#anyway! fuck the trevelyans

[elegeaic]

my two trevelyans are obviously very different but rooted in similar interpretations. the trevelyans are a repressive, controlling, deeply religious family that keeps all of their children on a tight leash in different ways.

alexandra is a golden, beloved child with all the burdens that entails: she's far enough down in the line of succession that she won't inherit her father's title and holdings, and most of her older siblings have already risen up the ranks of the templar order and the chantry that she isn't pressured to join either order. it takes her a while to realize that she is being controlled by her parents, she sides with the mages (mostly because hey, this business with alexius is shady and we can't leave it unchecked) and for the first time is made to feel her parents' disappointment and she begins to distance herself from them

nicolette is a mage and, while her family took advantage of this fact to have someone of influence in the ostwick circle, she has been made to feel like she needs to atone for this fact her entire life. like its her fault and she needs to do everything her parents bid her or she'll never be forgiven for it. she's well aware of their manipulation, but thinks if she bows to it she'll earn their love. she sides with the templars because of it and... firmly regrets that for the rest of her life. she only begins to really grow a spine once they reach skyhold, making it hard for her family to contact her and therefore control her and she has to make decisions on her own.

[ffc1cb]

some parslies from my sketchbook and then some. and then some dill

[invinciblerodent]

yeah, i don't think I'll ever be fully over Dorian and my Inquisitor as a couple

like i may be something of a serial blorboshipper, I know that, but they just... they're just it for me, you know

they got everything

the raw sexual tension between tank and support. the coy wordplay bleeding into overt, if playful flirtation. the friendship as natural as breathing as they march side by side into love inevitable. the attack dog devotion. the fearless leader falling to his knees in worship of his beloved. the deep understanding unlike any they've had with anyone before.

the humor. the kink. the angst. the both of them feeling ever so vaguely unworthy of the other, and marveling at not just each other, but the very fact that they are allowed to have this.

i just. head in my hands, clawing my face off, etc, the sickness has claimed me again and it is not letting me go

is this the Blight? it's got to be the Blight

[pentacass]

after two harrowing hours in the cc i loaded into minrathous and uhh....*checks notes* went to bed

[headless-horsepossum]

My favorite thing about Solas is how much of his dialogue is the same whether you are romancing him or just have high approval. Like my Inquisitor is a Human Man and I got the fade scene with Solas the second we got to skyhold and the ONLY difference was that Solas didn't Literally Kiss Him. Like he still said 'and right then... I felt the whole world change' in the same tone he says it to a female lavellan. Which is to say. Not a tone you use to your dude friend/boss who you are Normal about.

I love it so much. Ik there are plenty of ways to read it but I choose to interpret him as a closeted bisexual because I think that is the funniest possible thing for an ancient God of rebellion to be

[scalpelsister]

Inquisitor Leontine Trevelyan (& Dorian Pavus)

[antiqua-lugar]

there has been a bunch of posts recently about the inquisitor being erased by the narrative and a bunch of posts about how this means that the inquisitor can never come back from "being the inquisitor" and I agree

BUT

like it's not going to happen because in the end this is bioware's sandbox and if they decide that the inquisitor is gonna be in veilguard then the inquisitor is going to show up in veilguard even if you think your inquisitor would let the world burn and good riddance

BUT

one could make the argument that because the inquisitor is a symbol, because the inquisitor is so much larger than life, because the inquisitor as an individual doesn't fucking matter, they can leave, because no one knows who they actually are. like it's not without risks but if lavellan paces out and goes back to their clan (or any clan) is anyone going to find them? do people even know what lavellan looks like? did anyone in this chantry-led, shamlen-run institution even bother to pay attention to their vasillin? when cadash or adaar was the herald of andraste in haven all bull had to do was throw some shitty clothes on them as camouflage. when you get to the winter palace, people are surprised about who the inquisitor actually is.

once you disband the inquisition and peace out, how many people can actually pick out cadash out of a line-up when so much about the inquistion has been about erasing everything about them except some vague "idk some dwarf. i think he's a ginger"? like when josephine interviews you she's not doing it to get the story straight, she's doing it to know what to hide, what to emphasize, how to rebuild your whole identity to someone who is not you anymore.

[partystoragechest]

A story of romance, drama, and politics which neither Trevelyan nor Cullen wish to be in.

Canon divergent fic in which Josephine solves the matter of post-Wicked Hearts attention by inviting four noblewomen to compete for Cullen's affections. In this chapter, Trevelyan panics.

(Masterpost. Beginning. Previous entry. Next entry. Words: 2,751. Rating: all audiences.)

Chapter 2: Girls On Tour

Living in the house of Bann and Lady Trevelyan, receiving daily news of the next noble you were to be married off to, Trevelyan had quite mastered the skill of having a quiet panic attack whilst not spilling a drop of tea from her cup.

She even had a perfect smile plastered on her face, nodding politely as the other Ladies—Baroness Touledy and Lady Erridge—discussed and chatted and generally talked. Yet she remained silent.

Too occupied, was she, with her in-depth contemplation of the rug. This parlour Lady Montilyet had brought them to had such an excellent rug. So close to the fire, and not a single singe on it. Perhaps it would be swiftly replaced if so! Lady Montilyet certainly seemed efficient!

And this sofa, how comfortable. Trevelyan couldn’t quite find the right way to sit on it, but that was more due to the panic than any fault of the furniture. No, the furniture was trying its very, utmost best to make her feel comfortable.

Impossible task. A Templar? Really? Her mother really didn’t think that information would be at all pertinent?

Trevelyan lifted the cup to her lips. She did not drink.

Former, right? That’s what Lady Erridge had said. Not any more. And didn’t like the title, the Templar one. That was hope, surely.

No wonder the Baroness had called her a ‘curious choice’. Trevelyan herself was certainly curious about how the choice had been made. Lady Montilyet was efficient; there was no way she didn’t know. So, if she knew, then she must know something that Trevelyan didn’t know that would make it perfectly fine for her to be here. Yes. This was going to be… yes.

“Lady Trevelyan?” the Baroness said, the clink of her cup being returned to its saucer snapping Trevelyan back to the present. “Are you quite well?”

Lady Erridge leant closer. “You do look somewhat pale.”

“I am perfectly fine,” Trevelyan lied, “thank you. I was just contemplating… how old this room is. It looks… quite old.”

The other Ladies’ eyebrows creased momentarily, but the rules of society took over, and so they simply nodded through it.

“Lady Montilyet did tell me that Skyhold was ancient,” Lady Erridge said. “Though many different peoples have lived here, so it’s been difficult for them to parse the history. The bricks here could be Fereldan, or Orlesian, or even Elven!”

The Baroness smiled. “As they are still standing, I would not be opposed to calling them Orlesian.”

Trevelyan let out a little laugh that carried a tad too much of her nervousness with it. Though it seemed to pass Lady Erridge by, there was a quirk in the Baroness’ eyebrow.

She was fortunate, then, that there came a knock at the door.

Lady Erridge gasped, and set about tidying her already-tidy ringlets into perfect place. The Baroness made no such movement, and continued to sip at her tea. “Come in,” she called.

The door opened, and Lady Erridge’s straightened posture fell almost immediately. Lady Montilyet entered, and faced them all.

“Ladies, may I introduce the final of our cohort, Lady Giles Samient of Samient, daughter of Duke—”

They were apparently not the only ones who had heard that name enough, as Lady Samient of Samient, daughter of exactly whom you would expect, strode into the room.

Like her father, her skin was a soft-hued shade of brown, warm in its undertones. This was complimented by a bun of reddish-brown hair, which she pulled away, to fall in tresses around her face. Though her cheeks were rounded, they were not as disarming as Lady Erridge’s were. Sharp eyes and downturned lips gave her a natural look of seriousness. Yet, her gaze was not stinging enough to afford her any kind of ferocity. It was almost… clouded.

But it focused when she saw them. Samient stopped, and did something between a curtsy and a bow. The realisation of this mistake seemed to hit her immediately, but any shame faded away with the same speed, and she continued to her seat.

She had no skirts to shove aside; her outfit was practical and convenient. Black trousers, fitted well. A shirt, loose and comfortable. Neither matched the mud-stain on her boots, and so suggested an overcoat had been shed. And perhaps that she had ridden here on horseback?

Needless to say, her arrival fascinated them all.

“Lady Samient,” the Baroness led, “how wonderful to see you again. You look well.”

The Lady Samient stared down the Baroness for a moment, before her expression calmed once more. “Oh, Baroness Touledy. Val Misrenne?” Her Orlesian accent was not quite as pronounced as the Baroness’.

“That is home, yes.”

Lady Samient replied in a flurry of Orlesian, bewildering both Trevelyan and Lady Erridge beside her. However, it seemed to land, as the Baroness tipped her head back and laughed.

“I quite agree.”

This appeared to settle the Lady Samient greatly, as she shifted more comfortably into her seat. It only served to remind Trevelyan how comfortable she wasn’t.

“It is wonderful to see you are already enjoying one another’s company,” said Lady Montilyet, taking centre-stage of her diplomatic theatre. “This is, of course, Lady Trevelyan and Lady Erridge.”

Courteous nods were exchanged between them.

“Please, allow me to thank you all for coming to Skyhold,” she went on. “I know we are far from most established settlements, but I promise you, you shall not be able to tell. We have everything to suit your needs throughout your stay, and I hope you will come to think of Skyhold as a second home. Anyway, without further ado, there is the reason for your being here—”

“Oh!” Lady Erridge clapped, her curls bobbing with her. She attempted to exchange a grin with Lady Trevelyan, who, for personal reasons, could manage only a grimace.

“—which is, of course, the Commander,” Lady Montilyet continued. “He is quite busy today, but tomorrow, we shall be hosting a gala, at which you shall have a proper introduction. After that, I will schedule time for each of you to spend with him—so that we might accommodate his plentiful duties. I understand this situation is somewhat unconventional, but I do appreciate all of your willingness to participate.”

“Of course, Lady Montilyet,” said the Baroness, with a masterful smile. “We are quite fortunate in this arrangement, so a little patience and effort is to be expected. But the scenery is not so hard, and to see the workings of the Inquisition on its rise to power—a privilege indeed.”

Lady Erridge gasped. “Oh, the Inquisitor! Will we meet���?”

“I am afraid the Inquisitor has recently departed for the Western Approach,” Lady Montilyet explained. “A meeting would have been guaranteed otherwise—perhaps on return. Though I fear the trip will be of some duration; there is much to be done.”

“Oh, naturally. Though I am certainly disappointed. I do so love adventure stories.”

“I believe there will be plenty when the Inquisitor returns. I must ask for more of your patience, your Ladyship.”

Lady Samient stood; the conversation ended. “Are we to walk somewhere?” she asked, despite having just arrived from what was likely a long and taxing journey.

Ever the professional, Lady Montilyet donned a dutiful smile, and curtsied. “Of course. Ladies, if you would follow me, I shall give you a tour of the grounds, so that you might accustom yourselves with the keep. By the time we have finished, your rooms will no doubt be ready for your stay.”

Satisfied, Samient fell in line, as Montilyet opened the door. The Baroness and Lady Erridge followed, the latter with her usual little happy applause, presumably to congratulate herself on living such a pleasant and thrilling life.

Trevelyan, meanwhile, willed her ever-so-slightly shaking legs to work properly. Two feet on the floor, press down, move up. That’s it, that’s all. She followed the instructions to the letter—and she was stood. One foot, in front of the other. Walking.

Into the main hall of Skyhold they went. The place was chantry-like, with its high ceiling, stained glass tableaus, and lollygagging inhabitants doing very little of anything. The throne was a new concept, at least—though Trevelyan had known some Revered Mothers who certainly would’ve liked one.

None of it served to make her any more comfortable. If anything, it was a reminder. Had she a sovereign for every time her parents sent her to board at a Chantry establishment with Templars prowling about, she’d have two sovereigns. Not much, but enough to pay carriage fare away from here.

“Shall we visit the garden first?” suggested Lady Montilyet. Trevelyan gave no objection, and Lady Erridge certainly didn’t, applauding the very idea. A bit pre-emptively, perhaps.

Or not.

Venturing beyond the hall, the little garden that greeted them was, simply put, idyllic. It was bordered by ivy-covered arcades, criss-crossed by stepping-stone paths, and overgrown with shrubs and flowers of such beautiful variety. Though her Orlesian counterparts, well-used to the ostentatiousness of chateau grounds, seemed unmoved, Trevelyan was enchanted. Far prettier a garden than that of a Circle; far wilder in nature than that of her parents’.

Lady Montilyet gave her tour, shepherding them round the arcade. Trevelyan paid attention to very little of her speech, other than that the well was quite old, and the gazebo was nice, on an evening.

Her eyes fled to the garden view instead—and yet, on this occasion, found it obstructed. Lady Samient walked beside her, and with a subtle glance towards her, asked, “Lady Trevelyan?”

“Yes. Of Ostwick.”

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard of your family, though you are the first I’ve met.”

“Oh. I hear we’re usually quite prolific, and everyone ends up encountering one of us, on some occasion.”

“And today, that is you.”

“I suppose it is. Very astute of you, your Ladyship. I hope I can do my family proud in giving you a good impression of our name.” Trevelyan put on a smile, the best she had mustered yet.

“Were you a mage?”

The bluntness of the question would have surprised Trevelyan, had Lady Samient’s speech not already been so unusually direct.

Still, she stumbled over her answer: “I… am yet a mage, your Ladyship.”

Samient seemed entirely unfazed. “Yes, yes. And what sort of magic did you do, at the Circle? Healing, fireballs, shapeshifting?”

“Oh, certainly not the latter—that’s the purview of hedge mages. I was more clerical, in my duties.” Trevelyan had prepared herself for this line of questioning, at least. “I did my primals, of course, but I largely spent my days working as an assistant, in the storehouses. Before everything fell apart, I had started teaching some of the apprentices. Glyphs and wards, simple spells, that sort of thing.”

Samient’s head tipped. “Do you miss it?”

“I miss... having something to do.”

“I can understand that. I suppose a Commander’s wife would have plenty to do.”

A lithe chuckle escaped Trevelyan’s lips. To herself, she muttered: “Knowing Templars… hardly.”

As they stepped from the arcade into the garden proper, a gasp from Lady Erridge brought the conversation to an end.

“How wonderful!” she sang, hurrying toward an eclectic collection of pots and beds containing varying species of plant life. “What is this?”

“The Inquisitor’s herb garden,” Lady Montilyet proudly informed her. “While travelling, the Inquisitor has collected seeds of almost every variety of apothecary herb native to southern Thedas, and brings them here, to plant. It is helpful to have our own supply.”

“Oh, certainly!”

“Indeed. Though the garden has yet more discoveries to offer. Come, let us wander. ”

True to her word, Lady Montilyet meandered away, with Lady Erridge at her heels. So too did Lady Samient drift off, and Trevelyan was left to examine the foliage herself. It was a fine collection, to be sure. One that endentured a small kind of jealousy in Trevelyan, for her own lack of garden space.

“What is this one called?”

Trevelyan looked up, to find Baroness Touledy poring over the plants as well. Her eyes caught the one the Baroness gestured to—a spiky, brown, twiggy-looking thing—and she said:

“Felandaris.”

“Ah.”

Her answer provided, the Baroness straightened, cane at the ready. But she did not move. Nor did she talk. She simply kept staring at Trevelyan.

And so Trevelyan joined her, knowing well enough that the question had been nothing more than an excuse, and this, now, was an invitation to the true conversation. She was proven right within an instant—for as soon as the Baroness had her in lockstep, she asked:

“What do you know of Templars, Lady Trevelyan?”

Trevelyan took a considered breath. She knew more than was polite to say, certainly. “Why do you ask?”

“Our mutual interest is a former Templar, and so I wish to be prepared for the sort of man he may be because of that.”

“Well,” Trevelyan began, not quite knowing where she was going, “they are…”

Her mind searched for the appropriate language. Preferably, she would give her description without swearing. A difficult task.

In light of this preoccupation, the Baroness guided their movement through the garden. She left a fair amount of distance between them and the forward party, and all by absolute purpose.

“Do not reserve yourself before me, Lady Trevelyan,” she said.

Trevelyan hesitated, but permission had been granted: “They are… strict. Uptight. Rigid in both posture and thinking.”

The latter comment elicited a smile from the Baroness. “Indeed?”

“Indeed.”

The Baroness nodded, and, making sure her voice was especially quiet, murmured: “You did not know the Commander was a Templar prior to your arrival, did you?”

Trevelyan near-froze, but keeping up appearances was always the imperative—as much as one could manage it. “I, ah…”

“I noted your surprise at Lady Erridge’s exclamation earlier. I wonder, do you know much of the Commander? Besides his potential rigidity, of course.”

“I have never met him, so there is little I can truly say I know of him.”

Though the answer was intentionally vague, Baroness Touledy’s expression exhibited a sense of definite understanding. Affirming the Ladies Erridge and Samient were quite occupied with whatever architectural quirk their guide was introducing them to, she began:

“Commander Cullen Rutherford, as I understand, was born in the village of Honnleath in south Ferelden. He became a Templar in his adolesence—later than they usually have them, so he must have shown some determination. He served at Kinloch, then Kirkwall—and saw rebellions at both during his time there.”

Trevelyan had heard of them.

“But,” the Baroness continued, “as was found at Halamshiral, he prefers not to speak of them.”

Trevelyan could imagine why.

“He much prefers to speak of his work with the Inquisition; I am told he regaled some of the Duke’s soldiers with quite the tale of the Inquisition’s stand at Haven—you know the events I am referring to?”

“Oh, yes. I know of them.”

“That is all the information I have of him, however.”

“I see.” Trevelyan looked to the Baroness, quite grateful. “Thank you, your Ladyship.”

“Well, it seems rather counter-intuitive of your parents to have sent you here to win a man’s heart with no knowledge of him,” she noted. “Though I am sure the Bann and Lady Trevelyan had only your best interests in mind..?”

Trevelyan felt her stare, and hid any reaction. It was bait she knew not to take. Baroness Touledy seemed perfectly kind, but she was yet the Lady of Val Misrenne, and a player of The Great Game by extension. Cards were better kept close to one’s chest. For now.

Lady Montilyet provided an escape: “Shall we tour elsewhere?” she announced. “We have an extensive library, which you are welcome to.”

Lady Erridge’s clapping heralded her agreement, and the other Ladies joined her in following Montilyet’s new path.

But as they returned for the oppressive internals of the keep, Trevelyan took one, last, lingering look over the garden, over the hold, and over the valley. It was beautiful. It was never-ending. It was—

Someone was staring back.

Her eyes snagged on a figure atop the battlements. They were dressed to be noticed, what with the large red furry cape slung over their shoulders, and polished armour beneath. But they did not seem to wish to be. For, when Trevelyan met their gaze, their head turned, and they hurried on their way.

Whoever they were, the disinterest was mutual.

[gaychocolatehomicide]

tell me about your messy inky i’m curious 👀 (if you want, idk if you haven’t talked about your ocs out of shyness or if it’s a Decision™️ but if it’s the former. I Am Giving You Permission)

HI OKAY SO sorry about the wait I had a really busy week (or three) at work but I wasn't ignoring you I prommy

So I have a ton of Inquisitors but specifically the one I was thinking of is Tristan Trevelyan, my terrible terrible boy from the Wrong Answers Only playthrough. The general concept for that worldstate is "what if I just make the objectively wrongest choice in every instance" and I will almost certainly never actually play it (can't bring myself to do some of the choices x.x) but it's a delightful thought experiment, particularly in the "what kind of person would you have to be to act like that in this situation" department. Just to give you an idea: the Warden in that run DOESN'T rescue the dog from Ostagar. It's that bad.

So Tristan! A nobleborn artificer rogue (really he should be a Champion if we were allowed to cross-class spec, but of the rogue options artificer makes the most sense. He's a tricksy bastard and besides, tempest is too messy and assassin is a little too denial-of-the-self-y.), Tristan is at the conclave because his mage cousin was going with the delegation from Ostwick and he wanted to travel. He learned most of his rogue skills sneaking out of the family home to go get into trouble in town, and he is primarily concerned with his own personal comfort and advancement. Mostly, at least before the conclave, he's content to wait. His father is a pretty powerful noble and he's the oldest son so as long as he doesn't do anything TOO heinous, he'll inherit and then he can do whatever he wants. He's twenty six and unmarried, though he's been kinda lazily courting one of the daughters of a noble out of Starkhaven. He's starting to think his father is taking too long to die/retire and should maybe hurry up, and maybe he needs some help... But only if there's no way for it to trace back to Tristan, obviously.

Then he gets caught up in the explosion and survives, and suddenly everyone's calling him the Herald of Andraste, and he really doesn't need his father's estate if he's in charge of the greatest military force on the continent, now does he? Basically the Inquisition offers him power beyond his wildest dreams and he 100% leans into that shit. He is the gaslight gatekeep girlboss king, and he makes every choice directly dependent on growing the Inquisition's power and thus, his own. He goes "yes actually I WAS sent by the Maker in your time of greatest need, I'm here to rescue you from everything. All you have to do is exactly what I say~"

The issue with him is that he's way too smart for his own good, so he always pushes just far enough to get what he wants and no farther. He's incredibly deft at keeping himself out of trouble by not being held accountable for the shit he absolutely did. Did the envy demon at Therinfall get him? No, he's just like that, actually the demon was a little freaked out by his ambition and ruthlessness. Also, he's unfairly attractive. Appearance-wise I like to think of him as one of those ethereally beautiful people that can sometimes happen when one parent is Chinese and the other one is from like central Africa? I'm thinking specifically of a guy I knew in college who could literally knock me out by smiling in my direction. Anyways.

He's a hanging judge except for when the person in question could maybe help him, in which case he takes their stuff and/or throws them in prison. He loves the skyhold prison, it's huge. The only people in that whole place he gets along with are Varric (zero morals but very loyal, exactly Tristan's kind of guy), Leliana (further hardened), Cassandra (cop), and Vivienne (pro-establishment free marcher who sees a lot of herself in Tristan). Solas and Sera both hate his guts, Iron Bull doesn't trust him as far as he can see him (not as far as he can throw him because he could probably yeet Tristan quite a ways, and his suspicions turn out to be confirmed uhhhh rip the Chargers), and Blackwall clocks him as the type of guy that Ranier used to be (but turned up to 11) in about 30 seconds flat. Cole really doesn't understand him at all, and after a few botched attempts to get in his head (Tristan reacts REALLY badly to that kind of thing after the demon at Therinfall, and Cole was there for that so really all the sweet baby is doing is giving Tristan flashbacks while he tries to help) he just decides to drift around helping other people. Dorian... Ok he definitely sleeps with Dorian but he also says homophobic slurs. Which is not ideal for anyone. Bull tries to kinda protect Dorian from that nonsense at the beginning but after the Chargers, well... It's not good. Josephine is briefly delighted by having someone else competent at crowd control, then she gets to know him and treats him much like people treat the Du Launcets in DA2. Cullen isn't really in a place to have much of an opinion, Tristan is way too much like a smoother version of the worst commanders Cullen has had in the past for him to do a lot other than paperwork and panic attack.

So I feel like @the-chantry-sucks-ass's boy Aeryn would meet Tristan one time and be like "ah yes this is a Prophet of God" and Tristan would clock that in an instant, and especially since Aeryn's best skill seems to be killing the shit out of whatever happens to be in front of him. Tristan would take one look at an incredibly dedicated, very capable, very stabby man and go "perfect, mine now." (And from what I understand Aeryn would be pretty into that...)

Images of the terrible boy are forthcoming, I need to make him in the CC and get some screenshots. For posterity.

[oopsallmabari]

oh man id love to hear more about Jim!! how is he involved in da3??? what’s the history with arya… 👀

oooooh tysm for the question! tbh i'm still trying to figure quite a bit of this out lol

to start with the easier question first, his history with arya. jim is one of the older cousins-a yearish older than eric (eldest of the main trevelyans), so there's a 13 year age gap between jim and arya! there's not any particular animosity between the two of them but they didn't get as close as they could have as kids because of the age difference AND because jim and her brothers did NOT get along. arya had a lot of loyalty to eric as a wee child, so as time went on she stopped actively seeking jim out to play/hang out (mainly because eric would pull her away a la 'you don't need to hang out with that unruly unkempt thing we call a family member'). and jim wasn't interested enough to press it since she doesn't exactly like her family. they definitely had a quiet alliance at larger events, though--malik and eric thrived in large social gatherings where arya and jim didn't, so jim tried to make them more enjoyable for her.

jim is in her early twenties when she hears about arya getting taken to the circle--at that point jim is still in the noble life but is chafing at it a lot, so he's one of the most sympathetic to her when the rest of the trevelyans try to erase her presence in the family entirely. he's not unsympathetic to mages, but it's moreso that he hates the strictures that the chantry imposes on life (especially since jim's supposed to be committed to chantry service but is fighting it tooth and nail). she sends a very brief letter, once, to the effect of 'hang in there, kid', and shortly after leaves the trevelyans behind and takes to the seas.

as for how he fits in to DA3: i doooont know for sure yet, and part of that is because i can't decide what worldstate he's in! i think he could get more involved in my cadash or my adaar's inquisition (since they're a little less rules and honor-bound). also, if i make jim a significant part of arya's dai story i will have to write her into my longfic which has enough family complications lmaooo.

i think i'll go with this: in arya's worldstate jim hears that his little cousin is the herald of andraste, says 'huh good for her' and stays far away from the inquisition itself. happens to be in the storm coast looking for easy work post her crew's mutiny while trying to stay the fuck away from the blades of hessarian, encounters arya a couple times and there's a nice little 'glad to see things are better for both of us, kind of' moment, and arya says he's welcome to a room in skyhold if ever he needs a place to lie low. he does briefly encounter cassandra and send her into a confused gay panic but nothing else happens.

in rhea or ikenna's worldstate i think that jim becomes a semi-companion. he's still fucking around in the storm coast to start but is more inclined to ingratiate himself to inquisitors that are so clearly opposed to the chantry's ideals and ideology (arya's not a fan of the chantry and ya she's a mage but she's more andrastian that not. not the case for rhea or ikenna). jim, with no crew, no money, and no prospects says 'hey i'm really fucking good at killing things and am not particularly liquid at the moment, you should hire me' and rhea/ikenna are like 'hell yeah cmon'. cue every single interaction between cassandra and jim being deeply homoerotically charged and kind of antagonistic (jim and cass respect each other as warriors and hot ppl but cass is horrified by jim's general audacity and jim LOVES to fuck with the uptight devout hand of the divine). they are both meant for each other and also the absolute worst for each other <3

[modestempers]

While he used it to his advantage, Nicolette's father always made her feel as though her being a mage was something she needed to be forgiven for constantly, and the only way that she could achieve that was by doing his bidding. Doing things she didn't really want to do, like pursue a political role in the Circle in the goal of one day becoming First Enchanter, if not Grand Enchanter.

[gyrovagi]

so truthfully i'm pretty sure The Scenario as i have been referring to it originated in my brain as 'okay how contrived would a situation have to be for caden trevelyan and solas to have gay sex about it.' and then it got derailed as i thought about it and the scenario does not involve anything approaching gay sex. it's literally just a weird situation that nobody enjoys that changes nothing. (shrek they dont even have dental voice) caden doesn't even convince solas to cut off his leg

i've mulled it over too much though and i'm fully writing a fic (Which has made my recent google searches look fucking crazy) so now it's a canon incident for caden and is i think... if not exactly a turning point for his relationship with solas, it's Defining. if that makes sense.

anyway what happens is at some ambiguous mid-late-game stage, maybe even right after exiling the wardens, caden makes it his next priority while corypheus is firmly on the backfoot to clear out the red templars in emprise du lion. (i know judging by levels the game wants you to go here lies the abyss -> wicked eyes and wicked hearts but caden would prioritize the politics.)

this is going great! up until right after capturing suledin keep, he fucking collapses in the middle of the stairs. turns out he's been walking around on a pretty nasty leg wound that's been infected by red lyrium. there's inquisition troops in the area and a healer among them but solas is undeniably the best healer on hand (and the only mage). so now he's in the position of - for the second time - keeping this guy alive when he can really only guess about the thing killing him. the new developments are 1) cassandra isn't threatening him with execution if caden dies, though the power vacuum if the inquisitor perished now would definitely not be pretty 2) solas and caden have barely restored what can charitably be called a 'semi-functioning working relationship' after caden punched him in the face.

(varric and cole are here also. cassandra's back at skyhold dealing with the Rammys of seeker secrets and potential divine candidacy.)

after some tense aggressively polite conversations about power and vulnerability, several cryptic comments from cole, and one episode of house md, solas finally figures out that caden quit lyrium cold turkey and hadn't told anyone except his advisors, cassandra, and the apothecary who was trying to work out something to help with his + cullen's withdrawal. it follows that lyrium withdrawal has weakened him and caused the red lyrium infection to progress as dramatically as it has. solas concludes that there are essentially two options: try to cut the infection out, which being kind of out in the middle of nowhere with limited supplies means a very real risk of losing the whole leg if not dying anyway, or (temporarily) go back on lyrium, in the hopes that with untainted lyrium back in caden's system, it will be able to counteract the effects of the red lyrium. solas has conducted a few experiments that seem to indicate this would work.

caden, being the stubborn asshole he is, goes. cut my leg off then. i'm not going back on lyrium. and solas is like in any other situation i would respect your decision, if not your reckless methodology, but this has gone past obstinance into sheer stupidity. this is no mundane ailment. red lyrium is dangerous and you are extremely vulnerable at the moment. what i am suggesting is temporary and you can wean off safely this time. if you do not do it you will die. caden replies not if you cut my leg off :) i'll do it if you don't have the stomach for it. and solas storms out of the room and angrily requests varric talk some sense into trevelyan as a friend since apparently the boy (Caden is 25.) has lost his fucking mind

varric of course is not very happy about the idea of amputation either but caden cannot be budged and there's not a lot of time to wait around for him to change his mind. solas briefly seriously debates the ethics of putting lyrium in the wine. and the pasta. ultimately he decides that this isn't justifiable, even if he doesn't care that caden would never forgive him for it, he wouldn't be able to live with it himself. what he can live with is calling caden's bluff.

so solas brings in Ye Olde Thedosian Amputation Instruments and tells caden, if you insist this is your decision, very well. but i refuse to do it. you said you'd do it yourself, so you can, and i'll make sure you don't bleed to death. caden of course meant it when he said it but that's still a whole different beast from actually Cutting Off Your Own Leg. of course he can't do it.

caden fumes silently for several minutes. solas ends up watching him limp out to retrieve his lyrium kit (which caden's kept in his things, of course, because it doesn't count if it's not an active choice he makes every day). his hands shake preparing the dose but he snaps at solas when offered help. when he finally downs it he asks simply to be left alone. there's not much we have to say to each other, i think.

within a week or so, his condition's much improved. owain shows up because he received word that a) his brother was in bad shape b) there's dragons need hunting. bull came with for dragon hunting and maybe also so he could give a direct report to the qun on whatever the hell the red lyrium situation is out here. (sidenote because i've been thinking it and i need to shoehorn it in somewhere i'm not saying owain and bull fuck but i'm not saying they wouldn't fuck.) caden decides it's probably best to minimize mage exposure to red lyrium so he suggests solas head back to skyhold and help figure out the next move against corypheus. he goes on a kind of awkward brotherly dragon hunting expedition with owain.

the whole incident is never discussed again ❤️ caden is pretty pissed remembering the whole thing when solas DOES give him an impromptu amputation. oh so if you're arguably at fault for my limb requiring amputation then you have no qualms cutting it off.

(i'm undecided between caden having successfully quit lyrium by trespasser, or if it's too evil to be like. actually once the red lyrium infection set in to that point it could never be fully cured just held back by going back on lyrium, so actually caden's options are still either take lyrium or cut your leg off or die. need to ponder the shrimplications for his character and their relationship and the themes and narratives of it all.)

well i guess the inaugural post (apart from my personal friend bluebeard's wife) gets to be this whiteboy sketch that i drew and then stared at like. this is too much. i dont know how exactly but in some way its too much

[johaerys-writes]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. (If you feel like it, no pressure.) Spread the self-love ❤️

Thank you so much for this ask!! I answered an ask about my favourite fics I've written a little while ago, so I thought I'd do this one for my currently updating fics (the ones I'm currently working on tend to be my favourites anyway haha):

As Fate Would Have It: canon-divergent omegaverse with (stronk AF but reluctant) therapon alpha Patroclus and sweet sheltered fish prince omega Achilles. They argue a lot, they fuck a lot, they argue while they fuck LMAO. Plus supportive fish mom Thetis!!

baby born blue: after not having spoken to each other for a year, Achilles invites himself to one of Patroclus' work trips and makes it everyone's problem 🤣 Modern AU, forced proximity, toxic exes to (even more toxic) lovers. They are both a riot in this one 🫶

Nameless: cowboy patrochilles hell yeah!!!! 🤠 Wealthy ranch owner's son Achilles meets gorgeous and enigmatic ranch hand Patroclus, and a strong friendship and attraction develops between them.

High-Flying Birds: all the scenes we didn’t get to see in The Song of Achilles! Extra scenes, Achilles POV, expansion of canon events, lots of fluff and smut with a generous helping of AngstTM. One of my fave works I've written.

A World With You: the only non-patrochilles work in this list, but I couldn't not include it since it's my longest work yet (and the longest Dorian Pavus/Trevelyan work in the AO3 tag LOL). Novelisation of DAI centered around my Inquisitor Tristan Trevelyan and his relationship with Dorian, lots of action, intrigue and character development as well as my own spin on canon events.

[girlb0yfriend]

well anyway. canon worldstate romances i think

dao - zevran and morrigan (shoutout to mods) (also my warden Was mid-leliana romance but that got. cut short. hahah.)

da2 - isabela (was gonna use mods and romance anders as well because i want to see his romance butttt i just don’t think his romance works for this hawke. think i was trying to force it and i should just make a new hawke to try out the andersmance)

dai - josephine

datv - very tentatively saying emmrich. could still go bellara but. i think it’s emmrich.

also if ur curious. warrior tabris. tentatively going warrior hawke as well (mightttt switch to mage i dunno…… i like carver and hawke’s dynamic a Little more but i think bethany fits into this hawke’s arc a little better. and i do love her. we shall see….). mage trevelyan. andddd warrior ingellvar. shoutout to dragon age warriors i <3 the warrior class forever.

also while we’re here i Am still thinking about the consequences of my tabris and steve existing in the same worldstate Specifically from a leliana angle…… lyrium ghost leliana is sooo fun since assuming i stick with in hushed whispers (since i do plan at Some point to try champions of the just….. i’ve heard good things….). Anyway . yeah leliana sacrificing herself in the future during in hushed whispers was like a defining character moment for steve and leliana is someone he looks up to a lot. and probably the person he’s closest to besides josephine and sera. so that with the lyrium ghost angle is. something to think about!

god tangential side note thinking about steve and sera makes me ILL like that’s his best friend…………..

actually. that makes me think. who are my protags best friends…… my tabris ummm. doesn’t have all that many options. she’s dating two of them, two of them are either gone/dead…… leaving oghren sten alistair and shale i believe. think it’s a toss-up between alistair and sten…… alistair and her got along really well at first but they hit a rough patch…… iirc my girl fucked up and had no option but to kill connor. really awesome. they Do end up moving past that but it’s like. it’s a moment. STEN though…… i mean they have a fight too and it’s really poorly timed (rightttt in the middle of that awful stretch of time where things keep getting worse. actually the reason sten was in the party on the way to the sacred ashes in the first place to trigger that fight was because my tabris and alistair had just fought about the connor thing. so alistair was swapped out for sten who was swapped out for leliana after their fight, even though it was settled. just to give sten time to cool off and also because my tabris could Not deal with anyone else challenging her judgement right then. Lol. Lmao even . Does she know…….). ANYWAY yeah there Is actually a lot of respect between sten and my tabris (please ignore that i keep calling her that i can’t acknowledge that i named her after sylvain fire emblem. i can’t do that right now .)

ANYWAY. my hawke’s best friend is probably sebastian….. once again want to see how sebastian’s arc actually plays out but. Yeah i think it’s sebastian. andddd my rook. um. probably bellara if i don’t end up romancing her? or maybeeee neve? once i picked up emmrich he kind of took over her spot in the party, and i’ve mostly been using bellara or occasionally taash in the second slot……. i don’t knowww.

also thinking about how my protags would get along (something i have surprisingly not thought about before)…. picturing my tabris and steve interacting is really really funny to me because my tabris is just like. she’s unpleasant 😍 and really creepy she drank a lot of different cups of blood and now she’s creepy. meanwhile steve is like. pleasant and agreeable for the most part and he doesn’t really know what’s going on ever and his hobbies include jumping on the bed. Do think he’d be pissed about the leliana thing. he Would be pissed about that.

gonna have to finish the game and see where my rook ends up before deciding where he factors into things…. and honestly i should do a replay of da2 as well to solidify my hawke’s characterization as well……. still haven’t played all the way through with sebastian as a party member.

ANYWAY. this has just been me rambling about my worldstate i think. got off topic. wellll…. enjoy 😁!

[runningwolf62]

Oh hey, hey Wolf. Remember how the other day you suggested an AU where Ena is the Inquisitor/has the Anchor, and Esti and Brennan are just there along for the ride? One must consider the inciting incident of this, that Esti and Ena split up to better nose around and get information, Esti meets Brennan, and then the two of them go down to Haven to be nosy there.

And then the Conclave explodes. There is talk of one single survivor. All Esti knows is that Ena was up there in the Temple when it blew up. She's dealing with the most profound grief of her life and the only shoulder she has to cry on is that of a human she met four hours ago. And all Ena knows is that she doesn't know where Esti was, maybe she could have gone down to Haven, but more likely she's just - gone. "What do you mean," she asks Cassandra, "that everyone is dead?"

Ena stops the Breach from expanding further, everyone's talking about the Herald of Andraste, but the stories are probably so jumbled that it would take days for Esti to realize that the Conclave's sole survivor is her sister.

This AU concept simply speedruns the angst. Starting right off with it.

Brennan would actually be looking to join the Inquisition, I've realized, because this is the furthest he's ever been from his family, and this will give him something far away from them, money, etc. Like it's a mess rn but if they're taking recruits, he's got experience with horses, he'll be a messenger or stablehand or anything. Like, I think that's something in the back of his mind.

So he's sneaking around to see if they're hiring and also because he's the Trevelyan shame and he wants to be left alone and runs into Esti, who is also sneaking around, and once initial shock wears off, he'd probably offer that she could stick with him because people will assume she's supposed to be there if she's with a human, like, why else would she be walking around openly talking to one? And exploring is more fun with friends, right? And really, he doesn't believe in the Maker anyway, so it might be a bit fun to make fun of everyone.

Brennan is in the middle of a dumb joke, he's been telling them for the past hour to his new friend, (Esti, she'd said, and she likes that he enjoys taking the piss out of everything) and he's making the kinda jokes that are only funny when you're mocking the church that runs everything but you both think is kinda a load of crap.

When the sky explodes. Brennan, when he was in the templars, read a lot to escape. He ended up loving the stars and everything they knew about the night sky because he could always see it and there was so much that was incredible about it.

No book had every described the event happening above them now. The sky is split open, and Brennan has seen wounds. Reminds him of a gash, of split open knuckles, of fights he'd had in training and shallow wounds, of how something supposed to be whole pulls apart.

"What the fuck." He breathes, as he and Esti pick themselves off the ground, immediately having to grab her, "where the fuck are you going, stay here!"

"My- my sister, she was here too, she was up there-"

"Stay here." Brennan drags her back, away from everything, "are you out of you- okay. Fair enough. You're scared, I get it. Esti!" She looks at him, rather than past him like she's gonna bolt for it, "listen to me. I know how things... not like this, but they're gonna look for someone to blame. The last thing you wanna do is be the Dalish they find up there."

Esti blinks and nods jerkily, and Brennan sighs heavily. He didn't want to go back before this anyway. Esti's been the nicest person he's spoken to in the past month.

"And I'll stay with you until we find her, okay?" He offers a hand, "we stick together, deal?"

"Deal, shem."

"Please, Shem is my father's name, call me Brennan." He thinks Esti snorts at that because it's one of the stupidest things anyone's ever said, but as everyone is scrambling about around them in a panic, he's succeeded in one small thing. Keeping either of them from panicking.

He takes a deep breath, "now, what's your sister look like? You came down here, maybe she did too. We'll start where all the Chantry people aren't."

[fangsandfeels]

Oct 21 - Introduce your Inquisitor

Sybil Trevelyan

Rogue/Tempest

As the youngest child of a noble family, Sybil was expected to become an investment in the Trevelyan's reputation: as a member of a Templar order, a cleric in the Chantry, or a wife of one of the high-ranking aristocrats, preferably in Nevarra or Antiva.

Sybil chose to be a disappointment.

A non-closeted non-believer, she rebelled against all attempts of her parents to turn her into investment. From escaping cloisters and sabotaging her supposed "templar training" by partying in taverns or commissioning smutty illustrations for traumatizing Chantry boys and girls, to breaking her nose - and several other peoples' noses - on the day of her arranged wedding (failed arranged wedding!) with some Antivan noble she had never met before, Sybil became quite a walking scandal in her family's circles, with relatives speaking her name through gritted teeth.

In her attempts to disconnect herself from the pious family image, Sybil got a facial tattoo to compliment her stylishly crooked nose and kept cutting her hair in a way that would give local Chantry nuns multiple heart attacks.

At some point, it became more convenient to ignore her existence than to try and bring her to heel. And while initially Sybil acted out just to make her parents acknowledge her, being admitted as an almost-lost-cause and left alone was, probably, the best development she could get.

Why was Sybil even sent to the Conclave to represent her House? Desperation and blackmail. Her oh-so-great-and-proper older brother was hard at work killing fighting at the frontlines of the mage rebellion, so he couldn't attend - and somebody had to stay in Osterwick to "build connections" and act all important about it. So, Bann and Lady Trevelyan decided it should be the perfect opportunity for their youngest daughter to do something useful - especially if she doesn't want the members of the expedition she planned to join to be detained in Osterwick for an undetermined amount of time. All she had to do is to be there and behave.

Being present is all that matters, they said. She owed them at least that, they said.

(Sybil's inner voice: "I say I say FUCK")

Hates, hates, hates being called the Herald of Andraste or even associated with Andraste or the Maker and LETS EVERYONE KNOW, much to Cassandra's chagrin. Wanted nothing to do with the Inquisition, packed her stuff in secret for her sudden escape - didn't really work out because Cassandra was watching her like a hawk.

Didn't really know what to do with her life before the accident - accompanying a group incognito as a blade for hire was her plan and she hoped to build from there. Despite that, is highly curious and a quick learner. Also, Sybil secretly longs for a place to belong. She knows where she doesn't want to belong, certainly, but she would try to surround herself with interesting people if she can help it.

Refuses to take her duty seriously - because what kind of an idiot puts in charge someone whose credentials are a freaky glowing hand and surviving a disaster with a dash of memory loss? And she is the irresponsible one? - so her made decisions based on vibes. She chose to speak with Fiona first because she had never really talked to the Circle mages before and was curious to meet them. Templars? These Maker's little toy soldiers are boring, they can wait.

Gets more invested in the task as threat grows, but still doesn't want to be associated with Andraste or called Herald. Abhors the idea of people fighting and dying in her name - don't they really have better things to fight for?

Ended up inspiring Leliana to become the next Divine, mostly through reverse psychology ("Eh, the Chantry sucked anyway, good riddance" - "No, I can fix it!").