#arrys lavellan

[delicatefade]

Ropes of Fate

OC Kiss Week Day 7: dare

Fandom: Dragon Age, though it really doesn't matter for this snippet. Word Count: 2,299 😬 I got inspired. Main Tags: Childhood crush, kids being kids Summary: My name is Lex, I'm eleven, and in Clan Lavellan. So this one time Arris (who is dumb) wanted everyone to play ropes of fate cause Arris wanted to kiss girls. Pfft. I went anyway cause I was bored. This is what happened. It was pretty crazy.

I moved this one to AO3 -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/53891704 Excerpt

My heart was pounding in my ears. It’s not that I was afraid of girls or kissing girls. It’s just that Eilan had that power. Who knew what else she could do. I walked into the aravel and closed the door behind me. She looked me right in the eyes and fixed me again with that power. I couldn���t say or do anything. But then she did something I had never seen her do before. She looked down all bashful like, how some girls do, and she blushed and had a little smile. Did she like me? That’s what that meant when other girls did it, but Eilan never seemed to like anyone. I felt dumb again. Stick to the plan. Get it over with. I told my feet to move, but they would not listen. Eilan’s smile got bigger like she knew. Of course she did, she was super smart and could read anyone’s mind. But she was smiling a whole lot, at me, and I let myself smile back. I felt goofy, just looking at her, smiling like that. I still felt light headed, but now I could breathe again and my heart was calming down from a thump-thumping to a whisper-whoosh.  “LET’S GOOOO!” Arris shouted from outside the aravel. “We haven’t got all night!”

Story on AO3 -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/53891704

Eilan is my OC and Lex belongs to @bluewren

Want to follow their story? Start here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52434187/chapters/132646609 DAFF tag list: @warpedlegacywrites | @rakshadow | @rosella-writes | @effelants | @bluewren | @breninarthur | @ar-lath-ma-cully | @dreadfutures | @ir0n-angel | @inquisimer | @crackinglamb | @theluckywizard | @nirikeehan | @oxygenforthewicked | @exalted-dawn-drabbles | @melisusthewee | @blarrghe | @agentkatie | @leggywillow | @about2dance

[dracoangel]

So I know I said I was going to play as Aiden in my next play through. But I realized that I want to do my world state with a F!Lavellan romancing Solas, I'm curious to see how that goes at the end. So Aiden after Inquisitor Arry world state. I can now un-blacklist Veilguard

[inkywarden]

shes cute

[screenviolense-a]

offers winter palace anais and arri

[indiebitez]

My computer is out for the moment (and getting slow, besides) so I’m not sure if I’ll get around to developing this further, but I thought I’d share here anyway. Apologies for the less than stellar phone photo lol.

I imagine this was a quiet moment between the end of Inquisition and Dorian leaving for Tevinter. I always thought if Arris proposed it would be pretty casual. :’) Big thanks to Project Elvhen over at AO3 for providing us with a working elvhen language!

[slayersangel]

Commission of Arry Lavellan for @dracoangelz. Thank you for commissioning me again <333

[thevikingwoman]

Been seeing these mashups going around and kept meaning to send you some! How about "fake dating" + "time travel"?

Thank you so much, I loved these tropes and I had to write something out. It took on a life on its own, and I’m sorry it took so long. 

A strange object sends Solas and Iwyn Lavellan back in time, right into a situation neither can control.

next chapter || read this ao3

Iwyn Lavellan x Solas | Post-Crestwood | romancerating: teen, time travel, fake dating, awkwardness, arlathan

Temporal Arrangements, chapter 1

Solas is up front, his back silent and broad. Iwyn halfway regrets her decision to bring him, but the notion is childish. He is the best choice for this mission. They need to investigate an overlooked item in Dirthamen’s temple. A scout had found it, sketched it, and said they didn’t want to touch it because it ‘glowed angrily’. A wise choice, probably.

Now, the scout is leading Solas, Dorian, Cassandra and herself through the labyrinth of rooms to somewhere they had missed on their earlier visits. Cass had sent her sympathetic looks earlier, when they had made camp. Dorian had been talking the whole way, trying to cheer her up. She appreciated it, but she is thankful he is silent now. Him and Solas can look at the item, spend the whole afternoon discussing it, then they can go back. Hopefully it will be worth their time. Hopefully Dorian and Solas will not need longer than an afternoon.

“Here it is,” the scout says a little later. They all crawl through the hidden door, and true enough, inside rests a strange object on a small pedestal. She agrees with the scout, it looks angry, all edges and an unsettling purple glow. She can smell the magic too, bitter like burnt mushrooms.

“Fascinating. I have not seen this kind of magic in a long time…” Solas takes a step forward and reaches for the object. The smell intensifies, and the magic grows. It is fast, or maybe she is slow. Dorian yells. Cassandra draws her sword. The violet tendrils reach for Solas, for his hand, twining up his arm. He flickers. He screams, or maybe she is the one screaming as she grabs him and tries to pull him back. Then the magic hits her, consumes her, but she doesn’t let go.

When she finally can see again, when the pain in her arm has faded, she is not in the muck of the broken temple. She is in hallway, lying ungracefully on top of Solas.  There is music somewhere and the air is cool. Above her, floating lamps cast a soft glow on the midnight blue drapes.

Solas’ clothes are fine, silk and gold and soft furs. Nothing like the rough clothes he usually wears, and nothing like the armor she still wears. Water from the derelict temple is still seeping through her boots. Beneath her, Solas’ chest is broad, solid and close. It feels like home, and it’s the last thing she should think about. She scrambles to her feet, and Solas follows. His eyes dart everywhere, panic and a strange recognition in his gaze.

There is a murmur of voices and clinks of glasses and footfalls and the rustle of fabric from the doorway to the left. The sound of people, many of them. She keeps her voice low.

“Where are we? What happened?”

“I’m sorry – I must act quickly.”

His magic washes over her, cool and clear and somewhat different than usual. Her armor disappears and she is dressed in an white gown, shimmering with golden lights. It clings to her upper body, split by a deep cut all the way down her stomach, and the skirt floats from her hips all the way to the floor. The material is softer than anything she knows. Her arms are covered in numerous golden bracelets. Thankfully, it almost feels like armor.

“Solas – what is going on?” She is not about to panic. It will do her no good.

“I need to… I don’t know for sure… I think we are – “

An elf strides from the doorway towards them. He is short and compact, with deep brown skin and clad entirely in black. His hair hangs in thick twists from his head, each intricately woven with gold.

“Lord Fen’Harel! I didn’t see you arrive. How long have you been hiding in the shadows?”

She must have misheard. Fen’Harel? But Solas replies without pause.

“How would you know?”

The man laughs – and she can’t tell if it is genuine or fake.

“I am afraid I have not yet made your acquaintance, my Lady.” He swoops in and grabs her hand, kissing it with an elegant bow. His fingers run questioningly over her palm. “A warrior? Are you here alone?”

“She is with me.” Solas pulls her close, his arm around her waist. She tries to ignore it’s the first time in weeks he has touched of his own volition. She has to keep her wits, and not notice how perfect his hand fits on her hip.  

“Lady Iwyn, this is Lord June. Lord June, please meet Lady Iwyn.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Iwyn. Let me know if the wolf’s challenges grow dull.”

June. Lord June. Fen’Harel.

She has to do something, not stand there and gape. What would Josephine do? An Orlesian curtsey are probably out, so she settles for a nod and a smile.

“As I am pleased to meet you, Lord June.”

June smiles broadly and turns to Solas. He talks about war or politics or both, and Solas confidently replies, smooth and even. He is at home here, though every answer is evasive.

“Let us re-join the party.” June moves towards the double doors where the music plays, and Solas follows. His hand slides from her waist and presents his arm for her to rest hers on. She has no choice but to do so. Where is she? What happened? Is this some sort of vision in the fade? Is this real? She remembers the elf’s – June’s - assessing gaze before Solas staked his claim, and she wonders what would have happened had she arrived here alone. Wherever ‘here’ may be.

They pass through the opulent golden doors. Magic swirls through the air, pressing against her, running through her. The spark she carries burst into flame. Inside, there are more people than she can count. Elves, all dressed in lavish garments embellished with precious stones or gold or silver or leather or fur.

She freezes, but Solas keeps moving, and she has to move with him so she doesn’t stumble. Her feet are bare, the only familiar thing other than Solas’ presence besides her. Except he is not familiar at all, no hint of the humble apostate. She is out of place, plain and small. She wishes her hair was done, instead of stuck in haphazard pony tail. She hopes she has no mud on her face.

They part with June, but soon another elf engages Solas in conversation. This time, she doesn’t recognize the name, thankfully, and after a similar simple introduction, she is left to observe again, the conversation involving topics and places she has never heard of.

She wishes she could pull Solas away, ask him where they are and what is going on, but every time they take a step, another person engage them in conversation. All she manages is a quick denial when she asks if this is the fade.

It is real, somehow. Real and overwhelming. It makes The Winter Palace look like a barn, the Orlesian Game feel like child’s play. She can’t tell how many questions Solas deflects with other questions, how many layers of vitriol is hidden beneath the niceties.  

Free to observe, she looks at the people. She notices the servants – or slaves she supposes. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth as she grabs an elegant glass of a tray. They are well but plainly clad, almost invisible shadows moving through the crowds, never looking her in her eyes. Vallaslin adorn their faces, the patterns varied and beautiful. No two alike. Something else the Dalish got wrong. It fills her with revulsion and curiosity. What do the different patterns mean? Do they all belong to different nobles?  

She realizes it is a blessing she no longer has her vallaslin. It would look wrong here, stark tattoo rather than the pulsing, swirling magic of these, and she could hardly be believed as Solas’ companion if she wore them.

The guests act and look like nobles. Some seem more important than others, but she doesn’t understand the system. She barely understands Orlais, so she stops trying to guess.

Here is another person to talk to, another introduction made. They look at her briefly, but with no challenge. They are there to talk to Fen’Harel.

That is what they call him, again and again. Her mind screams. Unreal. Unreal. Unreal. But the music and the drinks and Solas arm around her doesn’t feel like dream. It still feels different, like reality has no place here.

“We should dance,” Solas says, when he has bid a tall woman good evening. Someone else is approaching, but Solas is already in motion. She nods and smiles, and tries to remember what Josephine told her. If you look the part, no one will question you.

At the dance floor, Solas leads and she follows. The dance is easy enough, a relief. It also brings him close. His body next to hers, his hips pressed against hers.

“Iwyn,” he says, low in her ear when he gets the chance. “I must be brief. We have travelled back in time. I am sure much here is confusing.”

“It is. Fen’Harel.”

He winches. She almost regrets.

“I’m sorry. I will explain later. Please, do not offer anything to anybody. Do not say much about yourself, if you can. No one knows you, and they will rip you apart if they can, if only to elevate their own status. Be evasive.”

She nods.

“I am truly sorry, this is the only way to prevent it, you must be seen as someone who holds my full interest. Not just… professionally.”

His lips slide over her cheek, and it’s a ghost, a figment from when she was enough for him.

“Anyone unclaimed, anyone suspected of being a free agent, or without much power, or from a minor house, is seen as target of manipulation, expected to pay fealty or be subjected to someone else’s will. You must be seen as high enough status to be here on your own, and to be here with me.”

The music stops and he presses a quick kiss to her mouth. She wants more, and she wants to scream, to claw at him, to tell him to go fuck himself. She smiles gently and devoted at him.

She notices the gold earrings and studs in his ear. Intricately, a chain connects a stud in his lower ear to ring at the tip. She wonders if he would moan if she tugged gently on the chain, and it is absurd, inappropriate. She should focus, heed his words, and she has no right to know. Not anymore. No matter how good his acting is.

“So sweet – how long will it last? Until the morning?”

“Sylaise.”

Solas voice is cold and they turn to face the intruder. A tall woman, with beige skin shimmering like a flawless topaz, and her dark hair a waterfall down her back. Her flowy green dress is covered with swirling whorls and flowers, constantly in motion. She can almost glimpse the pattern once tattooed upon her face.

“Fen’Harel. Are you not going to introduce me to your companion?”

“This is Lady Iwyn,” Solas says. “She graciously accepted to accompany me tonight.”

“It is my pleasure to meet you, Lady Iwyn.” Sylaise’s dark eyes seem to glow and it is equally menacing and reassuring. The intent is different than the cool disdain she has for Solas.

“Would you do me the pleasure of having this dance?”

Sylaise smiles, and Iwyn doesn’t know is she is expressing genuine interest or if it is some sort of powerplay in front of Solas. Solas’ grip on her loosens, and she hopes she reads him right when she nods and accept the dance.

The music swells again, intricate unfamiliar rhythms, and she follows the taller woman, hard and beautiful. It is easy to dance with her. Sylaise holds her gaze, the intensity boring into her. Iwyn hopes she can’t read her mind, and she tries to bring forth nothing but memories of the party, of the beauty and grace she admires in the creature of legend who sweeps her around the floor. The air burns Iwyn’s lungs, and she is glad Sylaise asks no questions.

The dance ends and Sylaise kisses her cheek.  

“I do hope Fen’Harel doesn’t bore you. You are the most interesting thing he has dragged up for the past decade, I would hate to see you languish. Let me know anytime you want to … dance.”

“I will keep that in mind, Lady Sylaise.” She hopes her voice is steady, and the words vague enough to not insult.

They are, thankfully, right in front of Solas, so she doesn’t have to navigate this treacherous ground alone, out of place and out of time. Solas has a peculiar look on his face, and it makes her realize that she is here on purpose, where Solas had to overhear Sylaise and her offer. He saunters to her, and extends his hand.

“I hope you have room for one more dance with me, my - lady?”  He has never once called her my lady.

“Always,” she replies, and for her it is no act.

This time, when they dance, he holds her closer. She understands the dance now, but not the desperate, sorrowful look in his eyes. His magic runs over her, pouring out of him, like he is filled to the brim with emotions he doesn’t vocalize. She lets herself get carried by it, the floating lamps, the golden light, the polished floors and crystal windows. Unlike anything she has ever seen or felt. Solas’ hands are firm on her, his desire burning hot and real in this magic palace of dreams. She forgets where they are and what they are and aren’t, and enjoys his body a next to her.

He doesn’t let go when the dance ends. They are close, their faces mere inches apart, his familiar features an ache in her chest. Her lips are parted, and she snaps them shut. She wants to kiss him again, but she dares not.

“We should be able to leave soon,” he says.

“Good.”

She doesn’t want the charade to end, or maybe she does. She enjoys his closeness far too much. She has too many guesses and questions burning in her head.

After a few goodbyes, they leave through a large Eluvian placed in the lobby. Solas quickly hurries through the Crossroads, the landscape bending to his will. He is silent, and she does not interrupt. They pass through another Eluvian, howling wolves decorating the frame. Fen’Harel. Solas is Fen’Harel and she hasn’t had time to dwell on it.

“Fen’Harel.”

She blurts it out as soon as the mirror closes behind them, before she takes in the oval room the mirror is placed in, which looks identical from this side. Wolves, and wolves on the frescos – his frescos, covering the room, the walls, and the domed ceiling.

Solas’ shoulders sag at her outburst, as if she ran a spear through his chest. He does not meet her eyes when he turns to her.

“I am sorry. I … we should go somewhere private to speak. I do not know how far news will travel and we better keep up the charade.”

There are elves in the hallway beyond, curious glances quickly averted. Solas squares his shoulders and he grows taller, or broader, or simply more. Fen’harel.

She follows him through the doorway, where he puts his arm around her, and he leads her through hallways, light and airy and full of magic. He nods at the people – his servants, and he dismisses them with a wave of his hand.

They are finally alone when they arrive in a suite of rooms. The first has a sitting area and work desk strewn with papers and books, so familiar it hurts. She can glimpse a bedroom beyond the double doors.

“Please. I… we should be alone here. I am… I can’t…” He looks hopeless, lost, and he sits on the couch, and he puts his heads in his hands. “I suppose you have questions.”

She sits. She is next to him.

“Fen’harel? That was what you couldn’t tell me.”

“Yes. I… I wish…” he stalls, and he stares up at the corner of the room where the bookshelves meet the ceilings.

She lifts her hand, and she almost touches him. She lets it fall to her lap.

“Solas. Is that your real name? Or something you made up?” She needs to know. Who is this man next to her? The man who fought with her, who bled with her, who loved her.

“I was Solas first. Fen’Harel came later.”

“You’re a god.”

“No. There are no gods.” Resolutely he turns to her and explains. He tells of wars and deceit, of generals and leaders, of nobility and mage-kings. How later, they became revered as gods, but it was false. And it has not yet happened, but the seeds have been planted. June’s confidence and Sylaise’s haughtiness, and they both think themselves better than anyone else. How soon, Elgar’nan will declare himself a king, and a god.

She tries to understand. She fails. She knows he speaks the truth, but the truth is elusive yet.

“You couldn’t have explained this to me? You couldn’t trust me? I love you.”

“I wanted to. I… I am sorry. There are…” The words come haltingly, drawn from the depths. He collapses inwards and turns away.

“This isn’t all, is it?”

“No, there is more. Things that have not yet happened, though it is nigh inevitable. I have – I will soon… not soon, but.” He shakes his head.  

It is too much. The music and the party like a dream or a nightmare. The magic. The revelations and questions, the anguish that should be hers and not his. Her soul and her bones are tired, worn thin.

“Solas. Can I call you Solas still?”

“I prefer it.”

“Solas. It is late. We have travelled through time. Whatever else is there, let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow. Yes, you are right.”

Whatever else he has to say can wait. His secrets make him withdraw inside his own misery. She loves him. She can’t bear to see his pain. She knows now that he cares about her, more than she thought. She wants to take his hurt away. He is afraid, and she wants him to be bold. She wants him to let her love him. She rubs her hand over his back, gently, like she is soothing a frightened halla.

The tenseness leaves him as he accepts her caress, her caring. They sit, her hand on his back, stalled as the ever-present magic dances around them.

“The bedroom is through there,” Solas finally says. “You can… please take the bed. I can sleep here. I wouldn’t… I’m… It is best if we keep the cover story. I have – I had – plenty of guest rooms, but…”

She gets up and she peers into the room, revealing the biggest bed she has ever seen. She laughs.

“Solas. Don’t be ridiculous. We can both sleep comfortably, easily. I don’t think I have ever seen such a big bed.”

He shrugs.

“Come to bed. Rest. Let us talk more in the morning. It’s not as if we haven’t shared a bed before.” She notices the look on his face. “Sorry – I know it’s …. The bed is big, and I think we’re going to need all the rest we can get.”

He nods.

“I hope you can get me my armor back. And I need something to sleep in.”

He nods again, a little lost. He walks to a large closet and pulls out a tunic, clearly his own.

“You can use this to sleep in. I hope it’s – it can work. I’m afraid your armor is gone. You need something suitable made.”

She takes the tunic, and lets the dress slide off her, not bothering with fake modesty. Solas turns away quickly, but not before she sees the blush on his cheeks. He changes with his back turned, and it doesn’t prevent her own staring. She should probably apologize, but she doesn’t.  

Iwyn crawls under the blankets next to him. It feels strange, to share a bed with him again. She has a thousand questions. She wants to go home. She needs to calm her mind. She can feel the tension radiating off Solas, his breathing uneven. He looked so broken, after they were alone, and she knows he is deeply troubled. Did he think she would hate him? Fear him? Maybe she should, according to the legends, but she knows him. Her knowledge leaves no room for fear.  

She lets her hand wander across the bed, and finds his. She curls her fingers around his, and he squeezes them gently in return. Good.

She falls asleep, holding his hand.

[serafinetheangel]

This is a very small gift for @kawereen , hope you don’t mind if I’m almost two days late and I really hope you like it :)

P.S.: This is the setting, its name is “Lago di Arpy”, and this is Calanthae Lavellan.

“Why do we have to come back already? Can’t we stay a little more?”.

The piercing sound of Artemis’ disapproval tone broke the silence but Lyliane shook her head and went on putting her things in the bag.

“Look at the sun. It might not look like that but it already started to set and we just have no more than the hours it takes to get back to the village”. Lyliane sighed. “And believe me, it is better to be already back home at night”.

Artemis sighed after the elf, she was born there and it wouldn’t be wise not to listen to her even if that place was beautiful. She looked at the landscape once more, the wild landscape of the Frostback Mountains in autumn. Sitting on the grass, Artemis looked at the crystal clear water of the alpine lake that reflected the blue of an afternoon sky, the silhouettes of the pines already turning into a warm tone of orange on fields covered with golden grass and the peaks of the mountains wearing their usual snow caps.

A sudden gust of cold wind made Artemis stand up and fasten her blue cloak with a white border of fur, then her light blue eyes crossed Lyliane’s peaceful gaze. The silver Vallaslin on her forehead looked almost gold in the warm light of the setting sun.

“Alright, now I’m ready to leave”, she uttered, fastening the quiver with bow and arrows on her back. Lyliane’s eyebrows rose with surprise only for a second, then a wide smile appeared on her face.

“Good to hear it”. Lylie set the bag on her shoulder and checked the sheath of the sword to be tied to the belt, then she started walking down the narrow path that crossed the field and led to her village.

“I assume you liked this little hike we made today”, the elf added while looking at the curvy path in front of her. She heard Artemis softly laugh behind her.

“I can’t say that a four hours hike on a path like this one is a little one but I loved the lake! Thank you, Lylie”.

A rumble reached her ears and Lyliane suddenly stopped, looking around for thunderstorm clouds that seemed nowhere to be seen, and Artemis almost hit her back.

“Hey, what…?”, she asked, confused by the elf’s behaviour.

“What was that sound?”, Lyliane answered with another question, turning back and looking at her friend. Artemis stroked the scruff of her neck.

“Oh, that sound? Ahem… I’m afraid it was my stomach. Aren’t you hungry?”.

The elf and the human looked into each other’s eyes, and they burst out laughing.

Later, at Lyliane’s home…

“Calanthae Lavellan, will you ever stop laughing at me?”.

Cullen Rutherford was standing arms crossed in the middle of the small kitchen, watching the blonde mage who was almost doubled over with laughter. Calanthae had always seen him like the super busy and authoritative Commander of the Forces of the Inquisition and couldn’t really imagine that one day he would stand in front of her covered with flour. Actually, most of the kitchen was covered with flour.

“Lylie will kill us both if she’ll see the conditions of her kitchen”.

Cullen knew that Calanthae was right. There were bowls, wooden spoons and dishes everywhere as well as the flour, a consequence of the afternoon spent trying to cook something good for dinner and to bake an apple cake. Lyliane brought Arry on a hike and Cullen was happy to be able to work on a surprise for her.

He looked out of the small window, it was already dark and Lylie and Arry weren’t home but it wouldn’t take long.

“Help me Calanthae. It is better to clean up this mess before the two arrive”.

Calanthae took his request seriously and rolled up her sleeves.

“Yes, Commander!”, she answered and laughed. “Oh, where did Lylie hide the gift?”.

“She told me it was hidden in her wardrobe”.

“Okay, I’ll get it”. Calanthae rushed upstairs into Lyliane’s bedroom and looked for the weapon into the wardrobe. Cullen, Lylie and Calanthae decided to give her a new bow as a gift, but it shouldn’t be a simple one. In fact, it was crafted by the elves of Lyliane’s Clan and then she carved the elegant, elfic patterns herself.

There it was, well hidden behind her clothes. Calanthae added a blue ribbon to the bow and ran back to Cullen, there was no time to lose.

The night sky in Enyladell looked like a dome covered with bright stars. Arry stretched a little bit while Lylie was opening the door.

“I’m so tired I think I’d sleep for at least 10 hours”. Lyliane laughed.

“Weren’t you hungry?”.

“Don’t underrate me. I can be both”.

Lyliane opened the door, but all that Arry could see inside was darkness. The elf left her bag and cloak in the small entrance and suddenly the sweet smell of an apple cake reached her nose.

Followed by Arry, she went straight to the kitchen where suddenly a bright light lit the room. The table was set for dinner with lots of delicious food and an apple cake that really looked appetizing. On a chair, there was the bow carved by Lylie and embellished with a ribbon and behind the table, Cullen and Calanthae were standing proud of their work and they suddenly shout “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”.

[chenria]

OC Kiss Week 2017 - Arry Lavellan and Arialla Lavellan 

Arabella “Arry” Lavellan belongs to the lovely @dracoangelz  Arialla is my (neglected) Lavellan who not even managed to get to Skyhold in the game so far... XD

This is just a fast picture because - as I said earlier - it is hard to function properly on 5 hours of sleep. But I wanted to finish this. And I had the sketch ready. So a less detailed kiss picture was after all possible today. 

@dracoangelz - I really hope you like it. 

[aether-seawolf]

With DA4 on the way, time to revisit my OCs

DAO: Kiera Tabris - elven rogue extraordinaire. 19 at the beginning of Origins. Punk goth aesthetic. Totally out of her depth. 3edgy5u. Trying and failing to keep her walls up around Zevran who she thinks is cute. Looks up to Wynne. Thinks Leliana is insane with all this talk of the Maker and visions. Best friends with Morrigan. Takes a long time to feel comfortable around Alistair, but afterwords wishes more humans were like him. Shale might be onto something.  DA2: Antoinette (Toni) Hawke - (Yes its Toni Hawke. I have no regrets) Mage. 25. Floral aesthetic when she can. Blue Hawke most of the time. With Fenris. Spent the entire six years setting up Bethany and disaster mage, Anders. Stans Merrill and Isabella. Mage rights all the way. Team Justice with Aveline and Varric.  DAI: The Demon Twins, Aro and Arri Lavellan - so called for their red hair and mischievous ways. 28. Evil Trio with Sera. Keep their tricks well clear of Vivienne because the memory of the last time she had ENOUGH is still too fresh  Arobynn (Aro) - Hunter and warrior. Always protects his sister. Head over heels for Dorian but has no clue what to do about it. The mastermind of the two. Comes up with the best pranks. Absolutely horrified his twin has the mark. Distrusts shems especially the ones with the Chantry leading to a rocky start with the Inquisition. Thinks Briala has the right idea. Varric talks him into giving Cassandra and Leliana a chance. Still thinks Cullen should stay away from his sister.   Cheats at Wicked Grace. Will 100% murder Solas after Trespasser.  Arriana (Arri) - First for Clan Lavellan. Too curious for her own good. Always wandering into trouble and sticking her nose where it doesnt belong (thats how she gets the mark). Has Solas and Cullen wrapped around her fingers. Thinks Aro is too protective but would take an arrow for him. Tries to be fair as the Inquisitor. Looks to Vivienne and Josie for a lot of political advice. Almost died laughing watching her sibling work up enough courage to ask Dorian to dance at Halamshiral - fighting bears is easy but asking your crush to dance isnt? Taking the loss of her arm one day at a time. 

[the-temple-of-sacred-asses]

Tell us more about your OCs! how many do you have? What are they all like? Romances? Classes?

oh wow, i’m actually so excited to share these guys with you! they’re not technically all mine, some of them belong to my sisters, but we talk about them all so much that i know theirs as well as my own. 

anyway, they’re all part of a group called the Inquisi-squad (bc they’re the inquisition’s squad goals).

Mariah Trevelyan

Titles: Lady, Heir to House Trevelyan, Inquisitor Race: humanClass: sword and shield warrior Age: 36 Romance: BlackwallPersonality traits: practical, charismatic, efficient, strong-willed, stubborn, hot-headedFamily: Oscar Trevelyan (father)Maya Trevelyan (mother; deceased)Katerina Trevelyan (step-mother) Wren and Lilac Trevelyan (half-sisters)Dominic Trevelyan (cousin)

Wren Trevelyan

Titles: LadyRace: humanClass: mageAge: 26Romance: CullenPersonality traits: gentle, idealistic, passionate, creative, fearful, overly-emotionalFamily:Oscar Trevelyan (father)Katerina Trevelyan (mother)Mariah Trevelyan (half-sister)Lilac Trevelyan (sister)Dominic Trevelyan (cousin)

Lilac Trevelyan

Titles: Lady, Herald of AndrasteRace: humanClass: dual-wielding rogueAge: 23Romance: JosephinePersonality traits: fun-loving, energetic, good sense of humor, charismatic, unfocused, rebelliousFamily:Oscar Trevelyan (father)Katerina Trevelyan (mother)Mariah Trevelyan (half-sister)Wren Trevelyan (sister)Dominic Trevelyan (cousin)

Dominic Trevelyan

Titles: LordRace: humanClass: sword and shield warriorAge: 30Romance: CassandraPersonality traits: strategic mind, quick thinker, decisive, hard-working, guarded, judgmentalFamily:Maxwell Trevelyan (father; disowned)Victoria Trevelyan (mother; disowned)Wesley Trevelyan (brother)Anna Trevelyan (sister)Mariah, Wren, and Lilac Trevelyan (cousins)

Tamren “Tammy” Lavellan

Titles: HunterRace: elfClass: bow and arrow rogueAge: 32Romance: DorianPersonality traits: curious, observant, sociable, flirty, bottles up emotions, doesn’t take things seriouslyFamily:Aldor Lavellan (father)Brisa Lavellan (mother)Varrith, Hawen, Arris, Sorren, and Lemael Lavellan (brothers)Sunelia Lavellan (sister)

Sunelia “Sunny” Lavellan

Race: elfClass: two-handed warriorAge: 25Romance: SolasPersonality traits: sociable, cheerful, curious, enthusiastic, arrogant, selfishFamily:Aldor Lavellan (father)Brisa Lavellan (mother)Varrith, Hawen, Arris, Sorren, Tamren, and Lemael Lavellan (brothers)

Melazi “Mel” Adaar

Race: qunariClass: mageAge: 22Romance: SeraPersonality traits: fun-loving, creative, warm, passionate, easily distracted, insecureFamily:Akan Adaar (father)Karemin Adaar (mother)

[dracoangel]

Probably not considered complete side profiles? but here are some of mine

Alec Trevelyan

Arry Lavellan

Noelle Trevelyan

Davia Rutherford

OCs - in profile!

I have big, big love for a nice side-view screenshot of an oc, so, you know, since your ocs are all so lovely from the front, there’s no way they won’t be gorgeous in profile too! AND I HAVE A MIGHTY NEED TO SEE IT.

I’ll start; reblog with yours or post some and tag me!

Go!

[dracoangel]

My new Rook for my f!Lavellan romancing Solas PT. Her name is Renfri Thorne and she is a Grey Warden (it was a choice between Grey Warden and Crow)

And here is Inquisitor Arry Lavellan

And I still forgot to save the sliders for the Inquisitor 🤬

[inkywarden]

🏹 🏹

[screenviolense-a]

DRAGON AGE STARTER CALL.

reply with the emoji(s) of which muses you want

🔮 anais lavellan

⚔️ arri trevelyan

❤️ bethany hawke

💫 dorian pavus

🧝🏻‍♀️ elian tabris

🪓 gaius brosca

🥻 larianni

🩸 malcolm hawke

💖 marian hawke

[la-luna-del-lupo]

Tagged by @meichii, thank you!

Tagging: (again don’t do the tag if you don’t wanna) @julesinblack @im-the-hella-wolfstargazer @tea-with-ghosts @thekingoftrashwillneverdie @lookingglasswolf

Rules: answer all questions, add one question of your own and tag as many people as there are questions (if you can)

1. coke or pepsi: coke 2. disney or dreamworks: Dreamworks, but only for stuff like The Ring 3. coffee or tea: Tea! 4. books or movies: Books 5. windows or mac: Windows, I’m too poor for a mac. 6. dc or marvel: DC 7. x-box or playstation: Playstation! 8. dragon age or mass effect:  I haven’t played either of them, but probably Mass Effect.

9. night owl or early riser: Night owl                                              

10. Card or chess: Cards                                                                                 

11. chocolate or vanilla: Vanilla

12. vans or converse: Converse every day. 13. Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash, or Adaar: I don’t know 14. fluff or angst: Always the angst 15. beach or forest: Beach 16. dogs or cats: I used to be a dog person, but now I am in love with cats. 17. clear skies or rain: Rain is so calming 18. cooking or eating out: Eating out 19. spicy food or mild food: Spicy 20. halloween/samhain or solstice/yule/christmas: Halloween/ Samhain is my favorite 21. would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: too hot 22. if you could have a superpower, what would it be: Teleportation 23. animation or live action: Both 24. paragon or renegade: I have no idea 25. baths or showers: Showers 26. team cap or team ironman: Team Iron Man                                                      27. fantasy or sci-fi: Sci-fi 28. do you have three or four favorite quotes, if so what are they:

“Don’t sweat the small stuff. It’s good to let chaos take over and know in your heart that everything will be okay eventually.”

“I was never insane except on occasions when my heart was touched.”

“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn, is just to love and be loved in return.”

29. youtube or netflix: Netflix 30. harry potter or percy jackson: Harry Potter 31. when you feel accomplished: When I get things done completely and on time. 32. star wars or star trek: Star Wars, but I like Trek too 33. paperback books or hardback books: Either one 34. to live in a world without literature or without music?: I can’t ;ive without music. I would have to give up literature. 35. who was the last person to make you laugh?: My best friend 36. which is better: sour or sweet candy?: Sweet 37. do you believe in aliens?: Yes, I do 38. dawn or dusk?: Dusk 39. piercings or tattoos?: Tattoos are the best 40. girls? HOT?????: Girls are beyond beautiful.  41: snow or fog?: Fog 42: do you sleep facing the wall or the room?: I sleep with my back to the wall. 43: TRC or AFTG?: I’m not sure 44: horror or drama?: Horror 45: ocarina of time or majora’s mask?: don’t know 46: would you rather live in an area of more nature or city?: City!          

 47. what’s your addiction right now?: Music, playing bass                                    48. what languages can you speak?: English                                             

 49. If you could live anywhere in the world where would it be? Sheffield, England or San Francisco

50. If you could go back in time and relive a certain year of your life which year would it be and why? I would relive 2009 when I got to go to my first Green Day show and relive that night over and over again.