#Iron Bull: threads

[immortalmuses]

My beloved @fatescarred has once again nourished me with AmariBull Goodness!!

Amariel is a patient woman… until she is not. When the dust has settled. When, more or less, all is said and done, there is a bit of information that reaches the former Inquisitor's ears. She tries to stamp down the smile that begins to bloom across her face afterwards but even her sister can tell something was up and promptly shoos her away with a subtle wave of her hand. It starts as a brisk walk, taking her time to check in with others if need be, all the while toying with half a dragon’s tooth hanging from her neck. But soon she hears the rumble of a hearty laugh along the air and her heart skips. Feet gradually take her into a run and the sight of familiar horns brings forth a burst of laughter alongside joyful tears. She meets his gaze and leaps into the arms of her beloved with little hesitation, knowing that he would always catch her, knowing that he would never let her down.

ㅤㅤㅤEver since Solas's latest stunt with the veil, shit's gotten pretty rough in the South of Thedas. The Iron Bull won't pretend it otherwise. He's seen his fair share of war, even fought them on multiple fronts. The Qunari thought the worst of his memories were made back when the Inquisition faced down Corypheus's armies.

ㅤㅤㅤBut this? Blight tumors festering all over Thedas like cancer? The endless invasion of darkspawn swarming cities and regions alike? Fucking Blighted Dragons? What is it with Elven Gods and ruining a perfectly good time, eh? Bull's meant to be retired.

ㅤㅤㅤWhich was exactly why, as soon as he saw abatement in the darkspawn slamming themselves against the outer walls of Skyhold, Iron Bull packed up his Chargers and struck out for the North. He's still got enough of a hand in the spy network to keep tabs on where the action's at, and he knew Amariel was headed for Minrathous. All Bull could hope for is that he gets there before she pulls another sacrifice play like the big damn hero she is…

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(It's a long trip)

ㅤㅤㅤNow, Bull stands a head taller than most of the celebrants outside the Divine's manor, peering through the crowd for a plume of familiar hair. It's a fool thing to do, Amari could be anywhere in the city at this point—

ㅤㅤㅤBut then he hears it, her laughter, and The Iron Bull knows.

ㅤㅤㅤ“KADAN!!—” He shouts, voice gone hoarse from the smoke of burning cities, from too many hours breathing road dirt, from sheer fucking relief because; She's alive. She's alive, She's Alive, Thank the Damned Qun, She's Alive!

ㅤㅤㅤBull's arms catch Amariel mid-flight, his embrace closing around her smaller frame and holding her suspended against his chest, horned brow dropping to rest against her own and pressing their faces close enough to share breath. He wants to take in all of her, look at every body part and reassure himself that Lavellan is safe and unhurt. But Bull can't look away from her face, the curve of her mouth, her eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤ"Nobody gets this lucky a third time, Kadan." The Iron Bull rasps, crushing Amariel impossibly closer. And maybe his cheeks are as wet as hers... maybe the fingertips touching Amari's cheek tremble. There's no one left in Thedas to write a better love story than the one they've lived. "... From now on, we go together, or not at all."

[immortalmuses]

ㅤㅤㅤThe way Dorian calls Rockslides refreshing startles a laugh out of The Iron Bull, and he leans back on his heels to give the other man both a bemused look and a little more space. Even a potential gut would hasn't blunted Pavus's wit, it seems. The Qunari takes it as a good sign.

ㅤㅤㅤDespite Dorian's attempts at deflection (commission a portrait? Really?), Bull's eye follows the other man's gaze down to the torn fabric of his robe, material matted with blood. He frowns, reading between the lines of the Mage's bluster, "…So. You didn't take a hit to anything vital, then? I don't wanna worry about you getting sepsis before I can find us a way outta here."

ㅤㅤㅤIf it were one of his chargers, The Iron Bull would press the topic, insist on seeing the wound for himself. But he can sense that Dorian is teetering on some kind of emotional precipice, and Bull has enough self-preservation not to light the match that might burn down this tentative truce between them. When the mage starts to list forward, he automatically puts a hand out to steady him, his grip on Dorian's shoulder gentle.

ㅤㅤㅤAt the Mage's impatient question (Can we please fetch something to stop this bleeding?), The Iron Bull slants Pavus an bemused incredulous look. He replies, slowly, as if speaking to a rookie, "In case you haven't noticed, tough guy, we're not exactly trapped in a healing ward here. The options for staunching your wound are…" He glances around, down at his billowy trousers, then at Dorian's own dusty robes. "Well, they're pretty limited."

ㅤㅤㅤNothing for it, then. Bull reaches to grip part of Dorian's vestments, locating the least soiled section of the fine fabric and tearing it free with a great Riiip!

ㅤㅤㅤ"--I could have always torn up my pants," He says blithely, "but then I'd be naked." Because of course The Iron Bull doesn't wear underwear. The Qunari pauses shredding the fabric piece into useable strips, smirking at Dorian from the corner of his mouth, "…… unless that's something you'd like?"

ㅤㅤㅤWithout waiting for a response, Bull folds a strip of the fabric and tucks it into Pavus's hand, instructing, "Press that against your hip, hard. I'll use the rest as a binding for pressure."

Bloody bastard. Perhaps he's ought to share his inclination towards cats with him! With his claws ready, the Tevinter would be happy to provide.

Unfortunately, while the pain leaves him not exactly like a panther, Dorian gives off what he hopes is indignant tabby. Alas, it doesn't seem to have much of an effect, calm and patient as the Iron Bull's determined to stubbornly hold onto. In fact, it seems to gentle him further, his lone eye searching and those great, great palms maddeningly steady. A slight sound leaves him, some quarter parts a whine and a very testy huff. What a shame he's holed here with this menacing Qunari, but then...

Well, with Bull's penchant for his safety, perhaps this is a good thing.

"On the contrary, I'm here very willingly. The South offers so many experiences. I was expecting more spitting at my feet and creative insults about my mother. The rockslides? Refreshing. The attempts on my life? Less so."

Funny, huh? Looking out unto the unending chasm, it's then that Dorian is glad to realize he's not the least bit claustrophobic. All the same, pushing off Bull, he still sees the tinnying of his vision dull about its edges. That, he decides, is worthy of at least a modicum of concern. He swears thinly under his breath looking down at the smear of red against his palm. From this angle, too, he catches Bull kneeling down when the stare he's met bears down entirely encompassing.

"Never better. I look incredible in red. If you're determined to commit the image to memory, I might suggest commissioning a portrait," he snaps weakly. It almost makes him feel bad. Dorian knows Bull's ankle isn't exactly at its best, and the genuine sense of care bare in that blasted brow--! It makes him sigh in a very put upon manner. "I'm not exactly jumping for joy, but it could be worse. I could be crushed under rocks in a dank cave like some lost Fereldan child who'd thought himself a gopher. I suppose I could have been had you not whisked me away." Is that what he wants? A thank you? A great big christening as his devilishly horned knight in naked armor? "So, lucky that." It hurts. Dorian teeters forward but refuses to grab him. Steady, goodness. Steady. "Now, can we please fetch something to stop this bleeding?"

[unknownmusing]

Adoribull Fanfic: 'When a Thread of Fate Brings Two People Together'

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Plot Summary:

A story of how a Mage and Qunari who are both of different races slowly over time as they spent having adventures together begin to develop something more between them.

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Prologue - 'The Beginning of a Thread of Fate Weaving between Two Different Races to Join Them Together' (Part 1 of ?)

Location - Un-named river some distance from Redcliffe Village - Hinterlands, Ferelden - Late Evening

In an area surrounded by meadow grass and wildflowers, while a river winds it way through mountainous region a few feet away, Dorian Pavus flicks through the tome he picked up on his travels using the light from the crackling camp-fire to illuminate the pages so he can read them - some of the writing is faded over time with other parts missing paragraphs but the diagrams helped understand the spells being mentioned.

So absorbed in his reading of the tome he doesn't hear his second companion travelling with him approaching the camp, until a thud of something heavy lands close-by making him lift his head to see some kind of wild boar lays there - though looking more mutated and hybrid-looking - then flicks his gaze up to his large companion who's reached for a large carving knife to sharpen it with a whetstone.

"Don't worry, I know which cuts to get that won't make us ill." Iron Bull - a Beast of the the Qunari - states to Dorian who's wondering if should decline in eating but his stomach betrays him by choosing to grumble indicating he's hungry.

This makes the large Qunari chuckle at him, standing up to pick up the wild boar's body to take it over to the branch of tree to begin skinning it - removing the fur; other parts which are inedible and finally cutting it so effeciently and effortlessly that Dorian forgets for a moment Iron Bull has murdered various people in similar ways as he watches the sight of the minotaur working away.

The slope of the large muscles shifting, every soft way the hands slide over the dead boar's body testing to see which way to cut and turning it to check the other side of it that gulping slightly, Dorian shuts the tome to place in his travelling pack and getting up heads down to river needing some space.

His mind begins to flood with so many images, he quickly places a clenched fist in his mouth to silence any sounds - this was frankly embarassing, he's acting like a young randy male seeing a female they like but don't want to admit - when he reaches the beach-area nearby the river curve so that Iron Bull can't pick them up, his other resting over his abdomen close to his groin.

"Control yourself, Dorian…..Control yourself…..you hate his Race…..remember….." He mutters under his breath, only for sudden image of him and the beast embraced in such a way his clenched fist moves away from his mouth to grip his shoulder and other cup himself between his thighs arching slightly when unexpected heat floods through him at it.

He moans breathlessly to his shame, horror and embarassment knowing that the Qunari would pick it up with their acute hearing only to sink down onto the sandy ground lying back to begin to rub himself through his breeches, thighs quivering intensely and mind flooding with so many images, whispers and sensation of being embraced he can't help but let out mewling breathless gasps, pants and whimpers.

What is happening to him?

Why was heat flooding throughout his system like his body had realised he was compatible with the Qunari when records stated it wasn't possible for a Beast of the Qunari to be compatible with a Human and other species and only their own.

Was it because of when they met that fateful rainfall night the touch from the Qunari had left an imprint and somehow they both become compatible?

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 PART 1 - 'How the Thread First Formed Between Two'

Location - Tevinter Imperium - Nothern Thedas, Minrathous - Approaching Late Evening 

2 Years Earlier

Rain is falling down heavily on the streets of Tevintar Imperium in Northern Thedas, Minrathous, drowning out the sounds of scuffle going on between four people – the fourth trying to make dash for it, an alleyway between two large buildings briefly becoming illuminated by an eerie light which fades away when they are knocked over before can get out of the alleyway where curses in native Tevene begin to fill it.

“Maybe we should gag him for good measure. This….fucking mage as a mouth on him doesn’t he.”

“Just remember his….the Magister Pavus I mean wants him alive.”

“Heh, yeah good coin being paid for escorting this….”

Dorian Pavus – son of Halward Pavus and Aquinea Thalrassian – finds him struggling in vain to get away from the larger of the Hired Thugs pinning him down onto the alleyway ground mostly grinding to his vain his face into it, discussing with the other two thugs debating on what do with him.

It is a handful of days since he run away from his home and for good intentions and reasons, he never wanted to set foot there again. Surrounded by something which had started to become the equivalent of a gilded cage which he begins to wonder would ever be able to get out of.

“Heh, seems our Mage here is being a little too quiet.” One of the Hired Thugs notes, squatting down in front of him to reach out to grab hold of the back of his head by his hair wrenching it upwards to force him to look at harsh, unforgiving cold eyes. “What you thinking about? Way to escape?”

Glaring back, Dorian refuses to answer resulting a hand immediately slapping him across the face so hard it leaves his ears ringing and splitting his lower lip in the process allowing blood to trickle down the side of his lip and chin closely followed by a hand grabbing hold of his chin to dig their nails harshly into his cheeks when they say their next words.

“You know I always hated Vint’s like this, Pompous, arrogant and vain. Only thinking about themselves.”

Brought up onto his feet, Dorian wonders if can summon a quick spell – one that will get rid of the Hired Thugs - when a gruff, deep voice interrupts it sends prickles up and down him in a such a way it felt like when one meets their Soulmate for the first time and their coloured Soul Threads connect.

“And does that count for yourself as well."

A very large, tall figure stands there at the entrance to the alleyway wearing a faded hooded cloak looking straight at the Hired Thugs surrounding him.

"So......Did you miss me?" Is the first words from the large hooded figure - who after the brief glimpse Dorian had seen of their face when they were fighting is a Qunari who looks oddly familiar and bringing back a memory of night at a Masked Party, an embrace in large arms and so much unexpected overstimulation it was feat he managed to get up to leave in the morning - as he leans against the alley brick-wall with his arms crossed over his chest and staff back in its holder on his back.

Sighing heavily with one hand up coming to pinch the bridge of his nose he wonders how he answer the Qunari - the hulk of a beast who he had a one night stand with, before escaping from the guest bedchamber lest fear of scandal of being discovered bedding a Qunari - whose name he doesn't know, who is busy going through the Hired Thugs until finds one still alive.

"I...Don't have a clue what you mean by 'Did I miss you?' because 1. I don't know who you are and 2. What are you doing?" Dorian replies, watching the Qunari turn their hooded gaze to him before gets up, just after bounding their prisoner in tight ropes so the singled-out Hired Thug cannot escape, walking up to where he stands.

A hand slams beside his head onto the alley brickwall allowing for the hooded cloak to slip off slightly revealing one ash-grey hand covered in snaking ink-black tattoos at the sametime the Qunari presses closer to him it forces him to turn his face to one side to not look at them.

"You have to understand....you felt the sensation didn't you?" The Qunari asks him, referring of course to the feel of a Soul-Thread connecting him to their's making Dorian, blush so heavily it's no doubt showing on his face even in the dim moonlight alongside the promixity of them against his body.

"Vishante kaffas!! I have no idea what your talking about!!!? Now if you'll excuse me....I like to get on....mmfffff!!!?" Dorian begins to say, only for lips to smash into his before he can even protest or cast a spell sending a throbbing wave of something through the forming Soul Thread making him slump against their large body, feeling one hand slide around to embrace him and the other come up to cradle the back of his head.

His fingers twitch heavily, hands spasming before manages to wrench free stumbling down the alleyway to compose himself.

Dorian brings up to his slightly swollen lips a shaking hand - the Qunari had just kissed him!!!? Without even a warning, just did it to him.

Angry at the forcefulness of it he forms a lightening ball in one hand, turning fully around to face the Qunari standing there watching him to send it hurtling towards them choosing not to hang around to check if worked or not. 

His mind beginning to flood with a memory of a masked party, the mysterious large Qunari and everything else that had happened that fateful night as he keeps on running and running through the weaving alleyways and down empty streets passing by houses, shops and market stalls until out of one of the many large city gate's into the wildness of a land unknown to him. 

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Notes:

This chapter deals with introducing the characters called Verikas - an elf who doesn't want to be an Inquisitor - and his friend Ku'rac who is a Qunari who in next chapter will soon meet Dorian and Iron Bull

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Part 2 – The Beginning (1 of ?)

Location - The Fade also known as The Beyond - Location of Realm Unknown 

It is an quiet, eerie stillness of without sound which makes Verikas flutter his eyes open, faintly seeing the blurred large figure of his close friend Ku’rac – a Qunari who had become exiled from his people due to disagreements with them – lying close-by then his vision fully clears to reveal he is in the Fade.

Around wispy emerald mist raises in different areas, structures of crumbled elvish ruins float in the air way above - some facing upside down and others dissembling - then hears a pained groan coming from Ku'rac making him get up, stumbling slightly forwards swaying due to experiencing the Fade for the first time trying to remember what happened but all he is getting is fractured memories of group of people talking; a cloaked hooded figure wearing a mask with liliac vines on it and then a explosion of raw, untimed magical energy originating from somewhere.

"Ku'rac....Ku'rac...." Verikas reaching his friend calls out, trying to rouse the Qunari who gives pained groan with both his hands twitching - unclenching and clenching - until flutters his eyes open, gaze soon focusing on him with Ku'rac allowing him to help him to sit up

"Verikas, what.....the Maker just happened?!! Last thing I remember was watching you from the balcony about to state you don't want to be an Inquisitor then nothing afterwards!!" Ku'rac asks him so many questions he cannot give his friend any of the answers to, because even himself doesn't know them.

"I....have faint memory but will have to discuss it later. We need to get out of here." Verikas replies, his keen hearing picking up that they are not alone with him helping Ku'rac to stand up, followed by noticing a bright light in the distance.

Both agree that they should head towards it to investigate what it could be, quickly making their way across crumbling platforms; clambering up floating islands above them and coping with walking upside down or even sideways until finally reach a flight of stone-carved steps.

"Verika, spiders!!!?" Ku'rac calls out to him, pointing to mass of them skittering across over to where they are located he begins to run up the stairs only to trip over a step when a sudden and unexpected sharp, lightening-like pain radiates from his hand through every nerve ending he finds himself giving out a bloodcurdling scream.

His legs give out on him with Ku'rac sweeping in to grab hold to cradle in his large arms, running up the stone-carved steps where the light of the figure waiting seems to enamate outwards that Verikas doesn't remember what happens next.

Just the words 'You'll will live. The both of you' closely followed by blackness.

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[stxriesfromasharchive]

Open Starters

"Love is all starlight and gentle blushes. Passion leaves your fingers sore from clawing the sheets."

He takes a large gulp from the tankard full of foamy beer, nearly finishing half while leaving bits of liquid traces in his mustache.

[immortalmuses]

ㅤㅤㅤThe Iron Bull is close, closer than Guin probably realizes. For all his bulk, he's long been a presence in the Inquisitor's blind spot, filling that space that would otherwise leave her vulnerable, exposed. A thing Trevelyan cannot afford to be, especially not now.

ㅤㅤㅤSo Bull makes sure he's at the Inquisitor's flank when she's taken by the throes of her Reaver Rampage. In the moment, it's Glorious. And Savage. And so damn Bloody they could paint the world red. But when all that ends… yeah. Blood's the only thing guaranteed to stick around, even in rain as heavy as this.

ㅤㅤㅤThe Iron Bull is all-too-familiar with the fallout of a Reaver mindset, of how an unstoppable warrior's energy suddenly funnels away like water through a sieve. He spots the minute tremble in Guin's shoulders, careful not to touch her as he takes a step closer. When Trev turns to seek his gaze, Bull angles his horns down and looks back without reservation, his gut clenching at the sight of tears. This is not the glory they dreamed up in the Hinterlands, like children on a day-trip. They are well past that, on the backside of a war that Iron Bull had hoped Guin would never have to see.

ㅤㅤㅤHe opens the arm not holding his great axe, close enough that Trev can fall into him and be caught by the breadth of The Iron Bull's massive ribcage.  "Boss." He says in a low rumble, acknowledgement and invitation in one. "I got you."

All she can hear is her blood racing in her ears, a chorus of rage as her quarry slams into the ground below with a tremor. She can see nothing; not her companions, not the field of battle as it tunnels on the slit pupil of the dragon's eye peering up at her.

She does not hesitate.

There was almost no color left in her irises as the blade sinks deep into the creature's skull. Obsidian strands cling to her neck from sweat and rain, rain that continues to pelt down on them; she's as if a woman possessed. Rain water clinks against the metal of her armor as the roaring death rattle of the dragon subsides, leaving them in silence. She's panting, nose bridge creased viciously from the exertion.

It is done.

The rage ebbs away as the adrenaline and fire from her wounding subsides, and she's—tired. Her shoulders shake from the grip she keeps on the blade as her chin trembles, the blue of her eyes slowly returning as they flood with tears not yet shed. The rain continues as she tries to breathe.

She's tired of being this, she's tired of the responsibilities stacking and stacking; is it still yet not enough?

No, it never is.

She dares only look in the direction of one companion, needing to make sure he stands. Her port in a storm, her true north, emotion swelling within her chest as she's afraid if she lets go of her blade—she will collapse altogether.

@immortalmuses

[vtriol]

with all their talents and experience, the heat of the forbidden oasis (or rather, the direction they supposed it was) made the trudging through sand all the more miserable. they had made it all this way, hadn't they? surely they were entitled to a complaint or two.

“ think we should get a palanquin or something for next time, boss? ” says @hissrath, ever the one to encourage some banter. to their misery, the inquisitor laughs and replies, “ and get cullen down here to help with it. i could make it happen. ”

the mention of the commander only incenses the mage further, their face turning red from a combination of the sun heat, embarrassment, and anger. spite is an excellent motivator, and thana's pace overtakes the insufferable qunari and his inquisitor. “ i am orlesian, i have been 'marching' in these Maker-cursed sands since i could stand on my own two legs! ” they say over their shoulder, and turn forward just in time to catch the steep, sandy dune at its peak before tumbling over.

thana was never one for discretion. in that, playing into the mysterious mage-warden was easy enough, and the whispers were manageable. but Maker, did the teasing not drive cullen up a wall like it does them? perhaps not, with the speed the inquisition seemed to find out.

“ if cullen ever coddles me like that, i'd set all of skyhold on fire. and if i let him, strike me down. ” thana swears, then sees the ever-increasing expanse of sand in front of them and swears again. “ no ancient temple is worth this trek, and i hold my right to whinge however i wish. doubly so if i have to fight any of those damn venatori. ”

[xxstxriesfromashxx]

The Countess & The Qunari

@adeadlysong liked for a random CANON GREMLIN and got IRON BULL

"Oh, Maker! These are absolutely delicious, Countess!" Iron Bull, the tall and bulky Qunari warrior exclaims as he all but scarfs down the pastry (which looked absolutely tiny in his large hands) offered to him by the Inquisition's new guest. His wrinkled and scarred face lit up as he savored the taste of his next bite, the sounds he couldn't help but make causing some onlookers to stare curiously and a bit strangely without the context.

"I've never had something so sweet yet so full of flavor before!" He was not much of a pastry or dessert guy - meat of any kind was much more preferred, something chalk full of protein and usually either roasted to a crisp or slathered in juices.

[vaguely-concerned]

I understand and agree with a lot of the frustrations about the shortcomings of Inquisition as a story. but sometimes when I hear people complain about the chosen one narrative in it I do want to just be like... you know it's a deconstruction of the concept more than anything, right. the inquisitor isn't actually chosen by anything except stumbling into the wrong (right?) room at the right (wrong?) time because they like, heard a noise or whatever. or if you think they are chosen, as many do in-universe, that's something you have to take on faith, the maker-or-whoever moves in mysterious ways indeed-style. the Inquisitor isn't actually a Destined Chosen One, they're a Just Some Guy in a fancy hat, self-delusions of grandeur to taste as you'd prefer.

a running thread that goes through all of the personal quests of the companions is the concept of a comforting lie vs. an uncomfortable truth, upholding old corrupt structures vs. disrupting them, and the role of faith in navigating that. (blackwall the warden vs. thom rainier the liar and murderer. hissrad vs. the iron bull, or is that the other way around? cassandra and the seekers -- do we tell the truth about what we find, even if it means dismantling the old order of the world? and so on.) and your inquisitor IS at the same time a comforting lie (a necessary one, in dark times? the game seems to ask) and an uncomfortable truth (we are the result of random fickle chance, no protective hand is held over the universe, it's on us to make a better world because the maker sure as hell won't lift a divine finger to help anyone, should he against all odds exist). faith wielded for political power... where's the point that it crosses the line into ugliness? is it before it even begins? what's the alternative? will anyone listen to the truth, if you tell it?

interesting how you also get a mix of companion agency in this -- you have characters like dorian who ALWAYS choose one side of the comforting lie vs. uncomfortable truth dichotomy. he will always make up his own mind to go back to tevinter and try to dismantle the corruption of the old system no matter what you say, or how you try to influence him. meanwhile iron bull is on the complete opposite side of the spectrum -- so psychologically trapped and mangled, caught in an impossible spiritual catch-22, that his sense of identity is left entirely to you and your mercy. you cannot change dorian in any way that matters; you can be his friend or not, support him or not, but he is whole no matter what. you are given incredible and potentially destructive-to-him power over bull's soul. it's really cool (and heartbreaking) to think about.

this is a game about how history will eat you even while you're still alive, and shape you into whatever image it pleases to serve it, and for all your incredible power right now you are powerless in the face of the gravitational force of time -- of more than time, of History. you won't recognize yourself in what History will make of you, because you belong to it now. you don't belong to yourself anymore and you never will again. the further you were from what it needs from you to begin with, the more you will find yourself distorted in its funhouse mirror. (why hello there inquisitor ameridan, same hat!)

and to me this is so much the core of what Dragon Age is about right from the Origins days -- how and by whom history gets written, the inherent unreliable narration of it all. I hope you like stories, Inquisitor. You are one now.

I do think it's probably still the weakest of the games narratively, and it's hampered by its structure and bloated systems. but I also find it disingenous to say that there's nothing deeper or actually interesting going on with it, thematically. if you're willing to engage with it there is Some Real Shit going on under the high fantasy-tinted surface.

[immortalmuses]

@scvcnofswords sent: ‘ all time ever does is pass and all i ever do is remember . ’ (regin to the iron bull)

ㅤㅤㅤThe Iron Bull uncurls the mountainous slope of his back, straightening up from where he's hunched over the grinding wheel with his axe in hand. He hums acknowledgement to Regin's words, tilting his head to better consider her with his good eye.

ㅤㅤㅤ"... We had ways of handling that under the Qun, y'know..." Bull says, absently testing the edge of his axeblade with the pad of his thumb, "If one of us couldn't leave the past where it belonged, we'd... submit ourselves for re-education."

ㅤㅤㅤHe'd done it, perhaps more than once. The Qunari has a hard time remembering, sometimes. Swinging his freshly sharpened weapon in a practice arc, The Iron Bull asks, "What's brought this on, Boss? Something in your past distracting you from our delightfully apocalyptic present?"

[hattedhedgehog]

Here's the small-scale colour sampler for my newest Dragon Age tarot embroidery: The Iron Bull! As usual this is just a test for how the threads look together and not the final stitches I'll be using. I've actually wanted to do this one for a while, but then Solas' card took priority with the upcoming game. It's hard to believe this will be my 5th one!

I adore this card; it's so cool that after the Demands of the Qun mission, it appears the most tragic card out of the outcomes, but ends up being the best one in the long run. (You'd better have chosen the outcome that got you this card btw...)

My other Dragon Age embroideries: (X)

- [If you want to get Dragon Age: The Veilguard on PC and also support me making crafts like this, you can use promo code HATTEDHEDGEHOG at checkout through the EA app or Dragon Age site, and I receive part of the proceeds! Applicable to ANY Dragon Age title too, not just The Veilguard.]

[felassan]

Taash's art piece is just so beautiful! With how windy it looks (her hair blowing around), the blue-green background, and the wave-like pattern in the background, it gives the impression of the rushing sea. (and with the rushing sea, it has a sense of adventure!). The ocean background makes sense - she is affiliated with the Lords of Fortune, a group with a cephalopod logo and who are based out of Rivain, a nation almost completely surrounded by the sea. Their vibe/aesthetic has been described as incorporating a pirate-y element, they have ships, and they were said to hold dominion over the coasts of Rivain. We've also seen in-game shots now of a Rivaini shore that we will visit, complete with bright blue-green sea. the eye-like pattern in the sea in the top right and some of the 'triangles' in the sea remind me of dragons and sea-serpents.

With Taash's design, the 'protruding' parts of her armor, like around her shoulders (two, three) look like they could be dragon-scales. Trophies from dragon hunts? :) In Thedas, armor can be made from dragonscale. I wonder, is the jade-looking horn (the same color as the sea) a covering for that horn, or a straight-up replacement horn? We can see here that it has polished planes and cut edges in the manner of a cut gem. Gold coins fall around her, fitting for someone affiliated with a piratey, treasure-hunting faction. The red threads, rope-like in appearance, remind me of that aspect of some Qunari armor/clothing. In this piece they sort of flow around her in places, but we can see here for example that they're an element of her clothing. I wonder if she's Qunari, Tal-Vashoth or Vashoth. Being associated with a group originating in Rivain, maybe she's from Kont-aar or its surrounds, a coastal city in northern Rivain that is the only peaceful Qunari settlement on the mainland continent? Her gold jewelry and items are beautiful. Jewelry seems to be a notable part of clothing in Rivain, and among the Lords of Fortune, those that survive for more than a few years wear their treasures, charms and other items. It seems like Taash is a successful Lord of Fortune(/adjacent), someone who has found/won many treasures and accomplished great feats. The gold dragon at her collarbone is a cool touch.

Maybe it was Taash who wrote this Codex, and the title is alliterative, "Taash Talks"? The writer comes across like a dragon enthusiast and it references being near the shore/sea. Iron Bull once said "So, when you face a dragon, does it get your heart pumping? Do you breathe a little faster, feel the blood racing?" (in the DA:TV trailer, Varric says that they will need someone "with fire in their blood" to face dragons). And from this blurb, something has been unsettling the dragons in Rivain, in a way that dovetails in the Lord of Fortunes being concerned with it:

Upon eastern shores and sunkissed sands, the Lords of Fortune no longer hold dominion over the coasts of Rivain – not when dragons are growing bolder and laying wastes to their ships.

[source]

[angstandhappiness]

LMAO ADORABLE

@drown-the-bitten Oughghgh Chinese family moments are stored in the making of food....

[landofadonises]

The Encounters - Locker Room; June 26th, 2017

Brad was finishing up his 4-hour long workout session, like any other day (every day of the week), when some shorty with some toned muscles and a tight ass walked up to him and asked, "Hey, big guy, you need any help gettin' washed up? Watched you the whole time out there, you damn muscle hog. I know for a fact you can't reach behind that huge back of yours."

Brad was never one to refuse a bit of attention from a thirsty twink, so he agreed. "Just be careful, lil' man. You don't want me gettin' riled up." As they started walking toward a stall, Brad then mentioned, "You're only helpin' me with the bod', bro. I was plannin' on jackin' it since I'm all packed and juiced from my sesh, and you ain't gettin' that." The twink smirked. "Whatever you say, big guy."

Why Brad ever thought he had control of the situation is beyond any listener that hears this from the gym desk agent that had to escort a completely-spent Brad out from the completely clogged and coated shower. Things started smoothly enough, the two of them playing a bit of dress-down, the twink feeling like he was working at a car wash more than helping a massive beefcake wash all his nooks and crannies. His hands started traveling, though, and surely enough, a particular grazing of Brad's inner thigh made him snap to attention but already reeling from the sensation. "B-bro... you gotta be c-careful... for fuckin' real! These are compression so my horse cock ain't floppin' out of my shorts while I'm pumpin' iron! E....e-expensive, man!"

The twink grinned fiendishly as each word Brad muttered was accompanied by a thread of fabric snapping, ripping, as his enormous meat-rod surged forward to life, causing the twink to run in fear of being pierced on that impaler and not having the chance to tell the tale. He scurried away from the guttural, bass-y moans and thudding occurring in the stall as the virile bull went into a frenzy.

[hikolu]

Qunari in Dragon Age: The Veilguard.

So there is the controversy going around that the qunari look "too human"

I've also heard that there is a degree of what we've seen is just what people have made in the character creator, so it's been their choice to make em smooth and humany.

However I take issue with the "this is such a downgrade compared to previous versions" previously we've almost exclusively seen members of the Antaam the fighting force. In da2 it's literally a dreadnoughts worth of Sten and all the tal vashoth in the area are defectors from that force, so we don't see any variation because... In Inquisition The Iron Bull explains that the tamassrans(sp?) choose who breeds with who and we know that in the Qun you have defined rolls so it makes sense that all the Sten and the Arishok are built like that.

Also in Shinobi's Twitter thread with gameplay we see more "traditionally" built Qunari, who are most likely Sten or similar members of the Antaam. While the Inquisitor and Rook are not part of the Qun, with the Inquisitor explicitly being born outside of it. Being born outside means that it was not the tamassrans making the decision on who their parents are, but an interpersonal decision between their parents.

Tl:Dr we've only ever seen one type of Qunari in the games really, so stop bitching that there is variation to them

[findroleplay]

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ Hello hello! 21+ mun (they/them) looking for STRICTLY 18+ roleplay partners and roleplays. I would prefer to write over discord in a server I create, since I can be a bit picky about it. I'm particularly looking for either fandom OR fandomless roleplays. I write lit to advanced lit (novella but only on occasion), and write in third person ONLY. I will not write in first, sorry!

Some fandoms I would be interested in would include…

House of the Dragon // Game of Thrones // Hazbin Hotel // Legend of Zelda (Breath of the Wild or Tears of the Kingdom specifically) // Dragon Age

For each one, I have some things I'm specifically looking for, and I'll listen them below.

♡ House of the Dragon — CCxCC mostly, however I am open to OCs if they're well developed and make sense. I'd like someone to write against my Rhaenyra, no matter the pairing, relationship, etc. (Preference of a Daemon, Laenor, another Targaryen, Aegon, or Alicent. However any CC welcome!)

♡ Game of Thrones — CCxCC mostly, too, however same as above. OCs welcome if well developed. I'd like to write a few characters, however I focus heavily on the Starks, particularly Sansa, and Daenerys. I'm willing to write against anyone. (No preference, but romance lean ideally.)

♡ Hazbin Hotel — CCxCC mostly, as I'm not fond of OCs for this. I can write a few characters: Charlie, Alastor, Angel Dust, Lucifer, Adam, Lute, Vaggie, and otherwise. Open to all manner of things here. No preference of who to write against, but I've been in the mood to try these characters out or write them again.

♡ BotW / TotK (Legend of Zelda) — CCxCC, not open to OCs for this. Particularly looking to write Zelda, Sidon, or Ganon against a Link. I can also write Link, but that's just not my preference. Open to other options but these are my priority. Also open to do something poly related between the four, but only with some decent development and plotting.

♡ Dragon Age — OCxCC only. OCxOC could work but I'm very selective here. I'd like to write some of my OCs against some canons, but I'm more than willing to write a canon for you in return. Preferences of Alistair, Leliana, or Zevran from Origins, Fenris or Merrill from DA2, and/or Solas, Iron Bull, Blackwall, or Josephine from DAI. (Open to Cole, Cullen, other Hawke's, and a few others.)

As for fandomless, I have a plethora of OCs I'd love to throw at people. For this, I typically like…

♡ Fantasy, pirates, magic systems, solarpunk, apocalyptic (zombies or not) themes, dead dove themes, god/sacrifice, mythological creature/human, found family, medieval themes, historical fiction, war, aliens, modern fantasy, and more. (This is generalized, and can be discussed further.)

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ Some things I'd really really love to include consist of — romance, angst, dead dove themes (we can discuss in private what that looks like), whump/caretaker, reunions, and so on. I'm a big fan of drama, and angst. I'll write multiple threads if I really vibe with someone, especially if we share a few fandoms. I generally shift and headcanon canons with their own identities, so please bear that in mind and be open to queer identities. I'd like to add some smut to this, from anywhere to a 50/50 to 80/20 plot to smut ratio, but that can be discussed. Do not bring me subby/bottoms, I will not only write top/doms. Kinks will be discussed privately. (Open to all manners of ships, mxm, mxf, fxf, anyxnb, poly, etc!)

&&&& I like to make friends with my roleplay partners. I do not ghost/block without good reason, and I refuse to engage with drama. If I have a problem, I voice it. Thanks for reading! If this sounds like it works for you, give a like and I'll reach out!

-

[horizon-verizon]

I think there's a certain irony in the fact that Rhaenicent ended up being the reason why Alicent's character was ruined. In the first season, the writers changed her age, invented a sad backstory, and created a friendship with Rhaenyra, all to make her more of a sympathetic victim. I remember the Team Black never liked this because many of these changes were made at the expense of taking away moments from Rhaenyra or eliminating parts of her story, like her friendship with Laena or her entrance in the black dress, which originally belonged to her in the book.

When Team Black fans voiced their displeasure with these writing choices, warning that they would harm the plot, the Greens (mostly fans of Alicent and Aemond, characters who benefited a lot from these changes in the first season) told them to stop complaining, saying that the show was better for giving more depth to characters who didn’t have much in the book. They claimed that the TB was just angry because their favorites were becoming more likable. In the end, the TB was right. Those changes to Alicent’s character and her friendship with Rhaenyra ultimately harmed not only her character but all the Greens characters as well. Which, in my opinion, is pretty ironic.

Absolutely. People on TB, inclu myself, were not really, expressly concerned w/Alicent's characterization for her own sake I will admit that. At the same time, they/we preferred Alicent to act with the agency she displayed in the actual story and grew more and more disgusted with the disengenuous righteousness of portraying Rhaenyra as "spoiled" to Alicent's "dutifulness", which worked to be a disservice to both women. Their relationship and the dichotomy, even for the change for best friends turned enemies they created wasn't even given the proper development or "explanation" on the friendship side that it should have. You can also look at my earliest hastagged "alicent's characterization" posts where I and others complain & criticize Alicent's character of season 1 for more.

TG has often, for a few years, relied on the whole "complex character" bull crap, and I wrote a Twitter thread back in June abt why/how they use the word. Often enough, though, we call a character(s) "complex" bc they suffer to a degree or type excessively and/or for a sustained amount of time; that is because with suffering, people can tend to build up varied coping mechanisms & defenses that could lead them into self/outer(ly) destructive places. And these can drive a story forward, as the greens provide the central conflict of the Dance/succession crises by being the ones plotting/usurping Rhaenyra. The consequences of their reasoning affects their own relationships with each other as well as their supporters. The greens' shitck is that they are just wrong, both for the sexism and how they think their rulership means for the rest of the realm's lords.

But:

the greens are still pretty static with how the show is written; bc of their goal and how they grew up, they do not have a positive character development...it's more of a constant revealing action from their potential for violence

not all complex characters are credited as such in fandoms bc a lot, or the most vocal, of the audience thinks that character is too unlikeable to really explore or credit their motives as worthy of some grace so much as how it may affect them alone if it was in real life, as to create their own blindspots

a character like Daenerys Stormborn, who is pretty morally sound gets reduced to a future-mad-girl who killed poor slave masters, and her actual psychological journey gets misinterpreted--purposeful and not-so-much--and dismissed...this girl has one of the most complex characterizations in literature/media. Her feelings about leadership formed from her experiences and pondering over the relationship b/t a leader and those they lead, small concessions of the heart for intimacy or big ones for safety, how she thinks of her family's recent and longer history and legacy living through her, her emotional maturity overlapping with many signs of her temper and compassion, etc. Her campaign to kill the masters vs her desire to re-conquer Westeros bc of said relationship and the redefinitions of "duty" and love (love for her people and humanity, what is such a thing and how to realize that?). So "complex" doesn't always mean "morally questionable".

Don't get me wrong, I love me some toxicity or some sort of non-ordinary challenge/high stakes in my fiction. Most of my stuff are, and many provide me with catharsis when it is characters developing healthier ways of community, communication, romance, whatever. I also find catharsis when things don't work out so nice, like Claudia's fate in Interview with the Vampire--not bc I hated her, bc she's actually my favorite--bc the story validates the tragedy/horror/sadness's large significance, motivation, or presence in a human's experience under a safe environment (your couch, etc.), thus affirming a fuller sense of one's "humanity". While still thrilling. Claudia was doomed bc she was a child amongst adults who used her to force bonds between themselves and she was forced to become a monster herself to survive. And was punished for that. I love characters toeing the line between grotesque and safe--it's an adventure.