#all the other twins made the same choices because most of their family are elves

[sesamenom]

can't remember where it's from but i think it's stated somewhere that Earendil identifies as human but chose elves so he can stay with his family.

so does he have like. elf dysphoria?

[vivianweasley]

Pride and Prejudice (Chapter 2)

Summary: Your father is Lucius Malfoy’s cousin, and after the war, it was really difficult for you to find a job because of your last name. So your mother and Mrs. Weasley came up with a crazy idea. A fake marriage between you and Fred Weasley.  

In this chapter: you became friends with the twins, and you took Fred to an amusement park to celebrate finally receiving a job offer.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Malfoy!Fem!Reader

Warnings: mention of food, Ferris Wheel, slight mention of rollercoasters (the amusement park usual)

Word count: 2.3k

disclaimer: all the pictures used in the header are from Pinterest. Credit goes to the original owners.

Please do NOT repost or translate my work! Thank you!! Reblogs and comments are always welcome:)

Prologue // Chapter 1 

“No! This is not happening!” Fred shook his head furiously when you informed him that you were actually going to stay at his place for as long as your fake marriage was going to last.

You didn’t want to do this either, and you made sure to stay at your parents’ house until the house-elves decided to move your stuff outside for you. “Please! A year isn’t even that long,” you tried your best to look at him with the most sincere eyes, “You won’t even notice me! I will try to stay at my friends’ place as often as possible!”

“Okay, fine!” Looking at your puppy eyes, Fred found himself beginning to cave in, “You can sleep on this couch. Good night!” 

He tried to slip back into his room before making any further sacrifices, but George’s voice stopped him, “Couch? Surely you’re not going to let our guest sleep on the couch?”

Fred glared at George, for he knew his brother was just trying to mess with him. “She’s not our guest. She’s also family now, so she will understand.”

Fred tried to escape again, but George was silently judging him, and you were putting on those puppy eyes again. He sighed and finally decided, “Fine. You said you could do three things for me, right? Okay, the first thing I want you to do is to sleep on this couch.”

“You sure?” You raised your eyebrows, for you were surprised that he would use the first wish so quickly and on something so small, but you saw him nodding. “Fine. Reckless, though, but I accept.”

A smug smile appeared on Fred’s lips as he turned to George, “Problem solved. Good night, family.”

You sat on the couch after unpacking everything. If getting a marriage certificate still didn’t make you realize that this crazy fake marriage was actually happening, you sure realized it now. You and Fred Weasley were on the same team now, and you had to find a way to get along with each other. It’s only for a year, you thought, shouldn’t be difficult. 

Fred lay in his bed, tossing and turning. It started as a joke, a crazy dare, but now there’s a woman sleeping on his couch. Was the couch even comfortable? Fred suddenly felt guilt rising in his stomach, but why should he feel guilty for not giving up his own bed to you? You were the one who was intruding. But it wasn’t your fault though...Fred groaned as his conscience fought this battle that he believed to be unnecessary. This shouldn’t be this difficult.

George was the only one who slept well in this house tonight. In fact, he fell asleep with a smile, knowing that his brother’s life was about to change. This should be fun!

~

Fred woke up the next morning to the smell of breakfast and the sound of laughter. He walked outside and almost jumped when he saw you in his kitchen this early in the morning. Oh right, he just got married.

You and George were cooking breakfast and chatting, and weirdly, this made Fred feel left out. He cleared his throat, and you two finally noticed him.

“Oh, morning!” You and George said in unison, which caused a small frown on Fred’s face. 

“You know how to cook?” Fred blurted out. He wanted to say good morning to you too, but this question came out first, for this scene shocked him. Didn’t you grow up having house elves do everything for you?

“It’s just scrambled egg, genius,” you replied bitterly, “and good morning to you too.”

Then you and George continued cooking and chatting about potential product ideas. Fred was not surprised that you had so many great ideas. After all, he’s had his pranks backfire on him when he tried to prank you before. But he was surprised that you sounded so excited and interested when you were talking about the joke shop. He always assumed that you would think it wasn’t a serious or mature career choice.

Fred wanted to join the conversation, but there was simply no opportunity for him to chip in. He found himself speechless and sitting awkwardly at the table. He also noticed that you sounded friendlier and softer when you were talking to George, and that made him think. If George didn’t have a girlfriend, would he be your fake husband instead? Would that be a better option for you?

Fred felt weirdly defeated. There was something about you that could always make him admit defeat, and he’s definitely not a fan of this feeling.

~

For the next few days, you had nowhere to go and nothing to do while you wait for the result of the interview, so you decided to help at the joke shop. You were staying at their place after all. This was the least you could do.

You had to admit that aside from having to sleep on the couch, living and working with Fred and George wasn’t so bad. Your everyday life was never dull, for they always had little jokes and pranks here and there. You were even beginning to think if you were friends back at Hogwarts, how fun would it be?

And to your surprise, Fred was a completely different person when he was at work. He knew his products well, and he sounded so passionate when he was introducing them to his customers. He’s also surprisingly good and patient with kids. This was nothing like the irresponsible and immature troublemaker you assumed he was. 

Plus, he looked pretty good in his business suit. The shirt fit his body nicely, and the rolled-up sleeves perfectly showed off the line of his arm muscles. For a moment, you even felt proud to have him as your fake husband.

“Are you staring at me?” Fred’s voice almost made you fall off your chair.

“No, I’m not!” You panicked and raised your voice to cover for the fact that you were indeed drooling over your fake husband.

“Yea, you are. I saw it,” Fred leaned forward and teased, “Aww Y/N, are you in love with me now?”

You tried to stay calm and stared back into his eyes, but you could hear your heartbeat growing louder. “You wish.”

“Y/N! It’s here!” George’s voice made both of you jump and pull away from each other immediately. You were still trying to figure out how to act normal, but the letter in George’s hand just made your heart beat faster. 

You recognized the logo of Whizz Hard Books. This was it. This was the letter that contained the result of the interview and your fate. You tore open the envelope as soon as George handed it to you and read the letter immediately.

After re-reading the letter for the third time, you finally looked up with your eyes wide open and eyebrows furrowed. 

“Well, what does it say?” Fred had the same expression as you.

“It says...I’ve got the job?” Those words sounded even stranger when you said them out loud. It took you a good minute for the news to finally sink in. “I’ve got the job! I’ve got a job!!”

You waited for this moment for so long. The overwhelming joy washed over you, and when you finally regained your senses, you realized you were cheering and hugging Fred, and your faces were only inches away. You pulled away, coughing awkwardly. 

“So...What do you want to do to celebrate?” Fred spoke first, breaking the awkward silence.

“I have an idea!” You said as you grabbed Fred’s arm. You were still overjoyed that you weren’t fully aware of what you were doing, but Fred’s breath hitched when your fingertips touched his skin.

You held out your hand to George, “George, you coming with us?”

“Sorry, I’ve got a date tonight,” George came up with an excuse. How could he interrupt when he noticed that little change in Fred’s expression when you invited him too?

~

When Fred opened his eyes again, he gasped, “Muggle amusement park?” A Malfoy brought him to an amusement park? A muggle amusement park?

“Yea, this is my favorite place!” You realized he was surprised because a stereotypical Malfoy shouldn’t be interested in anything in the muggle world, but you didn’t want to waste your time arguing with him when you saw the booth ahead. “C’mon!”

It doesn’t count as going to an amusement park if you didn’t get a cute headband, and you were finding this cat ears headband in front of you absolutely adorable. But what fun would it be if nobody was wearing it with you?

You soon picked out a bunny ears headband for Fred, but when you turned to him, he was already looking into the mirror, wearing the same cat headband.

“I think it looks better on me, don’t you think?” He winked at you.

You rolled your eyes, “No, I don’t. I’m claiming this one. You have to pick another one.”

“No, if anyone has to change today, it’s you.”

“I’m not changing!”

“I think the lady wears it better.” You and Fred looked down, and it was a little boy who complimented you.

“Oh, thank you!” You beamed at the boy and turned to look at Fred with a smug smile, “You heard that, now go change.”

But the little boy asked again, “Is he your boyfriend?”

“What? Oh, no! He’s not my boyfriend,” you answered quickly with an awkward laugh.

But Fred chimed in, “I’m her husband, actually.” 

The boy left with a disappointed face, but Fred was smiling at you like he just won a competition, and this successfully made your cheeks heat up. “Why do you have to say that to a kid?” 

“Cause it was on your contract, remember? The fewer people know, the better, right?” he smiled innocently, “I’m just trying to follow the rules.”

“O..kay.” You squinted. Fred Weasley trying to follow the rules? What day is it today?

“So, do I still have to pick another one?”

“No, keep it. You look great with it.” You finally admitted.

He raised his eyebrows at your answer but soon beamed at you, “You look pretty good with it, too.”

Your heart skipped a beat when he looked into your eyes. Luckily, the queue not far from you caught your attention and saved you from doing anything embarrassing. “C’mon, hurry up! The queue isn’t too long now!” you grabbed his arm and started running. 

Fred was surprised that no matter how many times you’ve done this, your fingertips could always send electro waves up his body. And he had to admit he was starting to like that feeling.

You dragged him everywhere, going from rollercoaster rides to the carousel. Fred was amazed to see you this happy and excited. You were nothing like the stuck-up, cold, pureblood princess he thought you were. Not to mention that every time you smiled at him, he could feel his heart skipping a beat.

~

Your amusement park adventure ended with the Ferris Wheel. It was your favorite way to end the night. From above here, you could see the entire park and the city. You knew flying on a broom could give you a broader and better view, but the Ferris Wheel had a more romantic tone to it. 

“What’s your favorite today?” Fred asked.

“Hmm...I loved that ride for kids because you were so scared,” you joked.

“No, I was not!” Fred protested, “but you have to agree that was a really creepy ride.”

“Agree. Don’t know why they had to make things so creepy for kids,” you laughed and finally answered his question seriously, “It’s actually now. The Ferris Wheel is my favorite part, and you will know why in a minute. What’s yours, though?”

Fred was about to answer, but the sound of fireworks stopped him.

“Ah! Right on time!” you exclaimed as the fireworks exploded into flowers of fire in the night sky, and the Ferris Wheel had the perfect view for it.

Fred’s eyes widened as butterflies in his stomach were completely out of control. The city lights and the fairy lights of the park twinkled as the fireworks continued to bloom. And you looked so beautiful when you were smiling and gazing at the firework outside. Everything was so perfectly romantic, and Fred found himself helpless when he answered your previous question, “Mine’s actually the Ferris Wheel, too.”

~

When you finally got home, you just wanted to jump on your couch and sleep. But before you could do that, Fred stopped you.

“You...You could sleep on my bed if you want. I will sleep on the couch tonight.”

“Are you sure? But I thought you-”

“Yea, consider this as a gift for getting a job.”

You were surprised. Didn’t he love his bed so much that he used one wish to keep it? But he looked sure, and a smile appeared on your lips, “Well, then I will gladly accept your gift. Good night, Freddie!”

“Good night, Y/N,” Fred replied, couldn’t help but smile when he heard you calling him that.

“You fancy her, don’t you?” George finally walked out of his room after you went into Fred’s room.

“Pff, no,” Fred rolled his eyes when he could basically hear George’s smirk without even looking at him, “I just...think she’s pretty cool.”

“Yea, right. Good night, brother.”

After George went back to his room too, Fred was lying awake on the couch, trying to find a way to fit himself on this uncomfortably small couch. When he was tossing and turning, he realized he wasn’t regretting wasting his first wish and giving up his bed to you, but feeling guilty that he made you sleep here for more than a week. 

You were all he could think about now. Just a few days ago, you were no different from the other obnoxious Malfoys to him, but now you were a real person. Someone who would pout when he refused to change the headband with you. Someone who would laugh at his endless bad puns about amusement parks. Someone whose smile could make his heart flutter.

Oh Merlin, he thought, maybe George was right.

Chapter 3

~

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[flourishandblctts]

She’s a Lady || 𝓕red 𝓦easley

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋꜱ ᴍʏ ʙᴏɴᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʟᴀᴜɢʜ. -ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴋᴏᴡꜱᴋɪ

Being the youngest child of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy you were the princess of the family, your older brother Draco was your rock as he was always there for you he was 5 years older than you but in his eyes you were his baby sister that he will protect and care for. 

It was easy for you to get away with everything, as a child you were very energetic and was found most of the time next to your mother or even joining your mother at the garden. Playing hide and seek and tea party forcing your brother to join your tea party with your other stuff toys, but behind all the youth days of yours was in the place of Lucius office with his wife who both looking down at the garden seeing you play with your older brother with the other elves at the side making sure you won’t get hurt as you run around, Narcissa’s eyes sting with tears as she knew she had no control to stop what his husband and your grandfather were talking about, which was your future. 

Everything will be planned out, your school, house you must be in, your behavior and the man you must marry. As much as your mother hates how your life is now planned out all you have to do is obey to their wishes. 

Leaning your head towards the cold window next to you, as you shut your eyes and close the book that you were reading the way to Hogwarts was going to be a while, you didn’t feel like interacting with your friends who were obviously talking about boys or the newest clothes, a knock was heard on your compartment and you saw your brother Draco, your friends all had a crush on him but you roll your eyes when Draco would shamelessly flirt back at them but you like the look on Pansy’s face when he does that. 

Pansy was like a sister to you but you knew her intentions was just to get closer to your brother that she has been crushing on since then, opening your eyes meeting those similar silver eyes like yours you raise your brow at him “what?”

“Have you eaten yet? Ever since we left you have been awfully quiet.” His voice had a hint of worry you knew Draco was never going to let you go without seeing that your better. You nodded your head because even just for a bit you ate the pumpkin pasties your friend gave you. Draco didn’t want to believe you at first but he just let it go when Blaise started calling him. “Ladies please keep an eye on my sister, if something happens please tell me.” With that he left and your friend’s cheeks were beet red. 

“You have awful taste in men, and none of you are going to date my brother.” 

Arriving at Hogwarts and everyone headed to the great hall you told your friends to head first and you’ll catch up but what you didn’t saw coming was a pink shooting ball landing towards you, but you felt someone pull you back your back colliding on someone’s chest earning a groan from the person who just pulled you from that. Turning around you saw a tall, with freckles and ginger hair. 

‘Weasley’ your head said, mentally rolling your eyes you knew this was the prankster twins.

“Look I don’t know who you or which twin are you but thanks for that, now if you will excuse me.” You were about to leave when you felt something hit your face and the hallways was erupted by his laughter.

“I’m so sorry” You looked up to see another Weasley who was identical to the one who was laughing, “The machine was broken and you just stood in the spot and then that.” You wiped the pink powder off your face using your sleeves but you felt a hand move it you were about to speak when he whipped his wand out and to your face, you didn’t catch what he said. “There all cleaned up.” 

You rolled your eyes walking away feeling irritated by them, “Oh by the way, the name is Fred!” Not looking back and just decided to walk faster.

Ever since that day it was Fred who was following you around or sitting next to you whether it was in the library or in great hall, your friends would exchange looks and everyone else would just think your dating Fred Weasley, it reached up to your brother and he wasn’t even happy about you and Fred but you told him it’s nothing that he was just bothering you he even asked if you wanted him to hex Fred but you weren’t the violent type of person and you just told Draco to never do that. 

Sitting down alone by the Black Lake your tears keep streaming down your cheeks, it has been hours you sat here alone ever since you got a black letter from your parents. The letter wasn’t the same as before them asking you ‘how are you’ or ‘do you need anything’ in fact this letter was telling you that after Hogwarts you were going to marry the man they find to be more suitable for you and for the family. You heard someone clear their throat, you whip your head to that direction and saw Fred standing looking at you but his face fell when he saw your red nose, eyes and cheeks. “I noticed you earlier and thought why were you running here when usually no one likes to be alone in the black lake.” You just sighed and patted the spot next to you, “join me?” you looked back at him again “please?” he moved to the spot sitting next to you “care to tell me why your crying?” This was the side of Fred not everyone gets to see he was usually pranking everyone especially the Slytherins, that’s maybe the reason why your brother doesn’t like him because of how he was. Other than that he was a Weasley.

“I’m getting married after Hogwarts, I’m not even sure if I’m ready by then.” You said hugging your knees close to you, tears brimming in your eyes again. “Do you even love the guy?” He looked at you with his brows furrowed looking at you with those eyes, you shook your head indicating ‘no’ “I don’t even know him and I am yet to meet him.” Fred scoffed which made you look at him “What?” “Your living as if your a doll, your being told what to do and what you shouldn’t do is this how you like to live?” You know deep down you knew your life has also been about obeying your families wishes for and that you have no choice but to follow them because they think their always right and what they do will lead you to a better path, “No, I’m tired of living like this.” You said softly sniffing and wiping your tears away but Fred caught your hand on his and he used his thumb to wipe your tears. 

“Then be with me and I’ll show you how life should be darling.” As tempting as it sounds you knew you should’ve said no that day but you didn’t and you can’t tell if this was something your going to regret or was just a best mistake you have ever done. You took his hand standing up he followed your action, “Then show me how we should live then.” 

It was wrong you know but life has been much better you realize how dull and cold it was before but with Fred showing you happiness it was much different than it was before, being with Fred made you realize you should’ve met him before he left Hogwarts which made you upset however you get to see him whenever you go to Hogsmeade, he showed you him and his twin’s business which you supported him but what you didn’t know is someone had their eyes on you and they laughed because you were with a Weasley. 

On the holiday break you sat down with the rest of your family, the table was filled with different variety of food and you took the empty seat next to your brother. But you noticed how gold your father’s eyes were on you ever since you came which you can’t help but wonder. After supper your mother called you and this is were the mess began. You were crying begging to your parents to leave Fred alone and you to have the rights to marry and love whoever you want but this made Lucius blood boil because he didn’t want a Weasley apart of the family who associates themselves with muggles, Narcissa was at the corner feeling helpless to her own daughter who was crying for the last few minutes she wanted to just wrap her arms around you but it was her husband who had to say what must happen even if she wasn’t pleased about it as well, “You don’t go around anymore with that boy or else I will make you move into a different school! The man your marrying is from Drumstrang don’t make me move you there so you can both know each other properly with more time and day and soon after your going to marry him.” You fled from the office but you heard your father calling for you but you just ran upstairs to your room, sobbing your heart out as you bury your face on your white pillow. 

Fred hasn’t seen you since then and it hurts because even until now he was still waiting for you. 

It wasn’t until he heard the door bell ring and the twins were about to greet but they saw Draco instead which cause the twins to frown instead.  “Can I speak to you Fred?” Draco who seemingly asked nicely which cause the twins to exchange look because their not use to this, he just nodded and led Draco to their office. “Why are you here?” Fred asked crossing his arms to his chest, Draco scoffed he didn’t really want to be in here but for his little sister’s request he would do anything for her anyway, Draco didn’t like the Weasley’s but the way his sister talked about that’s when Draco thought maybe their not as bad as his own family think they are. “Here, I know it’s been clearly days that you haven’t seen Y/n she insisted I give you this letter.” The letter was in a dark purple with black ribbon and a stamp of her first letter of her surname ‘M’ in a color of white with golds in it. 

“I’ll be off, I hope that letter answers all your question about where she is. And I’m sorry for everything I have been towards you and your other siblings.” With that Draco left the room, the silence was too loud and Fred just stared at the letter in his hand debating whether he should open it now or later when they pack up the shop and close. He decided not to first since he felt his heart hammering inside his chest the rest of the day he felt nervous- no- anxious of what was inside the letter. 

When they finish up he bolted into his shared room with George and sat down next to the window, opening the letter he suddenly jolted up and ran out he ignored George’s calling him and where he was going he kept running and running he wasn’t even stopping, he stopped by the Lake where the letter told him to be there because all his questions will be answered when he shows up there. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turning to his back he saw Narcissa and Draco but the person who was in front of him was Y/n. He couldn’t hold back as he swiftly wrapped his arms around her and picked her up spinning around as her laugh filled the cold night. Putting her down he placed his hands on either side of her face, “I thought you forgot about me already.” Fred said looking down at her eyes, “I would never leave you not when I told you to show me how I should live, it’s how we should live because Fred I choose to be with you and not someone else it’s you and only you.” Fred felt his heart thumping even more he felt happy to hear those words even more he was grateful it was night no one can see how red his ears was. 

“Then be with me darling, let’s be together until the end.” You placed your hands on his hands and took them off you released a heavy sigh which made Fred wonder you’d say “No, I’m sorry Fred.” he’s face fell and he suddenly felt cold but you laughed at his face and he looked confused, “I’m sorry this was a terrible prank, I can’t believe you just fell for that.” You held onto your stomach as you laughed even more and Fred can’t believe he fell for that indeed.  “I’ll get my revenge next time but now I’m freezing cold, come on shorty I’m taking you with me.” He carried you like a bridal style and you were just happy to be out of your families rules and ridiculous plans for you, and you were right to say yes that day and be with Fred. Taking the risk your life needed. 

the gif is not mine, credits to the owner.

[loving-daisy]

Cry For Me | George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist | Cry For Me Masterlist 

Chapter 5 - Eiffel For You 

Words: 4.9k

Warnings: fluff, gossiping, insults, threatening, surprises, confessions, secrets getting spilled

"I’ve been yours since the beginning.”

The golden hour visibly announces its presence on the elite Slytherin 5th year. Her facial features are illuminated by the descending sun, as she faces one of the most mischievous Gryffindor in Hogwarts. The couple stands at the snow covered ground, eye to eye as they wrap themselves in each other’s warm embrace. 

“Y/N Icestone, I fancy you.” George repeated for the second time. 

The girl beams at him, her wide smile revealing her pearly-white teeth, making the ginger’s fluttering heart beat faster. Y/N played with the ginger hairs situated at the back of the boy’s neck, nodding a few times. “George Weasley, I fancy you.” She answered. 

Once again, both of their lips were pressed against each other for a short passionate kiss. 

“Be my girlfriend.” The boy muttered after they pulled away, a small gap between them remaining, together with their arms around each other. 

“Is that an order or a question?” Y/N questioned, an eyebrow raised towards the ginger, trying to hide the giddiness in her voice. Similar to the scenario after the twins’ holiday party, she examined the look on the boy’s face.

George only looked at her, his face an expression of expectation and hesitance, his heart beating from all the adrenaline as his mind became full of different scenarios as to what the Slytherin will answer. Searching his eyes, the girl only saw hope, admiration, and fear, to which she was pleased as the boy really did seem to have his eyes only for her, 

She pressed a hand on his cheek, carefully caressing the visible freckles as he leaned into her hand, still not breaking the eye contact. Y/N gave his rosy lips a peck, the bright smile on their faces returning. 

“I’ve been yours since the beginning.” 

____________________

The following Monday, it seems like the controversial Slytherin-Gryffindor relationship rose from its dying noise, as it was temporarily replaced by the news about the first wizard to ever escape Azkaban, Sirius Black, getting nearer and nearer the wizarding school. The news of the elite stone-cold heart Slytherin taking her relationship with the warm and funny Gryffindor to the next level was now the talk of the whole school. 

Those sorted in the house of Salazar were divided to 70-30. 70% believing that the girl doesn’t really have feelings for the boy and that it was just a scheme to make him fall in love with her. 30% believed that her feelings were genuine, ashamed of the fact that the girl from the noble family associated herself with the blood-traitor, Weasleys. 

Those from the same house of the ginger were surprised. Amazed even. Majority giving even more respect to the notorious twins for being able to steal a girl from their opposing house’s heart. However, those of the house of Godric had clashing opinions as well. Some girls were envious, defeated, and heart broken, seeing as both of their lovely twins were off the single market (Although Fred was still single, everyone knew who he had his eyes focused on). Some were happy, but for different reasons. Some thought that it was just another scheme to trash on the rival house while a couple were genuinely happy for George, finally getting a partner after how many moments of being his twin’s wingman. But some were reluctant and scared that they were the ones being played by the Slytherins. 

Meanwhile, the majority from the house of Helga were happy for George and Y/N, thinking that the rivalry between the two houses would finally evaporate. In the house of Ravenclaw, most fully believed that the two wouldn’t last long, betting that they’d probably wake up from their trance and realize that they’re too different from one another.  

Back when it was only Y/N Icestone that was being talked about, the girl never gave attention to the big mouths as they only said all the good things about her, praised her and envied her, for being the next heir to the Icestone family’s wealth. Back when it was only their friendship that was being talked about, her ears only perked up only for her to shoot daggers towards those who questioned her decision. But now that their romantic choices were being talked about, it seems as if the Slytherin’s patience deflated like a balloon. Always opening her mouth to give the big mouths a piece or two of her mind. 

“Have you heard? It seems like Icestone and that one Weasley boy are officially together!” A boy wearing green robes, who seemed to be in a higher year than Y/N, informed the rest of the students present in their little circle. 

“What?!” A girl from the house of Rowena asked in disbelief. 

This time, a different girl from Ravenclaw spoke. “It’s true! I heard this girl from Hufflepuff talking about how she saw the both of them snogging during that one Hogsmeade weekend!” 

“She could do so much better, honestly.” The boy from Y/N’s house muttered, fully not aware how the subject of their conversation was close, pretending to read her potions book as she consciously eavesdropped after hearing that they were talking about them. 

“Both of them, actually.” The Ravenclaw said, causing her to turn her eyes towards her, memorizing her distinct looks as she faked a cough, making sure that she was heard. The three Slytherins froze on their spot, recognizing the voice, while the two Ravenclaws seemed like their eyes were about to pop out of their head after seeing who the cough belonged to. 

Y/N moved her eyes back to her open book, feigning a smile. “Having fun talking about other people’s lives?” 

“Icestone-” one of the Slytherins spoke. Y/N slammed her book shut, rising to her feet as she gave the group a glare. “Don’t you have other things to do instead of gossiping about me?” She spat, making the group become fearful. 

Y/N examined them one by one. 1 group, 5 people, 2 girls from Ravenclaw, and 3 Slytherin boys that she recognized after a few moments of searching her head. She crossed her arms, smirking at those at the same house as hers. “Let’s see, Heather, Hampton, and Henderson. The H’s of year 7 Slytherin. H for humiliation, as it seems like all of you still ask for some Ravenclaw's help to do your homework for you.” She insulted before turning her attention towards the girls. “How about you, girls? Is your life too boring for you, that you have to speak about mine instead?” 

All in the circle had a very unpleasing look on their faces, however, unable to say something to defend themselves from Icestone, who was fuming on the inside but very cold outside. She feigned a frown, pretending to be completely disgusted. “Close your mouths, sweet hearts. Your mouths really stink.” Y/N stated before walking away. 

____________________

A few hours before the Great hall serves its mouth-watering feast, the fresh and hot couple of Hogwarts were found to be seated under a tree, with the tall and ginger Gryffindor presenting a big orange box to the doe-eyed Slytherin. 

Y/N took a hold of the neatly wrapped box, carefully shaking it from left to right in an attempt to figure out what its contents were. Her eyebrows went close to each other, her forehead creasing as she faced the smiling boy. “What’s this?” She asked. 

The smile on George’s face didn’t leave his face as he gave the girl a small shrug as an answer. “Open it.” 

The Slytherin turned her attention back to the box, carefully unwrapping the black ribbon before muttering “I bet you didn’t tie this yourself. It’s too neat.”, getting a snort and a “you’re so smart.” from the ginger. 

After getting the ribbon out of the way, Y/N examined the box, her heart rapidly beating in expectancy and anticipation. She got rid of the lid that blocks the content from her view before wrapping her hands around her boyfriend’s neck. “You got me a scarf? That’s so sweet of you, George. Thank you!” She cooed, placing a small sweet kiss on the ginger’s cheek. 

George laughed, the weight on his shoulders being lifted, thankful for the girl’s joyful reaction. He placed his hands on the sides of Y/N’s face, pressing his lips on her forehead. “Yeah, Ron bragged to me the other day that he was able to enter the Slytherin dungeons when he was in second year - ” 

“What?!” Y/N cut off the ginger, shocked by the delivered information. “How did he do that?” 

“He wouldn’t tell!” George exclaimed. “But he did tell me that the dungeons get really cold even if it isn’t winter.” 

“So I got you this because you’re really cold easily. At least that’s what you say to me when you blush because of my compliments.” He said, giving the girl a wink that made her groan in response. George only gave a sheepish smile before continuing. “It's not made with the finest tendered wool but it was made with love! My mum...she knitted it herself! I just thought that you needed something extra to keep you warm in case you’re cold. It’s not much but —“ 

Y/N, once again cut him off, this time by placing a finger on the boy’s lips before whispering “Shut up, George. I love it! I really do! Thank you, really.” 

George removed the girl’s hand in front of him. He placed his forehead against hers, kissing her nose. “I’m glad you love it, Y/N.” He said, matching the softness and tone of Y/N’s voice.

____________________

A few hours later, the couple found themselves in their usual midnight escapade, seated at a soft blanket at the Astronomy tower as they looked up the various stars and constellations enveloped in the night sky. 

“Ooh~ Chocolate chip cookies! How did you know that these were my favorite?” Y/N questioned as she divulged the snack, her doe-like eyes sparkling as she looked up the ginger. Truth is, Fred and George thought that it would be a good idea to head to the kitchens to ask for the house elves for some snacks. Fred’s reason was completely different from George’s as he meant to bring apple pie for him, Lee, and Ron’s friends for a little game. George just took the cookies because he thought that the pie would not pass as edible once he took it out of his robes. And no, George did not, in any way or form, know that the Slytherin loves her cookies. 

“Of course, I know. I am George afterall.” He answered, grabbing a piece for himself as well. As he carefully munched on his snack, he took a look at Y/N’s glistening features under the stars. If she looked gorgeous under the sunset, she still looked good under the stars. Her eyes were illuminated with sparks, as if it were stars. George also noticed the hairdo of the girl, her hair put together by the black ribbon that came from his gift. 

“I like what you did with your hair.” He complimented. 

Y/N carefully stroked her locks, twirling some on her finger. “Thanks. I actually used the ribbon that came from your gift.” 

“Very resourceful, you are.” “I’m a Slytherin. It’s part of our nature.” 

After a few moments of silence, a thought popped out the girl’s head. “So…” Y/N began. “it seems like Slytherin and Gryffindor are gonna rival once again in the championship match for quidditch.” 

George replied. “Yup! Reckon I’ll get your support?”

Y/N gave him a teasing smile, sipping on her glass of milk. “Oh you have my support, alright. At least, only you.” She said, shrugging smugly. George furrowed his eyebrows, crossing his arms against his chest. “Not Gryffindor?” 

“No! I’m not a Gryffindor, I’m a Slytherin!” 

“But your boyfriend is in Gryffindor!” George argued. 

“Boyfriend,” Y/N repeated, smiling. “I love the ring of that.” 

“I love you.” The ginger blurted out, taking the girl a back. “What?” She asked as if her ears deceived her, wanting to confirm what spoke out of the boy’s mouth. 

“What?” George repeated, an innocent look on his face. 

“You said something.” Y/N commented. “Yes, I did.” George answered. 

“So…” The boy began, changing the subject. “Are you gonna watch the match?” 

Y/N raised a brow towards the ginger before mentally pushing her thoughts at the back of her head, grabbing another cookie. “Of course! I need to show my house some support you know.” 

George placed his hands on the sides of the girl’s head, pinching her cheeks after giving her a small peck. “Well, your house needs to get ready because this Gryffindor beater will not hesitate to do his best.” 

“Just because his luck is going to be watching at the stands.” He declared, giving the shocked girl a wink. 

____________________

The next three weeks, the couple barely saw each other as both their schedules clashed. The only time and place where they get to talk to each other, one on one, was during potions class, as they were partners. However, they only spoke of academic things, with Y/N instructing George on what to do next most of the time. 

Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor quidditch team captain, was keeping all the players from leisure as he scheduled practice every day, seven days a week, to make sure that his game plan was being executed properly. 

“Wood has been keeping us because he wants to win the cup so bad. Reckon it’s his last year in Hogwarts. What better way to end it than winning the Quidditch cup?” Y/N remembered George quietly telling her during one potions class, careful to not get caught by Professor Snape. 

As for their usual midnight escapades, even if the ginger insisted to continue on with it, the girl opposed, saying that it was better for George to just go back to his room and rest after a long night of flying around his broom, beating a bludger. 

“But I want to spend time with you!” George whined as if he was a child who got his sweets taken away. 

“Me too. But you’re gonna be too tired tomorrow. You need some sleep, George.” Y/N reasoned as she stroked the boy’s hair. “We’ll see each other soon. Tell you what, let’s make a bet.” 

George’s ears perked up at the word, suddenly interested in how the conversation is getting. 

“If you win the quidditch cup, you get to spend time with me 24/7. If you lose, then...that’s unfortunate.” Y/N said, attempting her giggles to come out after saying that last sentence. George groaned, muttering a small “fine.” before resting his head back on the girl’s lap. 

“Where’s your stupid lover boy, Icestone?” Y/N’s thoughts were cut off after hearing an obnoxious voice speaking out to her as she quietly read her book on the couch in front of the Slytherin fireplace. 

She gave the sour looking boy a small glance before turning her attention back to her book. “Why is a filthy git like you speaking to someone like me?” She expressed distaste on her voice. “So unfortunate for me.” She added. 

The boy scowled. “Watch your words, Icestone.”

Y/N feigned a laugh, piercing a threatening stare on the speaker. “Or what, Malfoy?” 

“Or I’ll tell your father how you’ve been associating yourself with a blood-traitor like him!” He replied, a smug look on his face after seeing the effect of his words. Y/N slammed her book shut, earning the attention of the other students in the area. 

“Why don’t you just mind your bloody own business?!” She bellowed. 

“Because you’re tampering the noble house of Icestone!” Draco exclaimed. 

“What is it to you? You’re not even an Icestone!” The girl argued. 

“But I’m Draco Malfoy.” He began, his voice calmer than before in order to not let their conversation be heard. “Associated with the house of Black and the house of Malfoy. One of the remaining wizard families that remains to be pure, that includes you. Y/N Icestone, the heir. Generations from generations, your royal name has been passed. You should protect that, don’t you think?” He suggested. 

Y/N shook her head in disbelief, crossing her arms against her chest as she replied under gritted teeth. “What you’re saying is pointless.”

“Haven’t your parents taught you about how important it is to remain pure? To carry on family tradition?” Draco asked, adding more fuel to the fire that is Y/N Icestone, who rolled her eyes.

“Why are you acting as if the Weasleys are not purebloods?” 

“Because they love muggle-borns and adore muggles! They’re blood traitors!” Draco answered, frustrated. “And what’s so wrong about being friendly to other people? At least they have basic human decency unlike you. Grow up, Malfoy.” She answered, spatting at the boy. 

“I-”

“Not another word, Draco.” She ordered. “Or I’ll hex you. You wouldn’t want to miss the quidditch match wouldn’t you?” Y/N threatened, her wand out and pointed at the boy’s chest, scaring him. She scoffed at his frightened look, pressing her wand against where it’s pointed. 

“Now, shove off, shine your stupid broom or something, and leave my business out of yours.” 

____________________

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s your boy, Lee Jordan here and today, we are about to witness Hogwarts’ Quidditch finals with the famous house rivals, Gryffindor vs Slytherins!” Lee, the school’s commentator announced from his mic. 

The quidditch field was full of students in anticipation, the stands filled with the two house colors, red and green. Although students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff we’re also in attendance, those who belonged in the said houses put on clothing around themselves that symbolized which team they were rooting for. Majority of it being red for the house of lions. 

Y/N Icestone found herself seated at one of the front rows in a Slytherin stand. Beside her was Daphne Greengrass and her sister Astoria, who was talking to each other about who knows what. On the other side of Y/N was Pansy Parkinson and her flock, to which she gave no attention to, even if the girl tried (and failed) to be in her acquaintance. 

“First off, we have the Gryffindors!” Lee announced. “Bell, Johnson, Potter, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and their team captain, Oliver Wood! Woohoo~! Let’s go Gryffindors! Let’s go!” 

The crowd present in the stands cheered with their hearts out as the Gryffindor team players’ names were called. Except for Slytherin and Slytherin supporters, of course. Otherwise, they’d be thrown off the stands. 

Even if the whole school knew about Y/N Icestone and George Weasley’s not-so-friendly relationship, Y/N thought to still keep in lowkey and not show the public some displays of affection as she wanted to keep her privacy, in which George completely understood. Additionally, Y/N Icestone comes from the house of loyalty. It wouldn’t be such a great image for her if she openly supported the opposing team. 

Therefore, Y/N Icestone tried to control her face from showing any sort of support to her boyfriend’s team, even if the boyfriend in question flew in the stand in front of her, blowing a kiss. Y/N rolled her eyes in response, giving the ginger a thumbs up, only to turn it upside down and mouth a “you’re gonna lose so bad.” 

George feigned a hurt expression, his hands on top of his chest where his heart was placed, then suddenly changing it into a smug look and holding up a “2” and “4” on each finger and then “7” before zooming away with another wink. 

____________________

The score was currently 120-90 with Gryffindor in the lead. An hour and a half has already passed but neither of the team’s respective seekers have caught the snitch to end the match. Y/N usually would want to have ended the match in an instant for her to go back to the book she’s been reading but this time, she was actually enjoying herself. It was just this match where quidditch suddenly felt very interesting to her. Maybe it was because of a certain ginger beater but who knows right? 

“Gryffindor! Gryffindor! Gryffindor!” The crowd chanted like a beating drum. Y/N’s heart was beating in anticipation too. Even if she did not show it, she was actually rooting for Gryffindor to win, chanting with the majority of the crowd inside her head. Her face however, feigning distaste as her house’s team was losing. 

A bludger was zooming towards George when his eyes suddenly caught on it. Looking towards the stands to make eye contact with his girlfriend, he pointed his bat towards her as he mouthed a “this one’s for you.”, before hitting the bludger away. The Slytherin crossed her arms against her chest, attempting to hide the blush that’s creeping on her cheeks as she mouthed a “show off” in response. George only gave a wink before flying away. 

“Seeker Draco Malfoy with a newly recovered arm has got his eyes on the snitch as he plummets down towards it. What is this?! Harry Potter chasing him! They’re side by side, ooh the nimbus two thousand and one is really a no-match for the firebolt- okay Professor McGonagall, back to the game.” 

“Harry Potter took both his hands away from his broom, reaching the fast little snitch, he’s getting closer, closer, a little more closer, and he’s caught it! He’s caught it! Harry Potter has caught the snitch! Gryffindor wins the cup!” 

The crowd roars in celebration after the house of Godric has been declared as the champions. Students of Gryffindor were jumping up and down, chanting “Gryffindor! Gryffindor! Gryffindor!” as both team players from the two houses flew down and dismounted their brooms. 

Oliver Wood held up a hand towards Marcus Flint as a sign of sportsmanship, who was harshly rejected as the Slytherin team captain slapped his hand away and retreated towards their changing rooms together with the rest of the Slytherin players. 

Fred and George had Harry resting on top of their shoulders, who was holding the cup in his arms, surrounded by people from the same house, congratulating them. Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson, the Gryffindor chasers, were huddled around crying, hugging each other in delight. 

As the three houses came together to celebrate the defeat of the winning streak the house represented by a serpent, the Slytherins decided to skip that part and head towards the dungeons instead. Nonetheless, even if the Slytherin did or did not win, there was a party going to be held. It included firewhiskey and chips. Who doesn’t like a cold underground party with firewhiskey and chips? 

After putting Harry down, George thanked every single student who came to congratulate him but he was rather distracted, as his eyes were looking for somebody else. The privilege of height was very useful for him as he caught the girl’s eyes in delight, who was beaming at him at the sides. George grinned in return. 

Attempting to push past the ocean of crowd he was stuck in, Y/N held out a hand to halt him, her wrist flicking as she levitated a small piece of ripped parchment towards the ginger. 

Meet you at the tower later.

George read. Giving a thumbs up to Y/N, who turned her heels away and left the field. 

____________________

“Where you off to, mate?” Fred asked, blocking the Gryffindor common room exit away from his twin. 

“Nowhere.” George replied, grunting. 

“Then why does it seem like you’re up to something? Without me? Why are you keeping things away from me? I thought we were best friends.” Fred rambled, his words slurring as he was starting to get bat-shit drunk. 

“Fred, how much did you drink?” The younger twin questioned, mentally slapping his forehead as he observed the bottle of firewhiskey in his twin’s hand, which had about ¼ of it left. “Don’t answer. You need to stop, mate. Or else you’re going to humiliate yourself in front of Angelina.” He commented. 

“Angie?! Where is Angie?!” Fred shouted, finally moving away from the portrait as he headed towards Angelina. 

“Bet you 5 galleons that he's going to puke in front of her.” Ron muttered from the side. Oh great, another one. George thought. 

“Where are you going? I thought you enjoyed parties.” The youngest Weasley boy interrogated. 

George sighed, his hands digging his pockets to grab a couple of gold. “Listen, if you don’t ask, move away, and not tell everyone, I’ll give you 5 galleons right away without having that stupid bet you’re proposing.” He negotiated, holding out his hand full of coins in front of Ron’s face. 

“Deal!” Ron exclaimed, immediately grabbing the gold and running away. 

When George arrived at the Astronomy tower, he was greeted by a red and white picnic blanket settled around his and Y/N’s usual spot. On top of it was a candle lit on the center and a big brown picnic basket. 

He felt small and cold hands wrapping around his waist from behind, the owner’s hair tickling the back of his neck. George grinned before turning around to face his girlfriend, his hands resting on the sides of her face as he planted a small and sweet kiss on top of her forehead. 

“You really did take your time, huh?” Y/N muttered, raising a brow towards the ginger who smiled sheepishly in return. “I had...obstacles.” He said, shrugging. 

“What is all this?” George asked, pointing at the set-up in front of him.

“Your reward.” Y/N answered, pulling him towards the blanket and grabbing the contents of the picnic basket. 

“How exactly did you manage to prepare all these?” The ginger questioned, secretly popping a biscuit in his mouth as the girl continued to set-up their night. 

Y/N halted her actions, facing the boy, in which she caught divulging the biscuit that made him look as if his eyes were about to pop out of his head. She giggled at the sight, shaking her head from side to side. 

“I owled home, asked my mom to bring me some of my favorite snacks. Or maybe it was the house elves. I’m not really sure if my parents are home right now. Oh, now I’m sure. There’s a postcard.” 

Y/N, me and your father are currently in Paris. He craved some bread and pasta last night and so we decided to stop by a bit. Your owl came to me so I sent it home to order the house elves. But included are these French toast that you like. X Mom 

“Ooh~ French toast. That sounds fancy.” George commented. Y/N digged through the basket, pulling out the toasts before handing one to the ginger. 

“So...Paris, huh? Have you ever been to Paris?” The ginger asked. Y/N took a bite of her toast. 

“Yes...and no.” She answered, making George confused. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, my mother and father were into 4 months of expecting me when they were in Paris. But as you know, obviously, I wasn’t born yet so that doesn’t really count.” Y/N began. “Father told me that Paris holds a special place in their hearts because that’s where he proposed to my mother. In front of the Eiffel tower. Papa said that’s also where he realized how he loved her.” She explained. 

“Bet he said ‘Eiffel for you’ in front of the Eiffel tower.” George punned, earning a small shove from the grinning girl. “That was such a bad joke.” She convinced. 

“Nah~! If it was bad, you wouldn’t have been trying to suppress your laugh.” He teased. “But guess what, Y/N?” 

“What?” She asked, curious. 

“Eiffel for you too.” George declared, earning a loud laugh from Y/N which caused him to get infected too. 

“Godric! This is so much better than watching Fred humiliate himself in front of Angelina.” 

____________________

Approximately 4 in the morning, Y/N and George separated ways as they sneaked back into their house common rooms. As the Slytherin turned to the next corner to the hall, she was greeted by the sight of her cat’s tail, Lixie on its way back to her quarters as well. 

“Lixie!” She called out, rather too loudly, making her flinch and look around the halls to make sure that no one caught her. After concluding that the coast was clear, she turned her attention back to the Siamese cat, questioning him, this time in a much more hushed tone. “What are you doing here? What did I say about leaving the quarters without my permission?” 

“I was with little Ginny! You didn’t bring me to the quidditch finals! Good thing she took me.” Lixie replied, suddenly jumping on Y/N’s arms. “Now carry me to make up for it.” He demanded, nuzzling his body to the girl’s warm embrace. 

“Even so! You should have had Mira to tell me or something. You know how worried I get.” She scolded. 

“No, you’re too busy with a lover boy to be worried about me.” Lixie commented. “Besides, if I didn’t leave the quarters, you would have gotten your heart broken.” 

Y/N stopped in her tracks, looking down at Lixie as confusion flooded her mind. “What do you mean?” 

End of Chapter 5

____________________

Taglist: @abrunettefangirlnerd​ @gloryekaterina​ @lilypad-55449​ @memekingofwwiii​ @leovaldez37

[thesubtlegatsby]

if ur dnd homebrew has a pantheon, talk about its deities!!!

i am going to answer this if i were an overconfident 19 year old in his first creative writing class after a teenagerhood of only reading hemmingway.

once upon a time i created a pantheon for a small and isolated collection of rpers on a site for friends only. i did this because i wanted to and fantasy should have its own religion, so i puttered through the creation of a smattering of simple gods, lovingly stealing the best and most reliable tropes while inverting the ones that bored me. death remained complex and seething with darkness, justice was prone to its own rule-breaking, and thieves hid behind smirks as much as cloaks - but where saddened wives also held vengeance in their bloody hands and love was not designed with passion in mind, but the rounded and well-fed hearth and home where it dwells most comfortably and with the least drama.

the problem with gods is, once you name them, they demand worship. the problem with these gods, is i was the only one left to pay them any mind.

so pay them i did. i paid them in hours of scribbled notes and a new world, not one they were crafted to fit but one crafted to fit them, one where the beginning was theirs as much as the ending and every step along the way was filled with their worship, their mark, and their handiwork.

then i did something i didn't expect to. i killed one of them. i left the hole where she stood, an empty space in the fabric of creation that made your skull itch if you looked too closely at it but underneath the false veneer of godly immortality i hid the truth that gods could be killed and one of them had killed the other. or at least made it look that way - she had stolen what made this goddess a goddess and left her a broken and confused shell of her former self while the world spun madly on without her.

i did all of this before i even sent out a message saying i would be running a campaign.

poetry aside, here's brief descriptions of the pantheon:

Tophyros: god of the sky, dragons, and justice. firm, fair, and so tired of his long long life, tophyros is the backbone of Lucidion's religion and father, brother, or husband to every god known to exist. his major flaw is that lawful is not enough but he thinks it is, so his judgments are flawed for their lack of forgiveness.

Ygriva: his wife, goddess of marriage, women, childbirth, victory, and vengeance. for her i picked up hera and went "what if she knew she was right and also had a knife?" while tophyros putters around with the Above Board Solutions, Ygriva slips back and forth between slipping poisons in opportune mouths and appearing the dutiful wife.

Skyrozh: Tophyros' brother, god of death, ice, and lies. he was once content with his fate in the underworld as its arbiter but has grown weary and has begun his second attempt to free himself and wage war against those who would keep him trapped. Well, that's how the story goes. In truth, something has been taken from him, and its loss has corrupted him beyond recognition, the caring hand of death replaced with a god who corrupts resting souls themselves to fill his armies.

Goldozath: son of ygriva and tophyros (as all gods following him on this list are) and god of war, revelry, fire, and tactics. he is as much the flow of blood on the battlefield as he is the flow of wine at the feast following a surrender. Goldozath was killed in the first war with Skyrozh, but his champion at the time was able to absorb his godhead and take his place without mortals becoming aware. This replacement puts a much heftier emphasis on the party part of his new godhood than the original god.

Zenrava: goddess of magic, secrets, rituals, and knowledge. she created the elves and was jealous that her sister's creation, the humans, were preferred, and nursed that spite for generations. Zenrava pulled magic out of the world when the war began to protect the souls of the elves in an afterlife separate from Skyrozh's, but the very same sister used her champion to return magic to the mortal races, and for this slight among the others, Zenrava ripped away her godhood and hid it, rewriting the knowledge of the world as if she had never existed.

Trensicaya: goddess of the earth, beauty, music, the hunt. she created the dwarves as well as the lute, and is a no-nonsense goddess who is worshipped quite popularly for being responsible for harvests. the major fall festivals are all in her name, and winter itself is said to be when she leaves the mortal realm to hunt in more dangerous fields for a season. She nursed her own resentment of their youngest sister and assisted Zenrava in keeping the secret of their sister's de-godding.

Tamrohx: god of thieves, merchants, luck, and tricks. Trensicaya's twin. he's a little shit with his own band of followers who are basically a glorious little thieves guild. he has six fingers on each hand which he finds super helpful for sleight of hand tricks. he created goblins to help him with his schemes but lost control of them, and the descendants of these escaped goblins are how common goblins came to be.

Rioh: god of rivers, ocean, storms, health, and chastity. for this i went "how do i make the god of chastity look as slutty as possible" and the answer was wet twink who doesnt have sex. he's the most like tophyros in that he's got a lot of rules he likes to follow, but he's much softer with his followers than his father is. one of his champions, Eost, created a river that allowed civilization to expand into the desert, but part of the magic used to anchor the river also cursed the land around its source and now people who live there turn into alligator monsters.

Diraeus: god of the sun, the moon, travel, and choice. he is also two gods - raes, god of the sun, and dirus, god of the moon. when all is well, diraeus cycles both celestial chariots through the sky. when conflict splits the gods, he shatters, Raes standing stalwart at Tophyros' side and dirus often siding with Skyrozh's schemes and helping to hide his plots from the other gods. the campaign began with diraeus splitting and Dirus knocking Raes out of the sky entirely, plunging the world into night.

last is Amaliana, the tenth god. She was killed and forgotten, the mortals having no trace of her existence and the gods all believing her dead. As mentioned, however, Zenrava did not kill her but hid her godhood from her and left her physical form wandering the world, while trensicaya assisted with the coverup. she is the goddess of the hearth, of love, and of family.

and she gave the group their first quest without them knowing it was her.

[intheoryowl]

Diversity in KOTLC

[While commenting on this post please don't post spoilers for Unlocked just yet. Thanks. This post may contain legacy spoilers. This post is a repost of my Wattpad post that I made in Sunflower Crown called Diversity in KOTLC, so if you’ve seen this already please feel free to skip it. This post lines up with MLK day, but it was originally posted in reaction to Shannon Messenger announcing the live action movies.]

[Edit: Okay, after typing this post up I realize that there are a few more characters that are POC, but they’re not prominent at all, so the representation is still miniscule. They were mentioned, like, twice throughout the entire series. So, my point still stands.]

What's one thing you notice about the photo above?

Oh, yeah. All the characters are white, expect for the last three in the photo, which are all conveniently tacked onto the end.

Let's address the elephant in the room for everyone in the Keeper of the Lost Cities fandom. Recently, I've been thinking a lot about how little diversity there is within the cast, especially within the main group. I've been meaning to make a post about this since the #BLM movement started up, but I never got around to it.

I've found that a lot of the people in the fandom have been incredibly shy about having this conversation, but I think it's really time we have it. The cast contains very little diversity.

Disclaimer: Before anyone comes at me for this post, I'd like to first say that I've  been a huge KOTLC fan and a big fan of Shannon Messenger's work for a  long time. This isn't meant to be any sort of hate post, but instead a conversation I think we all need to have.

Let's start with the format of the art up above^.

First of all, out of eight characters 3 of them are POCs (or not white). Wylie isn't even in the main group/doesn't really enter the story until much later in the series. The same goes for Linh and Tam. They're all tacked onto the end of the photo, like they're just add-ons.

These three characters are the only characters I know the race of that are POC characters. Out of the entire series. Yes, the entire series. [And I would say that's the case for most people that aren't superfans or recently phased out of the series before art was starting to be released.] I wouldn't say I'm the biggest fan out there, but there aren't that many prominent characters in KOTLC, and just about every single one of them is white.

It feels like a last-ditch throw in when Shannon Messenger went *oops I forgot about diversity entirely!!*. I mean, think about it. Tam, Linh, and Wylie entered the series later on than everyone else.

The lack of diversity, quite frankly, I find ridiculous. And not even just because there are three characters out of eight in that photo (one of which that is POC isn't even in the main group, nevermind the original main group) are POC, and prominent characters. Not only is there a lack of diversity when it comes to race/features that aren't white, but Shannon Messenger also includes exactly zero LGBTQ+ representation throughout the entire series. There is nothing hinted, nothing said. Gender norms are never addressed in the story, and that's fine. But for there to be no gay/pan/aro/ace/freaking anything on the spectrum representation?? No trans representation? Non-binary? Hello??? I get that when she started the series LGBTQ+ characters might not have been something you saw in every single book, but even as new characters are added in we see absolutely no LGBTQ+ representation still. There's not even anyone questioning their sexuality or their gender identity. Nowadays, that's not only a huge part of being a teenager (I would know, I'm one), but also just something you would think is key in the identity of a character.

As a writer, when I start writing a book, one of the first things I do is make sure I know who I want my characters to be. Gender identity, race, sexuality, all of this - these are such fundamental parts to a character. Truthfully, i don't understand how you could just overlook them whatsoever. It's a choice you have to make, not a default setting that's already been turned on for you. I think - even to someone incredibly racist - that as an author writing a book, one would be aware of the outward appearance of their characters? Or the fact that all of the characters had one very certain thing in common? It's hard to miss, frankly, and it looks really bad.

There's really no excuse for it at the end of the day. You can't explain away the facts, and the facts are that the lack of diversity within KOTLC is concerning.

With KOTLC as well, the book doesn't even center around identity for the most part. It's fantasy, and that's what runs the plot, not someone's struggles with race. It really would've been just that easy for Shannon Messenger to throw in a few POC characters or people that weren't straight, maybe mention it in passing, and be done with it and we wouldn't even be having this conversation.

Another thing I'd like to bring up is the microaggressive character arcs of Linh and Tam song, the only two out of the entire central friend group that are diverse characters. (they appear to have some sort of asian heritage, in case you never caught that. But I bet you did with their very distinctly Chinese last names.) When Tam and Linh first appear in the book, they're suspected delinquents and exiled for crimes to a school of people that have been outcasted from society. They're seen as outsiders. During the story, we see the both of them climbing their way up in the ranks through hard work & connections. unlike everyone else who is going to Foxfire from the start, and we don't see them as nobility at first at all. Not only do the twins come into the story late, but they start out being pinned as supposed criminals (for going to their school which they were wrongly exiled to) and being the underdogs.

Twins are also scorned and families in the Lost Cities with twins are highly stigmatized. Same thing, the only two Asian characters in the entire series and they're the ones who have to be scorned instead of the white ones.

I'm sorry, but that rubs me the wrong way. it seems incredibly microaggressive to me. You're telling me that the only two characters of color [in the main group] are portrayed this way by accident? You couldn't have chosen any one of your fourteen white characters to play the role? Please.

Also, this might be a reach, but is there colorism also present in the KOTLC cast? The type of Asian that Linh and Tam seem to be (Eastern - Chinese, Japanese, Korean, etc) have a very light skin tone. Throughout all of KOTLC, the only skin tone darker than white is Wylie's character, who is obviously African-American. There is no one that looks Latina [okay, there is, it's Jensi who was mentioned twice in the first two books and never again], a different kind of Asian,  Romanian, Indian, Middle Eastern, nothing. Actually, you know what, it's not a reach. You're telling me that objectively based on facts, there is only one character out of the entire KOTLC universe that's skin tone is darker than paper? That's the standard?

To that I say: get outta here.

I'm not convinced that Shannon Messenger - as much as I love and adore her writing and her book series - ever truly cared about diversity and inclusivity among her characters. There's no representation other than straight, white, male, female, two Asians, and a single African American character (out of anyone who actually matters). That's it. Statistically speaking.

That's ridiculous.

[This is a later edit: someone in the comments also pointed out that the Lost Cities are located all over the world, meaning that having a mainly white cast also is whitewashing? This only gets worse the more you think about it, ugh.]

I understand that the majority of the KOTLC fanbase is very young. Believe me, I do. I'm probably one of the older fans that has been here for a while/still is here. Most people my age have moved on to fangirling over the Umbrella Academy or something. I get it. But I do believe that even twelve year olds can understand what I'm saying, stay informed, spread awareness, and think critically.  

One of the reasons I think Shannon hasn't been called out nearly as much for the lack of diversity and representation in her stories is because she has such a young readerbase. That's fine. I don't expect people that are ten and twelve to be thinking about any of this. It never occurred to me at the age, so why would it occur to you unless someone else brought it up first?

That said, now that I have brought it up, I think that the least you can do is have conversations with your friends, tag a few people, and think critically about the casts of your favorite books/people you stan. If you're not speaking up, it makes you look like you don't care that there's absolutely zero representation and diversity in the KOTLC series. And you should care.

Keeper of the Lost Cities is a very white, straight series. What does this mean? It means that it's inherently racist, likely colorist, and not currently supportive of any LGBTQ+ people on any LGBTQ+ spectrum. People out there just like you (if you're white) aren't seeing themselves in stories or media. Instead, they're being told that only if you have European heritage or a lighter skin tone can you be a hero. It's harmful. And we need to speak out against it.

[Not to mention that there are no different body types. This post was just on core character identity, and nothing else. As my friend StickyCarpet put in a conversation, what about religions? Do all elves believe the same things? There's very little identity variation between characters beyond their personalities.]

The reason I want to speak out so strongly now, is because as you may know, KOTLC is being made into a live-action series of movies. On screen, it's going to be even more visible and in-your-face that there's no representation. You know what that says to everyone who wasn't represented at least a little bit (or well)? It says we don't see you because we don't approve of who you are, which is just such an awful message to send. In the movies, it's going to be super important for especially younger readers to see themselves on screen. I don't want these movies to just be another movie chock-full of straight white people. It's time for change. This was never something that should've been the standard, so we need to try extremely hard to change it.

By no means will that magically fix or amend the fact that Shannon Messenger chose to put just about zero diversity into the story in the first place, but it will at least show that she's trying beyond throwing a few new characters with different skin tones in after people start calling her out for it.

Keeper of the Lost Cities is my favorite or second favorite series, and it was (and always will be) a huge part of my childhood. I'm a huge fan of the series myself, but I want to make my opinion on this subject very clear and encourage you to form your own opinion on it. I don't have instagram or socials, but I do have a large platform on Wattpad to spread awareness with. Please spread the message.

Please, if you can, tag people from the fandom in the comments. Share this post. Reblog it on tumblr or post it on instagram. We need to get the conversation started. It's not enough to just sit here and pretend like we're all okay with the fact that the series we all love is grossly unrepresentative/not diverse.

In the external link, you will find a carrd leading to Ways to Help & be a part of the #BlackLivesMatter movement, including ways that don't involve money. In my bio, there's a link that goes to all crisis resources around the globe with links to causes. Please feel free to share and utilize both links.

Thank you very much for reading & (hopefully) spreading the message/awareness with me! Your favorite series and author(?) possibly being racist is something that's harder to come to terms with, even for me at my age, so please don't blame yourself for everything and just try to help as much as you can ♡

[Please feel free to reblog and repost on any platform anywhere as necessary. Spreading the message regardless is much appreciated!]

[siswritesyanderes]

Could you write about the Weasley twins who share a SO (who is a bit of a prankster herself), but she starts to realise that the twins' pranks are aimed at people she interacts with and are getting a little bit darker and becomes concerned/confronts them? Thank you! 💘

She really hadn’t been pranking people to get the twins’ attention, as much as they acted as though her earlier endeavors had been some sort of an audition process to be one of them.

If she had been trying to get their attention, she would have done flashier pranks, not just transfiguring people’s quill pens into carrots right before they used them or charming people’s eyebrows different colors. She pranked people because it was fun, not because the School Pranksters might take an interest.

Still, one day, while she was on her way to her normal study table with her normal study group (not in the library, because it was too quiet, but in an unused classroom), one of the twins (later, she would know that it was George) caught her elbow and pulled her into an alcove behind a suit of armor.

“I wouldn’t go in there,” he said confidentially.

“Why?” she whispered.

The other twin, Fred, entered the alcove, too, then, effectively sandwiching you between him and his brother. “Peeves just went in,” he clarified. “Two sickles says he’s going to throw dung bombs around.”

“You’re on,” George chuckled. “The Filibusters are the obvious choice.”

“Filibusters?” she repeated.

“Dr. Filibuster’s Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks,” George explained.

“Does Peeves even have those?” Surely if the poltergeist had fireworks at his disposal, she would have already known about it.

“He does now,” George said.

“We may have been influencing him today,” Fred confessed unabashedly. “I mentioned dung bombs, George mentioned fireworks” (Already you were special, in that he didn’t call his brother by the wrong name to confuse you.) “and now we’ll see which he chooses.”

“There’s no way he doesn’t go with both,” she said. 

And at that moment, the classroom across from them erupted with both multicolored sprinkles of light and the most awful smells imaginable. Her study group ran out, startled and disgusted and shouting expletives at Peeves.

“She was right,” the twins observed in unison.

“Pay up,” she teased lightly, slipping out of the alcove, and was surprised when they actually did.

She had thought that it was a one-time incident, that they had just happened to see her about to enter a room under siege by Peeves and pulled her aside. In the days that followed, however, she would be walking down the hallway, on the way to classes or meals, and suddenly find one of them on either side of her, sandwiching her between them yet again, and they would weave her into their conversation.

They didn’t even give context; just spontaneously asked her to agree with one of them, and she played along because they were funny and high-energy and a part of her was greatly flattered by their interest.

They told her secrets, gradually: 

They showed her how they got from place to place in the school so quickly, and how they got out of the school so secretively. 

They explained to her the key elements of a proper prank, which were timing, fecundity (a word that she had been floored to hear them use), obliquity (same shock), and target. (“What about the element of surprise?” she had asked, to which they had answered: “That’s all in timing.” “And obliquity.” “And target, a bit.”)

They told her about how they shared everything, that even exchanging money between themselves when they made random bets with each other was just a formality; there was nothing that belonged to Fred that did not also belong to George, and vice versa. 

They let her in on a nuance of freckle placement and ear shape that could help her tell them apart (which they stressed that she could not tell anyone else, because even their family didn’t know).

She wasn’t sure why she was special to them, but it seemed she was. She liked to be. Every time they each caught one of her hands and ran with her between to hide behind some tree or tapestry and watch some practical joke play out, her heart fluttered with excitement and warmth.

She had had friends before, and she even had a few other friends now, but none close like this. 

Her study group dissolved, since Peeves seemed to have made it his singular duty, after that first time, to ruin every single one of their subsequent meetings. She sat with different people in the classes she didn’t share with Fred and George; in the classes they did share, she sat between them. Of course.

Walking between the twins, sitting between them…And they did, she eventually noticed, always seem to position her between them. She joked about it once:“If we’re feeling crazy, how about I walk on the left today.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Fred chuckled. “If you’re on our left…”

“…then that means someone else can walk on your left,” George finished for him.

“Can’t have that. You walk with us.”

Maybe it was something lacing the seemingly-light tone, or even just something in the words themselves, but it was the first time she felt any strangeness about the situation; somehow she felt that something dark had just been acknowledged, something deeper than it seemed at first glance. But then, a moment later (as though they had noticed her well-veiled perturbation), the twins asked her if she wanted to go to the Three Broomsticks with them on the coming Hogsmeade weekend- clarifying, in unison, “As a date,” -and she mentally discarded her earlier reservations. It turned out, the “dark” something that she thought she had identified was merely romantic intent. Trust her to be given probably-obvious signs of romantic affection and assume that something was wrong. She was silly.

She accepted their invitation, and she accepted it when George straightforwardly told her, at the Three Broomsticks, “Just to be clear, we are dating now. You are dating us.”

Why wouldn’t she? They were her best friends, she liked them, and everything was fine, and also it was possible that she had a slight, slight feeling that maybe possibly things wouldn’t be fine if she turned them down, but it wasn’t because they were threatening at all; they were the best, she had never been treated so well by any friend, but also

Well okay, it was just sort of weird how she seemed to know the name of every single person they pranked? Or not every person, she was sure that wasn’t quite true but just…It seemed that none of the larger-scale pranks were ever pulled on miscellaneous, unrecognized faces from the school. It was always someone she sat with in some class, or someone whose essay she helped revise, or…

But that was a silly thing to notice, because it wasn’t that big of a deal. No one got hurt or anything. The twins just seemed to hold particular grudges against people they saw her talking to. They never brought it up to her or acted ostensibly jealous, but they did always seem to drag her away from other people…

Anyway, they were dating now, and most things about their relationship stayed the same, except now the twins were more…omnipresent?

They were outside her classes promptly when they ended to walk her to the next one. Even on the rare occasions when she had to walk down the hall during classtime (like once when she had been given a message from Professor Snape to give to Professor McGonagall), they tended to emerge from their passageways to accompany her.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” she teased, instead of asking how they had known where she was. They had told her about the Marauders Map, but they had also told her that they didn’t have it anymore.

(In fact, though she couldn’t know this, the coins that they had given her during their first interaction had been enchanted to tell them where she was at all times, and also enchanted to never be spent.)

“Puking pastils,” George said simply.

“Where’re you headed?” Fred asked, reaching to carry her bag.

They were chivalrous, too. Always holding her things for her and opening doors and casting non-slip spells on her shoes when it was wet out. On the rare occasions when the twins had disagreements (generally about small things, like which Hogsmeade shop to visit next), they asked her to decide for them, and the loser (or losers, as sometimes she didn’t agree with either one) never grumbled.

And it was all very, very lovely. 

She loved sitting in various secret passageways with them (between them), telling jokes and chatting about life and once, after an exam that had followed a nearly-all-night study session, dozing off with her head in Fred’s lap and her midsection in George’s, with George’s hands rubbing her back and Fred’s hand carding through her hair. 

She loved it when they ran to her after Quidditch matches and tackled her into a hug, enclosing her between them and kissing her face or neck almost hungrily.  

She loved sneaking into the kitchens with them at night and eating snacks and befriending the house elves and “Oh, Merlin’s toes, you can’t possibly be jealous of a house elf!”

“We’re not jealous; -”

“You’d know if we were jealous.”

“-Fred merely asked if you’d like us to leave you two alone for a minute.”

She threw her partially-eaten dinner roll at George, and both of them retaliated, throwing their own rolls at her.

They were fun, and sweet, and…

Alright, so she didn’t want to bring it up again, because she had already raised the issue with them once, but the boy who sat next to her in Divination was still in the Hospital Wing and it was technically because of their prank, and they had explained that it wasn’t really their fault that he had antagonized the blast-ended skrewt they had snuck into his bag, and she was sure that the prank was meant to have been harmless- it couldn’t be their fault that he had been so high on the owlery stairs when he discovered it -but all the same she was a bit concerned.

“Which of us do you think loves you more?” Fred asked her, with a confident smile, in the dark of an underground tunnel illuminated only by the candles they had brought. They had been dating for two months, today, and as such they were celebrating with a bit of a picnic. Colton from Divination was long out of the Hospital Wing, now, but Pamela from Muggle Studies was newly in it, and Franklin, the acquaintance who had given her his copy of Quidditch Through the Ages, had only just been released yesterday, and it was with no shortage of trepidation that she was beginning to acknowledge to herself that a pattern was forming, regarding unfortunate accidents emerging from pranks against people she knew, though the twins still professed their own pure intentions.

“Whichever one of you lets me eat your chocolate frog?” she teased lightly, running an affectionate hand through each crimson head of hair. Joking and affection were the safe territories, she found.

That wasn’t to say that the twins were ever unsafe, to her at any rate; they had never hurt her, or even given any indication that they ever would.

It was just…If she pushed the wrong buttons, they said odd things.

For example, once she had said to them, in an attempt at addressing the issue in a lighthearted way, “I don’t think your pranks ever used to go wrong this often; maybe I’m the problem.”

Fred merely chuckled and said, “Just what difference would it make if you were?”

“Come off it; if I’m the reason your pranks keep going wrong, then by all means cut me loose.” (It was her first and only attempt at sowing the seeds of a potential breakup.)

“Or we could cut you off, from all these stupid people who don’t know how to be pranked properly,” George suggested.

“As for you,” Fred said, hooking his arm through hers, “you’re ours.”

“And nothing that belongs to us is ever the problem.”

With mock-indignation to mask her real discomfort, she objected, “I believe I belong to myself!”

“Sure,” Fred agreed offhandedly, “but the self that you belong to, belongs to us.”

They said those sorts of things only if she brought up unsafe topics, so she didn’t anymore. She stayed in the shallow end, the teasing and kissing. She kept her distance from other people to minimize collateral damage, at least where they could see.

The girls’ dormitory and girls’ bathrooms were the only places where she risked confiding in other people, although even there she only spoke in vague terms, eliciting advice but not providing too much information. One girl, Trianna, was adamant that the only solution was to break up with the twins.

Trianna disappeared a day after saying so, and once she had been gone a full two days with no leads or trace of her, the problem became unavoidable.

“What did you do?” she demanded of the twins as they walked her to lunch.

“I’m missing context,” Fred said. “What do you mean?”

“Where did Trianna go?”

“Vanishing Cabinet,” George answered straightforwardly. “From there, who’s to say? Cabinet’s actually broken, so she might have gone nowhere.”

“Why do you ask?” Fred queried.

She stopped walking, so the twins stopped walking, both watching her and waiting for her to speak.

“You can’t keep doing this! How did you even know that we talked?”

“Oh, there are secret passageways that open all sorts of places,” Fred replied, still unfailingly lighthearted.

“And Peeves keeps an ear out when we can’t,” George added.

“He knows that you’re ours and that we’d do anything to keep you.”

“He likes the chaos.”

She took a deep breath. “I think we need to take a break.”

George laughed, slipping his hand into hers. “You can think whatever you like.”

Fred took her other hand and even swung it a little. “You can’t get rid of us.”

She pulled her hands roughly from theirs. “I can!”

“Ten knuts says you can’t.”

She stalked away, and they followed half a pace behind. Their legs were long enough that they could have caught up rather easily, but they seemed content, maybe even amused, to linger just at the hem of her robes. It infuriated her all the more.

[thewritingof-therose]

From THIS, for @megumi-tan

Note: Most of them have been thought with a Illidan/Maiev relationship, even if it isn’t explicitly told. So, if you have doubt about it, you can assume that there is something between them but I simply decided to talk about something else.

Enjoy!

Heartstone/Yu-Gi-Oh:

Maiev is playing only with a DH deck and is actually a "mysterious" participant because she doesn't want to admit using it. 

Illidan was mostly using a Mage deck but then, felt the pressure to change to a DH one.

Illidan discovers that Maiev is the one who destroy everyone with the DH deck and he decides to blackmail her about it.

Maiev, a little ashamed to play with the DH deck, has no other choice but to accept the blackmail, expecting Illidan to want her to lose in the tournament but instead, they just spend time together and it's mostly for Illidan to analyze Maiev's way of playing to destroy her when they will be adversary.

The final match is between Illidan and Maiev (obviously) and they just keep taunting each other. But they give one impressive fight and the winner cannot be guessed until the very end.

Heroes of the Storm:

I unfortunately don’t know enough about the game to do that prompt ^^’

High priestess Maiev:

Tyrande would still have been chosen as the High Priestess but right after the end of the War of the Ancient, Malfurion became the Betrayer and as Illidan is lost and probably dead, she decides to put Maiev as the High Priestess while she becomes a Warden to stay with Malfurion.

Tyrande is the one who would release Malfurion, as he was technically the one who put an end to the War of the Ancient, but he goes rogue and try to harness the power of the Emerald Dream to gain in power and exterminate the Legion. Tyrande has no other choice but to kill him herself and after that, the Night Elves use a part of the power Malfurion was harnesting to blow up Archimonde, unfortunately taking Nordrassil with it. After that, Tyrande, who has nothing left, become Maiev’s personal bodyguard.

Within the timeline of Legion, when she hears about the news that Suramar survived and its citizens too, Maiev takes the decision to establish the contact and free the city from the Legion by herself. By the time the War of the Ancient started, she was living there and working in the Temple of Elune (the one on the Broken Shore) and Illidan was working as a mage for Elisande. She goes frontline, despite that she has to trust the adventurers to sneak in with the help of Thalyssra.

Thalyssra isn’t alone in her fight against Elisande and it’s said that inside the city, there’s a Nightborn who had been working for the Grand Magistrix’s demise for years but she doesn’t believe he is a real threat and imprisoned him inside the city's borders. From there, he’s organising a resistance and does his best to help Thalyssra. Of course, Maiev wants to meet him to see how she can help if she puts the Kaldorei’s forces against Elisande. Accompanied by Tyrande, she sneaks into the city and finally meet him. Only to discover that it’s Illidan, transformed in a Nightborn after getting stuck under the protective shield over ten thousands years ago.

To keep him within the city because he’s one of the more powerful mage of the city (and that she probably has a crush on him), Elisande put a spell on him that literally blocks him at the borders of the shield and we she gets killed, despite that Illidan does everything to get her to remove the spell, neither Elisande nor her death canceled it. It’s Maiev, praying to Elune, who remove the magical handcuff, finally freeing him of Suramar.

Step-siblings:

Every times Jarod gets too close to any of the Stormrage twins, Maiev come to pick him up and bring him away, glaring deadly at whoever it was.

Maiev was the more vocal over not wanting to be sibling with the Stormrage. Illidan was well decided to “gently” prank Maiev every times she is unpleasant with any of them. Malfurion doesn’t like the situation that much, but doesn’t dare to say anything, but most of Illidan’s prank actually come from him. Jarod don’t see any problems in any of this and don’t understand why Maiev react so badly.

Strangely enough, Maiev is supportive of Illidan’s mage vocation and often try to push him to be honest and tell the family he don’t want to be a druid.

When the twins realizes that Maiev is actually a really good addition to their prankster team, nothing stop them. Malfurion finds the plan; Maiev executes it; Illidan gets them out of trouble.

Malfurion and Tyrande get together quite quickly after Maiev decided that she didn’t want to spend years watching some petty love drama and put back some senses in their head. Illidan didn’t take it well but Maiev punched him back to reality (literally).

The orphan baby:

There’s a game of “you”, “no, you”, “YOU!”, “I said you!” going on between them to know which one will take care of the baby.

When the baby starts crying, Illidan goes full Illidad mode and Maiev has a moment of “Oh shit, that’s cute” before going back to her normal self and groaning about everything.

They agree on bringing them to Khadgar, because Khadgar is a human and he must know what to do, but when they get to him, Khadgar can only tell them that the best idea is to bring the child to the orphanage of Dalaran and they do that.

Illidan feels a little bad to have dropped the baby there without more than a second thoughts and decide to at least visit the baby from time to time. He’s extremely surprised to see that Maiev seemed to have the same idea as him and got there first.

They spend the day, bickering, but mostly taking care of the baby, even getting thanked by the Orphanage’s lady because there so much more orphans with the Legion’s invasion and she doing her best to take care of everyone but it’s really hard. By the end of the day, they silently agree to come back the next day.

Illidan loses his power and sight:

On the moment, almost everyone tried to convince him that there was another way and that he didn’t have to, but he brushes it off, telling them that it was nothing and that if it had to be done, then so be it. He told them he would be fine. He isn’t.

He’s spending all of his time, alone and now in the dark for good. Stuck in his thoughts, he regrets a lot but if someone come to talk to him, he’s joking and acting as if it wasn’t damaging him. He plays it so well that almost no one try to see if he’s really well or not. But for Maiev.

Having watched him for over ten thousands years, she can see that he isn’t alright at all and that all that joking is just a front. Once he’s alone, she goes to confront him about it. At first, she is angry and her speech shows it. But the angrier she is, the more Illidan denies being unwell and finally, Maiev realizes she’s taking the wrong path with him. She gets next to him and start speaking more softly, explaining to him that she knows him well enough to know he’s not fine and that she just wants to help him. He might have sacrificed his powers and sight, but it doesn’t mean he sacrificed his life. He ends up in her arms, crying.

Discreetly, Maiev begun to help Illidan to adjust to his new life. Wandering around without bumping in everything; learning to read in a special writing; doing some everyday life tasks. People around him can see that something had changed within Illidan but they don’t really dare to say anything.

At some point, Illidan decides to tell Maiev how sorry he is for everything that happened because of him and the decisions he took. All through the speech, she’s holding his hands.

WoD Alternate Azeroth Tyrande:

Illidan believes it’s a prank at first and obviously rejects her because he doesn’t want to in trouble more than he usually is. Then, he sees the Tyrande from his timeline and realizes there are two of them.

He’s extremely conflicted because on one hand, that WoD!Tyrande seems really genuine in her love for him, but on the other hand, he’s pretty sure he had given up all hope to see it happening and doesn’t really have feelings for her anymore.

Maiev offers to kill that Tyrande, as they already have their own.

Illidan is really tempted to gibe WoD!Tyrande a chance, but then, when he asks what happened to him in that timeline, he discovers that he still stuck in Barrow Deeps despite that what should have been the opening of the Dark Portal was long ago.

Then, Illidan decides that his new mission is to free his other self and let him with WoD!Tyrande, like that, it will be easier with his own feelings.

WoD Alternate Azeroth Maiev:

At first, Illidan doesn’t notice that it isn’t the Maiev from his timeline and he openly flirts back in hope to destabilize her but it only makes things worse.

When Maiev discovers the existence of WoD!Maiev, she feels extremely jealous over how she is open about her feelings and that actually, Illidan seems to be somewhat accepting of them. She never thought she would want to kill herself that bad. Thankfully, WoD!Maiev would fill the victim’s role perfectly.

Maiev, obviously, doesn’t admit her own feelings for Illidan and keep bad mouthing the other Maiev and how she cannot be trusted if she loves Illidan, that she is dangerous and crazy, while insulting Illidan a little because that’s how she shows that she loves him. Illidan thinks he noticed the jealousy coming from Maiev but he doesn’t dare to say anything because she still has knives on her.

Illidan doesn’t really like what is happening. One Maiev was enough for him to deal with and you can see him trying to escape the two women through Dalaran and the Broken Shore. At some point, he’s so desperate that he begs Khadgar to sheep him to hide him from them.

Illidan wakes up one morning with both Maiev cuddling him after they sneaked in his tent during the night and he has no other choices but to accept that new life.

Competing journalist:

The popularity of both journal is mainly made by the competition between Illidan and Maiev, this is why they still haven’t been fired from their jobs (and they do good job too).

Maiev tends to format her texts to leave out messages to Illidan, mostly calling him out or straight up insulting him. It’s now a game in her articles to find the secret message.

Illidan, more straight-forward, tends to bad mouth some “unknown” person in his articles. He pretends he’s playing a role with an intervenant who isn’t based on anyone but strangely enough, that “mysterious intervenant” seems to always reply to Maiev’s last articles.

At some point, Illidan decides to drop some bomb to boost the sales of his journals and let it slip that he might be in love with Maiev and he has a good laugh when he reads some reaction that the readers had. What he wasn’t expecting, is Maiev showing up at his house making a scene because how dare he saying such thing through some coded messages and not directly in her face. She obviously pretends not having feelings whatsoever, but why would he do that anyway?

They get on some agreement where they start to work together on all of their articles to create some incredible story that will boost the sales of both journals. And maybe that the love story that are creating isn’t entirely invented.

Anime school setting:

Maiev is the Student Council President and she’s is making sure that everyone is respecting the rules and she is almost feared by the students. Illidan is one of the bad boy of the school “too cool for school” kind of guy, who’s mostly spending his time trying to avoid classes and can be found outside school intimidating some other’s school gang. But he’s also one of the top students when it comes to grades and it frustrates a lot of people.

One day, as Maiev catch Illidan and his little gang trying to sneak out of school again, she defies him to a fight, telling him that the first to give up lose. If Maiev wins, Illidan is forced to go back to class and never try to sneak out again, becoming an exemplary student. If Illidan wins, he wins a pass to do whatever the hell he wants until the end of the school’s year and Maiev cannot say anything about it.

Illidan just laughs at that challenge and already see himself winning and even decides to be gentle with Maiev. At soon as the fight starts, she sends him on the floor and locks him in a position where he cannot move at all. Maiev whispers to him that he shouldn’t have underestimated her, and that if she had chosen a fight, it was because she knew she would win. At the same time, Illidan can see something new shining in her eyes and he straight up fall in love then, announce that Maiev had won.

After that day, not only is Maiev even more feared by the students, but Illidan is now causing less trouble than before. At least to the others students. Now, he’s spending all of his time bothering Maiev, mostly to recruit her into his little gang, knowing that he will never lose again if she is by his side. She’s annoyed, a lot, but at the same time, he’s also kind of taking care of her, bringing her foods, helping her when some students are making troubles. He’s pretending to have become her personal bodyguard, but anyone who saw the fight between them knows that it’s a lie.

Maiev ends up accepting to join him into a gang fight with a rival school, but only if her identity is hidden because there’s no way she will let anyone knows that she enjoy fighting actually. The “Illidari”, like they call themselves, looks at that newcomer suspiciously, but they don’t dare to say anything. They win, easily, and Maiev, who never had so much fun in years, is completely ready to join Illidan again for some fights, still hidden though.

IRL WoW Player:

Maiev is a Night Elf Rogue. She isn’t too much for PvP, always acting as if that part of herself is now behind her, but if you complain in the chat that someone is ganking you, she immediately groups you and she comes to annihilate the ganker. She then proceed to make them live hell until they log off. During the raid, you barely hear her on the vocal but when she speaks, it’s mostly to taunt Illidan about his gameplay, or to reminds of some mechanics.

Illidan is Night Elf Demon Hunter doing DPS. Big, big fan of Warcraft 3, he had been crying about DH not being playable since Vanilla and in the meantime, he was playing a human mage and when Cataclysm rolled in, he race changed to a Night Elf. When the DH had been finally announced for Legion, he pre-ordered the game at the second it was available and had been insufferable on the vocal of the guild for a long time. During the raid, he’s often telling about his life in between boss and only shut up once it the time to fight the boss.

Maiev and Illidan are constantly fighting over who’s the biggest DPS between the two, and if Illidan has to switch tank for a fight, you can hear Maiev whining about it because she can’t prove that she better than him. In those case, she often defy him in a duel to shows who’s the best between them.

The guild changed a lot after all those years but something sure, is that Maiev and Illidan knew each other since the beginning and despite that they seems to not get along with all their bickering, they always been seen together, always joining the same guild. Strangely enough, they have some kind of joke in vocal where Maiev is saying that she will punch Illidan, only to hear him immediately reacting as if he had really been punched. But more strangely, is that sometimes, they would swear they can hear Maiev’s voice coming from Illidan’s mic, when she is muted. But the guildmates don’t dare to ask anything about their privates life.

When they took down Argus in mythic, Maiev misclicked the mute option and all of the guild got the pleasure to hear how Illidan and Maiev were going to celebrate that victory and they only realized that they weren’t muted when Khadgar coughed loud enough to be heard through the headphone. Maiev didn’t speak at all from the rest of the evening and Illidan was barely speaking too, and if he did, you could hear the embarrassment in his voice.

[hillnerd]

Hi, I was reading an ask you answered on shipping and you mentioned that people don’t like the weasleys due to classism, which I’ve never thought of but definitely makes sense. Have you made any posts that expand on this? I’d be interested to read more

You know, I believe I haven’t made any long posts regarding this issue. Time to remedy that, eh?

I suppose it’s important to define what classism is and how it instructs our views on things in the first place.

It’s defined as: “prejudice against or in favor of people belonging to a particular social class.”

Classism is very much built into our social fabric, and almost always has. The social classes of Western society (which are the ones I’m dealing with as this is an HP post) have been highly structured for thousands of years. The names and qualifications may have altered over time, but in general there are always about 4-5 social classes.  Elite, Middle, Working, Poor being the general layout, with overlaps and extra subsets within each class.

On some level we are taught that ‘money doesn’t mean everything’- but that is constantly undermined by the continuance of the classist messages put forth in media and advertisements. We are bombarded by images of success meaning accumulated wealth. Every time there’s another holiday businesses can exploit for profit, they will trot out advertisements for cars, jewelry, toys, homes etc. And we’re supposed to buy into that mindset- to find objects to display our very worth, and convey worth to others. It’s ‘sexy’ to be ‘successful’ in these ways.

In fandoms there are certain tropes people gravitate to- and the rich man with nothing but time on his hands to shower his lover in riches? That is a highly beloved trope. Mournful giant mansions are ever so much more ‘interesting’ than a working class farmhouse.

Which brings us round to the Weasleys. They are very coded as working class/lower middle class, as well as ‘normal’ when it comes to looks, and red haired (which between their great numbers and red hair read as Irish Catholic to many audiences.) The father is tall, skinny and balding, the bother is short overweight and overworked. This is not the vision of ‘sexy and succesful’ we are told are the height of accomplishment. They aren’t glamourous, wealthy, or traditionally good looking. We know the Weasley kids all must deal with the reality of coming from a poor family. The twins bemoan the price of books in CoS, and we see Percy angry about his father’s lack of reputation- but the only child we see consistently dealing with the consequences of this poverty is Ron.

The consequences of being poor, and from a large family, are evident in many ways- and from the get go Ron is the only one we get to see them with.

The ‘look’ of wealth:

He’s in scruffy hand me downs, doesn’t have extra money to spend on things like sweets, has a fat old rat as a pet, and a wand that’s not even his own. This is all well and good when you’re eleven- but as he grows up, in some ways he’s expected to ‘be cooler’ ‘be sexier’ ‘be more together’- so when he’s still gangly, freckled, in crap clothes with a silly owl- well it’s not the sexy picture of wealth and success.

The confidence of wealth that comes with curating your life:

The confidence of wealth is something people expect others to exude as well. If you can’t be wealthy, then you’re supposed to at least be incredibly confident and self assured. The luxury of choice is denied Ron. He’s unable to have choices about anything, because it’s either except what you’re given, or go without (jumpers, sandwiches, pets, broken wands, dress robes, brooms etc). Ron is unable to curate his life at all. He can’t pick and choose much- and this comes across as ‘childish’ or ‘lazy’ to some. He is unable to be self actualized due to his wealth status (And the fact that he’s a teenage boy), and this is further compounded by the fact that he’s from a large family where all paths of selfactualization he could take, have already been taken- thus undermining anything he hopes to accomplish for himself until he’s out of school, minimum.

Classism as a means of bullying:

Ron is the only Weasley to be consistently mocked and belittled for his wealth status throughout the series. When we first meet Ron, Immediately his class is thrown in his face by Malfoy- and this is continued- coming to a head with the ‘Weasley is our King’ song, where he is sung at about how poor he is.

The emotional consequences of poverty are written off:

The poor are allowed to be poor as long as they never complain. But the moment they do, there tends to be a view of this as not only weak, but ‘ungrateful.’ How dare they not be happy to have what they have? How dare they not dociley and silently improve their status so we don’t have to hear them complain anymore?

Workingclass stereotypes at play:

Working class stereotypes are very much at play, especially when it comes to how people perceive Ron. Uncultured, stupid, lazy, violent, wife beaters etc. You see fandom littered with this view of him. And then it also likes to paint the Weasley women as the shrewish, provoking nag.

In some ways the Weasleys do fit into these stereotypes- the Weasleys are ready for a physical fight many times in the books, Mrs Weasley can be the nagging wife/mother stereotype, none of the youngest Weasleys are seen as erudite library lovers and instead are more sporty, and many of the Weasleys aren’t particularly motivated about school.

Rough and tumble is quickly painted as problematic and dangerous. Jovial and sporty is quickly painted as uncultured and lacking in intellectual pursuits. Lovingly protective is quickly painted as controlling and harmful. Being laid back about certain goals suddenly makes them lazy.

The thing is, when these same features come from other characters, they are not generally seen in that way.

Draco and his family are a prime example of that. The framing of these two families by fandom is tied to closely with class distinctions:

They are constantly threatening violence, both with fists (even if they are hired thugs) and wands- yet they aren’t painted as particularly prone towards violence.

Draco is never shown as particularly intelligent or learned- yet is portrayed that way by fandom despite his lack of accomplishments. His barbs aren’t even very intelligent- they’re just mean and sarcastic.

The Malfoys actually are controlling and harmful- they’ve abused house elves, threaten people left and right, and are highly influential- but that’s seemingly not as big a crime as Molly Weasley worrying over her children?

Draco is so supremely lazy he goes out of his way to have servants do things for him- including Ron in PoA- he does not earn his way onto te quidditch team- it’s given to him, along with new brooms for everyone. Yet Ron is seen as lazy because he’s not a school nerd, and Draco an erudite because he sarcastically comes up with barbs on the sidelines.

Meanwhile the Weasleys are fighting for justice, all of them are proving their intelligence and grit every book, the Weasleys are so loving and helpful that they take in other people (Harry and Hermione), are the ones making the parties at Gryffindor tower awesome, and are the main caretakers for the whole Order. They earn everything they ever have (with the exception being when Percy is handed a position in ootp  so they can manipulate him) and work hard to achieve everything they do. Ron puts in the time with his sweat and body- but it’s rarely recognized.

Classist tropes heavily enforced in the films

Steve Kloves heavily changed the Weasleys in the movies. He simplified them, made them pretty stupid, lazy, unloyal, and fearful. They are the bravest family in the books, but in the films it’s not really touched on. He loves making them look a joke, though. The films played heavily into classist tropes of dumb/funny poor people basically being kept around to amuse the middle and upper class.

It’s rare the actual merit of the Weasleys was shown, and so it re-enforced the stereoptypes people already had. Basically look up any ‘irish stereotype’ and it is heavily applied to the working class- and it seems this continues with the Weasleys.

Technically, with Arthur’s job, they are considered low middle class in many ways. He has a job that touches on the political, he knows people and has some modicum of influence. They own property. They are the ‘noble poor’ (which is very much set apart from the truly impoverished like Lupin,  problematic poor who are criminals and snatchers, or the slave-class poor of the elves.)

They struggle, though, to balance it all out- and in the films we see little of their merits. They are played for jokes throughout most of the series, and are rather cartoonish.

The actors are all very good- but they were given a script and followed it- and in the script it very much dictates buffoonery and silliness is the rule of the day for the Weasleys the majority of the time. When they are not cartoons, they are to stand idly and cry as they are victimized/put in danger (literally every single film with Ron) much of the fire is taken out of Mr Weasley in is Arthur v Lucius scenes, They just stand around as their home is burnt down. We don’t see any of them fight successfully except Molly Weasley, and few throwaway spells by Ginny and Ron towards the end of the series. Like… They are not shown as intelligent, fearsome, or important to the narrative/Harry much at all, despite their significance in the series. They’re window dressing, but not actual people.

The Malfoys are given more gravitas and reality, by contrast- and they added in moments of humanity and heroism even (such as the deleted scene of Draco tossing Harry his wand.)

Same for Curse Child. Draco’s journey as a father is important to the play- his son is one of the protagonists- meanwhile Ron is basically pure comedy, Ginny is quiet, and Rose is snotty and barely present.

CONCLUSION

Overall the treatment we’ve seen of the Weasleys both in the films, the play, and fandom shows a disdain/ambivalence towards them that seems steeped in the traditions of classism towards the working class. They’ve become a bunch of Punch and Judys, or bystanders, while the rest of the main cast is afforded a bit more dignity and gravitas. Their importance and power are minimized, and their internal struggles are minimized so that when they DO come up they are seen as out of nowhere (sometimes even mean), their cartoonishness is emphasized- and their overall character arcs/journeys are treated as jokes, because that is how the working class is treated in society.  I find it interesting that as JKR became more and more removed from the world of poverty she knew, the more cartoonish moments were added to the Weasleys. :P Just sayin’. She obviously still cares about them, but there is a difference in their treatment from the earlier books to the later in many ways- especially Ron- not even touching on how she let him be portrayed in the films and play.

[buttsonthebeach]

A Question of Understanding

@spectrestatus-recognised asked me to write for Dorian and Leas Lavellan, and I really enjoyed getting to dig in and think about their relationship and its nuances. Thank you for giving me something so interesting to tackle, and for trusting me with your characters!

Pairing: Leas Lavellan x Dorian

Rating: Teen for references to sex

********************

Dorian knew the conversation had to happen after the third time Leas felt the need to highlight their relationship in front of the assembled nobles of Skyhold.

“Everyone in this room knows the stories of Garahel, hero of the Fourth Blight. We do not deny his heroism. Is it such a leap in logic, then, to recognize that there are elves alive today who are heroes, or could be? We are not so different that we cannot coexist. I would think Dorian Pavus and I are a perfect example of that.”

Dorian forced a small smile to his lips, a hint of brightness to his expression, as the nobles turned to look at him where he stood by the door to the rotunda. He’d smiled charmingly at people he despised while dying inside. Plenty of times. This part was nothing new.

The new part was that the inward shrinking - the feeling of dying - came from the fact that a man had just announced he loved him in front of a crowded room of their peers, and not from something his father had said or done.

Dorian had always thought that a moment like that would make him feel happy - thrilled, even - not sick. He’d pushed the feeling away the first two times this happened, assuming it was just him growing used to the idea of a relationship being public, of being the paramour of the most famous man in Thedas after years of sneaking out of bedrooms and brothels in the wan light of dawn. But third time’s the charm, or so they say, and now he knew it was time to probe the feeling down to its root, and then to discuss it with Leas.

(Dorian really did wonder how he’d ended up in a situation where he was expected to be the one unearthing buried feelings and forcing others to discuss theirs. Miracles really were possible.)

So he held back at his place by the door to the rotunda, maintaining his smile for any nobles who walked past him and stared just a little too long. Leas had stepped down from his dais and was mingling amongst them, too, but he had not gotten far in the crowd yet, giving Dorian more time to think, like a man probing a bruise, looking for the part that hurt the worst. The most obvious pain was that Leas had already done this twice before in explicitly political situations, like this one was today. The first time, it had been for a group of Chantry Mothers Leas had invited to Skyhold in order to entreat them to go into the alienages of Ferelden and provide aid directly to the elves there.

“You see?” Leas had said, gesturing to Dorian where he stood at his side. “We are not so different that we cannot love one another. That we do not need the same things from the Maker and his Bride. And is it not true that the Hero of Ferelden himself was a city elf, who rose from the city that scorned and reviled him to save all of the Thedas? What city would not benefit by inviting all of its subjects to contribute equally, and by equipping them to do so?”

Of course, Leas had needed the Chantry Mothers to believe him on that score, because Leliana wanted to establish a network of spies within the alienages in Ferelden, and this was a way of getting them increased aid without straining the Inquisition’s coffers. And Leas was sidestepping the fact that Mother Giselle had not been entirely wrong about the impact Dorian’s closeness was having on Leas’s reputation. Dorian had heard Josephine muttering to herself about letters she wrote to Orlesian dignitaries, assuring them that the Tevene court did not have undue influence over the Inquisition, that Dorian Pavus was in fact estranged from his magister father and had done nothing to advance Tevene interests in his time with the Inquisition.

So there was the second pang he felt, Dorian decided as Leas moved to another group of nobles, this one a little closer to his position by the rotunda. Not only had this happened because of political needs in all three cases, Leas was also acting as his usual idealistic self each time. For every noble that he planted a seed in, turning them towards a kinder and more inclusive Thedas, he planted at least two other seeds of doubt about his ties to Tevinter. Word of their meeting with the aforementioned Halward Pavus had leaked, after all, or so Leliana had said. And that was a meeting Leas himself had encouraged, insisting it was better for Dorian to talk to his father.

“You only get one of those, you know. Fathers. I’d be heartbroken if I reached out to Adhlean wanting to apologize for something I’d done, only for him to turn me away.”

You can’t have it both ways, Amatus, Dorian thought to himself as the pieces begin to draw together, like yet another game of chess. You can’t say that people have nothing to fear because I have forsaken my ties to Tevinter, and then asking me to re-knot the string.

But that was Leas, and Dorian would be lying to himself if that thought didn’t fill him with a warm, floating feeling. His idealism, and his tenacious conviction to those ideals, were part of what made him so alluring to so many - Dorian included. The way his blue eyes lit up when he talked about the things he was passionate about - it could make Dorian’s heart skip a beat.

Too bad half the nobles of Thedas probably didn’t have a heart left to skip any beats.

Or did they?

Because Leas was still moving from group to group, smiling, laughing, patting people he barely knew on the arm, throwing in the odd wink if the timing seemed right, and Dorian could see them softening towards him, being drawn in against their will.

And wasn’t that how Leas acted with Dorian? Even when they were alone?

Was he, in fact, just another noble who needed charming and converting? Another statement to be made? Another piece on the chessboard?

And that, Dorian realized, was the final nail in the coffin.

He was truly beginning to believe that Leas did not do this because he was a man so in love that he had to shout it from the rooftops. He was doing it because Dorian was a means to an end.

Yet that very thought was antithetical to Leas himself - he would never condone using someone outright. Dorian felt sure of it. Did he not realize he was doing it?

They had to talk.

Except, of course, that Leas was still milling from place to place, and his confounded schedule (which should be outlawed as a form of extreme torture) meant that he would not be ‘free’ for several more hours. It was time for the cultural exchange now, and then for disciplining any soldiers who had failed to desire said cultural exchange, to eat dinner while on his feet, and then to retreat to study, and then to attend to any tasks that he deemed miscellaneous, and then and only then - one hour before midnight - would he go to sleep.

Where in that madness was there time for Dorian?

Maybe he could steal a half hour of time from studying for his lover, though if he did, they would like as not have sex - not ordinarly a problem, but -

Come to think of it, most of the time it was what they did when they found time to themselves.

Dorian was finding it harder to breathe now. He wasn’t going to talk to Leas about all of this in public, anyway. He turned and slipped through the door into the rotunda, and headed back upstairs to his library. He might as well read more about Corypheus’s descendents, if he couldn’t be of any other use to anyone. Leas had gotten his use out of him that day anyway.

Don’t think of it that way. You know him better than that. Things simply need to be clarified.

“Pavus.”

Except, of course, Iselen was there, lifting up books, raising his eyebrows at them, and then returning them to the shelf as if they smelled vaguely offensive. He was the spitting image of Leas, his twin, but their demeanors were so different that Dorian had never once confused them. Leas radiated hope and energy. Iselen radiated disdain.

“Iselen,” Dorian returned evenly. “Could I help you find something?”

“I doubt it,” Iselen said. “Adhlean wished to choose something new to read. I insisted that he do so himself instead of hiding in his quarters. He must learn that there is nothing to fear here amongst the shemlen.”

Coming from Leas, the words would have had hope in them. Kindness. Coming from Iselen, they only had more distate. Leas would want his son to feel no fear because he wanted harmony amongst the peoples of Thedas. Iselen wanted his nephew to feel no fear because he considered it the birthright of all the elven people to overcome the others.

Dorian schooled himself not to give Iselen a snappish reply. Whatever his feelings about Iselen’s politics, he was Leas’s twin brother. He would never allow their relationship to form a wedge within the family.

“I am glad you are helping him overcome his fear,” Dorian said instead, coolly. He glanced around the bookshelf and saw Adhlean a few feet away. A skinny, skittish beanpole of a boy, all of ten years old. Adhlean glanced up, saw Dorian, and shrank back behind the bookcase, hiding himself. Dorian’s heart sank.

“Clearly not,” Iselen said dryly, having stepped out further to watch the exchange. He sighed. “I shall go correct him.”

“Certainly,” Dorian muttered once Iselen was out of earshot. “Correct him by giving him more tomes about the Fall of Arlathan to read. Especially the ones with all the drawings of the terrible magisters eating small elven children. That will correct his fear.”

Maybe Dorian really was making a fool of himself. He was a nobleman from a country that had systematically destroyed theirs. Modern humans had hardly been much kinder. But would Leas of all people really want his son to be raised on such fear? Shouldn’t his choice of Dorian as a partner be enough to show Adhlean that he had nothing to fear?

Except that thought brought his mind circling back to the idea that he was chosen for that reason and that reason alone. A figurehead, trapped in a relationship because of the appearance it created. The exact reason he’d fled Tevinter in the first place.

Dorian retreated from the library to his quarters, wishing he could retreat entirely, back into a time and place where these thoughts had not crystallized, hanging above him like so many glittering knives.

*

The knock on Dorian’s door startled him out of the family tree he was drawing, making sparks fly from his fingertips. He’d heard eight bells tolls recently, and hardly anyone would come to see him at this time of night - except Leas. Sure enough, that was the person on the other side of the door, smiling, those bright blue eyes that had given him his nickname shining forth from his pale skin.

“Amatus,” he said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“What do you mean, to what do you owe the pleasure?” Leas asked, stepping in closer, putting his hand on Dorian’s chest.

“I had not expected to see you this evening.”

Leas’s brows drew closer together, even as Dorian stepped aside to allow him in.

“I assumed that surprises were a welcome thing. At least between us.”

The words were like a pin, and Dorian felt some of the negative feelings that had been building within him leak out through the small hole it left.

“Of course it is. I am happy you have time for me today.” 

He brushed a kiss across Leas’s lips, even as he knew they were the wrong words, still too full of the bile that had soured his dinner. To his surprise, Leas leaned into the kiss, deepened it just a little. Dorian felt a rush of warmth through his body, could not help but put his hands on Leas’s back and hold him just that one inch closer, could not help but relax into the joy of such tenderness.

But the knives still hung above him. Still glittered.

“I know it isn’t very romantic to have to schedule time with your lover,” Leas said when they parted, though he remained close to Dorian. “Has it been bothering you?”

Here was his chance -

“Yes,” Dorian said, but the words that were meant to follow after stuck in his throat. When had he become this hesitant, this afraid?

Leas planted three plush kisses on Dorian’s lips.

“Well, I’m here now,” he murmured.

There it was - warmth and invitation and companionship and love and Dorian wanted to just sink into it, pretend everything was fine. Love was all pretend anyway, as far as he’d been able to see. Did it matter if Leas was the one who’d begun to make him question otherwise?

It did.

“Yes, you are here now,” Dorian said quietly, pulling back, taking both of Leas’s hands in his own. “And, amatus, I wanted to discuss this afternoon. The statements you made in front of the gathered nobles.”

Leas frowned. “About us? Are you ashamed?”

“Of course not!” Dorian retorted. “But I do wonder if you have quite considered -”

Leas withdrew his hands from Dorian’s.

“I assure you, I have considered it. Have you eaten? Let’s share a meal.”

Leas did not seem upset. He was smiling. Where had Dorian seen that odd, hollow smile before? When he had found Leas wracked with sadness because of something Iselen had said. How Leas was a flat-ear for choosing a human to be his lover. A traitor to their kind. That time, Leas had allowed Dorian to shelter him through the storm, to reassure him that he was not a traitor just because of who he’d fallen in love with, that Iselen was not right in this. It was a good change, to be the one offering comfort, after Leas helped Dorian through the encounter with his father, through losing Felix.

But then there had been the other times that Leas had not let him in. Like after Adamant, after the excruciating pain he was in as a somniari trapped in the Fade - I’m fine, arasha. I learned a lot from my time there. Nothing to worry about. Or all the times Leas seemed troubled by things from his past - his terrible memories of the Blight in Ferelden, the difficulties being a new, untrained somniari had caused him - and clammed up, refusing to allow Dorian to help him move through them.

Dorian was going to have to push.

“Leas,” he began again. “I still want to speak about earlier. I do not think you have considered the full implications of using our relationship so blatantly. It may look well and good from the stage, but from where I was standing -”

“Using?” Leas asked incredulously, as if he wasn’t even sure what the word could mean. “How on earth could I be using our relationship?”

“To advance your agenda, however admirable it may be.”

“I am simply stating what I believe. What everyone should believe.”

“And you know that I agree with it,” Dorian said, closing the growing gap between them, reaching for his hands again. “But to keep bringing it up at every chance you get, and in such a public forum - Mother Giselle and her kind are not completely wrong. Sometimes all that people will hear is the Inquisitor and his magister lover, and not the rest of what you wish to say. You should think about that angle, too.”

“I have thought about it,” Leas countered immediately, raising his chin, confident as the day was long. “I spend a lot of time thinking about and debating many things. Or did you not mean to allude to that when you alluded to my very busy schedule?”

“If you have thought about it, then why do you persist in doing it?” Dorian asked. “Do the benefits truly outweigh the costs? You seem to enjoy claiming reason is on your side and then ignoring the reason of others when they point out that it might not be. You were dogged in your determination to prove to me that I was wrong about slavery. You insisted I listen to reason. Why are you never willing to listen to the reason of others?”

“Because this is not the kind of thing I can compromise on. I am standing up for the kind of Thedas I want Adhlean to grow up in,” Leas said, a little hotter now, every bit as confident as before.

“So then we return to my main point - am I merely a statement to you?”

The words came out faster and more angry than Dorian necessarily intended. What had begun as a pinprick in his unease was a floodgate now. Knives falling from their precarious perches. Leas looked confused, once again as if he could truly have no idea what Dorian meant, and for the first time his naivete was not charming, but infuriating.

“Is that it, then? You knew the kind of Thedas you wanted, and so you chose the man who would look the best on your arm while you went about achieving it? Someone who would turn all the heads and set all the tongues wagging, so you could then tell them they were wrong for staring and for talking? Someone who was also happy to wait around for gaps in your schedule so you could sleep with them, and then leave? Was there no part of you that wanted to take me at my word and keep things between us simply about sex?”

Leas’s face did not change. Dorian felt a sort of wild desperation building within himself. A desperation to get him to say something, anything, that would prove this was all a misunderstanding.

“Or was it the other way around? Was it simply that I was the only person who wanted to warm your bed, and you realized belatedly that you could also use me to your political advantage?”

“No!” The word burst out of Leas’s lips, a bird flushed from cover. “No - stop. This is not at all how I envisioned this evening going.”

“You envisioned us having sex,” Dorian said flatly.

“Yes? And? Is my performance not satisfactory? I’ve never had complaints before.”

“No, my only complaint is that all this feels like lately is a performance. Do I mean anything to you at all?”

“You can’t mean that. This has all gotten out of hand for no reason.” Leas’s firm tone only made Dorian more angry. As if he was Adhlean - a child in need of discipline.

“What I am saying is not baseless. I have seen these patterns, Leas. I have seen them and I have tried to deny them and after tonight I cannot any longer.” Dorian ran a hand through his hair, an action he normally tried to resist after the amount of time it took to groom it every morning. “When I was in Tevinter, I knew the rules. I knew that whatever I had with any man, at the end of the day it could not go anywhere. I came here, and I met you, and I let myself start to believe that it could be otherwise. But maybe things are the same no matter what part of Thedas you are in. If I am right, then spare me any further embarrassment and tell me now that I mean nothing to you.”

“Of course you mean something to me. You mean everything to me,” Leas said, horrified now, and Dorian took a strange pleasure in that horror. He’d broken through the willful naivete, the stubborn refusal to discuss any weakness, any vulnerability. “I - I’m not good at this, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? Is that what you needed me to acknowledge? You know what it’s been like - my parents weren’t exactly the model relationship. I was a mess when I returned to my clan, and no one wanted to tolerate that mess. I’ve never done this before. I don’t know how relationships work. Maybe that means I should never have started this one, but I wanted something that was just mine. Something I could just - be foolish over. I guess I’ve been more foolish than I thought. Okay? Is that all you needed from me?”

Leas turned away, facing the door now, and Dorian was afraid he would go. His anger and fear were ebbing now. Leas would not lie to him, not when confronted so directly. So he did care. There was hope that this was real. Dorian put his hand on Leas’s shoulder.

“I am as surprised as anyone that I am expected to be the one of us who is good at navigating feelings and discussing them. I would not say that I am particularly good at it either. We - neither of us has lived a life that would give us the chance to be good at this whole relationship business, have we? ”

Leas turned now, following the gentle pressure of Dorian’s hand, and then Dorian moved the hand to his cheek.

“You a First and then a father before you were eighteen. Me, the scion of a family where feelings went out of fashion before Andraste burned in her pyre. I said it before - I never expected to have a relationship that was not a performance, or a secret. But I’ve had a glimpse of that with you now, and I don’t want to let it go. I want to know it really is real. Is that so selfish of me?”

He added a playful lilt to the last words, and it won him a small smile from Leas.

“Yes. Terribly, incredibly selfish. And rude.”

Dorian sighed dramatically, and then leaned his forehead against Leas’s.

“I do not enjoy playing the jealous or insecure lover, amatus. But I must admit again - it concerns me that you seem to enjoy flaunting our relationship for political gain. It concerns me that whenever we do have a moment together, it’s only about sex. It concerns me that our relationship might drive a wedge between you and your family.”

Leas rubbed his forehead against Dorian’s - a tiny gesture, but one that warmed him all the way to his toes.

“I was attracted to you because you were different and dangerous,” he admitted softly. “There was an allure there. But it wasn’t because I wanted to make a political statement. That was just - coincidence. The thing that drew me to you over and over again was the way you understood me, understood what it is like to be an outcast, understood what it was like to want to change things. You understood things about me that not even my brother or my clanmates understood. That first time I decided to draw attention to it was an impulsive decision. But I do care for you, Dorian. No matter what’s going on around us, or what other people think - I do care about you. If I need to change things to make this work, I will. I want to do that. I love you - or, shall I say, te amo. Did I get that right?”

Dorian closed his eyes and felt the tension between his shoulders ebb. He let the words run through his mind over and over and over again. He was seen and loved, and he loved in return. And to hear the words in his native tongue, to know that Leas had found time in the midst of the chaos of his life to learn Tevene, just for him.

“As I love you,” he said softly in reply.

“Shall I say that more often, arasha?” Leas asked. “Rearrange my schedule for more quiet moments and less sex?”

“Yes, and I think your entire schedule needs to be thrown out the window. I’m going to have words with Josephine about it, in fact.”

Leas laughed, the sound Dorian so loved, the sound that had carried across the snowswept hills of Haven, and now across Skyhold’s courtyards, tugging on the strings of his heart every time.

“I don’t need you to baby me. The schedule is fine. I can handle it. I’ll have you know that I can function perfectly well on one meal a day, anyway.”

“You cannot.”

“I can. I did survive eight weeks alone fleeing darkspawn at the tender age of fourteen, after all. And has my complexion suffered even a little just because I’ve cut back on sleep?”

There was a slight sway to their movements now as they stood there in Dorian’s small room, their arms laced around each other now.

“Do not ask me to call you unattractive. I won’t do it,” Dorian said. “But you could be even more magnificent if you took my advice.”

“The world couldn’t handle me if I was any more magnificent.”

Dorian kissed Leas then, harder and more passionate than before, because he was right,  and because Dorian loved him, and because Leas loved him back, and many things in their life were uncertain - there was a war raging outside this castle, after all, and a barely-contained magic seething in Leas’s left palm - but this one wasn’t any longer. Here, together, they had found each other - fought their way past their differences - and found a safe place to land. 

“The nickname I have for you,” Leas said when they parted. “Arasha. Do you know what it means?”

“I cannot say that I do.”

“It means my joy. And you are my joy, Dorian. I hope I can do a better job of showing you that.”

Dorian kissed him again, basked in the knowledge that he had been wrong. He wasn’t a port in a storm for Leas. They were making their own world, slowly but surely, and they were doing it together, slowly but surely, brick by brick, and stone by stone. A world where they could be safe together, whatever had happened before.

[autodiscothings]

Hello Secret Santa!

It occurs to me that just a vague link to the garbage fire that is my tumblr isn’t going to help you much, so I made a character reference guide for my idiots. 

If you’re unfamiliar with the Mass Effect universe (which you might be, or might need a refresher) I hope it’s useful. 

Kolyat Krios:

I don’t actually own him, I adopted him from BioWare. Kolyat is the son of Thane Krios, an infamous assassin. His childhood was not a nice one, but Kol got his life together after the war and decided not to murder people for a living like dear old dad did.

Kolyat is a drell, a scaled, bipedal race that are rare to the point of extinction in the universe, thanks to destroying their homeworld; only half a million of them exist, which is nothing. A large chunk of this population are subservient/lackeys to a jellyfish-like sentient race called the hanar, who use the drell to operate their machinery and fight for them, often from a young age. It is called the Compact agreement, and drell have worked off their debt for being ‘saved’ from their dying planet for centuries, with no sign of leaving it- yet.

Kolyat is not part of the Compact, nor does he have a hanar handler. In my Postwar ‘neon noir’ universe he is somewhat independent of his homeworld and lives on the Citadel; Kolyat is instead a 20-something detective in C-Sec, a job that defines him.

He lives on a mass, multispecies Ward on the space station -like DS9, but far more civilian- think NYC, London and Hong Kong on acid. Kolyat works for the station’s Homicide and Violent Crimes division; he finds the work fulfilling, but is a workaholic about solving the cases.

Kolyat’s a little bit grumpy, a little bit sarcastic, often prone to scowling. He is also a secret softy, despite the distant introversion- good with kids and pets, despite grumbling appearances. Once he trusts you enough to let you in, you have a friend for life, but he’s guarded about his past for good reasons.

Outfit wise, he’s a man who dresses for comfort, not style. He wears a constricting uniform all day, so his civvies are the 2190 equivalent of jogging bottoms and t-shirts. I mostly draw him in his battered leather jacket, but it’s fine without too.

His tag is: [HERE]. I have made outfit/inspiration sheets [HERE].

I actually really love his in game model, it’s not just a recolour of his dad. That chin! It’s truly excellent. Kolyat is head over heels in love (to his bafflement) with...

Oriana Lawson Lee:

They met at a postwar party on the Citadel, a few years after the Reapers were destroyed. I don’t actually own her either, I also adopted her from BioWare. She’s the sister/twin/clone of Miranda Lawson, but goes by her adopted family’s name of Lee.

Like Kolyat, Ori’s past isn’t a nice one; she was created in a laboratory to be a clone of her sister, a genetically perfect human. Ori was smuggled out as an infant to live a normal life for 19 years with her adopted family; during the war she was kidnapped and held at a space concentration camp by her creator, where he experimented on refugees and turned them into fodder for the war.

She survived, but has scars she keeps quiet about. Oriana is an ‘Ori’ to most people, and the kind of person in which the definition of charisma is usually applied to. She just has something that makes her noticeable- when she wants to. Ori is old Hollywood glam passed through a sci-fi filter, and is usually dressed to impress- often to a calculated degree. Feel free to go over the top with with pretty dresses and red carpet/gala looks, it’s very much her brand.

It’s not all sashaying around in heels, though. Oriana is also a structural engineer and colony developer for Kellam Industries, a sort of made up Doctors Without Borders/ Medecins Sans Frontier charity in the 2190s, and homes displaced refugees for a living. If you want to draw this side of her too, I will be just as delighted.

She and Kolyat seem like complete opposites, but are very much in love- even if they can’t work it out yet. Ori definitely keeps him on his toes; she’s guarded about her past, for obvious backstory reasons.

Ori’s tag is [HERE] and her wardrobe inspo tag is [HERE.] I have made two outfit/inspiration sheets [HERE] and [HERE].

I actually ignore the in game model, especially ME3′s horrible version. I don’t have a face claim for her, but I’ve drawn her plenty of times now for her to be distinctively her.  (I say, hopefully.)

Fish The Cat:

Fish is a standard short-haired cat that belongs to Kolyat, a stray he found and brought back home. She is as grumpy as her owner, but still the boss- Fish remains the absolute queen of their household.

She’s a grey-brown tabby with a white bib and matching socks; at one point she was overweight thanks to her food obsession, but Kolyat half-heartedly tries to keep it below chonk levels. Fish is very much his cat, the only one who she’ll let touch her/pet/etc. It seems Ori’s charm doesn’t actually work on belligerent cats at all, and Fish can be spiteful if she tries to hard.

Fish’s tag is [HERE]. She has no faceclaim (lol) but she’s just a standard tabby and white housecat you can find everywhere, really.

Detective Batesda “Bats” T’Lori:

T’Lori -Bats to his friends- is part of the same team/squad as Kolyat is in C-Sec. He’s also the closest thing Kolyat has to a best friend, which considering their personality difference, is hilarious.

Bats is a he/him asari. Asari are the universe’s space-elves, but female-presenting; his choice in pronouns is unusual for the setting, but accepted.

He will often roast the shit out of Kolyat on a daily basis. Bats is on paper is quite odious -a joker, never keeps the same lover around longer than a month, heavy drinker, titty obsessed, anime obsessive, lazy- but somehow has a certain charm that makes him get away with most of it.

Bats is an absolute powerhouse of a biotic (space wizard magic), and the squad’s heaviest hitter because of it. He dresses in practical clothing, but is fond of catsuits and one-pieces (no dresses.) He’s not a particular snazzy dresser, though, but is fond of wearing black and red.

Bats’ tag is [HERE]. I’ve used Ruby Rose a couple of times as reference for his face.

Detective Arjul Patel

Patel is part of the same team/squad as Kolyat in C-Sec, and self-appointed Squad Dad. He has somewhat gross traits; the one most likely to roll up his sleeve to show you his elbow rash, but he’ll also bring in candy and snacks he’s made for the crew.

He’s in his fifties, and has brown skin, warm brown eyes with a sly twinkle in them and a well combed head of black hair. Thanks to a steady diet of snacks, Patel has a little belly- he also has very impressive eyebrows that are very expressive. 

Patel is a born and bred Indian, but moved off world to a colony as soon as he was able. He has less art than the others; I have used Nawazuddin Siddiqui as a face ref for a few paintings, but softened his features every time. 

Patel’s tag is [HERE].

Thank you for reading all this!

Art of any of these characters is more than fine with me, but a combination of the above will probably make my christmas.

A lot of Kol and Ori is my headcanon interwoven with actual canon, if you’re reading it all and going “I don’t remember that” that’s why. All the fan wiki links are legit canon, though.

I write about them as well as draw them, hence the mass amount of words. Their stories are up on A03.

I also answer questions about the characters a great deal in asks and prompts, the tag is [HERE].

Feel free to send me asks via anon if you want to know anything else <3

[atom-bomb-baby]

Can you tell us more about Jade? Your cat girl

I have been waiting for this day for so fucking long.

Jade Peak of the Infinite Thicket clan, she is 26 and was born a Jaguar tabaxi. Her mother is named Ruby Flame and she has a twin brother named Opal Star who is a white tiger Tabaxi. Her mother really wanted kids but never fell in love so she found a donor and had the twins. (I just told my DM she never knew her dad and said her mom always told her. "You are mine and that is all that matters" he came up with the doner bit) She was 6 ft tall and lanky. She never wears armor only long flowy beautiful dresses. She loves music people and story telling. Currently a level 15 bard. Her favorite spells are Glibness and Magnificent Mansion.

Born with a love of music and a little bit too much curiosity, her mother quickly realized that she would take after her. At 16 she left the clan and started wondering and playing music. When she left her mother handed her a Cli lyre a fantastic magical musical instrument. Her mother was gifted it when she was a traveling minstrel. She knew a bit of magic but nowhere near the level Jade would end up learning. A bit of a natural she never really tried to learn proper magic just letting it be made through her music. She is a book learner for other things though. She loves history and wants to write a book about the history of magic on this material plane.

About a year ago she took a job working in a drow house only because they had the largest library on the continent. She wanted access and working for them gave it to her. The problem was she was supposed to be a musician for them. They were her patron, but they started referring to her as a pet after a few months which is a term that they use for slaves that have scales, fur or feathers. So she decided to break out & leave. When she did she found a few of the slaves who also wanted to leave so she took them with her. She got the burn scar on her cheek as well as losing the tip of her tail during the escape. After a few months of travel she eventually joined the party that I have been playing her with.

A few months ago during the campaign she died and due to the fact that she was squashed to death and bits of her were missing a resurrection spell wasn't going to work. So my druid (my icon) did reincarnation and ended up getting players choice on the d100 sheet. So of course tabaxi but I thought "okay if she's going to come back as a taxi but it just doesn't make sense that you would come back the same. Its reincarnation not Resurrection" So she is now a 7-foot white tiger.

She's currently in a relationship with a tavern owner by the name Anton his real name is Bite Marks but for obvious reasons does not go by that in public. Especially in a city with humans elves halflings dragonborn and other races. The tavern is in the city of Dehke and is called The Naive Kitten. Which of course when Jade and the party went there to meet up with her family decided that was the place to stay. Problem is at that point Jade had learned Magnificent Mansion so they only rented one room and there was three party members. Well the stereotype of a bard is obviously being a player. Did not help that are human fighter of the party made a comment about seeing her in bed as he went up to the room. She's told him "I promised he and I aren't a thing. We're only staying in one room because I have this spell let me show you." She dragged Anton up showed him, he was amazed and confused. They spent the night flirting talking and other things. He's sweet and shy and every time she's in town it's the only place she play. After dying they went to the capital of the human empire to reconvene with Jade's mom and brother to discuss the very obvious permanent body changes. When he saw her he assumed that she was a family member of Jades. He knows the adventuring life is terrifying and difficult but he refuses to let her Not talk about it with him. She has to talk about it with him even if it's scary and kind of puts his life in danger because proxy.

For the most part she's retired from adventuring. Just due to the fact she is squishy and is tired of nearly dying especially after truly dying. Also she has loved ones which most of the party doesn't have. So when BBEG start threatening the party, they threatened Jade specifically because she has civilian family members.

I can say this because none of my party are on Tumblr. She recently sold her soul to a devil so she could get rid of a greater rakshasa permanently. (My DM and I did this between sessions next session will be the reveal) We also found out that the house she left sent a retriever- which we previously defeated - but if they had succeeded she was going to be handed over to him. Either to be eaten alive or to be a puppet because Rakshasa love all things art and she is an amazing artist.

That was a lot but I never talk about my OCs. So yeah that is my beautiful baby bard!

If you have any questions please ask them

[fanficimagery]

fandoms598 said: So my request would be"the reader is Harry sister (like a year or two older, because twin would be too much I guess), really close to the Weasleys, she finds herself fall for Charlie, and surprisingly he does too. Though they are not able to admit their feelings especially due to the age difference and distance. During the battle of Hogwarts she fights against Bellatrix but almost die, getting knocked out trying to protect her friends. Charlie then realizes he could not bare to live without telling her how he really feels toward her, so when she wakes up he can't help but kiss her in front of his astonished family (except for Bill 'cause he obviously know his brother), Harry and all her friends"

Gif not mine. If yours and you want credit and/or it removed, please let me know!

Charlie X Reader

Life as the elder sister of Harry Potter hasn't been easy for as long as you can remember. If you weren't attempting to shield Harry from the wrath of the Dursley's, then you were trying to keep your brother alive from whatever new threat popped up inside of Hogwarts.

Of course your best friends, Fred and George, made your life somewhat easier, as had Mr. and Mrs. Weasley who started inviting you over to spend summers with them when Harry started attending Hogwarts as well.

The younger Weasley's, the Potter's and little Miss Granger were thick as thieves and the whole school knew it. You messed with one, you messed with all. And no one dared to cross you or the twins after a rather petty duel between Harry and the little prick Malfoy left Hermione on the wrong side of a curse and very humiliated. Snape's obvious uncaring attitude towards it didn't help at all and as a result.. a majority of the Slytherin's woke up the following weekend to boils in some very embarrassing places.

You had hoped for a normal year entering your Sixth year while Harry entered his Fourth, but the announcement of the Triwizard Tournament dashed any hopes of that. Especially when Harry's name was mysteriously spat out amongst the chosen champions and you had to defend him to a majority of the school and visiting schools. There was no way out of the tournament once your name was entered, so Harry had to buck up and buck up quickly.

Not only was the whole school talking about Harry's attempt to claim eternal glory, but the school was abuzz with activity after Dumbledore decided to tell everyone that there'd be a Yule Ball. The dance was only for Fourth years on up, but should a younger student be asked by an older student then that was fine. It was mandatory for champions to attend, and McGonagall made it known that she wanted all her cubs there as well. Fortunately for you, you were never one to really care for rules.

So while the male student population panicked over who to ask to be their date and the females panicked over whether or not they'd be asked, you packed a knapsack full of food from the kitchens before making your way outside and headed for Hagrid's hut. You could use some time away from the other students and their anxiety.

Knocking on the hut door, you grin as you hear Fang bark and Hagrid shushing the monstrous dog before moving about to answer the door. "Y/N! Is it tea time a'ready?" He greets politely, opening the door wider to let you in.

"Almost, Hagrid. Hope you don't mind I came a little bit earlier. The other students were starting to drive me mad."

"O'course not, Y/N. Come in, come in. Hope you don't min' some comp'ny. Mr. Weasley stopped by for a visit."

Entering the hut, you pet Fang's head as you pass him and wrinkle your nose at the amount of drool the dog produces. Then looking at Mr. Weasley who stands to his feet to greet you, you smile as you reach out a hand to shake his with. "Charlie, I presume?"

"Uh.. yes?"

You chuckle. "Me and my brother are rather close with your family," you say. Taking back your hand, you find a chair and take a seat. "You're the only Weasley we've yet to meet."

"She an’ the twins are attached at the hip, they are. Troublemakers, the three of 'em."

Your smile only widens. "You call it trouble, we call it fun. As long as Dumbledore finds us amusing, we're good."

"Gryffindor?"

"Gryffindor." You nod.

Charlie chuckles. "Ohh, I bet McGonagall just loves you three."

"Of course she does. Someone's gotta watch out for the cubs of our House."

"Downright vicious, she is," Hagrid muses. "No one picks on a cub less they deal with the Lions and their Lioness."

Peeling off your knapsack, you laugh. "Come now, Hagrid. You know I'm no one's Lioness. Stop phrasing it that way. That's how rumors start."

"Speaking o' rumors," the half-giant grins. "I heard somethin'."

"Yeah?" You ask, distractedly. Picking through the sandwiches in your bag, you settle them on the table to share. When you see Charlie staring at you in amusement, you shrug. "What? The elves adore me. They packed a lunch." You gesture for the red head to have his pick and he does. Then turning back to Hagrid, you ask, "So what's this rumor?"

"I heard Viktor Krum was askin' 'bout 'ya. Does this have anythin' to do with the Ball?"

Snorting, you shake your head. "Everyone knows by now not to ask me and everyone knows by now that if you're going to ask one of my girls, you have to go through me first." Charlie raises an eyebrow at you and you grin, shrugging. "I'm very protective of Ginny and Hermione," you tell him. "Hermione caught Krum's attention and he needed my help in approaching her. Apparently she's rather intimidating."

"And my little sister?" He wonders.

"Longbottom has a bit of a crush. It's adorable."

"And what about you?" Charlie asks. "Already have a standing date or just not interested."

"Surely Fred or George," Hagrid cuts in, but you shake your head to deter him.

"I pointed them in Angelina and Katie's direction," you say. "I rather not go. Ball's aren't really my thing."

The three of you settle in, food and tea being passed around. Charlie and Hagrid continue to talk, and you occasionally throw in a few words here and there. Then once you've had your fill, you sit back and wipe your hands free of crumbs.

When there's a lull in their conversation, you finally ask, "So what's a dragonologist doing at Hogwarts?" Charlie's attention immediately snaps to you. "From what I know, your work is very time consuming and you hardly have the time to visit home. But yet you're here. At Hogwarts. Why?" Hagrid knocks over his tea cup, Charlie splutters, and dread suddenly fills you. One of the most dangerous events is being held at your school and suddenly there's a dragonologist on school grounds? It can't be a coincidence. "You know what? I don't want to know. I'm already anxious enough as it is."

Charlie seems to exhale in relief and you chuckle.

"So, Mr. Dragonologist, what's your favorite dragon?"

Charlie looks startled at the question, but when he realizes it's not a dig into what he's doing at Hogwarts he answers with a grin. "Ukrainian Ironbelly. Magnificent breed," he breathes in awe.

"They really are," you agree. "But I'm rather fond of the Antipodean Opaleye. I love the shimmering scales, but I really love the multicolored eyes they have."

Charlie's eyebrows raise in surprise and Hagrid smothers his chuckle as he watches the two of you interact. "You know dragons?"

"Duh. I love all magical creatures, but dragons are my favorite."

Charlie's smile gets more genuine and eager after that, and the two of you, plus Hagrid, have a lengthy discussion about dragons and Charlie's work in Romania.

After the dragons had been whisked away back to Romania, things somewhat settled down. Students, more than ever, were frantic to find a date for the Yule Ball and you enjoyed watching everyone make fools of themselves.

Hermione and Ginny were more than excited to be attending with their dates Viktor and Neville, and you even took the girls down to Hogsmeade to shop for shoes and accessories. You had gotten your fair share of suitors, but decided to let them down gently as you didn't want to attend yourself.

Classes resumed as normal and you split your time between planning pranks with the twins and defending your brother from petty remarks from the other students. It was during the down time between tasks that an owl swooped in one morning, delivering a package beside your breakfast.

Your brother and the Weasley's all became curious when you realized the package wasn't from Molly. In fact, the package had a return address from Romania's Dragon Reserve and Charlie's name was printed in the corner. Without further ado, you had tore into the package and beamed at the various pictures of dragons- all up close and capturing the most breathtaking qualities the various dragons had. The twins had raised their eyebrows to learn their older brother sent them to you, Ron shrugged and continued his conversation with Harry, and Ginny giggled with Hermione as you got lost in the letter attached.

From then on, letters between you and Charlie had become something of the norm.

When the Second Task arrived, you were livid. One moment you were being pulled from the dormitories to speak with Headmaster Dumbledore and the next you were gasping for air as Harry pulled you out of the Black Lake. When all was hastily explained as your brother, Professor McGonagall and the twins tried to warm you up as fast as they could, you blew a gasket and ranted and raved about not having a choice is participating in such a dangerous tournament. Your anger only grew when you saw that Hermione had been put in the same predicament.

For days you were in a foul mood, but then another package arrived from Charlie. This time with the letter, Charlie sent an Antipodean Opaleye dragon scale that had been attached to a leather cord. In the letter he had admitted he saw the newspaper which detailed the events of the Second Task and Miss Potter's blow-up. He teased her a bit and then expressed his displeasure at how the events unfolded. He had hoped the necklace would bring a smile to your face, which it did, and in return you had Colin Creevey take a picture of you wearing the necklace to send back.

Before the Third and final task could take place, each champion's family was permitted entry to the school to spend a few hours with them. Given that Sirius was still a wanted criminal, he couldn't meet up with his godson, but you were greatly surprised when you walked into the Great Hall and Mrs. Weasley, Bill and Charlie were there to see Harry along with you.

"Y/N!" Bill shouts, whooping as he picks you up and twirls you in greeting. "Blimey, kid, you're getting big."

"Same to you, Red," you laugh. Once back on your feet, you tug on the piece of hair that had come loose from his ponytail. "Molly hasn't taken the clippers to your hair yet, I see."

"She tries," he grins back.

Chuckling, you turns towards Molly. "Mrs. Weasley! So good to see you. I'm happy you could step in as Harry's family."

"Your family too, dear," the motherly woman says. She hugs you in greeting and you briefly return the hug before stepping back.

Eyes now on the third Weasley, your smile widens. "Charlie. You didn't tell me you were visiting."

As you hug him, the second oldest Weasley's chest rumbles with suppressed laughter. "Got some time off. Wanted to surprise you."

"Good surprise." As the hug ends, you only manage to turn so you're tucked into Charlie's side as he keeps one arm draped across your shoulders. Then meeting Molly and Bill's amused gazes, your shoulders tense. "What?"

"I didn't know you and Charlie knew one another," Molly muses, she doing her very best to smother her all too pleased expression.

"Yeah," Bill drawls. "When did that happen? And how?"

Charlie groans and with the hand wrapped around the back of his waist, you pinch his side. "We met before the first task," you tell his family. "I usually have a weekend lunch with Hagrid and when I showed up one day Charlie was there. We actually- we kept in touch since then," you say, gulping.

The glint in Molly's eyes is enough to make you nervous, even more so when Bill smirks and waggles his eyebrows. You and Charlie both sigh, but are saved from anything else when the champions walk in. Harry looks so out of place and a bit let down, but when his gaze lands on you and the Weasley's, you laugh and rush to meet your brother halfway.

"So Y/N Potter," Bill chuckles as he stands at his brother's side. "I.. did not see that coming."

Charlie elbows his brother. "It's not like that."

"Isn't it? Don't think I didn't notice that new necklace of hers. The dragon scale."

"She could have gotten it from anywhere."

"But she didn't, did she?" Bill muses. "What a coincidence she gets a dragon scale necklace after making friends with a certain dragonologist."

Charlie groans, one hand reaching up and smoothing down his face. "I'm fucked, mate. She's.. perfect. I don't know," he mumbles. "The age difference is a bit of an issue."

"Well right now it is," Bill huffs. "But next year she'll be of age. I'm sure Y/N won't mind waiting as long as you keep her interested."

"Yeah? And what makes you think she's interested right now?"

Bill chuckles while swinging an arm around his brother's shoulders. "One, she's wearing the necklace you gave her. And out of all the years I've known Y/N, her eyes never lit up like they do when she's talking to you. Trust me, brother, she's interested."

The summer before Seventh Year proved to be stressful. Harry was traumatized over the fact that Voldemort made his return, killing Cedric in the process and making the wizarding world believe Harry to be a liar when he told them of the events of the Third Task. Not only was the magical world falling into chaos, but the Dursley's made it known that as soon as you graduated from your freak school you were to move out of their home.

Then Harry was attacked by dementors in a muggle park which made him cast his patronus. The Ministry tried to expel him from Hogwarts for his actions, but Dumbledore swooped in and helped Harry plead his case. You and Charlie continued to write, and he even offered a place for you in Romania after graduation so you could get your head on straight.

When it seemed Hogwarts would be something of a saving grace, you were let down yet again. The Ministry sent a woman by the name of Dolores Umbridge to keep an eye on Dumbledore and the inner workings of Hogwarts. The woman was a complete terror, always questioning the Professor’s and Headmaster's work ethic. She refused to teach and talk about certain aspects of the curriculum for the Fifth years which led to your brother and Hermione starting a Defense class of their own in secret. Dumbledore's Army flourished and you learned quite a bit until you were all betrayed.

Punishment doled out by Umbridge was illegal, but no one would dare speak of it. Mail was even being intercepted, especially yours given you were a Potter, so letters to Charlie had to stop until further notice. The twins then made plans to drop out and start up a joke shop they'd been dreaming of, and asked you to join them. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't leave Harry behind.

The twins left, Harry had what he thought was a vision of Voldemort torturing Sirius, and you fled Hogwarts with a few others to break into the Department of Mysteries. The vision had been a trap, planted by Voldemort himself, and a battle against seasoned Deatheaters had taken place. Fear and anger had pushed you to flinging curses you hoped to never ever fire, and the Order showed up a second after you had been crucio'd in hopes Harry would hand over the blasted prophecy.

Waking up in the hospital wing at Hogwarts confused you, more so when you followed the hand gripping your own up the arm and towards the face of a slumbering Charlie. You had found out that Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry were also in the hospital wing with battle wounds from what was being dubbed as the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. The only good thing that had come out of the battle was that now no one could deny that Voldemort was back, but even that couldn't bring the relief it should have when you were also told that Sirius was dead.

Once you were given a clean bill of health, you had sit through a lecture from Charlie about looking after yourself much to the amusement of the lingering Weasley's.

Graduation was a solemn event and the Seventh Year students were given the option to take their NEWTS the following year when school had resumed. Summer was spent studying the material needed at the Burrow since the Dursley's had kicked you out, and Harry spiraled into a depression with the loss of his godfather and your absence from the Dursley's. You tried your best to keep in contact with him, but he was shit as replying and then replied one final time when you told him your plans to visit Charlie in Romania after you had taken your NEWTS.

In Romania, it was a completely different atmosphere.

No one in Romania was as weighed down with the events taking place back home, though they were clued in as to what was going on and kept up to date with the events. You shared housing with Charlie, but instead of relaxing as he thought you would you surprised him by observing the inner workings of the Dragon Reserve.

You kept the hut nice and tidy, cooked meals for the both of you and even went out with him to befriend the other dragonologists on the Reserve. The dynamic between you and Charlie started to become a little confusing, but you didn't mind it. You had always found the red head rather attractive and the attraction only grew the more time spent with him. Even the others on the Reserve noticed the friendship blossoming into something more, but labels were never presented and neither of you were brave enough to speak up about it first.

Letters started pouring in from Harry, he and his ramblings about the suspicious-ness of Draco Malfoy. Your brother and Malfoy were always strangely jealous and suspicious of one another, so you didn't give it much thought. Instead, you focused on learning about the dragons while hanging out with Charlie and friends.

Then it happens. 

Deatheaters break into Hogwarts, Bill is attacked by Fenrir Greyback, and Dumbledore is killed.

Wide eyes glance up from the letter in your hands to Charlie whose just barged into your shared living space. He's huffing and puffing, his own eyes wide and he's quick to follow you into your room where you frantically start packing up your clothes.

"I have to- he needs me, Charlie. I have to go.. back." The word home was on the tip of her tongue, but for some reason it didn't feel right. 'Home' was Romania. 'Home’ was the Reserve. It was.. it was Char-

"I know, Y/N. I know. I just-"

"I never should have left him. I should have believed him when he mentioned that Malfoy was a deatheater, but no. I left my head in the clouds and look. Look at what happened!"

"Y/N!" Hands gripping your shoulders, you’re suddenly whirled around until you're facing the stern expression of Charlie and then.. then his lips are on yours. You're frozen, eyes wide, and when his strong hands lose some of their grip to slide up and gently cup your face, you finally close your eyes. The kiss is chaste and over too soon, and then Charlie's pulling back so he can rest his forehead against yours. Eyes still closed, he says, "There's nothing you could have done. You would've been stuck in the Burrow and deatheaters would still have gotten into Hogwarts."

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts. Just.. go." Charlie nudges you back and when your eyes finally open he looks stricken. "Go help my family and yours. I'll mail you whatever you leave behind."

Your hand raises and your fingers gently touch your lips. Brow furrowing, you say, "Charlie-"

But he shakes his head. "Not now, sweetheart. We'll talk about it later. Right now, Harry needs you."

Gulping and then nodding, you grab the pack which holds a few changes of clothes before fleeing the room. And then when you finally found yourself back at the Burrow since Order HQ had been compromised, the seriousness of the War set in and there was no going back.

You were the Order's connection to those in Romania who were willing to start recruiting for the upcoming battle, but after official business was out of the way you and Charlie had much to discuss. And in the end, it was decided on that whatever the two of you were just couldn't work out. Not now. Not with the distance between you and not with a war looming.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had clued you in into what was really going on and you vowed to be by their side should they make a run for it to hunt down some serious pieces of dark magic pertaining to Voldemort in order to destroy it. Harry didn't want you to give up everything, but given that Hermione was the only 'of age' witch in their group to be able to perform magic without the Trace, they couldn't exactly turn away your help.

Bill's wedding to Fleur was a beautiful ceremony, even if you and Harry were under disguise since it was too dangerous for the Potter's to be seen out and about. At least it was beautiful until Kingsley's patronus swooped in to warn you all that the Ministry had fallen and deatheaters were on the way. The reception turned into pure chaos, people were falling left and right, and you somehow fell into Charlie's arms who had come down for the wedding. He kept urging you to find safety, but then Ron collided with the both of you.

"Ron! Where's Harry!?"

"'Mione took him," He shouted, ducking curses as he pulled you from his brother's grasp. "We got to go. Y/N, we need to go!"

Gulping, you cast one last look at Charlie who looked bewildered at the both of you and then down to where Ron was gripping your hand. "Stay safe," you told Charlie. "I'll look after him. I promise." And then with a subtle turn on your heel, you apparated both yourself and Ron to the pre-planned destination where Harry and Hermione were waiting.

Life on the run was.. miserable.

You had to live in a tent with hardly any food or warmth. There was barely any privacy and the longer the hunt went on for horcruxes, the shorter fuses were becoming.

Breaking into the Ministry for one of said horcruxes was an ill-thought out plan which left you barely escaping with your lives. The locket which contained a piece of Voldemort's soul whispered your deepest insecurities to you all as you had to take turns wearing it. Eventually it wore down on all of you and Ron was the first to snap, he leaving all of you in the middle of the Forest in which you were hiding.

Soothing Hermione over the heartbreak she felt over Ron, it was somehow then decided a trip to Godric's Hollow was in order. Still needing a way to destroy the locket, your mood was at an all time low and you just went through the motions of walking and being present. Harry and Hermione were talking in low murmurs, then you were visiting the graves of your parents, and then you were fighting off a giant snake that was trying to kill you.

Apparating back to the Forest, Ron later showed back up and helped Harry destroy the horcrux locket with the sword of Gryffindor which Harry had found in a lake.

"He's worried about you, you know?" Ron had said one night when he saw you fiddling with your dragon scale. "Downright terrified."

Charlie. Oh how you missed him.

And though the locket was gone, tensions were still at an all time high. Voldemort's name had been turned into a taboo and snatchers appeared when Harry said the name in a fit of anger. You ran and ran and ran, but the snatchers were faster.

Being tortured in Malfoy Manor was an experience you would wish upon no one, but you nor Hermione cracked. You almost did, but Hermione's lies were convincing enough to stall Bellatrix.

Dobby appeared, saved the lot of you, and then died a hero's death after depositing you at a safe house.

Hermione somehow managed to heal faster than you, and then your brother and his two friends were leaving to break into Gringott's as Hermione polyjuiced herself as Bellatrix Lestrange. Fleur shoved potion after potion down your throat as Bill hovered nearby, you refusing to have him call Charlie.

Then the patronus came.

The War had begun. At Hogwarts.

Stumbling through a hidden passageway that would lead into Hogwarts, you were relieved to come out in the Room of Requirement. Many familiar faces beamed at you as you entered and then you were wrapped in a bone crushing hug. When Charlie eventually pulled back you could tell he was holding himself back from doing something, but decided to forget it for now. He looked you over and when he decided you were okay, he dragged you over to his family and the rest of the Order.

It was time to fight.

"Harry Potter.. is dead!"

"No. NO!"

Though you were thinking the words, the words were ripped from Ginny's throat as she tried to rush forward, but was held back by her father. You, however, merely crumpled where you stood.

"Charlie, no. No, no, no. He can't be dead. He can't be dead," you cried over and over as a familiar set of arms wrapped around you.

Charlie kneeled behind you, holding you to his chest as he let you cry and quietly shushed you as Voldemort gave some arrogant speech.

But then Harry wasn't as dead as all had believed and the battle resumed.

Rushing back into the school, you and Charlie get separated. But before you can seek him out, a deatheater distracts you and you end up dueling for your life.

Scraped, bruised, and jinxed a numerous amount of times, you limp into the Great Hall. Molly and Ginny are distractedly speaking with Bill so they don't see Bellatrix snickering as she tries to sneak up on them. A blue curse leaves the tip of the mad woman's wand, you scream a shrill, "NO!", and Ginny whirls around in time to shield herself.

Molly looks livid and ready to defend her daughter, but Bellatrix turns towards you and blue meets red as the two of you enter battle with one another. Ginny practically collides with you as she slides up to your side, she entering the battle as well. But Voldemort's most loyal deatheater is more talented than anyone wants to give her credit for, and soon enough you and Ginny are both tiring. You can see the glint in Bellatrix's eye as she realizes this and the second the purple curse leaves the tip of her wand, you wrap yourself around Ginny and take the curse straight to the back. There was no way you or Ginny had the strength to block it and you rather take the hit than let your younger friend take it.

Falling to the ground with a pained scream, Ginny rolls you over with wide eyes as Bill joins her.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," the youngest Weasley chants, tears in her eyes.

"Not my daughters, you bitch!"

"Y/N, stay with us. Keep your eyes open." Bill waves his wand up and down your body, but the pain is too much.

Eventually, the edge of your vision blackens as fire licks through your veins. Your throat is raw from screaming, but then after a mumbled apology from Bill you're blissfully knocked unconscious.

When the battle is finally over and the Light side has prevailed, Charlie limps his way into the Great Hall where the dead and wounded have been laid out. Wiping the blood and sweat from his face, he walks further down the rows of people as he takes in the rather young faces around him. Some of his old Professors and acquaintances nod at him as he passes, and then he spots them- his family. Molly and Arthur are tiredly leaning against one another, Percy is consoling some dark haired witch, Fleur and Ginny are sitting together and leaning into one another as they stare blankly off into space, and George is leaning over a body- a body with bloodied red hair.

Charlie's eyes widen as he notices it's Fred. He gulps. "G-George? Is he-"

George glances up, eyes red rimmed. "He's gonna be fine. Pomfrey fixed him right up and put him to rest."

Charlie exhales, blinking rapidly to dispel any moisture that had sprung up. But then meeting his eldest brother's gaze, and the moisture is back as Bill sadly steps aside and glances down. Charlie then inhales sharply as he finds Y/N laid out, pale as can be. He closes the distances between them and drops to his knees, grabbing Y/N’s hand in his own as his chest constricts painfully.

A hand falls onto his shoulder, squeezing. "She's going to be okay, dear," his mum tells him. "She took a curse for Ginny. She was very brave."

"W-who?" He croaks.

"Bellatrix." At Charlie's strangled sob, Molly shushes him. "It's okay. She's gone. I made sure of it."

Hearing that Bellatrix is dead is a huge relief for Charlie, but his mind is still all jumbled at seeing Y/N so vulnerable. "She has to wake up, mum. She's- I can't.. I think I-"

"Shh. I know."

Charlie's head hangs, his shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs as he grips one of Y/N's hands in both of his. The minutes tick by and when Charlie gets a grip on most of his emotions, he hunches over Y/N. "Wake up," he mumbles. "I need you to wake up for me."

Nothing happens and Charlie presses a kiss to Y/N's forehead, shaking his head. "I'm in love with you. There, are you happy? I said it. Now wake up so we can talk about us again."

"Charlie?"

Glancing up, Charlie is met with the surprised expression of Harry Potter. "Did you just tell my unconscious sister you're in love with her?"

The tips of his ears redden when he also spots the amused expressions of his family. "Yeah?"

"Shit timing, Red," you rasp. Eyelids fluttering open, you brow furrows as the brightness of the room bothers you and you try to adjust to it.

"Y/N!" Several people shout.

But Charlie stares down at you in awe and relief, and before another word can be muttered his lips are crashing down on yours. The kiss is urgent and filled with relief and love, and your chest stutters with a sob you manage to swallow down. One of his hands is still gripping yours while the other comes up to grab a hold the side of your face. Breathless, Charlie ends the chaste kiss but not before pressing a couple of pecks to your lips and then one final one against your forehead, smiling all the while.

When he pulls away, you stare at him with wide eyes. "Charlie?"

"Never again," he says. "You're not allowed to die before we even have a chance."

Smiling slowly, one hand reaches up and you tug on one of the curls that's plastered to his neck with sweat and blood. "Love you too, you git. Now help me up, will you? I want to berate my brother."

Author's Note: This is so choppy! I apologize for that. I tried to edit it as best as I could, but my eyes are tired.

[sweetteaanddragons]

Oh god don't take risk assessments from Fingon, Gil-galad. I'm so glad the family claims him, and I'm curious to hear the author's theory on where this one is from. My dumb theory: since the Elves' Maia heritage is down to Elrond, his sons, and maybe Elured and Elurin, it would be nice if he turned out to be related to the missing twins. My actual theory: no one in particular, the world is built by the ones who show up to work.

It’s not a dumb theory! It’s not, however, what I went with. For that, see below.

Quick note: Maglor’s wife in this is the same as his wife in my alternate character interpretation snippet for her. This will probably make more sense if you read that first.

Maedhros is barely a shadow when he first gets there, but Fingon stubbornly sticks around.

When Maedhros is well enough to listen and, in his opinion, in need of some distraction, he finally asks.

“I’m trying to figure out Gil-Galad’s parentage. I don’t suppose you know?”

Maehros looks startled, which is at least better than horrifically depressed. “He’s not yours?”

Fingon’s heard that from others. A lot of others. He doesn’t know why everyone keeps assuming that.

“Not mine.”

He’ll have to try Maedhros’s brothers later. For now, he’s right where he needs to be. 

“Fingon,” Curufin says from his place on the floor. He hasn’t bothered to open his eyes. Fingon never did learn the trick to that. “What do you want?”

Nice to see his time in Mandos hasn’t changed him. “To talk.”

“About?”

Fingon gives up and gets straight to the point. “Offspring.”

Curufin cracks one eye open and rolls over to face him. His face is shadowed through the bars. “I didn’t think you had any.”

“Yours,” he clarifies. 

That catches Curufin’s attention completely. He rolls to his feet, face tense. “Has something happened to Celebrimbor? The tapestries here are useless.”

Whoever’s in charge of these things apparently decided Curufin would benefit from graphic scenes of Finrod’s imprisonment. Fingon’s been trying not to look at them.

“He’s fine,” he assures him. “Or at least he was fine the last time someone died, there hasn’t been nearly as much of that going around since the war ended. I wanted to ask about the potential for . . . other offspring.”

Curufin looks around the lonely confines his cell with grim amusement. The bars are set deep into the stone. If there’s hinges or a lock, they aren’t visible. “At the moment, I would say the potential was low.”

“Already produced offspring,” Fingon further clarifies.

Curufin frowns. “Why . . . ?” His face goes pale. “Has Nirivel . . . Is there a child she’s saying is mine?”

Judging by his face, if that was the case there’s no chance the child actually would be.

“No, no,” Fingon assures him. “Nothing like that. I’m just trying to figure out who Gil-Galad belongs to.”

Curufin rolls his eyes. It almost distracts from his slowly returning color. “And you couldn’t just say that? In case you’ve forgotten, Fingon, my wife stayed on these shores. Gil-Galad was born in Beleriand.”

That’s not actually technically a denial, so Fingon pushes on cautiously. “Under the circumstance, remarriage - “

Curufin stalks forward until he’s gripping the bars in a white knuckled rage. “I am no oathbreaker,” he hisses.

“The Valar know we all wish you were,” Fingon mutters without thinking.

Curufin steps away from the bars. The rage has disappeared into a blank pleasantness that makes Fingon far more uneasy. “Forgive me. I should not have been so surprised by the question. I shouldn’t have forgotten that you were of the line of Indis and have strange ideas of family fidelity.”

“Of the two of us, which of us actually - “ Fingon cuts himself off. “No. We’re not having this fight again. Or the other fight. Or any fights! I know what I need to know.” He hesitates before he heads back into the maze of winding tunnels. “Maedhros sends his love.” 

Curufin actually looks relieved for a moment before the mask descends again. Fingon’s surprised he saw anything; solitary must have decayed Curufin’s skills at hiding considerably. 

The relief brings to mind what had escaped him before. “You do know about - ?”

“How he died?” Curufin interrupts. He smiles bitterly. “You’re not my very first visitor. Nienna brings news sometimes.” His look turns puzzled. “How are you here? Namo sentenced me to solitary confinement.”

“I petitioned to visit Maedhros,” Fingon explains. “Repeatedly.”

Curufin makes a show of looking around. “Unless I’m very much mistaken, he’s not here.”

“Yes, well, by the time he gave in, he was far too frustrated to be careful with his word choice, and what he actually said was ‘Visit the kinslayer if you want to!’ Which as I view it, really gives me leave to visit just about everyone here.”

For the first time in centuries, he hears Curufin laugh.

He stumbles across Uncle Feanor next.

He’s . . . not entirely sure what he’s seeing at first when he does.

“Are you unravelling Vaire’s tapestry?” he chokes out.

Uncle Feanor leaps to his feet. “Findekano! What an unexpected pleasure. I’d been hoping for a chance to thank you for what you did for Maitimo.”

Fingon can’t tear his eyes away from the loose threads that once made up an entire wall of tapestry. Some of them have been laid out in complex patterns. “It’s Fingon now,” he manages. “And you’re definitely unravelling the tapestry. Why are you unravelling the tapestry? There’s a stone wall behind it, it’s not like it’ll get you out! Is it the scene?”

The scene is . . . Maedhros yielding the crown to Fingon’s father which strikes him as a little petty, but at least it explains why Uncle Feanor’s unravelling it.

Or not, because what Uncle Feanor actually says is, “Oh, no. I needed materials, and this was the best option.”

“Materials? What can you possible do with all that?”

Feanor eyes the mass of thread thoughtfully. “Well, it’s woven through with the essence of time and space, so I’m hoping for a form of transport through either.”

This terrifying image needs only a moment to sear through his brain. “Please don’t invent time travel, Uncle Feanor.” It comes out a little strangled.

“Why not? There’s a good deal that could be improved from what Nienna tells me. Anyway, that can’t be why you’ve come. Do you have news? Have you seen my sons?”

Fingon tears his eyes away from the threads. “Two of them. Curufin and Maedhros. Curufin’s well enough. Maedhros is . . . better.” That’s really the best he can say of that, so he hurries on. “I’ve been trying to discover Gil-Galad’s parentage. Unless he’s Galadriel’s, we’re pretty sure he had to come from your branch.”

“Another grandson!” Feanor sounds both surprised and delighted, which at least answers the question that Fingon had been trying not to think about having to ask - Namely, if Feanor had been responsible. The timeline had made it unlikely at best, but he’s trying to be thorough. 

“I’d probably best delay testing this until you know more,” Feanor muses. “I’d hate to accidentally wipe a grandson out of existence.”

“Yes. Absolutely. Just - Hold off.” Please, please hold off on potentially destroying the very fabric of Arda. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

Just maybe not until he’s figured out how to make sure Feanor’s focused on the geographical aspect of travel.

He has no idea how long it takes him to find Celegorm, but if anyone asks later, he’s going to tell them weeks. That’s certainly what it feels like. The tunnels here are far less open that most of Mandos’s Halls, and he’s starting to feel claustrophobic. 

He can only imagine what it must be like in the cells.

Celegorm manages to get the first word in because Fingon is too busy gaping at the image on his walls. It’s Huan as he dies, in vivid enough detail that it makes Fingon want to cry out, and he barely knew the hound.

“I don’t know where Maedhros is,” Celegorm says. He’s sitting by Huan’s head. It’s possible that he was petting the cloth just before Fingon showed up; Fingon certainly isn’t going to judge him if he was.

“That’s alright,” Fingon tells him. “I do. He sends his love. I also saw your father, who was very eager for news of all of you.” Fingon leaves out the rest of what Feanor is currently very interested in. He’s not sure he can get through it without his terror showing through, and that could very well start a fight. “If I see any more of your brothers, is there a message I should carry along?”

“Tell them that with practice and application, it is actually possible to climb these walls.”

Fingon blinks. “And this will be . . . useful in an escape attempt?”

“It’ll be useful in not going out of our collective minds,” Celegorm snarls. “There’s no room to move in here.”

Fingon eyes the tiny space and remembers his own growing claustrophobia. “I see your point.” There’s really no way to gracefully segue into this next bit, so he just dives right in. “Remember Gil-Galad?”

Celegorm frowns. “Of course I do. Why? Is he dead?”

“No, thankfully.” Fingon watches him carefully for a reaction to this news, but Celegorm just shrugs.

“Good for him. What about him then?”

“Is he yours?”

Celegorm stares at him for a very long time. “You do remember the whole Luthien incident, don’t you?”

“I think everyone does.”

“Thank you,” he says through gritted teeth. “You might remember that part of that incident involved me trying to get married. So unless you’re suggesting that I succeeded, had him with Luthien, and then somehow invented time travel and sent him back - “

Fingon flinches at the words ‘time travel.’ Thankfully, Celegorm’s in full on ranting mode and doesn’t seem to notice.

His ears are still ringing when he finds his next cousin. “Amras!”

The twin looks up in desperate hope, but the light in his eyes fades quickly. “Amrod,” he corrects.

“Right. Sorry.” He should have just gone with Ambarussa.  

At first glance, the walls in Amrod’s cell look fine. It’s just him and Amras eating a meal together, right after a hunting trip judging by the gear on their horses.

Then he realizes that Amrod’s backed himself up against the image of himself so that it looks like he’s sitting beside Amras, and he has to fight back a wince.

“If I find him, I’ll come back and let you know,” he promises. The corridors he hasn’t taken are still mysteries, but he’s keeping good track of the ones he has. The last thing he wants is to get lost here. He’ll be able to find his way back easily enough.

A bit of the life returns to Amrod’s face. “Would you? I just - It’s not that we were never apart. It’s just never been for this long before.” He looks down for a moment. “Have you seen any of the others? Are they alright?”

“About as well as can be expected,” Fingon says which Amrod, fairly, doesn’t seem to find all that reassuring. “Listen, I don’t suppose you ever - “

The answer, it turns out, is no.

“Amras!” he says with considerable confidence.

“Amrod,” the Feanorian corrects.

Fingon’s jaw dropped in horror. “I’ve circled back around? No, I can’t have, I - Wait a minute. Your wall hangings are a bit different. One of you’s lying,” he concludes triumphantly.

Amras - Amrod - whichever one he is has risen in the interim and crossed to the bars. “You’ve seen him? You’ve seen Amrod?”

“I knew you were Amras,” he mutters petulantly. “Yes, I’ve seen him. He misses you desperately and gave me about a hundred messages to give you. I’ll try to remember them in a minute, but first I’ve got a message of my own.”

“Of course,” Amras says and sets his jaw. “Doriath or the Havens?”

Fingon’s actually doing his best not to think about either of those messes. He’s not king anymore, it’s not his responsibility. “Neither. Gil-Galad.”

“What’d we ever do to him?” Amras protests.

“Created him, possibly. That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“Creat- Like with gears? Because that’s really more along Curufin’s line.”

“Like with a woman,” he says in exasperation.

“Oh. No. I thought that would be a bad idea, what with the Doom and all.”

Fingon can’t exactly argue with that. “Maybe Celebrimbor managed to slip away from his father long enough to meet a girl.”

“Anything’s possible. Have you asked Caranthir yet?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Fingon wheedles. They’re not quite to the end of the line yet - there’s still Maglor and maybe Celebrimbor - but they’re getting close. He’d had a good feeling about Caranthir.

“We tried,” Caranthir says. His voice has an edge of anger, but what’s far stronger is the longing, mixed with grief. “Right up until she died.”

. . . That doesn’t actually rule it out. And if he’s any judge of his cousin, Caranthir would very much like to be a father.

Firien goes on his list of people to track down.

“Maybe he’s Maglor’s,” Caranthir suggests.

“Maglor’s not dead, though, so I can’t ask him.”

Caranthir looks at him like he’s being exceptionally stupid. “Have you tried asking his wife?”

Fingon feels exceptionally stupid. 

“Did Aranel actually fight at Alqualonde, or was she just there?”

“She fought.”

“Right. Then she’s got to be around here somewhere.”

By the time he actually manages to track either of the wives down, Celebrimbor’s died. Despite what Curufin seems to think, Fingon retains enough tact to wait until he’s somewhat recovered to ask him if he’s responsible for Gil-Galad.

He’s not, but he is able to relay a series of increasingly improbable and hilarious theories that are apparently floating around the court.

Then in quick succession, he finds Aranel and Firien and Aredhel finds him.

Aranel’s locked in with the kinslayers and is the first person who’s been less than pleased to see Fingon. 

“Come to lecture me on corrupting my husband?”

Fingon has to take nearly a minute to process this. Finally, the best he can come up with is “What?”

She looks up at him. Her face is set in hard lines of preemptive anger. “That’s what Atar said when Namo let him see me. He said my marring must have corrupted the prince. Maybe even his whole family.”

Maglor used to verbally eviscerate people for saying much, much less. Fingon wants no part of that minefield. He raises his hands in surrender. “I’m not here to blame you for your husband.”

Judging by the way her eyes shutter, that probably still wasn’t the right path to take. Some marriages shattered in the long war; apparently their’s did not.

“I just came to ask about any . . . children.”

“Children?” she repeats blankly. “You mean the Peredhel?”

He’s surprised she knows about that until he takes a closer look at the tapestry. He’d thought it was just Sirion burning, but no. It shows Maglor claiming the twins as well. Apparently someone’s given her context.

“I don’t know why everyone keeps thinking that’s the part I should be most upset about,” she says heatedly. “He defied his Oath when he let them go when it was safe. I’m proud of him, not concerned because he was raising children while I was gone!”

“Not those children,” he corrects, because he’s not about to get in the middle of that whole mess. “I meant any children you might have had with him. Together.”

“Why?” she asks with a slow edge of suspicion.

Fingon explains Gil-Galad.

“What happens if you don’t like the answer you get?”

Fingon honestly hasn’t considered this up to now. “What do you mean?”

“What if he is mine? Is he marred in your eyes? What if he’s not, and he’s not Firien’s either? Is he not worthy of the crown? Why does this matter so much to you?”

“Honestly?” Fingon takes a deep breath. “I’m curious. I don’t have any better reasons. I’m just dead and bored and curious.”

She doesn’t believe him. Fingon can’t quite blame her. She’s been judged her whole life for the circumstances thrust upon her at her birth, and that only worsened after true marring was revealed in Melkor; it’s little wonder she fears the same for Gil-Galad if it turns out he’s not quite as perfect as everyone thought. 

“In that case, you can consider it settled. He’s mine. Mine and Maglor’s.”

Fingon . . . isn’t sure if he believes her. “Why send him to Nargothrond? Why keep him a secret?”

“He was stolen,” she says promptly. “We thought he was dead and had no words to share our grief. I have no idea what happened in his early life. I had no idea where he even was until you explained Gil-Galad’s circumstances. That’s not what I named him.” She reels this off matter of factly with no obvious sign of grief.

Fingon is particularly suspicious of the stolen child part of this story given what she’s been staring at for these past few centuries. “What did you name him?” he challenges her.

“Fingon,” she says instantly. “Because Maglor was so grateful for what you’d done for his brother.”

Fingon is . . . almost certain she’s lying. Almost.

On the other hand, it’s the best explanation anyone’s been able to hand him yet.

He’s still mulling it over in his mind when he emerges back into the Halls proper. Firien immediately comes flying into him. Only her tiny height keeps him from toppling. “You found him!”

“Found who - Oh, Caranthir, yes.”

“You found him too? Can you show me where? And what do you know about my baby?”

He’d forgotten how very little like Caranthir Firien is. Also - 

“Your baby?”

According to Firien, she hadn’t realized their efforts had finally succeeded when she volunteered to go with the trading caravan. By the time she realized, it seemed safest just to continue on. All had been well until the return, when they’d been attacked only minutes after she had given birth. She had died shortly after hiding the baby as best she could.

Her telling is somewhat more convincing than Aranel’s. Then again, she also used to be a performer, so . . . 

Fingon hates his life. Death. Whatever.

Naturally, that’s when Aredhel shows up and announces that Gil-Galad is actually hers.

Her grandson, that is.

According to her, Turgon had pressured Maeglin to marry someone to turn his mind away from Idril. He’d given in and married a girl who’d gotten tired of always coming in second place and run off, apparently while pregnant.

Fingon has no idea if any of that’s true and has no way to check it because Aredhel’s the only one who actually knows where to find Maeglin, he doesn’t have a name for the girl, and Turgon’s already gotten early release for good behavior.

Namo’s been hinting strongly about good behavior lately. Fingon, increasingly convinced that he’s the only reason that his Feanorian cousins are still sane and that his uncle hasn’t gone ahead with his plans to possibly erase them all from existence, cheerfully ignores him.

That’s the short list that at long last he’s able to present Gil-Galad with. If Gil-Galad is in fact part of Finwe’s family tree - and judging by his power and a certain resemblance, Fingon is inclined to think he is - than those are his most likely options.

“Firien’s story is remarkably similar to a theory Elrond came up with,” Gil-Galad says wistfully. “He has an uncanny knack for being right about things, you know.” He sighs.

“Cheer up,” Fingon tells him. “Like I said, we can always pester Namo into telling us eventually. Or you might feel something when you meet them! And really it’s only two options since we know Aranel has to be lying since she claimed to actually name you . . . Although Maglor probably wouldn’t mind claiming you, given his track record, so we could always just pretend you were and go with it.”

“No,” Gil-Galad says firmly. “I want to know the truth.”

“Let’s start with the ones we won’t have to sneak you in for then, and then I can introduce you to the rest of the family.” 

Fingon’s money’s on Caranthir.

. . . Which means Feanor will now feel free to resume his experiments.

Oh, well. He hasn’t gotten this far by being cautious. How badly could it possibly go wrong?

Fingon shuts that thought down quickly and drags Gil-Galad through the Halls to Firien, who takes one look at Gil-Galad and throws herself at him, wrapping him in the tightest hug she can manage, even though her head barely comes up to his chin.

She’s crying. Gil-Galad, who’s holding her like she something fragile, looks like he might start.

Fingon feels a bit like crying too.

[bisexualryder]

Okay dude i’ll bite, can i know more about your trio wardens au ? Like how did they meet ? Who did they romance ? What happens to them after dao ? In da2 ? Dai ? (Sorry im just a huge fan of ocs and i love the wardens)

Ahhh, first off - thank you for asking! I’m happy to gush about my trio of idiots wardens :D Secondly - don’t apologize for asking! I love talking about my OCs, I’m just bad about keeping up with posting and such lately (but hope to fix that soon, especially if I make this extra sideblog). ANYWHO, gonna jump in and apologize now if this gets long, lol.

—

SO I’ll hit romance first since that’s quicker and easier. Rylee and Ise (eventually) become a thing - they’re married by the time DAI rolls around. Typical grumpy asshole falls in love with ray of sunshine and doesn’t want to admit it at first. She tries to play it cool and ends up playing it too cool until she gets some help from the couple companions she befriends (mostly Zev, since Sten doesn’t care that much, but he offers his insight on what qunari do). But they don’t actually, like, really become a romance-y thing until after ghoul!Tamlen shows up and oof that one is painful.

Eleri I… don’t know yet, to be honest. She was a re-imagining of my old Cousland, who romanced Alistair, but with Eleri I’m actually leaning a bit more toward Zevran. But uh, still not sure yet, I’m mad indecisive on this one. tbh even Nate is in the running for her *shrug emoji*

On to the rest!

DA:O

They don’t all join the standard way, I guess, but they do all meet at Ostagar. Ducan officially recruits Rylee and Isethari, Eleri recruits herself, lol.

Rylee is recruited first. Standard Tabris origin there and it’s on the way to Ostagar that they plan to stop and see the Dalish elves and that’s when they find Isethari half-dead in the middle of the woods (it was sheer luck, really). Duncan sends Rylee, carrying the nearly-dead Ise, to the camp and goes to investigate the area. Other than Rylee wandering around the Dalish camp like an awestruck idiot, most of the Mahariel origin is the same. Rylee stays behind in the camp, though, when Ise and co. are sent back to the ruin where they run into Duncan. Once they leave, Rylee earns herself the duty of ensuring that Isethari doesn’t run on their trip to Ostagar, bc let me tell you Ise is not happy about leaving without finding Tamlen.

Now for Eleri, she escapes the castle with only her mabari after her parents sacrifice themselves to buy her time to get out. She manages to make it to the stables for her horse and rides as hard as she can to Ostagar, desperate to find her brother. When she basically gets told that he’s out scouting and she likely won’t see him before the battle, she asks about the wardens and is pointed toward Duncan. At that point, she goes up to him like: “I just slaughtered my way through an army of men trying to assassinate my family. I have nothing left but this dream, please.” He asks clarification, she provides, he eventually agrees and sends her off to gather the other recruits and report back with Alistair. It’s at that point she meets Rylee and Isethari, who are hanging around close together by the quartermaster (after Rylee nearly kills Daveth for hitting on that one woman, you know the one). 

From there up until the start of the fight, it progresses as it normally would in canon. They all get their quest, go out into the wilds, etc. etc. And once they survive the Joining, they have a pre-meeting meeting thing. Alistair and Eleri join the meeting as per canon, and Duncan assigns Rylee and Ise to the remaining warden forces. So from there, canon-typical for Eleri. Go to the tower, light the beacon, get almost killed and then saved by Flemeth, etc.

Rylee and Ise, however, have a much more trying experience. Rylee takes a genlock to the face (claws? blade? idk lmao) for Ise to protect her - this being around the time they can see the battle is going south. Duncan’s already been killed at this point and Ise starts to panic (she hates fighting as it is) and manages to half convince, half drag Rylee from the fighting and they flee the battle to the nearest town (naturally, Lothering). They end up meeting up with Eleri and Alistair (and Morrigan) again and explain what happened from their perspective and then work with Eleri and Alistair to come up with a plan of action.

Eleri takes up the role of warden-commander (since Alistair and Ise don’t want to lead and everyone knows Rylee leading is a Very Bad Idea™).

Uhhh, key highlights of what they do I guess would be:

Sided with the Mages

Irving saved, Uldred dead etc etc

Put Bhelen in power

Branka’s killed

sent Dagna off to study ofc

Sided with the Dalish against the werewolves

two elves with one being Dalish and the other violently racist made it a simple choice for Eleri to lessen a headache later (she had way too much else to worry about than argue with them)

Helped Redcliffe and saved Conner

demon killed w/Jowan’s help (he does the ritual and Morrigan is sent in to yeet the demon out)

Isolde’s alive

side note: didn’t poison the Urn

Anora rules w/ Alistair

Loghain alive & recruited as a warden (recruited post-final fight)

Alistair still performs the ritual with Morrigan

Awakening

Not too much of note here. Rylee is the one that finds Nathaniel, though, and it does not go well for him. It’s only Ise that stays Rylee’s hand from killing him. When they bring him to Eleri, she immediately recruits him when she realizes it’s her old friend. He’s still pretty ticked, but softens about the whole thing a bit when he realizes Eleri is around.

With more wardens, they’re able to more easily protect the Keep and Amaranthine. And the Architect does live (much to Rylee’s great annoyance).

DA2 & DAI

Sometime in here is when Rylee and Ise get married. They have two ceremonies - one in the Denerim alienage to honor Rylee’s culture and then again when they find Ise’s clan outside Kirkwall.

Hawke and co. do run into Ise and Rylee in the Deep Roads during the expedition (as they are canon with Ashley Hawke, there’s not a twin to save). BUT the two of them help Ash and crew gtfo and back safely to Kirkwall. Turns out they saw Bodahn on their way into the Deep Roads to investigate and got a tip to keep an eye out for some lost members of the expedition (the whole leaving suddenly without them thing didn’t sit right with him).

Later on, in that mission where you run into Nate? Eleri’s with him, though doesn’t actually advertise herself as the warden-commander while chatting with Ash. Ash isn’t dumb, though, (not always, at least) and gets a feeling Eleri might be kinda more in charge than she was told. So when wardens start disappearing, she takes a chance and makes contact. It ultimately pays off when Eleri sends Rylee and Ise to help the Inquisition.

During the events of Here Lies the Abyss in Inquisition, it’s Rylee that stays behind to buy everyone time to escape. And, much like when Ise was taken from her clan, she has to be dragged out - this time by the Inquisitor herself (Olivia, for the record) - kicking, screaming, and utterly sobbing that they’re leaving her wife behind.

BUT because fuck canon, Rylee survives and kinda wanders around the raw Fade until she finds another open rift. This ends up dumping her into the ass end of Orlais somewhere and it takes her a while to make her way back to Skyhold, but dammit! She and Ise do get a happy ending. It does take a while though, it really does. And for that duration, Ise doesn’t leave Skyhold for anything after they get her back there. Resigned, more than anything, she usually perches on an empty wall away from the hustle and bustle of the main areas near the stables. She also doesn’t eat much, only what small bits that Cole brings her.

As for Eleri, she - along with Nate, Velanna, and Sigrun - are searching for the cure. And I really haven’t thought much beyond that.

MAN this got long, I hope you don’t mind! I had a lot of fun thinking about this and gushing a bit about my girls and what they do :D So thank you, again, for asking! One day, I think I plan to write something detailing their journey from start to finish in DAO and maybe beyond, but it’d probably be a series of drabbles? I struggle with long fics and flowing from one chapter to the next, but maybe.

[seigephoenix]

DA OC Questions

Garrett Hawke, Alissa Hawke (formerly Trevelyan) and Serena Tabris.  My Champion, Inquisitor, and Warden.

1. What would your Warden generally think of your Hawke and your inquisitor?

Hawke faced some situations that had no right answer.  I have no opinion either way about what he did.  He's manned up and lived with the consequences of that decision, so how can I say anything bad?  Could he have done things better?  Probably.  Hell, I could have too.  Live with the consequences is my motto.

As for the Inquisitor, poor girl.  She got tossed into a situation that she clearly didn't want.  Did the best she could and kept Thedas from destroying itself.  Was surprised to find out she was married to Hawke.  It certainly explained some of her decisions.  I may or may not make a trip to help her with the Dread Wolf problem.

2. What would your Hawke generally think of your warden and your Inquisitor?

Well, the woman saved an entire country.  My home country.  The fact she could kick my ass is kinda hot.  In all seriousness?  Tabris commands respect not by her words but by her deeds.  I hope she finds what she needs.  She deserves it.

As for the Inquisitor, well…  I married her.  That should answer the question right?  Right?

3. What would your Inquisitor generally think of your warden and your Hawke?

I have nothing but respect for the Warden.  She rose up from nothing and saved a country.  She helped prevent a civil war and united the country behind her to defeat an Archdemon.  I do hope she finds whatever it is she's seeking.

Well, I did marry the man.  While I may not have agreed with all his decisions, he doesn't run from the consequences of them.  He holds the weight on his shoulders a little too much sometimes.

4. What would they think about each other’s love interests (if they romanced someone of course)

Hawke - What do I think of Zevran?  Scary guy but anyone could see how he feels about the Warden.

Trevelyan - From the little bit of communicating I've done with him, he is a respectable man.  Yes, I know he's a Crow.  He could've backstabbed the Inquisition at any moment but he did not.  That counts for a lot in my book.

Tabris - I believe they are well suited to one another.  Zevran told me about them and the letter from Trevelyan was personal.  Contacting me personally instead of having a secretary do it, it counts.  I hope they and their twins find happiness.

5. Is your inquisitor jealous that both the warden and Hawke have a mabari hound?

Hawke - I used to have a Mabari.  Baron likes Alissa more than me.

Trevelyan - He's not jealous about that at all.

Tabris - *keeps the laughter in check*

6. What would they think of each other’s combat skills/techniques?

Trevelyan - I'm told no one is more deadly with their blades than the Warden.  I'm inclined to believe them.  I mean, she learned from a master assassin.  Garrett has always been a terror on the battlefield with his sword.

Hawke - I have little doubt to the Warden's prowess in battle.  I have no inclination to see it in person thanks.  Alissa was one of the most impressive archers I've had the pleasure of knowing, but don't think her losing her arm has stopped her.  She's merely bugged Cassandra into teaching her how to use a sword and shield now.

Tabris - Zevran's told me how strong Hawke is in battle.  Leliana informed me that Trevelyan hasn't let her injury keep her off the battlefield.  That kind of mettle isn't something to be faked.  Perhaps I might send her a sword as a gift one of these days.

7. Are all your protagonists the same combat class? And what specializations did they take?

Trevelyan - I was a rogue specializing in archery.  I prefer the Artificer subclass.  Though without my left arm, *grumbles about wolves*, I have to shift over.  I'm learning how to use a shield and a sword now.

Hawke - I prefer two handed swords.  Reaver is my specialty.

Tabris - Rogue as well.  I prefer blades and Assassin was what fit with me.  Leliana tried to teach me the way of being a Bard…  It didn't end well.

8.What would your inquisitor and warden think of what happened in Kirkwall? Would they have supported Hawke’s decisions?

Trevelyan - I was there.  Sadly, I don't think Garrett had any other choice.  The City forced a mantle of responsibility on him that he never wanted.  He did the best he could, given what he had.  I supported him in whatever decisions he made.

Tabris - I've had my back to the wall.  It's hard to weigh consequences there.  While I may have made a few choices differently, overall Hawke did what he could.

9. Would your warden or Hawke have actually accepted the role of inquisitor if Cassandra had located them as she’d planned to? Would they have been a good leader for the Inquisition?

Trevelyan - when he stops laughing Garrett will get back to you.

Tabris - No.  I've done my part in saving the world and I've had my own mission.  Though given what we know now?  I may just have to make a comeback and give them a hand.  Dread Wolf indeed.  I'm not the type to be a figurehead much as people have tried.

10. Do your protagonists share the same opinions on the Chantry?

All - I like the way Leliana runs it.

11. Do your protagonists share the same opinions on mages rights?

Trevelyan - I see both sides of the argument having lived through the mage and templar war.  While blood magic and corruption do exist in the Circles, I don't see it so black and white.  Mages do not deserve to be condemned because of ‘maybes’.  Maybe they'll become an abomination, maybe they'll practice blood magic.  I do believe they should govern themselves in conjunction with the Chantry.  A partnership instead of one ruling over the other.

Hawke - You've been around Dorian too long.

Trevelyan - You can just shush Mr I Helped My Mage Friend Blow Up The Kirkwall Chantry.

Hawke - Fair point.

Tabris - I saw the horrors of blood magic but surprisingly I agree with Trevelyan there.  Condemning mages, children, to a lifetime of subjugation based on maybes is ridiculous.  There needs to be a balance but I don't possess the temperament nor inclination to figure it out.

12. Do your protagonists share the same opinions on blood magic?

All - Yes.

13. Do your protagonists share the same opinions on The Game?

Trevelyan - I know how to play it, I am abysmal at it.  I dislike the dancing around whatever point you are trying to make.

Hawke - She once told a Compte to go fuck himself.  I thought it was clever.  *shrugs* As for me?  I can't play it and have no desire too.

Tabris - I am impressed.  But no, I dislike the Game.  Say what you mean to say or get out of my face.

14. If they’d been in each other’s places would they have made the same or different choices? And who would they have romanced, if anyone?

Trevelyan - Ah…  No.  I'll stick to my own timeline thanks.

Hawke - What she said.

Tabris - Quite frankly I agree.  It's difficult to say if I'd have made the same choices they did.  Or if they'd have made the same in my boots.  We are far too different to know how we'd react.  So, I'll stick to my own.

15. Would your protagonists have the same character alignment?  

All - Yep.

16. Would your protagonists have the same Hogwarts house?

Trevelyan - Ravenclaw.

Tabris - Slytherin

Hawke - Hufflepuff (though he hates it)

17. If Origins and Inquisition had the 3 personalities (Diplomatic, Sarcastic, Aggressive) which would your warden and inquisitor have predominately been? And what one did your Hawke have?

Tabris - Aggressive

Trevelyan - Sarcastic

Hawke - Combination Diplomatic and Sarcastic

18. What is the biggest similarity between your protagonists?

They are all driven by family and found family.

19. What is the biggest difference between your protagonists?

Their backgrounds.

20. Who handles responsibility the best? And who handles it the worst?

Tabris handles responsibility the best.  She just takes care of it and moves on.

Trevelyan the worst.  

Hawke - She actually tried to run away when she first came to Haven.

21. Do they share any of the same hobbies?

No.  They all have different hobbies.

Hawke - Can sew.

Trevelyan - is a painter

Tabris - is excellent at wood carving

22. Would you ever ship any of them together?

Well…  *waves at Hawke and Trevelyan* Those two definitely.  Not Tabris with any of them though.

Tabris - Thank you.

23. How old were each of your protagonists at the start of their respective games? Do you think their age affected the choices they made?  Looking back would they have done any major action differently?

Tabris - roughly 23 at the start of Origins

Hawke - 24 at the beginning of DA2

Alissa - 31 at the start of Inquisition

24. How do each of your protagonists handle loss?

Tabris - tends to close off from everyone but Zevran.  He is the only one allowed to see her upset.

Hawke - Bottles it up.  He's gotten better at it but has his moments.

Trevelyan - she lashes out.  Verbally, not physically.  So she tends to isolate herself so she doesn't accidentally hurt someone's feelings because she's upset.

25. What is/was their relationship with their family like?

Tabris - she was close to her family until the Joining.  Though she still keeps in touch with Shiani, things have changed and it's a cordial relationship.  But no longer close.

Hawke - he's still close to Bethany.  And is wrapped around his childrens’ fingers.

Trevelyan - is only close to her middle brother and twin sister.  The rest of the family disowned her for having children out of wedlock.

26. Do any of your protagonists marry and/or have children?

Hawke and Trevelyan marry and have twins.  A boy and a girl.

Tabris doesn't marry Zevran but they remain together for the rest of their lives.  No children because of the taint but they're okay with that.  They wind up adopting a couple of orphaned city elves later on down the line.

27. What would their fears on the graves in the fade during Here Lies The Abyss be?

Trevelyan - losing her children

Hawke - loss of family

Tabris - the void

28. What is their favourite location within their own game and what would be their favourite in each others?

Trevelyan - I loved the Emerald Graves.  Except the giants and red lyrium mines.  If I was in Ferelden it would likely be the Brecilian Forest.  I do like the outdoors.

Hawke - The Hanged Man for me.  I enjoyed Skyhold while I was there.

Tabris - Denerim.  Denerim was home.  I've heard great things about the Hanged Man though.

29. How do they each feel about the Deep Roads?

All - We don't want to talk about it.

Trevelyan - I'd rather go through the Hinterlands again.

30. Out of your Warden, Hawke, and Inquisitor, who is your favorite?

I can't decide.  I love them all.  Tabris was my first DA character.  Alissa Trevelyan was the one I developed the most.  And Hawke is Hawke.