#i just really need someone i can daydream about that isn't val

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

ok so maybe I'm a lil more affected by the announcement than I thought

[savingsallow]

CHARACTER ASKS WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! #14 for Val and #20 for Ale, pretty please? :)

YOOOOO CORINNE HELLOOOO :D

— thank you for the ask 🤭❤️‍🔥

(14) Do you have any quotes tied to the character, either from the story itself or from another source that fits them?

I have found a few quotes from Pinterest that screams Val and here they are:

This kid of mine used to be a people-pleaser. However, she eventually got tired of being one and decided to be unapologetically herself. Naturally, it wasn't an overnight thing, but to sum it up, that's what practically happened 🤫

Most of the time, Val treats people how she wants to be treated; not that she expects it, but it's something she'd be thankful for if the energy of the exchange is reciprocated.

(20) Bonus question: share any additional thoughts, art, favourite scenes, anything you've been waiting for a chance to ramble about.

Hehe, did someone say 'ramble'? 👀

Will gladly do so! 😁✨

Well, I've been wanting to share more of canon Ale since I realized he has more AU contents than canon 🤣 As much I as enjoy the meddling pathetic lover boy that he is in AUs but Ale might sulk that I'm not defending him 🤣🫂

So here we go:

Fun fact! I actually have a more detailed lore for Ale than for Val. But for some reason, I haven't shared much of his lore yet XD

Let's talk about Ale regarding romantic love.

Ale is definitely romantic. He knows all the words to say, the gestures to do, and how to make his partner feel like they're literally the best. He's the human form of the word 'romantic' if I'm being dramatic.

Ever since his first year in Hogwarts, the ladies really fancies him (even the lads aren't safe from his charm). His energy naturally draws people towards him.

If I had to describe Ale in 5 words it would be: charming, classy, suave, playful, and gentleman. From those words itself, you can already tell why the ladies like him so much XD

To add on, he is a huge flirt. He can literally flirt his way out of almost anything. Despite that, Ale usually just flirts for fun or just because it comes so naturally to him that he forgets he comes off as flirting.

But underneath that flirty exterior is just a boy wishing to have a real connection with someone someday. It's safe to say that he daydreams about finding the one and even makes poems about it sometimes.

The funny thing is that once he meets his 'the one', suddenly he turns into a clumsy and stuttering mess. Meeting Val during his fifth year is something he isn't prepared for at all.

For instance, there's this narrative he keeps telling himself that there's no way he's gonna meet the love of his life in school since he already met everyone (boy is sociable af it's not even funny 🤣). Sure, he had like a few crushes back then but he knows that there's nothing really more to it than admiration. But meeting Val, that really caught him off guard.

Luckily, they eventually became best friends since they have a lot in common in their core values and their traits are complementary so it's fun and enriching.

There was actually a point in their 6th year when he got so sure that he and Val actually had a chance (he wasn't wrong tho 🤫). But teenage love is messy, so some things happened that were out of his control and out of his perspective as well that changed the course.

Now here's the fun part 😈

Then in the 7th year, here's when Valreth became a thing.

On the contrary to the AUs (which I love btw 🤭), Ale never meddled in Val's relationship with Garreth. WOW surprising 🤣 but yes, he never did.

He supported them because in his defense, "if she's happy and safe, then that's all I need to know."

Although, he actually dislikes Garreth even before meeting Val. But I'll try not to drop spoilers too much 🤫 (it's just an academic-related thing 🤣).

For that whole year, Ale focused more on his studies and spent an unholy amount of time on his poems instead. As much as he's content with the friendship he has with Val, he decides to just listen to his heart shatter into pieces in silence and with nature.

I'll leave a few quotes I have found on Pinterest as well to give a hint of what his poems sounded like while being heartbroken:

He's very cheesy, yes.

That's all for my Ale's Ted Talk for today!

Thank you for attending (I mean reading)! 🫂❤️‍🔥

—

I hope you enjoyed reading this! ❤️‍🔥

[todisturbtheuniverse]

FIC: Set All Trappings Aside [1/8]

Rating: T Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Pairing: f!Adaar/Josephine Montilyet Tags: Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Class Differences Word Count: 1900 (this chapter) Summary: After months of flirtation, a contract on Josephine's life brings Adaar's feelings for her closer to the surface than ever. It highlights, too, all of their differences, all of the reasons a relationship between them would not last. But Adaar is a hopeful woman at heart; if Josephine can set all trappings aside, then so can she. Also on AO3. Notes: While the context for this story is the Of Somewhat Fallen Fortune questline, some of the conversations within it didn't quite fit for this Inquisitor. The resulting fic is a twist on the canon romance. This Adaar and Josephine have featured in other fics, so you may miss a little context if you haven't read Promising or Truth-Telling, which both come before this one.

On any other day, Josephine would have enjoyed this: a beautiful, cloudless afternoon in Val Royeaux; the scent of delicate, baking pastries floating on a soft breeze; Adaar standing close at her side, close enough that clothes and arms brushed. That last, especially.

But today, there was no room between them for unspoken fantasies, sparks of electricity, daydreams. Adaar's tension simmered in her taut arm, fingers twitching as if to seize her belt knife at the slightest provocation—or maybe ready to pull loose her daggers instead. Her dark eyes flicked to every passing face. She stood so close not for any courtly reason, but because she clearly expected an assassin to materialize out of the nearest rosebush and make an attempt right there in the street, while the passersby tittered and gasped.

It was Orlais. They probably would titter at such an event.

But she knew that she would not have received such a cordial warning only to be targeted fifteen minutes later. That would be unprofessional, and the House of Repose was anything but.

"Inquisitor," she murmured. "Please do not be so alarmed."

Adaar spared a glance down at her. "Alarmed is an understatement."

"I am safe enough here," she reasoned, though despite the cloudless sky, despite a bard's voice twining sweetly through the air, despite the scent of flowers in the garden just behind them—all so familiar, Val Royeaux as she'd known it for so long—she did feel a chill. "And there is a way to undo this."

Adaar glanced around again, gave a grumble of frustration, and took Josephine's arm, tugging her into an alcove out of the sun. She did this very gently, her fingers leaving only the slightest impression in the crook of Josephine's elbow.

"Yes, there is," she said, lowering her voice. She glanced over Josephine's shoulder once—looking for threats from the only direction that remained—and then refocused on Josephine's face, her gaze heated. "Point me at the House of Repose, and I will eliminate them."

There was no humor in her voice; there was no anger, not even veiled; but the chill in Josephine's blood deepened, biting like the wind that always snuck through Skyhold's wounds. 

She hadn't forgotten what Adaar was capable of. No, there was evidence enough—history enough—of that. It was just that this coldness, this ferocity, was something new, different. In Josephine's company, she was gregarious, smiling, cheerful, never without a joke or three; the visible daggers and hidden knives seemed like a mistake, lethal weapons accidentally hung on a gentle, sweet woman. Even with blades in her hands, in the practice yard, she joked and ribbed and laughed. Every round seemed like a game to her, punctuated with a grin.

But for ten years, Adaar had been a mercenary. Josephine imagined that plenty of clients had pointed her at a target before, to great success. The Inquisition had pointed her at such targets. But she had never worn this face, still and calculating, so out of place on her features.

"This is a personal matter," Josephine said. "I could not use Inquisition resources to—"

Adaar let loose a stream of curses under her breath, composure dissolving; they were heated enough that the surrounding passersby gave her frightened little glances before scurrying on their way. But it was better than that awful look that had so briefly settled on her face.

"I'll take the Valo-Kas with me." There was passion in her voice now. "It won't be an Inquisition operation. This is no longer your Great Game, Josephine. This is your life. I won't wait while they—"

At a loss for anything else to do—she had never seen steady, implacable Adaar so rattled before—Josephine reached out to take her hand. Adaar's palm was thickly calloused; the little ridges caused by Josephine's laboring with pens seemed minute by comparison. Adaar stopped, mid-sentence, and looked down at her as if startled.

She didn't pull away, though.

"I know the House of Repose," Josephine said, holding Adaar's gaze. "I have a little time. I can take care of this without bloodshed—surely they are amiable to that, if they brought us here, to give me warning—"

"They're an assassin's league," Adaar protested, but she looked more bewildered than angry now.

"You don't understand. It's business; this is only what they're paid to do."

"I don't understand?" Josephine had never seen this look on Adaar's face before, either: not just confused, but hurt, her mouth twisting with it. "I've been a mercenary, Lady Montilyet. Fancy contracts or not, I know how this business works." 

Adaar pulled her hand away and took a step back, and Josephine silently cursed her own clumsiness. She was rattled, after all, to misstep so badly. She knew—not from being told, of course, just from months of observation—that Adaar was sensitive about her own low-born roots. Not ashamed, never, but she'd been thrust into what passed as a noble's role with no experience, and Josephine had worked so hard to show her that it was all easy enough to understand, to navigate...only to take all that back with three little words.

It was just that her head was still swimming with the outrage of it, the—the injustice of it. A contract a century old stood between her and something she'd worked her whole life to obtain? A contract she'd never known about? No one had warned her that such a thing could be possible, that she could come this far in righting her family's status only to be turned away at the eleventh hour.

"Please—Inquisitor." The right title, now, not her name, to show her the respect she deserved, but Adaar didn't react the way a dignitary would; she bore it more like a burden than a privilege, and her frown deepened. Josephine had to work to make her voice level again, but she succeeded, hands clasped before her to hide any trembling. "That was poorly said. I apologize."

Adaar merely watched her, no emotion discernible in her eyes, and didn't reply. 

Josephine's heart twisted in her chest. They'd never argued. In jest, maybe, or professionally, when they disagreed on war table matters, but not like this. She hated it, but she had to make Adaar understand. If there was a path before them that offered no bloodshed, only a little time, then she had to take it.

She took a steadying breath. "I only meant that they've extended me a courtesy, based on...extenuating circumstances...and, if my interpretation of that is correct, I have a little time to negotiate this before it gets out of hand. It's not a typical situation. The usual rules don't apply."

"And if it isn't?"

Josephine blinked. "If it isn't…?"

"If your interpretation is wrong."

For a long moment, they looked at one another, and Josephine wished that Adaar would not stand so far away; she wished that she had not brought this trouble to Adaar at all. But she'd had precious few alternatives.

"If my interpretation is wrong," she said, "then I suppose we must do things your way."

Adaar's face softened minutely, maybe hearing Josephine's reluctance. She closed the gap between them and placed her hands on Josephine's shoulders. 

This was a dire situation. Lives were at stake—not just her life. Her poor messengers. Her heart ached for them, guilt and grief tangled up. But when Adaar looked at her like that, she...didn't forget, exactly. But the pain eased. When Adaar touched her, capable hands molding to her shoulders like they alone could protect her, her heart beat with something that was neither guilt nor grief.

"We will do things the way you like, until the House of Repose sends someone to kill another of your messengers, or you," Adaar said. "I'm going to assign guards to you; Leliana and Cullen can decide which of their people are best-suited."

"Really, I think that is unnecessary." It was a weak protest.

Adaar ignored this. "As soon as there is another attempt, you are out of time. Understood?"

Adaar didn't pull rank very often. She preferred to wheedle and convince everyone around the war table to do as she liked by getting them to see her side, not just by demanding it.

"You can't eliminate an entire assassin's league," Josephine told her quietly.

"I'm sure Leliana has some ideas." Adaar held up a hand when Josephine opened her mouth to argue. "No, I don't plan to kill them all. Something more creative would be required. I'll have to think." She eyed Josephine, one eyebrow raised. "I want a plan in place. In case."

"I suppose that is a fair compromise," Josephine allowed.

Adaar fixed her with a serious stare. "For the tongue-lashing Leliana is going to give me, I could ask for a lot more. She will not like leaving this untended."

"It is my decision. Leliana will understand that." Reluctantly, she thought, but didn't say.

Adaar grimaced. "I didn't say she was going to give you a tongue-lashing."

Josephine managed a weak smile. "Oh, she will. She just doesn't scare me as much as she scares you."

Adaar snorted, reaching up to pull the length of her braid over her shoulder. "She doesn't scare me. This, though? This scares me. The Inquisition needs you. I can't seriously look at a direct threat to one of my advisors and do nothing."

"I don't plan to do nothing," Josephine declared, bristling. "And I'm certain I will need your help, so you will not be doing nothing, either. But these are dangerous times, Inquisitor. Whether it's the House of Repose or a wandering demon, we are all in danger. There are other ambassadors."

Adaar's dark eyes blazed. "Forget your post. Forget the fucking Inquisition. You're my friend first and my ambassador second, and I'm allowed to fret for your life."

It shouldn't have warmed her the way it did, but she felt herself begin to smile, anyway, a flush rising to her cheeks to replace the chill. She'd have been hard-pressed to stop it. 

Maybe she remained unconvinced that Adaar felt any romantic affection for her, no matter how Leliana teased. A bit of harmless flirting sometimes, nothing more. 

But there was affection. The warmth of it felt as magical as any cloudless day in Val Royeaux. 

"Then by all means," Josephine said. "Fret away. But I am sure that I am safe, so long as I'm with you."

Adaar's eyes searched her face. If Josephine wasn't mistaken, her cheeks had darkened a little, too.

"I will make sure of it," Adaar said—low, ardent, a promise. It did terrible, wonderful things to Josephine's stomach.

Adaar cleared her throat and looked up, glancing carefully around the courtyard. Apparently satisfied with her findings, she removed her hands from Josephine's shoulders. Josephine missed the warmth of them, the steadying weight of them, immediately.

"Time to get back to Skyhold," Adaar said. "We can discuss the details of your plan on the way. Stick close."

As if she had to ask. Josephine walked at Adaar's side, arms occasionally brushing, and wished she could stick much closer than that.

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