#alistair dusk

[speedysart]

Auror & Professor Alistair

After doing Damian it tingled in my fingers to draw his bother too, and the very first time in the Auror uniform! His usual attire as a professor later wasn’t new, just got tiny changes. It was great fun to make my own design for the Auror uniform :3

Alistair would pursue the path as an Auror after graduation. With his ability of ancient magic and the enhancement of protection spells of any kind he was often in close work with Azkaban or the capture of dangerous wizards. This job made him many enemies. After an frightening event he quits the job in order to not put his family, at the time being just his husband, at risk.

Instead he takes on the position of the teacher for Magical theory as Professor Fig finally resigns and gets to live his life in peace and quiet. Alistair was a respected teacher and students looked up to him as he is a strict, but fair teacher.

[yoshitsuno]

Damian & Alistair Dusk (commission)

AAAAAHHHHHH finally I drew them ! FINALLY ! I was so honoured to draw @speedysart 's characters, especially Damian who shares some headcanons with my ravenclaw girl Alice ! Thank you so much for letting me drawing them !!! I love them and Love you ! 💕

[speedysart]

AHHH!! Look at all the pookies!! And my pretty boy is there too 😭😭💙 It looks really so amazing!! And a real surprise 🤌

A Ravenclaw Lunch 🦅

Drew some of my favorite Ravenclaws on this platform. Although one isn't necessarily a Ravenclaw. (@traceyc-uk I genuinely thought he was a Ravenclaw when I first saw him lol but I saw your comment reply somewhere that your first playthrough was Ravenclaw so I think this counts… a bit? 😂)

This post is basically a peace offering (and a love letter) bcs I want to make more Ravenclaw friends 👀👉🏻👈🏻 definitely not because I'm obsessed with you guys' MCs

I swear it was supposed to be a silly doodle at first but idk how or when down the line but somehow it turned into this mega drawing. Took me weeks to finish it. I’m not happy with a few technical things especially lights and shadows… and some other things as well but I leave it be bcs I’m aware that I’m still learning 🥲 The rest I’m pretty satisfied with, I’m just happy that I got to finally finish this.

Front row (left to right):

Violet and Pearl Castellar by @vienguinn Omg HAPPY BELATED BELATED BIRTHDAY TO THESE BABIES! These 2 are some of my favorites and everytime you post I always open my phone real quick, your short comics are my comfort 🩵

Clora Clemons by @choccy-milky I cannot not draw Clora?!!?! I consider you a legend in this fandom tbh 👑 also I want to thank you bcs your fic and illustrations literally helped me go through my stressful period when I was at my lowest bcs of my new demanding job that I started half a year ago. I look forward to your post everytime and your Clora and Seb always heals my soul 😭🩵💚

Sally Salamander by @siboom777 Sally is just so wacky and unapologetically herself and I love her for it 🩵 Does she take commissions for toys tho?

Marvin Jerry by @runicxraven MY LOVELY SILLY ADORABLE LITTLE NERD 💗💗💗💗 I need more Marvin in my life honestly.

@najiang ‘s MC - I’m so so sorry I didn’t draw her full face😭, I tried my best to show her face as much as I can while still looking like she’s taking those sausages haha. But anyway please know that I love your art so so much and I kept going back to the curry one and the one where MC came across Amit with beard as adults (that one is hilarious). Idk if your MC has a name or you left it nameless? I assume it was the latter but if she has one I’d love to know!

Faustine Daemon by @faustinio27 Hey, a fellow INFJ! Winter is the same 🩵 I really love her story and especially her personality character sheet, you drew her expressions really well and I’m a fan!

Back row (left to right):

Oliver Lennox by @pixie-dustss Handsome boi 🥰 We’re friends already (I hope I’m not the only one who thinks that way 🫢) from TikTok and you made me a video for Secret Santa last year and I just found out recently that you’re on Tumblr too so I want to say thanks by drawing Oliver! 🩵🩵🩵

Aurélie Collins by @morelikeravenbore I loove this look for Aura, she just looks so chic with the hat and scarf 😭🩵 Sassy Ravenclaw bebe 🥰 My Winter has some French heritage (the lore is still rotting in my notebook bcs I haven’t had the chance to draw her family members 🥲) so I do hope they can be friends and Aura would teach her French bcs she can’t speak much of it 👉🏻👈🏻

Alistair Dusk by @speedysart Surprise! You commented on my last speedpaint on Tiktok yesterday and I want to spill this art so bad but I was almost done so I kept my mouth shut haha. I love the pretty boi’s hair and piercings, and the fact that you chose this blazer for him, I just love it he looks so dapper in that 😣🩵

Eleonora Russel by @zordanna I love sweet Eleonora and her fascination with the moon and stars 🩵🌌 Oh and I kept coming back to your “I feel like an orange” Tiktok bcs it’s so fluffy and it heals my stress… also I adore your art it’s super soft and painty and delicate 🥹💗

@traceyc-uk ‘s MC - YOUR MC. I SWEAR TO MERLIN HE’S ON MY MIND 24/7 LATELY. Not sure why, it’s probably bcs I kept re-reading your comics. Also bcs he’s an adorable little golden retriever (but also a fierce cat!😼) You’re super talented in drawing comics and facial expressions, I have a lot to learn especially in terms of layouting… last time I made a comic I hated the layout and the fact that it looks stiff to me, so your comics has been such an inspiration!

[kat-nevayra]

Behold! I made a lineup chart for all the major characters of my stories/world:

I wanted to have a reference for various characters' heights, especially since not all characters had set heights specifically. This helped me give everyone a certain height, as well as a place to compare them to each other. Furthermore, it's just a nice way to see what all of my characters look like in one place!

I'll put divided closeups under the cut:

Here's all the main characters of my main story (series title still a work in progress lol):

Next, there's the main characters of The Thief of Dusk:

And finally, we have the leaders of the Four Empires of Areth, the most powerful royals in all the world:

That is all :))

[nekoandfriends]

Inspired by this post:

[f4iryt3a]

Reflections in the Water - Alistair*Warden (+18)

Warning : Explicit | This is a gift for Domi_nolife (a friend) ♡

--

The clearing stretched out peacefully, bathed in the soft light of dusk. The constant roar of the waterfall dominated the space, a soothing sound that strangely contrasted with the chaos that had reigned earlier. The air still carried the metallic scent of blood, mingled with the damp earth and crushed leaves. Alistair stepped forward cautiously, skirting the sparse trees bordering the area, his boots pressing into the mossy ground.

He had left the main camp under the pretense of scouting the area, but in truth, he needed solitude. The battle had been harsh, exhausting, and though they had emerged victorious, the adrenaline was fading, replaced by a heavy weariness. His shirt, stained and torn, clung to his damp skin, while his sword hung limply at his side.

As he approached, he welcomed the coolness, the moisture in the air saturating his senses. The waterfall's rumble was almost hypnotic, drowning out his thoughts. But it wasn’t the sound or the beauty of the falls that caught his attention as he emerged from the trees.

She was there.

Beneath the silvery curtain of water, her silhouette stood out with an almost startling clarity. Her movements were slow, deliberate, as she washed away the dust and blood that had accumulated throughout the day. She didn’t seem to notice his presence, too focused on her task—or perhaps simply confident she was alone.

Alistair froze, his breath caught in his throat. His eyes roamed over every detail of the scene, capturing the image as if it were a dream. The twilight’s light, filtering through the trees, danced on the water, casting shadows and reflections across her bare skin. Droplets sparkled like fleeting stars, accentuating the curves of her body in a way that was both subtle and striking.

His mind wrestled with conflicting emotions. The exhaustion and pain of the day melted away, replaced by a sudden heat, an irresistible yearning he could scarcely name. But alongside it was hesitation—a mix of respect and doubt. Did he have the right to intrude on this moment?

And yet, he couldn’t look away. She was breathtaking, but it wasn’t merely her physical beauty. It was her serenity, the way she seemed in harmony with this moment, as if the waterfall was enveloping her entirely, cleansing more than just her body—her doubts, her fears, the horrors of the battle.

Alistair took a deep breath and briefly averted his gaze, trying to convince himself he needed to leave. He had no right to stay there, hidden like a thief. But as he took a step back, a branch snapped beneath his foot.

She turned her head sharply, her eyes meeting his through the veil of cascading water.

Alistair felt his heart skip a beat. For a fleeting moment, he braced himself for an outraged reaction—a righteous anger he wouldn’t have blamed her for. But instead, a slow smile spread across her lips. That smile—playful, knowing, almost provocative—was enough to erase any trace of guilt lingering within him.

She didn’t move, didn’t try to shield her nudity. On the contrary, she remained beneath the waterfall, her hands continuing their gentle glide along her arms, as though his presence was neither surprising nor unwelcome. Alistair found himself utterly disarmed, caught between the urge to apologise and the irresistible desire to stay.

"Are you planning to stand there all evening ?" she teased, her voice playful and carried by the roar of the water.

He felt a flush creep up his neck, a familiar reaction he could never quite suppress. He hesitated, opening his mouth to respond, but no words came. It was she who broke the silence.

"You’re covered in blood" she remarked, tilting her head slightly "You should join me and wash up."

It was an invitation, gentle but unmistakable. A grin tugged at the corners of his lips, and for the first time in hours, his shoulders relaxed. Alistair had never been particularly good at resisting temptation, especially when it came from her.

Slowly, he began undoing the buckles of his belt, sliding off his sword and sheath to lean them carefully against a nearby tree. His hands moved to the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head and revealing skin marked with fresh cuts and bruises. His eyes never left hers, and she didn’t look away either.

Finally free of his clothes, he stepped toward the pool, the cool water lapping at his legs and gradually climbing to his hips. The sound of the cascade grew louder as he approached, its silvery curtain forming a moving barrier between them.

The moment he stepped beneath the falling water, the world seemed to shrink, leaving only the two of them.

The icy water of the cascade streamed over Alistair, awakening every nerve in his body with a sharp, almost painful intensity. The biting cold was a stark contrast to the warmth blossoming within him every time their eyes met.

She stood before him, the water cascading over her shoulders and down her back, her dark locks plastered against her skin. Under the filtered light, she seemed otherworldly, almost ethereal. Alistair stepped closer, each movement making him acutely aware of their solitude, the murmuring of nature around them, and the strange intimacy of the moment they shared.

"You’re scaring the fish" she teased, breaking the silence with a playful smile.

He chuckled softly, his laugh nearly swallowed by the roar of the waterfall "I doubt there are any left with all this racket" he replied, nodding toward the thundering cascade.

Despite the levity of their exchange, he could feel the undercurrent of tension. Every glance, every motion carried an electric charge, an unspoken promise hanging between them. The water made their movements slow, almost hypnotic, as if time itself had paused to give them this stolen moment.

He raised a hand, hesitating only briefly, and brushed away a strand of her wet hair that had fallen across her face. She didn’t flinch, her deep brown eyes locked on his with an intensity that stole his breath. Alistair had never been skilled at hiding his emotions, and he knew that everything he felt—admiration, desire, vulnerability—was written plainly across his face.

"You’re... incredible" he murmured at last, his voice nearly lost in the waterfall’s roar.

She rolled her eyes, but he noticed the faint flush of pink blooming in her cheeks "You’re an idiot" she replied softly, though her smile betrayed her words.

The water continued to cascade around them, making every touch more vibrant, every shiver more intense. When he placed a hand on her shoulder, her skin felt cool and smooth, a striking contrast to his, still bearing the heat and grit of battle. She didn’t pull away; instead, she placed her hand over his, tracing her fingers gently over the fresh scars marking his knuckles.

"You always get hurt too easily" she murmured, almost to herself.

"It’s what I’m made for" he replied with a wry smile, though his words carried a quiet weariness.

She lifted her eyes to him, and a wave of warmth swept through him once again. This was more than mere physical attraction. It was her—completely her—that he desired: her courage, her strength, the way she looked at him as if he were more than just a man.

Without further thought, he leaned in, the water forming a translucent veil between their faces. His lips brushed her cheek first, testing gently, before finding hers. The initial contact was soft, almost hesitant, as if they were rediscovering each other despite everything they had endured together.

But the kiss quickly deepened, growing more certain. His hands slid down her arms, then found her waist, pulling her against him. Water cascaded between their bodies, heightening the sensation rather than diminishing it. Her fingers clung to his shoulders, seeking an anchor as the world around them seemed to dissolve.

Alistair felt his breath quicken, his heart racing faster than in any battle. In that precise moment, with the cascade isolating them from the rest of the world, there was nothing else but her. Just the two of them.

The water running over his skin felt like sharp, electric caresses, yet it was nothing compared to the heat radiating from their bodies—united, breaths mingling, sharing a closeness that defied words. Everything around them faded; the roar of the waterfall became a shroud, muffling the outside world, cocooning their intimacy.

His broad, sure hands moved to her hips, sliding slowly up her sides. Water trickled between his fingers, but he paid it no mind. Every curve, every shiver beneath his touch etched itself into his memory. His lips, warm and insistent, found the hollow of her neck, kissing her damp skin with a tenderness tinged with raw desire.

She responded with equal passion, her hands tracing burning lines across his back. Her fingers brushed over the scars etched there—memories of past battles—but here, beneath the waterfall, all of it seemed so far away. It was just him, with his strength and vulnerability, and her, with her warmth and courage.

"You’re beautiful" he murmured, his voice low and rough as his lips brushed hers again, the kiss both tender and filled with a promise of intensity.

She answered by pressing herself closer to him, her movements deliberate yet unhurried. Alistair felt the tension in his muscles melt away, replaced by a total surrender to the moment. Their movements were natural, fluid, like a dance guided by their shared desires.

When he lifted her slightly, bracing her against the rocky wall behind the cascade, she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him even closer. The water cascading over their bodies seemed to amplify every sensation, making each touch more vivid, each shiver that ran across her skin mirrored in him. Every muffled gasp was lost in the roaring waterfall, drawing them closer still.

Alistair paused for a moment, his gaze locking with hers. Her eyes shone with a soft, almost otherworldly light beneath the cascade. He wanted to be sure she was okay, that every move was shared, mutual, and desired.

"Are you sure ?" he asked, his voice barely audible but brimming with tenderness.

She answered by placing a hand on his cheek, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw "I’ve never been more sure of anything."

That was all he needed. He kissed her again, deeply, his movements growing more confident.

The future Ferelden’s king tightened his grip on her hips, his hands strong yet gentle. The cool stone wall behind her was a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from him. The water streamed around them, making their skin slick and every touch between them even more pronounced.

Alistair shifted his hips slightly, adjusting their position. Her already heightened sensitivity felt the electric contact of his hardness, hot and unyielding. The sensation sent a shiver racing up her spine, her breath catching for a moment. She closed her eyes, biting her lower lip to stifle a moan.

The water complicated their movements, its slippery touch teasing and irregular, only serving to heighten her desire. She felt every glide, every calculated movement of his hips, stirring an impatience within her that was becoming harder to contain.

"A-Alistair..." she murmured, her voice a blend of plea and frustration, her breath coming in short bursts.

But he smiled softly, his expression tender yet teasing "Patience" he replied, his voice rough, nearly breaking under the weight of his own desire.

He continued to tease her, brushing her slick entrance with the tip of his hardness, applying just enough pressure to make her arch against him. Every movement, every touch, seemed designed to test her limits, to bring her to the edge without letting her tumble over completely.

She could feel her own desire, hot and insistent, mingling with the water flowing around them. The sensation was almost too much to bear—the wetness, the cold water contrasting sharply with her inner heat, and the growing impatience burning within her. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her nails pressing lightly into his skin.

“You’re doing this on purpose…” she breathed, her voice a mix of exasperation and laughter, her cheeks flushed with desire.

He chuckled softly, his warm breath ghosting against her ear “Maybe a little… but only because you’re so cute when you lose patience.”

At last, Alistair slowed his movements, aligning his body with hers with deliberate care. When he entered her for the first time, it was with an intentional slowness, almost reverent. The sensation made her arch against the stone wall, her lips parting as a moan escaped, no longer able to contain it.

The water continued to cascade between them, making their movements smooth but elusive, as though each moment forced them to readjust, to savour the experience more deeply. Attentive, Alistair murmured to her softly “Are you alright ? Am I hurting you ?”

She nodded, her eyes bright, a trembling smile gracing her lips “No… it’s perfect.”

The coolness of the water trickling over their bodies heightened every sensation, making each movement even more electrifying. He paused for a moment, his eyes locked on hers, silently seeking her consent. His hand caressed her hip gently, his fingers gliding over her damp skin, as she nodded softly, her gaze alight with longing.

He began to move slowly, each roll of his hips measured, as though he wanted to savour every second. His motions carried a tenderness that didn’t hide the depth of his desire. He wanted to remember every sigh, every shiver that coursed through her body in response to his touch.

The Warden arched slightly against the stone wall, her hands clutching his shoulders as if she feared losing herself in the overwhelming tide of sensations. Her lips trembled with the effort to stifle her moans, but the growing intensity of his caresses and movements pushed her ever closer to her limits.

Alistair, despite his measured movements, felt the tension building within him, barely restrained. Each thrust awakened a hunger he struggled to contain. His forehead rested momentarily against her shoulder, his warm breath ghosting over her skin as he murmured "I want this to be perfect for you…"

But she didn’t want restraint, not now. Her nails raked down his back, leaving trails of pleasure, and she whispered in a trembling voice "Then stop holding back…"

Those words seemed to shatter the chains of his patience. His hand slid to her hip, gripping her with more intensity, while his other hand braced firmly against the wall to steady their movements. He quickened his pace, his hips colliding with hers with growing fervour.

The moans she had so desperately tried to stifle became harder to contain. She bit her lip, attempting to maintain some semblance of control, but each thrust, each deeper stroke, pushed her closer to complete surrender. Her nails dug into his skin, leaving red marks, as she tilted her head back, her eyes half-closed in bliss.

Alistair let out a low growl, a mixture of pleasure and exertion, his muscles taut under the strain of their movements. His hips met hers with an almost primal rhythm, every motion drawing a sigh or a moan from them both.

The water continued to cascade around them, making their bodies slick, heightening every sensation. Each thrust was more intense, more forceful, his ragged breaths blending with hers as they lost themselves in each other.

His hand on her hip slipped slightly, gripping her waist to adjust their position, anchoring her more firmly against him. His words became husky murmurs, barely audible between their gasps "You’re incredible… so beautiful… so perfect…"

She answered with a muffled moan, her body trembling from the pleasure he was giving her. Each powerful stroke made her arch further against the wall, the roughness of the stone amplifying the rawness of their union. She was aware of their vulnerability here, that someone could discover them, but that only made each moment more exhilarating, more charged.

Alistair, seeing her pleasure, leaned in to capture her lips, nipping them gently before murmuring against them "I want to hear you… don’t hold back."

At those words, she let go of her final inhibitions, allowing her moans to spill out, resonating in the space around them, drowned out only by the roar of the waterfall.

Their movements grew increasingly chaotic, driven by the thrill of the moment. The Warden, pinned against the stone wall, could feel every taut muscle in Alistair’s body, every thrust deeper, more intense. She clung to him, her arms wrapped around his neck, her legs still locked around his waist, as the tide of her own pleasure rose within her, unstoppable and consuming.

When the tension reached its peak, she let go. Her body arched against his, a moan escaping her lips, unrestrained this time. Her head fell back against the wall, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she reached her climax, waves of shivers coursing through her body.

The sight of her pleasure, the sound of her surrender, broke the last of Alistair’s restraint. Feeling his own release approaching, he quickened his movements, each thrust more urgent. His groans and ragged breaths matched their rhythm, his muscles trembling with exertion and desire.

In one final surge, a deep growl escaped him, his face buried in the curve of her neck as he, too, reached his climax. His movements slowed, though he remained pressed against her, their ragged breaths mingling, their bodies trembling from the sheer intensity of the shared moment.

Silence gradually enveloped them, broken only by the constant sound of water cascading over their bodies. Alistair, still slightly breathless, lifted his head to meet her gaze. His eyes glimmered, filled with boundless tenderness, and a soft smile curved his lips.

"Are you… all right ?" he murmured gently, his forehead resting against hers.

She nodded, a small, nervous yet satisfied laugh escaping her lips "More than all right… You’re amazing."

A bashful smile crossed his face, but he leaned in to kiss her softly, his lips capturing hers in a kiss no longer driven by primal desire but by pure love.

His hands slid down to her hips, still supporting her, before he carefully set her back on her feet. The Warden wobbled slightly, and he quickly caught her, a quiet laugh rumbling from his chest "I think I’ll have to carry you back to camp."

She rolled her eyes with a smile, placing a hand on his chest "Stop it, or I’ll leave you here on your own."

He shrugged playfully "Too late, I’m yours."

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies still trembling, but their hearts light. The water continued to flow around them, yet everything felt quieter, more serene. Alistair ran a hand through his wet hair, looking at her as though she were the most precious thing in the world.

"Maybe we should head back before someone starts wondering where we’ve gone..." he murmured, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.

She nodded, but before moving, she placed a hand on his cheek, her fingers gently tracing the contours of his face. "Thank you, Alistair."

He frowned slightly, curious "Thank you for what?"

"For loving me the way you do."

His smile widened, and he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead "I don’t know how to love any other way."

Hand in hand, they left the cascade, carrying with them not just the satisfaction of their union, but the undeniable depth of a love they both knew was truly one of a kind.

--

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[ghoulsbeard]

The evening is crisp and cold with the first frost of winter, and heavy with woodsmoke all around. The dogs lope happily after his heels, whining and dancing to be petted. Sev catches each of them, one by one, to scratch between their ears and let them lick his hands.

From dawn to dusk it had all passed like a bad dream.

Insultingly fair weather, after weeks of Fereldan rain: pale undrowned sunlight, streams filled with fish. A ringing in his bones, blight between his teeth, fire seeping under the skin. Thirty years, give or take, Alistair had said, if he was lucky. It's barely been ten.

Maybe, he'd thought at noonday, knee-deep in river water, I won't tell him.

When he'd first drunk the cup there came a clawing and a ravening that Alistair said would never leave him. Now he was ravenous again, as badly as the Roads where he'd drained every living reserve he had, and felt the second pulse thrumming counterpoint to his heartbeat. He'd had his breakfast that morning and stared at the empty bowl and thought for the first time in years of Old souls, and the deep places, and the song under the world calling him almost by name.

Like lyrium-madness, he'd once thought, many years ago; a Circler who had nothing worse to compare.

The dogs snuffle sadly at his feet. He scratches each of their heads again and picks past the garden to the front of the house, where his husband is sat on their stoop, grinding duileasc in the pestle.

His heart catches in his throat. That, too, hasn't happened in years. But out of nowhere he recalls the first time he taught Niall to peel parsnips-- what a bloody butchery he'd made of it-- how pleased he'd been to do something with his hands besides spells and wards. They'd been foraging at the edge of Síomhaith's land, then, and mucked after her cows for bed and board.

Niall's humming under his breath, but lets off when Sev lowers himself down on the stoop to stretch his legs and grumble at his joints. "You haven't been hexing young Sean again."

"Hmm?"

One finger pushes gently at his brow. Sev hadn't realized he'd been scowling. "Ah."

He looks down the hills to the farmholds in the river valley, fires and lantern-lights. The wind is rising through the trees. He can hear the blight singing in their branches.

"Today I've heard it."

"Heard what?"

"The-"

"You mean," says Niall. His mortar clatters into the pestle. "You-- wasn't--"

"I don't know," says Sev, hating each word.

"I thought-"

"Yes." Blood was blood. Curses were curses. An archdemon might call and be ignored. It was tedious to peel back blight poisoning, but it wasn't impossible. He'd made the Peak his life for the better part of a decade, read as widely as the Collective provided; hoped to find another maleficar who knew blight as he did. Gambled on having a little more time, is what he'd done. Got comfortable playing house.

Niall is staring at him like he's seen a ghast. He looks oddly young, or more likely Sev is feeling his age. He puts a hand to Sev's face, and makes an awful noise when Sev leans into it.

"I am sorry."

"No, no. It..." He sighs a long grumbling bit of nothing. Ah, he's angry-- his hands shake when he's really angry, and he loses a few words, like he's lost them now. "It isn't any doing of yours."

Sev slouches down the stoop to put his head on his husband's shoulder and feel his arm around his neck. The little red circle of sun plunges past the dark mantle of the wilderlands. Posy comes up, nudging his knee, to curl between his legs like she's still a puppy. He shuts his eyes and listens to three hearts beating.

"Surana must've felt it, then," says Niall, after the night air has turned from brisk to properly cold, and their breath's puffing out in white clouds. "She took the oath the same year."

Not his Lia. Brave and clever and full of plans; too young to die, certainly not to the damned taint. He wants to be furious on her behalf; he used to be excellent at fury. All he can summon is the marching song of the 'spawn and a bleakness as wide as the world.

He could be harsh, easily; he's goaded himself for years, he could be cruel if he pleased— take the form of a loping hound, run the highlands to Jader; but his husband wouldn’t like it. Wearily he steps outside of his head and forces the bleakness back ell by ell. Marvels, a moment, that he can bear to do it at all.

"If she walks tonight, I'll ask."

"You'll stay with me until she does."

The worst of it is there are weeks of the Fifth Blight that he cannot clearly recall. Long stretches of unlife, undeath, dreams he dreamed in the company of the horde. He recalls the maggoty taste of blight-essence as fed by Ferelden, and blood-thick arteries beginning to cool, and Liathari's mind melting into his own. The calling is the last piece. Like those who died in the gangue of the fallen Roads. Join us, shadows; be remembered here... sleep in the vein of the world.

Precious few set foot inside the Weisshaupt libraries; they'd never admit a deserter, and he never learned to sneak. Liathari went north. She never breathed a word of it, but he knows she went north. Perhaps...

"Yes," he startles out of his thoughts; Niall has a death grip on his hand. "Yes. Until she walks."

"And I won't be slitting your throat, unless we come to that."

"...Very well." He had been thinking of his will. The perils of being a predictable old fool. He lifts his head; the lantern at their door beams warmly over Niall's worried face. He is the most beautiful thing in the world. Sev touches his chin. "There's grey in your beard."

"There is not." Niall lurches to his feet, pattering inside for the tiny shaving-glass they keep above the hearth. Sev bites his cheek against laughter.

"Very handsome," he says to Posy, who heaves a long dog-sigh, and licks his pants.

Niall swears just below a screech. "Flaming Maker, I've gone grey."

"Beautiful man," Sev thunders over his shoulder. "Come back and be kissed."

"I won't let you kiss this face. Where are the shears?"

"What a curse is vanity."

"Go to the Void. Where did we put them?"

Sev laughs past the lump in his throat. Milly and Barley come trotting out of the house to lick his hands and whine, woundedly, for their supper. "The shears are for sheep, and you are more handsome than you have ever been, Niallán."

Another string of curses. Barley pelts off after a rustling in the brush. Four decades living and breathing; nearly three of them spent with the man who is presently butchering his beard on a pair of sheep-shears. You're a fool, he thinks, you've become weak and stupid, and you think you're owed something for it. He buries his face in Posy's short fur and cries.

[ethercvl]

closed starter for @shvdwscng ( alistair )

since   her   last   conversation   with   the   day   commander   josefina   had   learned   of   the   meeting   between   her   high   lord   and   that   of   the   dusk   court.   while   she   knew   of   the   two   having   met   she   wasn't   fully   aware   of   what   was   happening   between   the   two   of   them.   from   what   she   had   heard   of   the   dusk   high   lord   he   was   not   about   trying   to   keep   walls   up.   a   hope   that   whatever   came   out   of   the   conversation   between   the   two   high   lords   was   something   of   a   positive   relationship.   the   spring   commander   walking   the   garden's   in   her   costume   as   she   spotted   the   day   commander   ahead   of   her.   "alistair,   has   your   high   lord   had   the   chance   to   meet   with   the   dusk   high   lord?"

[gayelderstourney]

Bracket Be Upon Ye

This was really hard to seed because I know half of them will be eliminated round 1 but I don't really want any of them to lose lol. I ended up deciding to dedicate entire quarters to (mostly) yaoi or (mostly) yuri, with yaoi and yuri only going up against each other starting in the semifinals. This is just because most of the yaoi pairings are more popular and if I seeded solely on popularity most of the yuri would be eliminated immediately.

(I'm not trying to misgender Raine, and I'm not gonna label that specific pairing "yaoi" or "yuri"; it's just their partner is a woman and there's no easy way to split up the contestants otherwise.)

Round 1 on the left side will start Sunday, July 23. Matches will start being posted at 10:00 AM CST (15:00 UTC) and last for a week. Right side will be next week after the left side concludes.

[Image description: A 32-contestant tournament bracket labeled "old man yaoi + old woman yuri bracket!" with multiple exclamation marks. The background is a pink and lavender gradient. The matchups are as listed below. End ID.]

Hemithea/Josephine (Percy Jackson) vs. Grace Hanson/Frankie Bergstein (Grace and Frankie)

Gertrude Robinson/Agnes Montague (The Magnus Archives) vs. Buddy Aurinko/Vespa Ilkay (Penumbra Podcast)

Red/Blue (This is How You Lose the Time War) vs. Arcee/Aileron (Transformers)

Ms. Bitters/Countess von Verminstrasser (Invader Zim) vs. Miriam Forcible/April Spink (Coraline)

Gerald Robotnik/Black Doom (Sonic the Hedgehog) vs. Sheo/The Nailsmith (Hollow Knight)

Jean-Luc Picard/Q (Star Trek) vs. The Once-ler/The Lorax (Lorax 2012)

Ilya Tchaiko/Seichirou Agawa (Our Dreams At Dusk) vs. Heavy/Medic (Team Fortress 2)

Dr. Coomer/Bubby (Half Life VR But The Ai Is Self Aware) vs. Statler/Waldorf (The Muppets)

May Parker/Olivia Octavius (Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse) vs. Aunt Holiday/Auntie Lofty (My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic)

Raven Darkholme/Irene Adler (Marvel) vs. Maggie Radcliffe/Jocelyn Knight (Broadchurch)

Hanayo Nishida/Yoshiko Dojima (Hanamonogatari) vs. Navani Kholin/Raboniel (The Stormlight Archive)

Kelly/Yorkie (Black Mirror) vs. Eda Clawthorne/Raine Whispers (The Owl House)

Sir Alistair Hammerlock/Wainwright Jakobs (Borderlands) vs. Irving Bailiff/Burt Goodman (Severance)

Jean Valjean/Javert (Les Miserables) vs. Ravenpaw/Barley (Warriors)

Fiddleford McGucket/Stanford Pines (Gravity Falls) vs. Xehanort/Eraqus (Kingdom Hearts)

Bob Zanotto/Helmut Fullbear (Psychonauts) vs. Craig Cuttlefish/DJ Octavio (Splatoon)

[shvdwscng]

STATUS : CLOSED ⟳ @ethercvl ;; adelaide

it  had  not  taken  long  for  the  commander  to  find  his  sister  and  the  spymaster  of  the  day  court,  after  he  had  accounted  for  the  asters  he  had  been  as  quick  to  track  down  his  sister.  addie  was  far  than  capable  of  taking  careful  of  herself  but  an  elder  brother's  worries  did  not  cease,  especially  not  for  alistair  who  was  known  to  be  too  overprotective  of  her.  he  was  also  certain  those  were  the  moments  he  annoyed  her,  and  their  younger  brother.  once  they  had  all  settled  into  the  rooms  they  were  given,  he  had  been  spending  time  with  his  sister,  learning  what  they  could  of  this  court  and  it's  inhabitants.  it  was  hard  to  imagine  a  week  had  gone  by  since  they  were  dropped  into  this  mysterious  court,  but  alistair  ceased  worrying  too  much  because  his  loved  ones  were  safe  and  furthermore,  the  dusk  faes  had  not  attempted  to  harm  them.  he  and  his  sister  were  currently  making  their  way  through  the  grounds  of  the  palace,  alistair's  gaze  flickering  between  their  path  and  the  flying  dragons  above  them.  "have  you  had  a  chance  to  speak  to  any  of  them?"  the  commander  had  not  yet,  but  he  intended  to  change  that.

[historia-vitae-magistras]

lol Alistair and Rhys out swinging swords at ghosts and looking like a couple of nutters to the untrained eye. Do you still have the fic or maybe it was an ask about chonklet deluxe being held by a horrifying wraith and screaming like the damned?

A little bit! And it was initially an ask. This fic is brand spanking new because I forgot how cool of an idea that shitpost actually was if I took it seriously. Please be warned that this fic is gory and involves child endangerment, a bastardization of mythological creatures and just general violence. Also here on ao3.

Rural Lancashire, 1590

Dusk draped heavily over the world as the last light of day darkened into a thick grey. Arthur had ducked out the door to catch the midwife as she crossed his property on foot. If he was quick, he could often walk her as far as the edge of the village and consult her on whatever it was Alfred had done now. Teething, his first words, the seizures that had gripped him last spring, croup, the rare occasion Alfred was ever colicky. She was a steely woman with hair to match and indulged him at least, giving the best advice she had after decades of bringing children into the world. He'd hardly paid attention to the labours of women, and children so often died that there was rarely time to pay them any heed as they went from the cradle to the casket so quickly.

He had turned back to make his usual beeline for the house, pushing past and between the square hedges and sprawling kitchen garden. Some of the stronger-smelling herbs must have been finally in season; there was a reek Arthur couldn't quite identify. He had hardly cleared the fence when he heard Alfred's usual cry, demanding attention. The baby was a social thing, as personable as Rhys or Brighid and twice as bold about his want of company. He didn't like waking alone, wrapped up cozy in the cradle or otherwise.

Another sound, shrill and high. This one sent a spike of anxiety through Arthur's spine. He paused for the shortest moment. Then he was moving. That was not the cry of a baby who was lonely or wanted to be picked up. That was a terrified howl from his boy. He shot into the house, through the atrium, up the stairs, and into the nursery. Heaving, he flung open the heavy oak door. The smell was there again. The figure of a woman stood in relief against the low fire, Alfred cradled in her arms and screaming. For a stupid, foolish moment, he hoped it was the scullery girl he had told to mind the baby should he begin crying. But the smell. He took a step forward. At a new angle, he could see rotten eyes staring at his son, a cheek missing to decay and teeth gleaming through the gap.

"Baby." Came the garbled sound from long-dead vocal cords.

"You do not belong in this realm," Arthur said, cooly gesturing for her to hand him the child. His guts churned, bile in his throat. The revenants were often as confused as they were disgusting, pulling themselves out of whatever corner they had died and remained undiscovered. "Give me the child."

The Revenant turned to him. "Mine."

"You do not belong in this realm," Arthur said again, gesturing to Alfred again. He was losing patience with fear, the ceaseless screaming from Alfred turning into a hopeless, frightened sob. She tilted her head, and it fell limply to her shoulder, tendons snapping on the other side. She lifted one hand to push it back onto her neck, and he saw her hand for a moment in the light. Her fingers were torn freshly away. Oh, good Christ, this one had crawled out of her grave as they sometimes did when there was an infant's ceaseless crying above them. But Alfred had never stepped foot in the churchyard, and it was nearly a mile and a half away in the village.

"Rhys!" Arthur screamed, praying to god his brother was in the house and not out in the lambing pens.

The woman transferred Alfred almost tenderly to one arm and lunged at him, hand outstretched and her rotting jaw open. It couldn't close and Arthur couldn't hit her; Alfred was a heavy child and would fall to the floor as a leaden weight, and his soft little body would smash. Arthur was cold. Alfred was still crying.

"Give me my fucking son." He lunged, snatching at her arm. A layer of grey slime came away, and he retched even as he got fingers wrapped into the swaddling nearest Alfred's feet. He was suddenly wrestling a corpse, each of them struggling to get their hands on the blanket. One of Alfred's arms had slipped free, and he flailed, a fresh rolling scream emitting from his tiny scarlet face. Arthur had never seen him so flushed. He tried to shove her away and kick at the rotting creature, but more of something wet disintegrated from her legs. His hand was suddenly slick with gore and a piece of her fell to the floor with a putrid plop, unseen under the half-rotten chemise she had been buried in. She almost looked to grin at him and pulled Alfred closer.

"Let go!" He commanded, trying to get a purchase, but his hands were too slippery. He lunged after her as she retreated towards the door. "Let him go!"

Then a sword was through her belly. Something degassed like fetid blacksmith's bellows. Arthur's senses nearly abandoned him at the smell, but his hands closed around Alfred and tugged him to his chest, and he shot back against the wall, as far from the thing as he could get.

"I know. I'm sorry." He gasped, a clean hand cradling Alfred's head. "I'm so sorry."

The creature groaned and collapsed to the floor on its knees, struggling as its guts dissolved around the blade. Rhys stood behind her, still in his lambing clothes and boots, mother's leaf-bladed sword in his hands. He lifted it, and her head fell from her shoulders. The rotting eyes followed Arthur across the room. He watched as Rhys found one of the seams of her skull with the tip, plunged the sword in, twisted like he was splitting a log, and this time, she lay still, dismembered.

"Are you all right?" Rhys said, stepping over the body to look at him. He approached close enough to pull the blanket away to look at Alfred. Arthur tried to meet his brother's eyes. "Arthur?"

He couldn't. He could only close his eyes, hold Alfred tighter and collapse down the wall. Alfred pressed as tight as he dared against his sternum, and Arthur tried to breathe. Alfred's crying had softened, terror fading to a heartbreaking relief, and Arthur kissed his head. To close. Too fucking close.

"He's fine," Rhys said; his voice was much softer this time. "You're both fine, I promise."

[speedysart]

The raven and his badger

Thought I share some small art of the cute ship of my Ravenclaw Alistair and buevitokun’s Onyx Deveraux.

I love them dearly and everything about their relation 🥹💙💛

While Alistair kept to “stay in the closet” in his school days to not risk the wrath of his family, Onyx still found his way to his heart and in their 7th year got together in secrecy. And in the sanctuary of their RoR they could be themselves.

[broodwolf221]

happy dadwc :) sending you “Sun-bleached bones, picked clean” for Liall!

LIALLLLL my chaos child. oh this is such a perfect prompt for her, thank you! @dadrunkwriting 772 words cws: discussion of bones, muscle, blood, viscera, and death

They were on their way back to camp when she spotted it. Something bright in the underbrush, just catching the fading light. She noted its position and then cast her gaze forward once again, considering it for the rest of the short trip.

Alistair did not meet her eyes as he pushed forward into the camp, simply beginning to pull off his armor. Liall was so accustomed to sleeping in her leathers that realizing he needed to remove his armor had come as something of a surprise. Sometimes she watched the process, analyzed the way he loosened various buckles, the smooth flow of habit… smooth, that is, until he caught her looking and blanched before turning away. Afterwards there was always a hitch in his pattern, a disruption to the flow of long practice.

Also interesting.

Morrigan hummed at Liall as she passed, going straight towards her tent set up on the far side of camp, and Leliana looked after the other woman for a few moments before sighing and moving to start the fire.

Liall looked at the group, then set her pack down and walked out the way they'd come. No one stopped her, no one called after her.

They were accustomed.

She followed their footprints, although she did not need to, but they were their own study. Alistair's were always the heaviest — he did not know how to walk lightly in forests, but the armor itself weighed him down as well. He was getting better, though. His steps were steadier than they had once been, more regular.

Morrigan barely made any imprint at all. It was all in how she walked, each touch delicate, minimizing disruption, unless disruption was what she desired.

Leliana was between the two. Her steps were less notable than Alistair's, but more than Morrigan's. She was deft and capable, but more accustomed to cities than forests.

Liall paid no mind to her own prints. There was nothing to be learned from them, and as such they deserved no study.

Dusk was in full effect as she caught the gleam once more, exactly where she had known it would be. She approached it warily, but not out of concern. So deep in the woods, it was unlikely to be a trap, and so immobile, unlikely to be anything that yet lived. No, she approached warily because she did not want to disrupt its condition, the context it lay within, not until she had witnessed it for herself.

So she sank down onto her heels some distance away, analyzing first and foremost the surrounding shrubbery. There were no obvious signs of disruption, no broken branches or areas where the bright, small leaves had been torn away. Nor were there any markings on those leaves, no blood or viscera.

Next she turned her attention to the ground before her, staring hard even as the light faded. While slightly more difficult to pick out everything as accurately, her vision was sufficient to see most detail, but she found nothing noteworthy in the dirt. No disruption to the soil, no tearing as of an animal digging, nothing of that sort. Nor were there any prints from people, aside from those she and her companions had left.

Reasonably satisfied that there was nothing to be discovered here, she finally reached out and gently shifted the branches away, revealing what had caught her eye in full. It was two bones, which was unusual.

One bone would be strange enough, but could be reasoned out. Something carrying one before dropping it, perhaps. Strange, but she had known animals that would crack bones open to consume what lay within, so it would not be without precedent.

A full skeleton would make sense, too. Things die. In time, they are consumed or rot, and the bones are left.

But two bones? And these were not just any bones. They were two long bones, yellowed and immaculate, unbroken and without any remnants. She could not even observe any tooth or claw marks. It was almost as if they had been plucked clean out of a creature — for they were not the bones of a human, elf, or dwarf, that much she knew with certainty — and left in the sun. Most curious, then, to find them abandoned and half-hidden in the woods, but in such pristine condition.

She sighed and stood upright, stretching. This would appear to be the work of a person, and that held no interest for her. She left the bones and their mystery behind and returned to camp, grabbing her pack before settling without a word into the tent she shared with Leliana.

[arashway]

location: dusk court. inn in the city. time: dusk. with: @shvdwscng ; alistair.

ARA was seated in a booth in the only inn that was somewhat empty in the city. If she was honest, she'd admit she was still more than surprised about a whole new court coming to light, but to be entirely honest, she was also a little intrigued. Perhaps a bit excited. A smidgen thrilled, as well. Nothing truly exciting ever really happened anymore ( faes being faes & waging wars over everything just because they were bored with immortality was not really new & thus no longer exciting or scandalous or even remotely interesting ).

but, this new court was exciting & so was everything else about it.

The downside? Ara got pretty bored & disinterested pretty quickly. Unfortunately for her, it started to happen rather quickly with this new court as well.

Swirling a glass of expensive - & thus less exquisite - whiskey, she pursed her lips & frowned, averting her gaze from the bar & the barman to the amber liquid in her crystal glass. Ice clinked around & the sound of it was the most interesting thing that's happened to her today. Turning to the person sitting in her vicinity, Ara asked;

"Is it just me or is this place no longer as exciting as it was when we first got here? Even dragons are now old news."

[razzledazzle-pop]

Art Fight attacks and revenge (circa 2022) :3c

Characters and their creators!:

Amelia (@curlymedusa)

Dendo (Toastiannn on ArtFight)

(CrystalPinkStudios on ArtFight)

Sophie @bubblellop

Mason Mare, Marina, Finn, and Noah (@galaxyhanart)

Lavender (Averycoolusername on ArtFight)

Queen Nichole (VampyBoy on ArtFight)

Claire (Pannycake on ArtFight)

Marie and Yoola (FubaraShow on ArtFight (These characters are from Fubara's webcomic, A Masochists Tango, which you can read here. :3)

Clowny Dusk (@bixel-hearty)

Basiana (my blorbo-in-law)(@capriciously-lovesick)

Fay (Chxken on ArtFight)

Alistair (TheWhiteRabbit on ArtFight; my brother. Shakes him)

Aspen and Alistair (TheWhiteRabbit)

Alistair, again (TheWhiteRabbit)

Ike (spidrw3b on ArtFight)

Arielle (@umbranema)

Kitska (jellyfsh on ArtFight)

Cyer and Cynth (...The Sillies) (@hollis-art)

Aspen (TheWhiteRabbit on ArtFight)

Jasper (TheWhiteRabbit on ArtFight AGAIN...he was trying to suplex me. He Did Not).

Emo Duck (ButtHamburger on ArtFight) and Rae (me :3)

Crystal (@crystaljelly64)

Moss (siientsteps on ArtFight)

Nemeia (@djinn-ale)

Background images for some of these were sourced from The Flickr Commons ^ ^

[unlikelysaintdelele]

My Warden and Alistair wearing the Dawn and Dusk rings felt oddly romantic.