#da Jowan

[inquisitorgaywarden]

These two...

Just a thought, but if Jowan had gotten help from Anders instead, maybe, just maybe, the two of them would be long gone, phylacteries destroyed, cats adopted

[housederiva]

Before you vote please keep in mind that a blorbo isn't necessarily your favorite romance option The two with the highest percentages move on to the next round!

-> Master Post

[bloodybiohazard]

various things my friends (not dragon age fans) have said about the characters

loghain: "looks like joe biden if he turned evil." wynne: "she's not winning anything with that look." zevran: "pj bird boy!" justice: "i feel like if i stood next to him, i would get like 50 different diseases." sigrun: "goth girl dwarf goth girl dwarf!" jowan: "he looks like a sad wet puppy." carver: "he looks like a basic bitch." varric: [before i sent the pictures] "where's the boy?!" tallis: "i hate that stupid armor shirt she's wearing." blackwall: "what's wrong with this guy's face??" "he looks like the gigachad meme." iron bull: "you could cut tomatoes with that jaw." cole: "he looks like he'd taste like vanilla." dorian: "he looks like a gay porn star from the 80s." solas: "egg."

[lasatfat]

Hi hi!! Happy Friday <3 How about "do you ever wonder what our lives will be like in ten years?" from the platonic sentence starters, for Eireann and one of her friends (or several!!)

platonic sentence starters | @dadrunkwriting

This is kinda rough around the edges - I haven't written Jowan before, but there's a first time for everything. I hope it's okay.

Ten Years' Time

She was nine years old when she asked Jowan, “what do you think we’ll be like in ten years?”

They were sitting out in the little forecourt, where mages were allowed to exercise. Wintersend had just passed, and the air still carried a chill, but the mages had been locked inside since the end of Harvestmere. Everyone had poured out of the doors as soon as they were opened. Eireann and Jowan were perched with books on the boundary wall. The water of Lake Calenhad spread out to the east, and the tower rose high above them to the west. The weak afternoon sun hung behind it, casting its long shadow out into the deep.

Jowan looked up from his book. After months inside, his pale skin was close to white, and there were purplish circles under his eyes. “We’ll both be enchanters,” he said, with a shrug.

“But what will we be doing?” she persisted.

Jowan was silent for a long time. Eireann decided that he must be ignoring her, and her face curled into a scowl. It wasn’t like it was a difficult question. There were only so many things she could be. Even before she came to the tower, she was limited. Human children might dream of becoming knights or Templars, but elves cannot wield blades in Ferelden. They might play at being princesses or adventurers, but Eireann knew what the future held for her. She would help her mother work, and when she came of age, she would be sent away to marry. She’d work for her husband, and the children she’d bear.

Eventually, however, he gave her an answer.

“I think you’ll be teaching the apprentices,” he said.

She leaned in, her anger forgotten. “You think so?”

He nodded. “Yes. You’d be good at that.”

Would she? Eireann had been good at looking after her brother, sure, but she’d never taught him anything. They mostly played with the other alienage children – prisoner’s base and ninepin bowling and hoodman’s blind. Mamae taught them how to speak, how to read, and how to write. Meallán struggled, because his eyes were bad. Eireann healed him with a prayer, and now, she’s here.

She shook herself mentally, before she started crying. Jowan had seen her cry before, of course, but not out here in front of everyone else too. “What about you?”

He didn’t answer for a long time. Perhaps he was taking a long time to think today. “You could help me,” she offered.

“If I’m still around,” he agreed.

Eireann frowned to herself. Where else would he be?

*****

She is nineteen years old when she sees Jowan for the last time.

She comes upon him in the woods, along the River Dane. The deer have long since fled, and the blighted have come to take their place. Jowan has been many things – a blood mage, an apostate, a useful idiot for their traitor king – but right now, he’s the only thing standing between a group of refugees and a fucking bereskarn. The old Jowan may have frozen in fear, or run for his life. Now, he stands rooted to the spot. Magic crackles around a simple staff, wood carved into the shape of a serpent. The bereskarn rears, ready to cut him down with a great, warped paw.

Eireann is a Grey Warden now. It’s her duty to stand against the Blight. She raises her sword to the sky, blade glittering with magic, and a bolt of lightning flashes out of the blue. It strikes the tainted bear on the top of its head. It takes one step, groans, and topples onto its side. A few meek twitches, and it’s dead.

When Jowan looks at her, he’s far more frightened than he was looking at the bereskarn. After all, a bereskarn can only kill you.

“Are you alright?” she asks. He nods, and she looks over his shoulder to the refugees. Three of them, two teenagers and an old man, each one shivering in fear. “You?”

It’s a pitiful group. They look as if they’re carrying everything they have left on their backs. But they’re alive, and they’re still standing. That’s no small thing, these days. Jowan has done a good job of protecting them. Eireann vaguely wonders where he learned to defend himself so well.

“Please, Eire…” Jowan catches himself. “My lady, I was just trying to do the right thing,” he pleads.

The older man steps forward, his arm extended to shield the teenagers from further harm. “Yes, Master Levyn has saved us three times over. We’d be dead without him. Don’t go turning him in now.”

Eireann considers them all, these people and their unlikely saviour.

“Then turning him in would be condemning you to death,” she says, firmly. “I’d consider that a far greater crime than apostasy, wouldn’t you?”

She turns to her party. Leliana and Alistair understand. Zevran doesn’t appear to be interested at all, though she knows better than to believe that. Mabu will do just about anything if there’s a Mabari crunch in it for her. None of them will oppose her in this.

“It’s settled, then,” she says. She turns back to Jowan, and bows her head. “You’re free to go.”

That should be where it rests. Jowan should leave, and Eireann should continue on her way. Instead, she throws her arms around him, and holds him tight against her. He might be crying. She certainly is.

“Thank you.” He whispers the words against her ear.

Make it count, she almost says. But she knows she doesn’t need to. She knows that he will.

[dwarvenwarden]

THE CIRCLE OF MAGI // DRAGON AGE ORIGINS

Finally making some dao gifs :)

[varrics-chesthair]

[mozzawind]

{ You Called Me Friend }

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. Dragon Age Mage Origin got me sobbing bad

[handsomeamoeba]

Dragon Age Companion Showdown Round 1

[ilios-feainn]

I... I need to hear more oh dear gods

one of my favorite stupid things to do in fanfic is to throw two characters together who literally never interact. and then give them an entire, fleshed-out relationship dynamic that exists nowhere but my own head. yes they’ve literally never spoken. yes their relationship is important to me. hope this helps.

[catebees]

may i humbly request a jowan 👀

The original sad little meow meow

[drathe]

Dragon Age Keep tiles for Jowan:

Circle - Warden - Levyn

[damallarky]

Ok. So, like, you know who I really want to see in Veilguard, but probably never will?

Jowan.

Like, we talk about how Solas’s plans never work out. But have you guys met my boy Jowan? If Solas is the King of Fuck Ups then Jowan is the Prince, because that man was just one consecutive woopsie after another.

He tries to get a leg up on Magic so he learns Blood Magic but then he gets caught and his magic does not, in fact, improve.

Then he hatches to plan to escape the circle with his chantry girlfriend and that one doesn’t work out either. And when he uses the aforementioned blood magic to save himself and his girlfriend, she leaves him.

THEN he gets caught up in Logain’s nonsense and gets roped into poisoning Arl Eamond which sets off a chain of events and turns Redcliffe into the Walking Dead.

I want to see what he’s going to fuck up next. I want him to accidentally knock over a lamp post and set the whole of Minrathous on fire.

Retcon his fate if you need to BioWare. I want to know what that pathetic wet rag of a man has been up to.

(Maybe I should make Jowan my Rook. That would be hilarious. Can you imagine?)

[npunarts]

My little Bebe 💖🥹🥺

[crisdoesart]

those loved have become nothing more than memories

[dearasteria]

warm-up painting of Jowan

[bloodybiohazard]