#fatesown

[hoboblaidd]

i feel like someone Has to ask abt halamshiral, so if no one else has, i will <3

ask meme - inquisition locations

god thank you bc Halamshiral is so interesting (and contradictory) from a Solas perspective.

Halamshiral itself is not a place of good memories, for either the elves or Solas personally, and the latter, at least, is his own damn fault.

First, the most important part of its history is elven, yes, but as far as we know, it’s all after the fall of Elvhenan. The Ancient Age timeline is iffy at best, but the Long Walk is well after Solas put up the Veil. 

Second, Halamshiral ties directly into one of Solas’ shittiest moves in the lore (which is impressive, given his long list of shitty moves). Because of Celene’s massacre of the elves, and Briala’s uprising, Felassan sees that the Dragon Age’s elves are just as real and worthy of living as the ancient elves. Felassan’s choice to allow Briala to keep control of the eluvians and tell Solas to, respectfully, fuck off, gets Felassan killed. Just because he dared to say that these are their people, too.

So Solas not only lost one of, if not the, last remaining allies he had, he “lost” Felassan because his pride and anger got the better of him. This is the Solas who didn’t blink over destroying the Conclave and the world at the start of Inquisition. He didn’t really gain a semblance of humanity beyond Make Thedas Elvhenan Again until he was stuck with the Inquisition for a while.

And yet for all this historical and personal shitshow, and how truly awful it must be to walk in its memories in the Fade, when we bring Solas to the Winter Palace he is having a fucking ball. He is vibing. Not only is he drunk off his ass, which I love, but it’s like he’s really living for the first time in a while. This is the most we really see him as himself, or at least, the slightly more carefree self he must’ve been once. The Orlesian Game is stupid, but boy does he seem to enjoy it. 

It’s understandable why - his rebellion wasn’t just battles. That great lore piece with Fen’harel and the noble (“kill the other daughter”) reads far more as a rebellion of subterfuge rather than an actual fight. If Fen’harel could “walk in both worlds”, he was probably doing Lelianna-level intrigue at a bunch of evanuris and adjacent functions before the Dread Wolf rebellion overtly took off.

Solas at the Winter Palace is like he finally got a shot of adrenaline he didn’t realize he’d been missing. Like, say, an extrovert finally extroverting after being in lockdown during COVID lol. He forgot how damn fun this could be.

The Trespasser Winter Palace experience is entirely different, and I think a lot of that owes to how changed he is after he gets his power back. Whether it's the power itself, the regret over Mythal, or that he now has more regrets over his impending 'my world-ending explosion is gonna make Anders look like a saint' (or all of the above). Trespasser Solas is back to being the Dread Wolf, and he doesn't seem like he's had any fun in the intervening two years so. Not drunk this time.

[mournflame]

Every time Lou drops a new nickname for Ziphrane, I jot it down because it amuses me personally

[heirbane]

[ lean ] sender slowly leans into receiver's shoulder and rests there for a while // from y'shtola uwu

Y'shtola was not one for overt affection - at least, not when it came to their situationship, something that suited Gaius just fine. He was comfortable enough to avoid attention from his Stadium peers, and to allow Allie to simply exist without the weight of her father's sins around her neck.

But sometimes - ... even Y'shtola proved to surprise him, to curl around his ankles like an aloof house cat when she deigned him worthy of attention. Those moments were few and far between, especially when they were involving themselves out in Sharlay proper.

He must have done something right. Whether it was the mug of coffee he had brought to her, sitting on one of the many benches around the campus, or the arm he had so carelessly slung across the back of the seat -

Something had swayed him into her favor, and the gesture he received felt as if it could sustain him for the rest of his life.

"The moon is out already," he stated. He felt her tail around his hips, her ear against his shoulder. His own empty coffee was sitting on the ground near his feet.

"The sun is - ... nearly gone, but not quite. There are stars out. Just a handful yet. And nary a cloud in the sky," he finished. A breeze picked up, fluttering her hair against his neck, the cool autumn air causing a deep ache within his bones that promised foul weather.

"It may rain come mid-night, however. Or snow. What say you?" He mused. "Have you heard elsewise today?"

His words were moot. They were simply to fill the space, to add levity to the closeness she had gifted him - to paint a picture of the world they currently were in. It was not the first time he had tried to lend her sight through his musings, nor would it be the last; a small morsel of gratitude for the intimacy she was giving him.

It was not much to offer, but it was what he had.

[nobroth]

@fatesown sent “Promise me you won’t fall in love with me.”

Alistair blushes so loud he can hear the rush of the blood in his ears. Or at least, he thinks he can.

     “I-” he sputters. “I only said that there isn’t many women in the Grey Wardens.”

Her wink and smile is so– he doesn’t even know what to– he didn’t–

     “I-” his brain is stuck, he thinks. 

He may pass out.

He may die.

     “Please stop at me like that. I’m not a creep.” He clears his throat. "And don't... don't tell Duncan about this. Okay?"

[dreadwxlf]

@fatesown sent: “lucky for us, we’ve got a knack for miracles.” - from dhavihal

~ " That is one way of putting it, I suppose," Solas replied wryly. " Though I am I not certain we should place our trust in some grand, unknowable power. It will be our actions alone that will be responsible for closing the Breach. " His eyes travel to the swirling emerald mass of clouds above them: an ever present reminder of his mistakes. His hope now rested in this Dalish quickling, unknowingly wielding the power of the ancients. They would need a miracle indeed. ~

~ " ...Do you truly believe you were sent by Andraste, as the humans say? " ~

[soulcluster]

OTPs + nOTPs + Kratos >:3c

send "OTPs + nOTPs + [a muse name]" for me to list out my favourite pairings, and the pairings i am not interested in, for that muse

Anna. I am a simple simp lol she barely has a character portrait but I am an absolute sucker for star-crossed lovers and also, just the way Kratos speaks of that time they were together, how he compares Lloyd to her, speaks to her grave, you can tell how deeply he loved about her, not to mention when he fights Kvar and the righteous anger going through his voice just ughhh the other thing I am an absolute simp for is a man who is deeply in love with someone. I would love to do a much thorough exploration into their ship cause it just hurts so good

I don't think I really have a nOTP for Kratos tbh. If anything, it'd be with his son (oh yes, those shippers are out there, I have seen them. searching for Kratos fanart is always a gamble)

Other than that, it's really just about building chemistry (special shout out to Martel and I blame you for that)

[blightcd]

It was a harsh trip for someone still recovering, even with the woman's aid and healing. The biting cold of the wilds was certainly of no help, but he had been through worse, he would survive. He had to. If not for the young wardens who looked to him for guidance on their travels then for the rest of the world, even if he couldn't fight he knew where to go, who to seek out, he just hoped it wouldn't come to that.

It's only as the young dalish enters view that his thoughts shift. Fleeting apologetic thoughts pass through his mind, such a shame to be taken from their clan just to be given a death sentence and the weight of the world on her shoulders... Rousing from his reverie as he sees her speak to him, not catching a single word.

❝I'm sorry, I was merely lost in thoughts. What were you saying?❞

@fatesown.

[tenebriism]

GRINS SMUGLY. This is how you pay attention to a lady.

[styxisms]

@fatesown wanted g'raha (2/2)

"I know time is something we are not we are blessed with an abundance of... But I wanted to ask... Are you doing alright, my friend?"

[brightblessed]

@fatesown (continued)

He gritted his teeth, fist clenched tightly at his side. Revenge? Roi had thought, for a long time, that people that prattle on about revenge were fools. That there was no reason to seek it. So he told himself again and again after he saw men die chasing it. He had tried to distance himself from emotion for a long time. But it always swallowed him. He had thought revenge a foolish reason to do anything. But had that not been what motivated him to stop Thordan? At that point, the idea of a great threat to the realm meant nothing compared to letting the man that was responsible for Haurchefant's death escape and live on. Justice. That was what he called it. There was no god passing on blessings to the righteous and condemnations to the wicked. It was in their hands. And Roi had doled out his own personal justice against the wicked again and again. An eye for an eye. And in those moments, he didn't care about anything but the rage gnawing away at his soul.

Was it so different from revenge? It had been a long time since he had first picked up his sword in Ishgard and swore to bring justice to the strong and protection to the weak. It had been even longer since the empire took his home and family away for the first time. And since then, he had seen the echoes of his history in countless places. All due to the empire's twisted ways. Seeing the empire in such a state made parts of his rotten heart tingle with glee. They had it coming.

But it wasn't fair. Not all of them actively participated in what happened to him. Not all of them supported it. Most were probably uneducated or convinced by the government that they had been in the right. But it's not fair. No one came to save his family. No one saved him. The child inside of him screamed at him to turn away. To let them suffer as he had.

"You forget who you're talking to." Roi replies, his eyes burning with fury that would certainly impress Halone herself. "I AM violence. No matter where I go... That's the only thing I can bring with me." He was a weapon. Even if the people that cared about him wanted to see him as a man, he would always be a sword first. The fire inside of him flickered out rather quickly. He averts his gaze.

He was trying to be better. He had to be better. He had a responsibility. They would have never helped him. But Roi was supposed to be a hero. Even if he never truly WAS one. Even if it was all expectations that others put on him. He wanted to be the person they thought he was.

There is a bitter chuckle. He truly resented his twisted heart. His weakness. How he could never be the person he should be. More than anything, he hated out his feelings controlled him so totally. He was trying to be better at communicating with his friends. Being open with them. After all... he knew they saw him as more than a weapon. Otherwise... would they have tried so hard to save him when he was dying in the First?

"I... I know you're right. Most of these people don't deserve what a part of me wishes would happen to them." There is a pause, the rage in his eyes turning inward. Sorrow weighed on his chest as the embers of fury turned to cold ash. "I keep thinking that it isn't fair. That they would never reach out to help us as we're doing for them."

He looks at her for a moment, a sad smile creeping upon his lips. He hated to show his weakness to anyone. But... it was important for them to be on the same page here. The Final Days were on the horizon if their enemies did as they wished.

"I don't know if I can control myself if someone pushes me. I know I need to be here to stop Zenos.... But it's... not safe for the people here for me to..." He didn't trust himself one bit with his anger. "Never mind. It's fine." He needed to be strong and reliable. Not... this.

[osovereign]

☆ — @fatesown --- martel yggdrasill.

the  holy  grounds  of  kharlan…  the  great  seed  had  blossomed  and  sylverant  and  tethe'alla  had  become  as  one  again.  the  endless  cycle  of  vying  for  each  other’s  mana  had  been  stopped  and  now  his  old  apprentice  and  friend  could  finally  rest  at  peace. still  ,  a  sadness  is  shown  in  the  former  key  of  origin's  eyes.  it  had  been  a  few  weeks  since  the  final  fight  against  mithos  but  kratos  could  still  recall  it  as  if  it  where  happening  again  right  before  his  eyes.  the  angel  could  still  hear  martel's  voice  in  colette’s  body  ...  and  in  that  moment:  all  he  could  see  was  her.  the  clear  visual  of  the  false  goddesses  long  seaweed  hued  hair  and  the  most  calming  of  voice’s  that  ones  ears  could  ever  be  blessed  enough  to  hear.  it  was  in  these  moments  of  calm  and  quiet  his  mind  filled  with  memories  and  thoughts  he’d  rather  keep  locked  away  ( forget  and  lose  to  his  aeon  lifetime ):  this  was  only  the  second  dusk  upon  a  new  future  ( crafted  by  the  flesh  and  blood  of  his  own ):  kratos  would  visit  an  area  not  known  to  many  filled  with  greenery  and  the  clearest  stretch  of  sky  that allowed  for  the  best  view  of  the  shining  white  bursts  of  lights  up  above  ( all  bursting  supernovas  and  miniature  sunlight ):  that  the  angel  had  always  found  himself  fond  of.

sure  ,  the  aselia  that  came  before  wasn't  perfectly  back  together.  the  man  made  celestial  could  recall  the  differences  in  landscapes  and  climates  that  weren't  there  four  thousand  years  ---  or  was  it  simply  ,  his  old  mind  beginning  to  slip?  but  as  a  whole  ,  kratos  could  never  forget  beautiful  aselia  ,  in  its  entirety  could  be.  this  fact  was  even  more  keen  as  the  wind's  that  blew  on  the  night  air  carried  the  grace  of  his  ,  physically  ,  long  bygone  friend.  amongst  the  grounds  of  kharlan  ( nothing  like  they  used  to  be  ,  nothing  like  they  would  be  again  ):  did  sweet  remembrance  flood  back  into  his mental  and  kratos  allowed  himself  to  travel  back  to  the  times before  all  the  mess  that  he  had  helped  create  of  the  world  (  all  of  the  genocide  and  devastation  and  ruin  ):  a  bloodstained history  that  would  make  most  people  weep.  though  for  the  ancient  hero  of  yore  it  was  nothing  more  than reason  to  make  him  live  another  day  ,  to  mentally  prepare  for  his  upcoming  journey  to  derris-kharlan  ( to  give  those  left  behind  and  discriminated  against  a  home  of  their  very  own ):  when  one  aged  as  much  as  he  did  you  couldn’t  help  but  live  in  memories  of  the  past.

❝ m-martel.  ❞ her  name  flows  off  his  tongue  as  gospel  ,  as  an  unheard  whispered  prayer.  sounding  every  bit  like  a  young  boy  first  joining  the  royal  guard  thousands  of  years  ago  instead  of  the  war  god  and  divine  god  slaying  celestial.  distance  mattered  not  to  a  winged  celestial  ---  all  half  man  and  half  god.  his  eyes  could  see  meters  away  what  would  look  like  a  few  steps  to  the  average  man.  inside  her  visage  was  the  souls  of  hundreds  ,  no  thousands  of  others  but  kratos  could  hone  onto  her  mana  signature…  that  aura  was  all  martel!  she  was  as  herself  and  as  tabatha  ,  a  doll  crafted  with  his  own  two  hands  in  her  image.  before  he  knows  it  his  feet  are  carrying  him  fast  and  heavy  across  the  earth  (  for  what  is  flight  to  an  angel  that  knew  the  wonders  of  being  a  man?  ):  and  he  knows  she  is  not  wholly  she  anymore  but  logic  ,  within  all  manners  of  the  heart  matter  not.  ❝  it  would be  nice  to  speak  with  you  one  last  time  before  i  depart.  ❞  a  pause.  ❝ and  to  be  given  the  chance  to  apologize  to  all  those  souls  we  of  cruxis  committed  countless  atrocities  towards.  ❞

[hoboblaidd]

||TheMentor|| Did your muse have a parental figure other than their parents? Who was their mentor and how did they influence your muse?

archetypes headcanons

Yes, Mythal. But. It's a complicated relationship. On one hand, yes he cared about her and views her as an old friend. But on the other, Solas knows as well as anyone that the Evanuris were the reason the empire actually fell. They were cruel, capricious, and generally monstrous. That Mythal was "the best of them" is a low bar that he isn't unaware of. She may have been better, or somehow reformed to help the People, but she was still worshipped as a god, and there's no evidence to suggest she was a benevolent one.

Solas has a telling exchange with Morrigan on Mythal (very appropriate that it's between the two of them):

Morrigan: In most stories, Mythal rights wrongs while exercising motherly kindness. Others paint her as dark, vengeful. Pray to Mythal, and she would smite your enemies, leaving them in agony. Solas: ...The oldest accounts say Mythal was both of these, and neither. She was the Mother, protective and fierce. That is all I will say. 

So it's a complicated mother-mentor relationship, with all the positives and negatives that come with that. Just add a couple thousand years and the fact that he kind of killed at least part of her to take her power in the epilogue.

[howetragic]

People are - historically speaking - the worst. // from ziggurat

Nathaniel cannot refute that. 

His eyes sweep over the Warden at his side, and his head tilts in a slight nod as he recognizes the truth in the words. 

     “And yet, we persist,” he says slowly. “All of us together, doing good and bad things. I like to think that we’ve made progress, in some ways at least.”

He pauses, and smiles.

     “Historically speaking.”

[high-as-hope]

spirited away sentence starters

from @fatesown:

❛  come on, it'll be fun.  ❜ / from ziphrane!

Elsa tilted her head and hummed thoughtfully, pretending to consider her friend's suggestion. But Ziphrane likey knew she already had her. Elsa was not one to turn down any promise of fun.

"Weeell, I don't know...," she drawled, dragging it out just a little longer before finally smiling at her Dalish friend. "Okay, fine. You've convinced me."

Giddily, she grabbed Ziphrane's hand, tugging her along as if it had been her idea all along.

"Come on! Let's not waste the day~"

[nobroth]

@fatesown liked for a starter!

     “Rough couple of weeks for you,” Alistair says one night while the campfire is crackling between them.

He hasn’t been himself. Distant, mind always on something else. He offers his fellow Grey Warden - the only one left - a brittle smile as he tries to blink away the tears that still burn at the back of his eyes. The night makes it hard to think of little other than Duncan. 

     “Duncan said that you were sick when he found you,” he continues. “And then… Ostagar.”

The word is hard to say, and he closes his eyes a moment when he thinks on it. 

     “How are you feeling? Have you… sometimes there’s nightmares, and–” the words don’t find his tongue, and so he presses his lips together and stares at her instead. 

Not creepy at all.

[theodosiani]

❛ See, this is why no one lets you make the plans. ❜ - from morena for kasaanda

Catching Fire Sentence Meme || Accepting || @fatesown

"I made an excellent plan," Kasaanda has already begun cleaning her blades, careful cloth wiping off any residue before she resheaths them. Once everything is settled back in its proper place she leans down to start examining the body for anything that might lead them to their next target. Little hands pat down pockets and packs, searching like Assan for truffles. When she finds a hidden one containing her prize Kasaanda releases a tiny triumphant giggle. Wiggling the little note towards Morena for them to take, she smiles smug as a cat with the canary, "You had a problem, now the problem is bleeding out on the floor, solved."