear than when they entered. Carlo's head snapped around, wide eyes landing on them. He urgently tugged on Zevran’s sleeve, and this time Zevran understood without issue. They ran off, to the small dining room where the five of them took their meals, where Astala was already waiting.

-

They arrived out of breath, but Perinella was nowhere to be seen. Astala set aside her work immediately and heaved herself up with the help of her cane.

“What happened?”

“Nothing of note,” Zevran was quick to assure her. “Carlo and I missed out cue, that is all.”

Carlo pulled out three more packages from behind the cupboard and laid them on the table. Zevran recognized his gift for Perinella among them. Then he pulled on Astala’s sleeve and started signing, the same signs he had said to Zevran.

“Carlo has a question,” Zevran tried to help.

“A question?” Astala sat back down. “What are you asking? If Virel and Perinella are in danger?”

Carlo shook his head, then pointed at himself and gave a big shrug.

“You don’t know?” Astala said. “What don’t you know?”

Carlo signed ‘Virel’, ‘Perinella’, ‘danger’, and then pointed at himself.

“You? When Virel and Perinella are in danger?” Astala asked.

Carlo nodded emphatically and pointed at himself again.

“What you can do?” Astala said.

Carlo nodded so enthusiastically that his whole body folded at the waist under the motion, and Zevran wanted to clap his hand against his forehead. Of course.

“Well,” Astala answered very seriously, “I think the best thing you can do is get help. From me or Zevran, or from any other adult around. We don’t want you to get hurt, after all.”

Carlo nodded firmly.

“Are Virel and Perinella in danger now?” Astala asked.

Carlo shook his head, then shrugged, then looked at Zevran.

“There was a flash and a noise,” Zevran said. “I forgot it sometimes happens with Perinella and I... may have let my worry carry me away.”

“Oh. Alright. That reminds me,” Astala continued, addressing them both and clasping her hands together, “how did it go? Did she find everything? Did they see you?”

Carlo proudly shook his head, and Zevran added: “I think Perinella did find everything. They have sharp eyes, but after discovering the first gifts, those eyes were very much consumed with their search."

"Good. Good." Astala turned to the decked-out table and tucked a flower deeper into the vase standing in front of Perinella's plate. "D'you think she'll like them?"

She looked at Carlo. Carlo gave a cheerful nod and then scrambled off to inspect the plates laden with food closer. Astala turned to Zevran with the same questioning glance.

"I think she will like them," Zevran said. "They are big, and colorful, and look expensive. She loves those things."

"She does." Astala smiled and turned to him. "And you think she liked the whole affair?"

"So many questions," Zevran said and laughed. "Are you worried, my Warden?"

"They're reasonable!" Astala protested before her single-minded focus returned. "So, did Perinella like it?"

"Ah, I was a far-away observer, amore," Zevran teased her. "Why do we not wait until she arrives to see?"

Astala scoffed. "I've been in here the whole time, Zevran! Just tell me!"

"Why so impatient, my Warden?" Zevran said and laughed. "Such a mother hen you are at times."

"It's her first naming day," Astala said miserably. Her eyes turned big and round. "Please, Zevran? Just give me a hint."

Ah. He wanted to continue the ruse. It was far too satisfying after his own worrying and rumiating. But those big, pleading eyes...

Loud, labored steps up the stairs saved him from squirming any further. Zevran opened the door. Perinella, hidden behind her stack of gifts, still with Virel in tow, was making her way up the stairs almost blind.

"Ah, donna Perinella," Zevran dramatically declared and took one step towards her. "May I help you with that?"

Something between a huff and a giggle came out from behind the stack of packages. "No!"

"As you wish." Zevran bowed just as dramatically and then smoothly stepped back and away from the door entirely as she sailed into the room.

Perinella marched across the room and sat her heap of gifts down on the bench that ran along the wall. Then, very carefully, she sat a fat envelope on top of it. Those had to be the well-wishes. She had collected them.

"Was it fun?" Astala asked.

Perinella nodded and replied in careful Fereldan: "I founded everything."

"I'm glad to hear it," Astala said with a wide smile. "It would be such a shame if you missed any of them."

"I do believe, however," Zevran said, "that there are more gifts to hand out."

And he pulled his packed gift out from behind his back.

Carlo, however, was faster. He all but shoved his gift into Perinella's hands and waited impatiently for her to open it. The dragon, princess and knight puppets he had chosen for her—with Astala's help—were met with shining eyes. Especially the princesses’ fine gown drew her attention. Virel was next. He very seriously handed Perinella his gift, a belt made to hold several potion vials. It was received just as seriously; one more attempt from an older brother to keep his little sister safe.

And then it was his turn. Zevran stepped forward and handed Perinella his gift. As she was opening it, he stepped backwards, keeping himself further than an arm's length away and watching the paper rather than Perinella. She carefully peeled the wrapping off and pulled out a fine cloak.

It was a Fereldan cloak, but it had been retrofitted and altered to bear stitching local to Antiva. They were beautiful, colorful, and they looked expensive. Rich wreaths climbed up the seams, small stars climbed up the backside. The inside of the cloak was lined with pelt. A clasp in the style of an Antivan sun held it close. Zevran held his breath. Perinella shook it out and held it up, face serious, but her eyes had widened. And it didn’t look like fear or anything of the sort.

"Your own coat looked so sad," Zevran said quietly, repeating the words he had often heard from her. "I hope this one will keep you warm and also make you feel like a lady of high standing."

Perinella looked at the cloak and said nothing.

“Would you like to try it on?” Astala asked gently.

At a nod from Perinella, Astala asked for the cloak so she could swing it over her shoulder. Perinella turned this way and that, tugged the cape closer and ran her hand along the fine pelt on the inside. Then she left the room after asking if she might look at herself in a mirror. Astala was quick to answer, of course she could! Zevran noticed Virel’s gaze resting on him; heavy, as always, and scrutinizing.

Perinella returned, and a complicated expression lay on her face. She immediately went to Zevran.

“La ringrazio,” she said.

Zevran couldn’t help the shiver running down his spine at the expression.

“Now, now,” he said, attempting a joke. “Am I an old man that you must speak so formally with me?”

Perinella frowned slightly, and Zevran decided then and there it was best to drop the matter.

“Ah, don’t mind me,” he said with a small smile. “You are doing well. Di niente, Perinella. Ti voglio bene.”

Something fluttered across Perinella’s expression, there and gone. Then she stepped back and Zevran forced his treacherous mind to put the matter to rest.

Astala’s gift came last. Perinella pulled it out of the wrapping and held it in her hands, confused; it was an old stuffed mabari, recently cleaned and mended.

“This,” Astala said, “was mine when I was little. I gave it to my cousin Shianni when I didn’t need it anymore. Shianni now let me give it to you. His name is Fen, but you can give him a different name if you want to. He’s a very, very good sleeping companion.”

Perinella slowly folded her arms around the stuffed mabari and held him to her chest.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Nella,” Astala said with a big smile and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m happy you like it.”

-

They ate, drank, and Perinella finally allowed them to help her ferry the rest of the gifts into the rooms she shared with Carlo and Virel. The night grew late, but even so Astala checked in one last time with the children before going to sleep. Zevran waited for her in the hallway. Outside, the rain pattered against the windows.

He almost didn’t hear Astala’s quiet call for him. He only approached carefully; the children didn’t trust him. He would rather spare them the scare of seeing him peek into their room while they were supposedly sleeping. When he saw what Astala had called him over for, however, he was glad to have looked.

Perinella was lying in her bed, asleep. In her arms, pressed against her face, were the stuffed mabari Fen and the Fereldan cloak with the Antivan stitching.

Zevran smiled as something loosened within his chest and something else tightened in his throat.

She liked it.

-

By the end of the month, Perinella had asked to continue this tradition of the naming day, Carlo had asked every day if his had arrived yet, and Virel had chosen the 9th of Kingsway for his very own naming day. Astala was excited. Perinella wore her cloak, which she did until the weather got far too hot to wear it anymore. Then it was hung up in her wardrobe, right at the front, in its own place of honor. It made Zevran smile more than a single thing—except, of course, for his Warden—had ever made him smile.

-

A couple notes before you leave because I cannot not talk about this story XD XD XD

First of all, I'm by no means an Italian speaker. I do hope what I cobbled together is more or less correct ^^' Here's the translation: - La ringrazio: formal way to say "thank you" - Di niente: "You are welcome"; "It is nothing" -Ti voglio bene: "I love you" (Am I cobbling together Italian and Mexican Spanish and the fantasy swearwords Zevran uses for Antivan? Yes I am)

Second, I love these kids so much omg. Carlo is about 8 here, Perinella 10, probably, and Virel 12-ish? It's hard to tell. They don't know for certain how old they are. Carlo is nonverbal, and has picked up a few very limited signs. Astala, mostly, is currently trying to get them both to learn more, but Carlo has never spoken. Turning his thoughts into word, even if they're not spoken words, is hard for him. Again, I have no personal experience with this. I have done and am in the process of doing my research, but if anything catches your attention that could be done better, please let me know.

The idea for this fic, as well as the idea of Carlo starting to break things in order to get hugs was developed alongside bumbleRhizal (whose Novhen Tabris is an abolute delight). Basically, Carlo once broke something by accident. He was so so so scared of the consequences, but had developed enough trust into the adults now in his life that he decided to risk it and confessed his mistake. He was comforted, told that he had done a very good thing indeed and that he didn't have to be scared. And the broken thing could be replaced anyways. Here, let's clean it up together. And Carlo did admit to his mistakes from that moment on, mostly, but he also found that breaking something was a very convenient way for asking for hugs. He's a street kid. He did not get hugs prior to this. At some point, the adults figured out that the boy hadn't just developed a bad case of the clumsy and started working on it. He still got hugs, just not when he broke something.

The reason Perinella doesn't speak Fereldan (or, in this case, English, saying founded instead of found), is because she's still learning. She's spent a year in the country. It's a totally different language. It'll take her a bit of time still. Also, she's a mage. Those puppets Carlo chose for her? She'll be animating them with force magic at some point. Somebody will have a bit of a heart attack XD XD XD XD Virel and Perinella are former Crow recruits. Zevran freed Virel, and then freed Perinella when Virel refused to leave without her. They have been together through thick and thin, and Virel especially does not trust Zevran, despite having worked with him. Old habits die hard, and the kid is traumatized. They'll get round to it and it'll get better. Not in this fic tho

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this one and I'm so so so excited to read and see what everybody else has been making XD XD XD Huge thank you for @zevraholics for organizing this event. Happy ZevWarden week!!

[astrxealis]

me rn having the biggest hots for leon kennedy and astarion sorry LMFAOOO <3

[artistafrustadomain]

In case someone ask what flag is that: its the greyromantic flag! Greyromantic (also spelled Grayromantic) it describes those who experience romantic attraction with a lesser frequency, or with a lesser intensity (is a term that is used to describe people who feel a limited or uncertain romantic attraction to others.

(Some greyromantics may feel a strong emotional connection with others but do not desire romantic relationships, while others may feel a weak romantic attraction to some people but not all.)

Anyway shout out to all my fellow aro spectrum out there 💚

just another father-son talks... o.g sound

[crovvlipso]

Zevran as my rook's father. Girl dad zevran 😩

[coriphallus]

DA: The Veilguard Spoiler review pt2 - The Grime

this is a hard one to tackle without strawmaning anyone because itll be a direct response to alot of defense ive seen for the games morality system so ill just start by saying, iykyk

never a genre has been better equipped to discuss ethics than the interactive medium of games and yes, bioware games have been doing it since baldurs gate and no, theyve not always been 'centrist' and 'conservative'. im not even gonna entertain that idea. do you remember the cultural landscape DA:O released to? the landscape it was developed in? dont give me that just because zevran doesnt write in his little notes -that you can conveniently read- 'gay good. not me but me bisexual'

Thedas is a flawed world and its a world thats just as desperate to hang on to its status quo as our own. every time you play an elf thats thriving, or a human thats queer, or a mage thats not institutionalised you exist in a world that doesnt want you, it is an act of defiance that you do.

im sure we can all see why these games were so popular with the audience they can only weakly try to pander to today.

derailing time again; so one of my favourite paintings of all time is saturn devouring his son. it makes me feel so uncomfortable that it gave me nightmares as a child, and i still cant look at it without feeling this knot in my throat. i hate it. i hate how it makes me feel, how that man looks at me in terror like its begging me for help while cannibalising another. weird story but i was bewitched by that painting as a little kid.

it is not a well drawn painting, the proportions are all over the place, brush strokes crude and inelegant. it doesnt even have a deeper story nor was it intended for an audience. i will never know what goya thought of when drawing it.

i thought alot about that painting later in my life when i was struggling with mental health problems, i thought about goya alot too as an adult and after learning about his life. i stared at his paintings and remembered when i told my dad that i hated [saturns] big eyes and hed jokingly said "it would be scarier if he didnt have eyes"

i know what the drawing looks like now, nearly everyone with a little access to the internet does. if somebody removed saturn from it, we'd still be left with a brutalised headless carcass of a man in a canvas too big for itself. if we removed that too all we'd be left with would be void.

i dont want to live in a world where all i know of goya is his rococo work, i dont want to stare at the painting of a void knowing what filled it before. i hated every second of germinale but i never wanted it to be anything other than itself, the story it tells could never hold credence otherwise.

DAV has done its best to paint over it, but its still on the old canvas and i cant look away from the negative space its left, i know whats under it and it unsettles me, infuriates me. it hands me a palette with baby blues and pinks and tells me to paint over it to make a prettier painting. didnt i hate the eyes? wasnt it gross before?

i am not going to write why we need some grime in art, but its absence is disheartening. and to those who say hanged people in the streets or blighted villagers is dark and mature ill say no. its a kids idea of maturity, its the aesthetic of it with no substance. it means nothing to me if rook can just drench themselves in gallons of blight as they crawl through it. the horror of blight has never been the black goo and slimy tentacles, or the monster woman with way too many tits. it is watching people you love slowly fade away, it is a woman who was forced to cannibalise the contaminated flesh of her friends because the woman she loved betrayed her, it was the sheer scale and inevitability of it.

one area we go to is overrun by it and the game begs me to feel hopeful that flowers are growing again when it never let me lose hope. people have already prevailed, they have roofs over their heads and a steady supply of food on their tables. their spirit is unwavering.

its bad, everybody says. the sky is grey and soil is blackened, as my rook turns some statues to access a haunted house whos inhabitants are long gone and the only story they could ever tell is gone with them.

if the question is do i want to see famine? plague? misery? abuse? assault? the answer is yes. yes. i want to see it all of the filth. i rather face the fucking monster head on with its big bulging eyes and misshapen limbs than stare at the abyss its absence leaves on the canvas.

and if nothing else, this bastardization is disrespectful to the people who gave the IP its fame.

Why choose to be good?

back in the bsn days ive wondered why, even in a fictional universe where your choices have no real-life repercussions what-so-ever, players had more 'good' playthroughts than 'bad'?

what happens when you start killing NPCs, when youre needlessly mean to them? the game actively closes off its own content. you get less out of the game. just as, completely incidentally, you'd get less out of your life if you just started killing everyone around you. The world would be emptier, youd be alone.

in that quote i stole from good place chidi doesnt ask "why be good?" the wording is painfully deliberate. doing good is always a choice, and often not the easy one. what makes the act matter is that you chose to do it, even when given 6 other options not to. did i stop in the middle of an important quest to help a man retrieve an heirloom from a darkspawn infested hut? did i hear what that heirloom meant to him?

i cant stop thinking about that speech ever since playing this game after knowing its predecessors.

So, why do it then? Why choose to be good, every day, if there is no guaranteed reward we can count on, now or in the afterlife? I argue that we choose to be good because of our bonds with other people and our innate desire to treat them with dignity. Simply put, we are not in this alone.

i cant stop looking at this game that spits on its own legacy and think how could they have missed what fundamentally makes us human so bad, what makes us relate and empathise with eachother. what makes us pick the option to interact with an npc who openly hates what hawke is, and allow us to see the traumatised man underneath.

these characters of fiction are written by real people. i have absolutely nothing in common with a guy from canada yet for a brief moment in time i feel a sense of camaraderie as ive felt with goya that i couldnt articulate as a kid.

Nothing too terrible

DAV says it over and over again -as its wont to do with every piece of its flimsy morality- that people can change, people can be redeemed yet it shines as the game with most static characters in its franchise. it simply says things, and since it has nothing to show for it it makes sure to say it repeatedly, in case you missed it.

so when i first played DAO i was in high school, i started with a human noble because fresh out of dark side edgy kotor fame i wanted to be a posh brat. also because, ya kno, we were poor my entire life up until that point and i wanted to have power.

i committed to it, even as the game stripped cousland of everything he had, because i thought a man like him would. i picked the racist options, the sexist options, the options a man in couslands place would. halfway point of the game as i exhausted the initial dialogues something happened; this man who got paid to kill people, who showed no remorse nor care for his victims, begged my cousland to stil his blade.

and i did. i thought maybe he would be as confused as i was, maybe he had a moment of clarity but from thereon bit by bit he was less of an asshole. the characters grew around me, and my character grew around them. i chose to be good because -textually- we were in this together, at the end of all things.

rook is not a character, theyre a mascot. and quite frankly i think they may be a very evangelical mascot because they remind me of evangelical preachings of jesus more than the man from the bible (and i say this as someone whos only exposure to christianity has been through foreign media and the bible ive read that one time). they are the epitome of do no evil and their existence hinges on the frail concept of moral purity. theyre not a person trying to do good, who wants to be good, they are 'good'

-and lemme tell you its a wild choice to have someone like that locked in a prison of 'regret'-

rook can be mean to only one person in the game, and thats someone they dont even have a personal beef with for the most part. but even then they would be shouting at a wall because the game doesnt only undermine them with its narrative, but also every npc in the game suddenly gets possessed by the ghost of wattpad rejects past for a moment to tell them everyone can be redeemed. and i believe it because i played the other games, i believe it because i know zevran and sten and morrigan, isabela and thom and iron bull and dorian. i know it because i can see the vague shapes behind the new coat of paint but i am not rook.

so no, the game fails to get people-can-change points by its own merit, and it cannot gain points from its prequels because it destroyed them. none of those characters i watched grow exist in this universe. zevran cant exist with DAV crows, fenris` story cant exist in an imperium with invisible slaves only glimpsed through empty cages and broken chains left scattered on the ground. i dont know which morrigan this NPC is, is it the woman who grew to learn kindness, who begged to sleep with her friend just to save them despite knowing it would play into the plans of a destiny she so desperately tried to break free from? or is she the clever puppet her mother groomed her to be who wanted to harness the power of a god? i dont know her, i dont know this dorian or this isabela beyond their names ipso facto this is not a sequel.

bellara asks an assassin why he is trying to save the world and his answer is "ive done some things in the past im not too proud of. nothing too terrible, but some of it was bad." and i can hear the games desperation for me to not engage with its material in that 'nothing too terrible'

lucanis never killed anyone innocent, taash never harmed an animal they could shoo of or reason with, emmrich venerates the dead and is friends with every wisp he pulls to use in menial labour, davrin joined the wardens willingly because he wanted to do good...

rook tells harding that her anger is justified when shes not even allowed anger of her own.

nothing too terrible.

aside from creating boring and nonsensical and static characters it creates a dreadful echochamber that we're forced to sustain. No taash is not valid, their gender is but their behaviour is not and for the character to grow and mature it needs to be addressed. lucanis doesnt need to be pampered in shock blankets he needs to see how repressing his problems and jeopardising his health puts people around him in danger etc etc. they are adults and they need to learn more complex ways of healing. and if rooks flaw is that theyre an enabler, then that needs to be acknowledged by the narrative in some way too, and not mindlessly endorsed because they say some buzzwords.

none of these interpersonal relationships feels real because none of these people feel real beyond some draft of themes and tropes. some interactions literally remind me of two bots in facebook comments

i look at this dialogue wheel with familiar symbols and all im reminded of is hawke telling carver he carries every death with him, of him telling his uncle that he wasnt fast enough, of him begging the person he loves to tell him that his mothers death wasnt his fault.

and they dont. they just sit there with him.

[magesforthedas]

Saw a picture of a Tumblr post on Pinterest lol (original credit to @dorianpavus !) of interesting party compositions... And I figured I'd add my take featuring Veilguard companions 😂

Lucanis & Zevran | We're here, we're Antivan, and we're out to steal your heart (but only one of us knows that's what he's doing)

Bellara & Merrill | Adorable ancient elven history geeks, skilled against (���.or with) blood magic

Emmerich & Wynne | Our favorite wise elderly mages who do have game still, thank you very much

Davrin, Blackwall, and Anders | We may not all actually be Grey Wardens, but we bond through our shared respect for them

Davrin, Anders, and Alistair | We are all actually Grey Wardens, and also have issues with authority

Neve, Vivienne, and Morrigan | The W. I. T. C. H. party= Woman In Total Control of Herself (and, ya know, they're all powerful mages who could probably rule the world through sheer willpower if they wanted)

Harding & Shale | You can find them bonding over rocks, probably

Taash, Sera, and Merrill | Will be asking all the most uncomfortable and/or confusing questions

Lucanis, Cole, and Anders | We're all varying amounts of spirit. Some of us handle that better than others

Neve, Cassandra, and Aveline | We are the law and you will behave

Emmerich & Leliana | Let's all sit down and have some tea, oh yes Manfred you can play with the nugs, but be careful not to break anything!

Harding, Nathaniel, and Alistair | Wait, you've been flirting with me? This whole time?? (Please I know canonically you can't flirt with Nathaniel.... But a girl can dream 😆)

Lucanis, Fenris, and Anders | Two "mage killers" and one "mage, killer"

Bellara, Cassandra, and Varric | The trashy novel enthusiasts

Emmerich, Carver, and Oghren | The sheer chaos and annoyance that would abound between these people... Oghren would probably still have a great time, at least

Taash, Dorian, and Sebastian | You should never hide your true self.... Okay actually nevermind, Sebastian maybe you should

Davrin & The Iron Bull | The Dad™ team

Assan, Manfred, and Dog | The real MVPs, the Dream Team, the Feather, Fur, and Bone Brigade… they know they’re the favorites

I can’t do enough tags to get everyone, so companions just know you are all in my heart 🫶

[lelianasbong]

the dumbfounded way leliana says "you- you're married?!" when you take her to meet the family the alienage. the way my warden was torn between choking on the trauma versus trying to explain that it was arranged and she's gay and it's not like that. all tabris wanted was to introduce her girlfriend to her dad but no. tevinter slavers posing as doctors have him and half your neighbors in cages.

saddest field trip since that time we had to kill zevran's ex-boyfriend five minutes after we killed leliana's ex-girlfriend.

[hyperbali]

This seemed to go over well on r/dragonage, so I will also share it over here!

The question was:

Which DA Romances Do You Think Would Be Open To Having Kids?

DAO

Alistair - if he's got that Strong Theirin Bullshit going on, I think he's having a couple kids regardless of if it's with HoF or Anora. He's a great goofy dad but can't discipline worth a damn.

Leliana - Mmh... she would probably prefer to adopt rather than give birth, I think. Even then, she seems more like an auntie than a mother.

Morrigan - Did not ever foresee or want it for herself, but is a pretty decent mom by virtue of not wanting to be like Flemeth. Not a "cool" mom, but would let her kids have their independence.

Zevran - I can only ever see it being on accident, as beforehand he would have absolutely denied it - but once the possibility is in reach, he can't let the idea go. Ultimate Girl Dad.

DA2

Anders - Nope. Back in Awakening he liked his freedom without fetters too much, and over the course of 2 he gets too focused on becoming a martyr. Ain't ever gonna happen.

Fenris - Not something I think he actively wants, but is willing to take responsibility if it happens. He's the kind of stoic dad that it's hard to get an outward reaction from, but he's definitely protective of his kids.

Isabela - HAHA. That's adorable, kitten! (She probably just ends up kind of semi-adopting a galley kid, but in a way one would adopt a stray outdoor cat - leave it to its business.)

Merrill - Kind of taken aback by the idea, but secretly grows on it. I think she'd probably end up more of a mother figure to refugee elves, though.

DAI

Blackwall - Much as it's cute to think of him as a dad, I think what he did with the mercenary company is going to haunt him too much, even if he goes back to being Thom. He's content with the Inquisitor alone.

Cassandra - So long as she's not Divine, she would be willing to consider it - but would only want just one. Hard disciplinarian, but secretly a softie on some occasions.

Cullen - He's gonna end up having to build an entire farm community just to house all the impending kids and dogs. This man wants a BIG FAMILY.

Dorian - The thought of it is instantly repellant to him just on the basis of it having been expected of him for so long. He'd also be quietly terrified of ending up like his own father, hurting his own child while thinking he's doing his best for them... so no, definitely not happening.

Iron Bull - Hadn't ever really thought about it... ever, but if he's Tal-Vashoth, his heart melts when he sees any of his own babies for the first time. Any kid's got him wrapped around their little finger, and a whole host of aunts and uncles in the Chargers.

Josephine - She wants at least two, but preferably three - it simply wouldn't do for any of her children to grow up lonely. Hilariously, she's one of the strictest parents.

Sera - She sort of just wants to keep the Inquisitor all to herself for as long as she can, but if her wife really, really wanted it, she'd shrug and say why not? An alright mom, especially when they're still little, but I think she'd get really frustrated when they hit their teens.

Solas - He would like to say he doesn't wish it were possible, sometimes. He would like to say that.

DAV

Bellara - She would go nuts tracking down every single child-rearing research material she could and generally get herself anxious about it, but she'd turn out to be one of the best moms of the bunch.

Davrin - Willing to adopt after a while, especially once Assan starts getting older and leaving for longer periods of time as he gains his independence. That kiddo is definitely growing up with the best boy bird-cat-dog protector. Bit of a gruff dad, but he means well and can ease up with help.

Emmrich - Either way you shake it, probably not. Either he's content with Manfred and wouldn't want to chance leaving a young child behind when he eventually passes, or he just can't because he's a lich. For the latter, though, I think he'd be a great dadly mentor for the ages.

Harding - The ultimate in mommy cottagecore. TELL me you can't see her hiking through a forest with a bundled baby on her back, a kidlet skipping at her side, singing together as they head back home for the day. Adorable.

Lucanis - Incredibly unnerved by how much pressure is on him by being The Last Man Standing of the Dellamortes and what that means for their legacy, as well as being terrified over the possibility of what Spite could do to a child... but man, the thought haunts him. He wants to feel part of a close family again so bad. He would cry the first time he held his baby.

Neve - Probably not interested in having any of her own, but definitely ends up being kind of the boss-slash-denmother of a bunch of urchins in Docktown. She (lightly) bullies them into eating and sleeping, and they're her eyes from the shadows.

Taash - Their hang-ups over their mom are way too intense for that. Helping other Qunari and/or Tal-Vashoth adjust to a non-Qun life is about as far as that idea is gonna get.