#i miss it when companion disapproves with you!! I miss the disparity!!

[the-blue-wraith]

I've waited for Veilguard for almost a decade only to get basic writing and ordinary music and become a protagonist that's too polite and can't be mean. 

I didn't want Veilguard to be exactly like Origins. But in this game I think our choices don't matter anymore unlike the previous games. 🤷🏻‍♀️

[eirian-houpe]

Disparate Pathways - Chapter 49

Read previous chapters on AO3

Chapter 49 - Storm Warning

Gold couldn’t remember the last time he’d hosted a dinner party, let alone had an evening as pleasant as the one he was enjoying with Belle, Miss Lucas and her boyfriend. He had been surprised, and a little cautious and reserved, when Ruby had turned up with the town psychologist, Doctor Hopper as her ‘plus one,’ - a factor that he hadn’t even realized was a part of the invitation. The ice had soon broken though, as much due to his fondness for the friendship Belle obviously had with Miss Lucas, as the undeniably stimulating conversation and good company that Doctor Hopper - Archie, he reminded himself  - had proven to be. He smiled as he returned to the lounge to see that the girls had pulled the cushions from the couch and had made a nest of sorts, as was Belle’s wont to do, and couldn’t help but chuckle as Archie looked up at him with a visual, helpless shrug of acquiescence written in his expression.

“It’s cozy if nothing else,” Gold agreed with the doctor’s unspoken amusement.

“Stop being such a tease,” Belle demanded softy, and patted the cushion at her side. “I was trying to make things less stuffy.”

“Stuffy?” Gold almost yelped in mock offense.

“Yes, stuffy,” Belle said, practically sticking out her tongue. “Sitting on the chairs and the couch, facing each other like something out of Pride and Prejudice.”

Gold did laugh then, and nodded to the nearby ottoman, which Archie dragged into their cushioned circle to serve as a makeshift table for the tray of hot chocolate and cookies Gold had brought from the kitchen.

“A little something to warm us even more?” Gold asked as his laughter faded, then looked pointedly toward the liquor cabinet in the corner of the room.

“I think the fire, and the cocoa will quite suffice,” Belle said, raising an eyebrow Gold’s way.

Chuckling again, he teased, “Now who’s being stuffy?”

Belle protested, but all in a playfully exaggerated way, and Archie piped up, “I wouldn’t mind, actually, Gold. It sounds like a terrific idea.”

“Yes please,” Ruby echoed cheerfully, rolling her eyes as Belle gave her a side eyed look of disapproval.

Shaking his head, but feeling more warmed by the companionable banter than he was the fire, the cocoa and the promise of a splash of alcohol in his hot beverage, Gold crossed the room to the cabinet, to pull out a small bottle of fine brandy. For reasons he wasn’t really prepared to fully admit, the evening called for a little celebration.

“What do you think, Gold?” Hopper’s voice pushed aside his contemplation, and he turned with a quizzical look on his face.

“Hmm?”

“Snow or no snow?”

“I’m sure it’s cold enough,” Ruby added, drawing a nod from Belle as Gold returned to the small party and handed the bottle to Hopper with the invitation to help himself.  He pulled up one of the discarded chairs for him to lean against, and joined them in the space before the fire.  It was a frigid night, and it only promised to get colder.

“Cold enough, perhaps,” he agreed, “but I think too dry. Actually though, Miss Lucas--”

“Oh for the love of— would you call me Ruby already!” she snapped in exasperation, “It’s too late for that kind of Bul--”

“Manners cost nothing, Miss Lucas,” Gold said, with a grin, and leaned over to reach for a cup of cocoa to hand to Belle, and then one for himself, accepting the small bottle of brandy from Archie soon after.

“But—” Ruby’s exasperation, it seemed, would not let her go, however, she was interrupted by Archie’s soft voice.

“Don’t deny the man his perfectly natural affectations,” he said.

“Didn’t we agree you’d leave the psychoanalysis at the office door?” Ruby shot him a look, and Archie held up his hand in defeat, a look of apologetic solidarity on his face as he glanced at Gold.

Gold nodded at the man, then turned his attention to Belle, holding up the brandy bottle. “Are you certain?”

Belle nodded, and with quiet acquiescence, Gold tipped a small amount into his own cocoa, then placed the bottle in the chair behind him.

“As I was about to say,” Gold cleared his throat before he went on, “You are at least partly right, Miss Lucas. Given the lateness of the hour, and the temperature out of doors, I wonder if you and Doctor Hopper would care to—”

This time he was interrupted by his phone, and he frowned, pulling it from his pocket to look on the display for the name or number of the caller.

“Gold?”

He froze, Archie’s soft inquiry lost in a buzz of concern that was starting somewhere in the base of his skull. The number on the display wasn’t Jefferson’s number, and on the phone that he was carrying, it should have been.  It should only be.  Suddenly breathing faster, his heart began speeding to a painful beat in his chest. He got to his feet faster than he probably should have, almost unbalanced, and steadied himself for a moment on the back of the nearby chair, until Hopper, too, stood and came to his side. Gold murmured a soft apology as he did.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I have to take this call.”

Hopped nodded as he moved away, and vaguely heard Archie suggest to the ladies that they might clean up the cushions and straighten up the room.

His mind was spinning.  What if it were Jefferson, calling from another phone out of some urgent need.  It would behoove him to answer just as quickly if it were. He crossed the room toward the hallway, and was turning toward the kitchen as he thumbed the button to connect the call.

“What?” he snapped, blood singing in his ears even as he tried to slow his racing heart. As soon as the caller drew breath, he knew it wasn’t Jefferson.

”That’s hardly a polite greeting, now is it?”

His racing blood slowed to an icy crawl that served to finish slowing the frantic beat of his heart. The world suddenly came into a strange kind focus. Bile born of hatred rose in his throat. The mere sound of her voice, laced as it were, with sarcasm, and layered over years of bitterness pulled a flash of memory from his mind; unwanted. Unwelcome.

“Oh, please…” Her voice was mocking, the tone cruel, and she drew out the words. “Let’s finish this!”

She raised her weapon, clubbing Bae hard enough to drive him to his knees.  The light left his eyes as he caught himself on his hand, and he turned his own, cold stare toward Gold. 

“West,” he snarled into the phone.

"Oh, so you do remember me then,” she said, mocking him with cheerfulness. “You don’t call. You don’t write… So how are things with you - Duneach? Or wait… it’s not that any more, is it? Your nam—”

“What. Do you. want?” he snapped, then matching her in sarcasm, if not in cheer, he added, “And why would you ever think I’d want to fucking hear from you? Unless you’re going to tell me that you’re suffering some kind of incurable disease that’s going to eat at you slowly, because I’d gladly pay to see that.”

“Aww, Gold, I didn’t know you cared,” she sang. “How is that working out for you, by the way?  Small town bigwig… So many friends, I’m sure. ”

“You stay the fuck away from me,” he warned harshly, but she laugh, except no, it was a brittle cackle that traveled down the phone.

“Make me,” she spat.

“Oh, gladly, I can assure you.” He bared his teeth to the phone like a wild dog after prey. His voice was a hiss that seeped into the microphone. “If I so much as catch a hint of you coming anywhere close I will end. You.”

“You don’t have it in you,” she jeered. Not trying to hide her mocking behind sarcasm any more. Verbally spitting in his face. “Not any more. You’re soft… soft and slow.  How is your son, by the way and where on Earth did you hide him away…?

“You—” he began, but what breath he had that wasn’t stolen by her question was taken again by her words.

“Oh yes, I know he survived.  I know he’s still alive... ”

“You dare--!”

“ ...no thanks to you. ”

A part of him wanted to ask her what she meant. No thanks to him how? But his hatred refused to let him give her that power over him.

“Don’t you fucking dare try to blame me for this!” he growled, spittle flying with his temper. He knew it was what she wanted, and he had given her that power he had tried to deny her mere moments ago, but he could no more stop himself than he could have stopped the waves from answering the call of the moon.

“Temper temper,” she laughed. “Whatever happened to the disciplined gentleman I used to know and love?”

“You know nothing about me,” he answered with a laugh half way between derision and hysteria. “You never knew anything about me, and loved…?” He left the rest of that hanging.

“So what’s this,” she demanding, feigning jealousy, “about the sweet young thing I hear you’re dating?” She was taunting him, and he knew it. “Does she know you? I mean, really? Does she know what you were? What you are?”

“I swear on my life, West, you come anywhere near me, or my son, or anyone else I might care about, and whatever rock you crawl under won’t keep me from taking you apart piece by rotten piece and feeding you to the rest of the rabid, neighborhood strays!”

“Promises, promises,” she mocked. “Oh, and by the way, your dear mother sends her love.”

“No,” the word was an inhuman crackled on his lips. “You don’t get to taunt me with that banshee!”

“What makes you think I’m taunting you?” West asked, almost reasonable, but for her smugness. “I’m only stalling, keeping you talking. Milah offered, but we both know you’d hang up on her in a heartbeat.”

Stupid!

The blood that had been pounding in his ears drained from him and he cursed himself for a gullible fool. She was playing him. Had been playing him all along, and he was stupid enough, and blinded by his hate for her, that he’d played right into her hands.

He raced from the kitchen to the basement door, and hardly felt the scrape of skin against the wall, nor cared that he almost fell as he misstepped with his cane. He had to know whether he had been compromised, though he was sure he already knew the answer. It was little enough security as it was.

“Well, I can tell that you’re busy, Gold,” West’s voice held the same, exaggeratedly smug tone, though now he paid it no heed, even when she said, “It’s been good speaking with you though. I’ll see you soon.”

It wasn’t her words that brought the curse to his mouth, that was poised on his lips as she cut the call, but the fact that he found she had indeed kept him talking for long enough for the signal, which had been bouncing around from place to place in an attempt to mask his location was now hovering, steady and exposed… in Storybrooke.

Crushed by self loathing, that he had been so stupid, so careless, he swung at the wall with his fist, ignoring the pain as he connected hard, punching the brick again and again as he punished himself for putting everyone - for placing Belle - in such insurmountable danger.  He continued to swing again and again, relishing the pain, even crying out with it, a stifled cry that left him leaning on the work bench that supported all of the electronic devices which had been neutralized by his hatred, and the weakness it had caused.

Breathing hard, he tried to think. Berating himself again. He didn’t have time for this self-indulgence, not if he were going to keep Belle safe, to keep Grace safe, and he had to… wanted to… needed to prove to himself, as much to Jefferson as to Belle, that he was worthy of… of what?  Their trust?

He needed to make a plan, but to do that he needed to know just how badly he had fucked up, and just how much of a dumpster fire the whole thing was. Tears of anger made his eyes ache and as the immediate rush of adrenaline faded his hand began to throb with the pain of his self harm.

He didn’t have time for that either.  Now, he had to act.

He snatched up his phone again, typing out a hurried text message to MacCalmain, warning him to stay away from Storybrooke… to keep Grace, instead, safe in New York City, where he’d instructed the man to take her, and afterwards, he hit his speed dial and listened, with increasing dread, to the sound of Jefferson’s phone ringing… and ringing… and—

Silence. 

Jefferson, or someone in his place, had declined the call. He tried again to the same effect, and then a third time, this time rewarded with a click, and a cough, and then a voice he barely recognized as belonging to Jefferson rasped out two words that left him colder than even the call he’d shared with West.

Just two words.

“We’re... coming. ”

[inessencedevided]

The Untamed, episode 18 - watching notes

I know I'm slagging a bit. So sorry, life in quarantine is - somehow - busy. I want to watch the untamed all the time, but I just can't right now :/

Last on "Sophie wstches the untamed": Wei Wuxian is a self-sacrificing idiot but what else is new

Wei Wuxian, third young master, just used his cultivation power to catch a chicken

And icon

And now she's his hunting companion. I fully support them :Dh no, one of the wangxian mirror is hurt 🥺

But I'm glad he's back. I've been anxious to find out what will happen to them

Completely random, but I've just realized that apparently "Shifu" (please pardon my spelling) is Chinese for "Master". I knew the word from avatar the last airbender, but never knew that its chinese 🙈 (I realised this because Song Lan is repeatedly calling "Shifu!")

There is just something incredibly disturbing about people crying tears of blood

So wait, Xue Yang blinded him with some kind of poisonous powder?

Ooohhhh! I never realised that this legendary Master of wwx's mother and Xao Xingchen is a woman? (Or I did and forgot again)

(Sorry. The fact that there is such a disparity between the number of male and female significant characters on this show is maybe the only thing that's bothering me right now. I've seen worse on other shows though and the female characters that are there are great, so I'm not that bothered by it.)

Wen Qing is as much of a fangirl of the Baoshen Wanderer as I'd be :D

OMG they're going to look for her!!! Pleasepleaseplease let them find her! 😭

Also, the way wwx's whole face softens at the mention of some link to his parents 😢

Those needles going like 5 centimetres into Jiang Cheng's skull ... *shudders*

Turning serious for a second: I know Jiang Cheng is grieving right now, but even so, the fact that he can only see worth in either his live or his death if he is able to seek revenge is ... depressing. It says a lot about his source of self-worth, as well as how much he depends on some form of outside validation. Poor guy :(

Not done with my feminist bullshit yet: I don't quite know in what way it is significant, but I love the fact that in a setting where power is largely transfered from father to son or from (mostly) male masters to a largely male student body, our protagonist's powerful ancestors and grandmaster where women. His mother was a powerful cultivator, his father the servant. And his mother also learned from a female cultivator who seems to have acquired almost legendary status within this world. I can't help but think that this exemption to the rule is somehow linked to who Wwx is as a character. He's a trickster. He defies customs left and right and even though I don't know how yet, he will somehow go against the other clans in such a major way that his own sworn brother will find it justified to kill him. But he's still the protagonist. We're meant to root for him. I can't help but hope that in a setting so defined by rigid customs and traditions, including a patriarchal structure, this story will promote that those customs shouldn't simply be upheld for their own sake, that when they defy what is morally right, one should break and reform them. (Maybe I'm going too far with my analysis here, but that is both a feminist message and a very anti-authorotarian stance, the second of which is one hell of a statement in modern day china)

Why do I have a feeling that Wei Wuxian is promising too much? It would be way too easy if this worked :/

Jiang Cheng held his chopsticks the wrong way round 😭🥺

Jiang Cheng: "Tastes terrible"

Also Jiang Cheng:

I live for Wen Qing's silent disapproval

Wei Wuxian ...

He's still going to sacrifice his own golden core, right?

And he's not telling Jiang Cheng...

This is going to be one of those shows again where 90% of the conflict could have been avoided if people had just GODDAMN TALKED TO EACH OTHER, isn't it?

Why do I keep doing this to myself?

The way wwx and Shijie are remembering the home they have lost through food is so relatable, it breaks my heart 💔😔

AAaaawwwwww, oh my god!!!!

Little Wei Ying!!!! 😭😭😭

I did not expect this flashback but it makes me so happy!

I mean look at him!!!!

(Sorry for the shitty pic of my laptop screen but LOOK AT HIM! 🥺)

Shijie! 😍

To be fair to little Jiang Cheng, a kid that she wouldn't understand why he suddenly can't have puppies anymore

My heart ... 💚💚💚

Shijie has just always been there for both of them and holding them together. I can't 😭

Also little Jiang Cheng's "I'm sorry"! He just wants to be loved. Then and now :'(

I don't know, I'm just weak for characters that bear their inner child's pain into adulthood ...

Can you not give me wwx / jc brotherhood feels when I know for a fact where this leads??? 😭😭😭

"You me and Cheng, the three of us, we must be together forever and never ..." "never be parted." - *they immediately part ways*

I CAME HERE THINKING I'D GET MY HEART RIPPED OUT BY TWO GAY IDIOTS NOT BY A TRAGICALLY DOOMED FAMILY! THAT'S GODDAMN FALSE ADVERTISING!

sorry

don't lie to them you idiot!!!

We'll see song lan again, won't we? Cause I still don't understand what exactly happened to him and why

Also, I want to know what he originally wanted them to tell Xiao Xingchen 🧐

"None of them cherishes his own life." Wen Qing knows my pain

That was a hard cut to a battle montage ...

LAN WANGJI!!! 😍😍😍 I've missed you so much!

I'm still about confused about wwx's plan here

Not the goal, just the execution

That mountain shot with the bells is awesome!

Okay, I'm not quite sure what's happening here. This person might be the true Baoshen Wanderer. But I don't think so. I think it's more likely she is either Wen Ning or Wei Wuxian in disguise (I'm sure they could also alter their voice) and Wei Wuxian has not given up his plan to exchange his core for Jiang Cheng's

Either way it's just unfair that this is where the episode ends 😅

@sweetlittlevampire @fandom-glazed @elenirlachlagos @allhailthedramallama @luckymoony (hope you guys are doing okay 💚)

[enturmoiled-blog]

i'm real interested in johns relationship with the gang members in rdr1. especially with dutch what do you think?

i think we have to start with john’s relationship with dutch in the epilogue to understand the trajectory it takes on in rdr1.

i always find this entry ironic, because while i don’t doubt the truth of it, it’s representative of a theme wherein john verbalizes as a disdain for dutch that he never quite matches in action. john may momentarily brandish his gun at dutch during the standoff, but his express hostility is reserved for micah, and when the rat is finally dead, john doesn’t seem anywhere close to wanting to kill dutch. instead, he offers his baffled thanks and tries to start a conversation with him, though it’s promptly denied by dutch, who scowls as he passes. john doesn’t return his ire; he just watches him leave. again.

you would think that with as much time john puts into speculating on dutch’s corrupt(ed?) nature ( especially with sadie ), he’d be repulsed by things that remind him of dutch, but he isn’t. john meets evelyn miller in the american inferno, burnt out and bonds with him only because dutch read miller’s books. and while their correspondence is short, john treats miller with a level of respect that i read as partially carried over from john’s relationship with dutch himself, being that miller and dutch are of a similar philosophy for obvious reasons ( the rebuke of wasteful greed, a love of the natural world, “i can’t fight my own nature”, etc ). 

john spends a lot of the epilogue trying to recreate, in a way, the sense of community he felt while in the gang ( e.g. asking charles and sadie to stay with him, working to prove himself to abigail and jack, reminiscing with old gang members like pearson, tilly, & mary-beth ). it then follows that, despite everything, john misses dutch and looks for his presence through vicarious sources ( miller, and arguably ricketts in rdr1 ) because he’s torn between love and hate, or love and hurt.

by rdr1, john is older than what arthur was in rdr2 and is much more grounded and down-to-earth than he’s ever been, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s still harboring a lot of bitterness about what happened between himself and the gang. as established in rdr2, john doesn’t talk about his grief, so he never really heals from it, just pushes onward and lets his temper handle the brunt of the burden.

john doesn’t want to hunt down dutch; he’s being forced to, and he puts up a bigger fight about chasing after his former mentor than he does re: javier or bill. we know john’s still angry about being left behind ( it’s not the first time they’ve seen each other since the train job and certainly not the first time they’ve argued about it, but john nonetheless drudges it up within the couple minutes of his reuniting with dutch ╱ dutch: “of course, of course. i surrender, john. you’re the master now.” / john: “i’ve been my master since you left me to die.” ), but i don’t believe that his anger demands dutch’s blood anymore, if it ever truly did. 

and even if john did want to kill dutch, which i doubt since john gives all three of his former companions non-lethal options, being compelled to do so by the pinkertons ruins the vengeance for him ( john: “my side ain’t chosen. my side was given. i’d kill you a hundred times before i killed dutch, if it was an option.” / john: “when the opportunity presents itself, i’ll put a bullet in him, don’t you worry. won’t like myself for doing it, but i’ll do it.” ).

moreover, over the course of rdr2&1, dutch has had multiple opportunities to kill john personally and doesn’t exploit them, maxim gun sequence aside. just before his last stand, dutch sees john coming for him and, rather than aiming for john’s chest or gut, takes a very careful shot at his binoculars to knock him out. i argue that neither of them actually wants the other dead at this point ( john clearly disapproves of who dutch has become and resents that dutch is still killing innocents, yet he hasn’t the desire to stop him himself ), but neither of them really has a choice. they’re up against forces bigger than themselves and that’s just how it is.

john loves dutch. he says it half a dozen times in rdr2, and being left to die twice by him doesn’t change that — it just complicates it. that being said, john stopped seeing the van der linde gang as his family by chapter 4 ( dutch: “oh, it’s nice to see you happy. […] playing at family, it’s beautiful. […] just remember the gang comes first. […]” / john: “i don’t — i don’t really know what you’re saying.” ╱ javier: “i’m sticking to my family.” / john: “these people ain’t your family. who are they?” ) and was ultimately betrayed by them soon afterward, so, of course he’s willing and eager to prioritize the lives of his wife and child over that of his former comrades.

this is getting really long, so i’ll just touch on javier briefly. of his “brothers”, john is hurt by javier’s betrayal more than anyone else’s given the fact javier had saved his life more than once ( and vice versa ) and that the two of them, presumably, had a tight-knit history ( abraham: “you talk about [javier] fondly.” / john: “it ain’t exactly fondness. we was close once. but he never cared for me or anybody else […]. he left me to die, when he had the chance to save me.” ).

compare this with how john describes bill and there’s a pretty yawning gap between john’s regard for either of them. john’s bitterness towards bill manifests in bill being called a dumb, inbred hick, whereas john’s bitterness towards javier comes in the assumption that javier never had any love for him. huge tonal disparity. obviously we see that javier and john have a better relationship in rdr2 than john and bill do, but the way john’s criticisms in rdr1 undergird those dynamics tells us a lot about how he felt about those respective friendships at the time. 

when/if john kills javier, it’s debated whether or not john wipes a tear from his face before spitting on javier's corpse. regardless if john cries, for someone who claims catching his old brothers-in-arms is just business, the gesture of spitting on someone’s body is far from empty. again, john’s stewed in his anger and hurt for years, and the way it rears its head isn’t exactly pretty but it does show us that there’s often a proportional relationship between john’s sense of betrayal and just how vitriolic he gets. 

alternatively, john doesn’t kill javier at all, and i think that sort of speaks for itself? it’s not a kindness, obviously, because the pinkertons are going to see javier swing themselves, but it’s more than can be said for bill or dutch ( though dutch’s situation is infinitely more complex ). how you play/interpret john notwithstanding, john will always have a deeper history ( and therefore wound ) re: javier than he does re: bill that either helps javier or damns him.

tl;dr john’s angery and sad but he’s not bloodthirsty in rdr1 and if he could Not kill bill/javier/dutch, he wouldn’t, but he can’t, so he’s Gotta

[montpahrnah]

dragon age fic recs (femslash)

FEMSLASH

MORRIGAN/FEMALE WARDEN

for it to break, by mywordsflyup

So here she is, just a little light-headed from her second cup of wine and maybe also from the blow to the head she received by a particularly ugly genlock. That has to be it. She probably has a concussion. What other possible reason could there be for the fact that she cannot keep her eyes off her?

red, by irabelas

She’s sauntering over with questions on her lips and a look in her eyes that makes Morrigan shiver with excitement, like a spell crackling by the fingertips.

in the morning, pale and blue, by mywordsflyup

It’s nice, Morrgian decides. It always is when she’s with Tabris. But moments like this one, just them alone together with no one but the forest to witness it - this is what she cherishes the most.

LELIANA/MORRIGAN

caught along the way, by mywordsflyup

Old habits die hard.

Her Own Shall Bless Her, by sunspeared

Leliana tutors Kieran in the art of larceny. Morrigan tutors Leliana in the art of simple kindness.

An Unlikely Hero, by Arbryna

Deep down, Morrigan has always known that she is little more than a pawn in her mother's schemes. Twisted and pulled every which way, she hardly knows which way is forward--until she finds herself on a path she never could have imagined, with the unlikeliest of companions.

A series of drabbles reimagining Dragon Age: Origins, with Morrigan in the role of the Hero of Ferelden.

A Dream of Red, by ChocoChipBiscuit

Morrigan: dreams, hungers, and Leliana.

The Last Thing on My Mind, by runicmagitek

Of all the events which unfolded at the Winter Palace, none of them compared to seeing a familiar face again for Leliana.

Smother, by hongmunmu

Morrigan always found Leliana too soft.

LELIANA/MARJOLAINE

five times leliana wanted to sing and the one time she couldn’t stop, by popPulchritude

She sang until the Maker came to her in a dream again and told her this was no way to live.

do cats kill songbirds? by alynshir

Someone is curious, and they must have the last word.

ANORA MAC TIR/SER CAUTHRIEN

Draw Your Swords, by faithtastic

After the defeat of the Archdemon, Ser Cauthrien follows through on a promise she made to Loghain.

all my possessions for a moment of time, by bendingwind

the end crowneth the work

Bits and pieces of a life well-lived.

FEMALE HAWKE/ISABELA

A Slash of Blue, by todisturbtheuniverse

Hawke has a small case of hero worship for Isabela: a series of ficlets spanning all three acts.

(It might be a crush. Or a powerful dollop of lust. Nothing more than that, surely.)

A Slash of Red, by todisturbtheuniverse

When Isabela washes ashore in Kirkwall, she expects to stay just long enough to grab the relic and go. There are two things she didn't count on: 1) the damned thing is hard to find, and 2) Hawke.

If I Could Only Get Your Oceanside, by acertainheight

Kinkmeme prompt: "Isabela finally gets her ship, and wants to take off to sea at once, bringing Hawke along with her. But Hawke is firmly against the idea, and after a bit of prodding, Isabela learns that Hawke is terrified of being out on the open ocean. Clearly the solution for this is crazy sex in the captain's quarters out in the harbor. Clearly." ...And so captain's-quarters-sex ensues.

Cartography of a Fist, by mautadite

“I thought I said all hands on deck.”

“Deck? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

(Hawke and Isabela on the Eastern Seas, post game.)

If the Seas Catch Fire, by QueenofEden

In all aspects of her life, Isabela has always detested uncertainty. She prides herself on her ability to be in control, to be one step ahead, to know herself even when nobody else can be assed to. Which is possibly why this whole business with Hawke has her feeling so out of sorts.

Balance Beam, by todisturbtheuniverse

Hawke's responsibilities in Kirkwall leave her too stressed for her own good. Isabela knows exactly how to help.

Close Enough to Start a War, by Arbryna

Hawke and Isabela deal with the fallout of the events at the end of Act II.

Lie Before the Wicked, by synonymouse

If Hawke had gotten to choose which of her companions would find her naked and shackled to a bed, she probably wouldn't have chosen Isabela. Of course, from Isabela's perspective, things could not have worked out better if she had planned them herself.

you are a crowded stranger, by acertainheight

Five stages of grief, and the one moment when all the rest stops mattering. (Or: the one where Isabela runs away for three years and Hawke slowly tries to put herself back together again.)

Practically Married, by appleschnapple

Isabela went missing for three years. Hawke is somewhat less than impressed.

Between Now and Then, by codenamecynic

The things she tells herself aren’t always true. She doesn’t always win. Sometimes it still hurts.

Unfurl, by starstrung

Isabela hasn’t been able to say no to Hawke yet. She should probably be worried about that. But right now, at this moment, she can’t be bothered to give a damn.

ozymandias, by acertainheight

Isabela takes the relic and never looks back; Hawke pours herself into the art of forgetting. Years later, miles from Kirkwall, they walk into the same tavern and both stop running.

A Shadow, Passing Through by todisturbtheuniverse

Hawke and Isabela enjoy a spot of people-watching in the middle of the night. Leandra makes a few assumptions.

Fools Rush In, by beyondthesea

A lot of things change after the Nightmare. After all, the number of people who have physically entered the Fade and lived to tell about it can be counted on one hand, and Hawke can't help but wonder how many times she can expect to cheat almost certain death.

Or, five times Hawke doesn't say "I love you" and one time she does.

Slowing, by cosmotronic

Wisdom doesn't always come with age, but even Isabela knows she has to stop running eventually.

there descends a bridge of light, by acertainheight

Isabela doesn't believe in ghosts, but she's never stopped believing in Hawke.

i would drink a case of you, darling by QueenWithABeeThrone

Hawke, Isabela, and four universes where they kissed.

Careening, by Zither

In her time away from Kirkwall, Isabela wrote Hawke several unsent letters.

(They’re not love letters. Not even a little bit.)

all of her history etched out at her feet, by LucyDiceKirby

Hawke's life is a mess, and Isabela is always running away, but at least she comes back when it matters.

like ripples on a blank shore, by rivaini

Later, when Isabela leaves with the relic, the memory is what pulls her back.

Blue as the Eastern Sea, by codenamecynic

She never meant to fall in love with Hawke, but some ships when launched can never seek the shore.

Playacting, by disparity

Isabela’s got three secrets that can kill you, and only the first two are daggers.

ISABELA/BETHANY

heart skipped a beat and when I caught it you were out of reach, by faithtastic

Bethany crushes on Isabela, disapproval abounds.

While It Lasts, by Stonestrewn

“Why, if it isn’t the littlest Hawke!”

The words beat down hard on you - younger sibling was always meant to be a shared position – but you shake them off along with the rainwater clinging to your hood.

“Isabela,” you say, and she raises her pint in a one-sided toast.

be the ocean where i unravel, by acertainheight

It started small enough. A laugh, a flash of a smile, a joke: Get her a night at the Blooming Rose—on me. But it didn't take very long until Bethany was in over her head. (Or: the one where Isabela takes Bethany to the Blooming Rose, and Bethany blurts out that she'd rather be with Isabela instead.)

Before the Sunrise, by Annwyd

Before leaving for the Deep Roads, Bethany seeks Isabela out. She wants to have a first time even if it's also an only time.

The Passage of Time, by Settiai

Bethany and Isabela, over the years.

Never Let Me Go, by superfluouskeys

Isabela smuggles gifts into the Circle for Bethany to find. These odds and ends quickly become her lifeline.

ISABELA/AVELINE

Another Night, by Stonestrewn

“Cap’n,” Isabela slurs, cheap liquor on her breath and laughter in her voice, “what a tall, brutish surprise. Come here often?”

“Not unless I get reports of a pantsless pirate going on wild rampages in my city.”

The Sea Takes All Who Drown, by rabbitprint

A lifetime of being self-conscious isn't easy to overcome, particularly when Aveline expects nothing but mockery.

That May Not Be Denied, by hawkwing_lb

Aveline looks the other way for Isabela, and tells herself it's the lesser of two evils.

Open Doors, by ChocoChipBiscuit

Five times Isabela bothers Aveline at the arse-end of midnight and one time Aveline returns the favor.

Make This Easy, by ziskandra

Aveline and Isabela reunite after the events of Inquisition and find themselves with some unfinished business.

ISABELA/MERRILL

The deserving kind, by Stonestrewn

“Something… Something feels wrong.” Merrill says. Her eyes dart from one end of the room to the other

“We’ve been trapped in a cave full of demons. If anything about it felt right, I’d be worried.”

(Merrill's hand in hers - it's a gamble, but Isabela's willing to take the chance.)

Anchor, by sunspeared

"I'm a nice blood mage, you see," she said. "Never a templar at my doorstep. I've only killed twenty people all this week, but they were slavers, and I was with Hawke, which everyone knows means it doesn't count--"

Merrill meets Sebastian. Sebastian meets Merrill. Isabela keeps the peace, and reaps the rewards.

Blood and salt, by Kit

Hawke makes choices all the time. Surrendering Isabela to the Arishok was a choice. Handing Fenris to Denarius was a choice.

Merrill makes a choice to get them back.

dance the warrior, by la_dissonance

Isabela has the strangest sensation, as if several layers of her skin have been stripped off. "We should go to my room," she says.

Merrill grins like the sun coming out on a cloudy day.

"To talk," Isabela clarifies.

this love came back to me, by psikeval

A reunion, in the midst of all the war.

FEMALE HAWKE/MERRILL

Pawn Becomes King, by rabbitprint

Making a pact with one demon does not provide immunity to others. In Merrill's case, the offers have only increased.

Never Again Walk Among the People, by Vongchild

There are some benefits to be found in exile, if you know where to look.

JOSEPHINE/CASSANDRA

the voice of your eyes, by madamebadger

Josephine smiles, and Cassandra smiles back with a reflexive happiness that sends warmth spiraling up from Josephine's belly to her heart. The thing it has taken her a long time to learn about Cassandra is that quite often her impatience and sarcasm are a thin layer, fragile as the skin of ice over a lake--and the emotions they conceal are as drowningly deep as that lake.

The Scent of Honeysuckle, by sqbr

Josephine thinks she's going to marry a Pentaghast. Things don't quite go according to plan.

Composition of Maps, by sunspeared

This is Ambassador Josephine Montilyet. She is the very last person in Thedas who needs someone to talk to. That is the entire point of her, so far as Cassandra can tell: to talk.

Writing love all over, by Stonestrewn

Cassandra takes the book as it is returned to her. She will not ask Josephine what she thought. She will tell her she is welcome, she will put this thing away, they will take their goodbyes and she will not instigate more of this nonsense.

“What did you think?”

Maker preserve Cassandra Pentaghast from herself.

(Sometimes she looks at Josephine and everything else in the world falls away around her.)

while spring is in the world, by madamebadger

The realization comes over Josephine with the slow warmth of the sun slipping across the room on a golden afternoon: she would like to kiss Cassandra.

In the Ink of Her Eyes, by paperiuni

Cassandra does not make herself clear, but Josephine has an excellent eye for details.

Sta(i)rs, by skybone

Time, and changes.

Faded from the Winter, by paperiuni

When Josephine arranges a Wintersend celebration, Cassandra grudgingly agrees to represent the Inquisition. All does not go smoothly.

catulllus two, by Hinterlands

"This is not without precedent," Cassandra says, woodenly, and leans in to kiss her firmly, and fully, upon the mouth.

(In which Cassandra pines, Skyhold revels, and Josephine is caught off guard.)

CASSANDRA/VIVIENNE

Heart of the Matter, by hibernate

There is a scar on Vivienne's leg. Cassandra develops a curiosity.

brave vessel, by klickitats

After the destruction of Haven, the Inquisition weathers a blizzard only to come apart at the seams. The Herald is missing, Josephine starts having visions, and Cassandra and Vivienne, separated from the others by the avalanche, must survive a journey through the Frostbacks alone.

LELIANA/CASSANDRA

near/north, by riverbanks

They’ve been dancing around each other for so long that Cassandra doesn’t know if they’d even know how to properly face one another now.

the tune without words, by madamebadger

They are a matched pair, meant to be apart, fated to be together. Where there is hope, there might be comfort.

JOSEPHINE/VIVIENNE

to be seen, feeling, by Stonestrewn

Two sensible women. A single insensible moment.

Favor, by hibernate

After the events of Trespasser, Vivienne and Josephine have an enlightening conversation.

LELIANA/JOSEPHINE

the first thread of red, by Stonestrewn

At midnight Leliana puts her lips to Josephine’s ear and whispers: “Let’s get out of here.”

Courante, by psikeval

Partners briefly advance, then retreat, and repeat these steps throughout.

Impasse, by Stonestrewn

If Josephine closes her eyes it’s as though she was back there. The walls aren’t the stern Skyhold granite but the white and gold of the Antivan ambassadorial villa. The world isn’t ending. She doesn’t know the stench of burning flesh. Leliana laughs often.

counting, by klickitats

Leliana and Josephine meet for the first time, despite Leliana's best efforts to the contrary.

Charmed, by CandidCantrix

For the kink meme prompt: "Josephine who is secretly a mage, and is just really really good at hiding it."

shine through and make it bright, by Stonestrewn

“Yvette told me nothing... Except that there were things she wasn’t allowed to tell. On the strictest orders.”

“Oh, goodness.”

“She let slip something about the two of you climbing?”

Josephine sighs. “I assume we’re here now because you want me to-”

“Tell me.”

MISC

One Step Closer, by mechanicalclock (Female Warden/Anora Mac Tir)

There was once a brave girl who had lost her parents to the war and betrayal, but then she became a hero, assembled a team of misfits, killed the monster, saved the land, and fell in love with the queen.

There was once a queen who fell in love with a hero and was afraid this love would undermine everything she'd ever worked for.

In which Anora Mac Tir learns how to love and how to be loved.

Of Dwarves and Deepstalkers, by alliterate (Lace Harding/Dalish)

Four strange things Scout Harding has seen in her travels, and one she saw right in the Inquisition's own backyard.

Memory of Distant Shores, by lea_hazel (Morrigan/Merrill)

One of the things that distinguished Darktown is that it made it very easy to spot outsiders. [...] The woman beside her was unmistakably a stranger.

Future Flowers, by Stonestrewn (Dalish/Skinner)

“Winter Palace,” Skinner says with lips curled like someone just took a shit in her mouth. “Fuck this place.”

“Yes,” Dalish replies. “Yes, let’s.”

Bloodied Knuckles, by Settiai (Female Hawke/Aveline)

If it had been any other day, nothing would have come out of it.

Lessons in Dancing, and Other Dangerous Maneuvers, by bendingwind (Lace Harding/Josephine)

It starts, as many things do, because Leliana is bored and really quite meddlesome.

Knots, by todisturbtheuniverse (Female Hawke/Isabela/Merrill)

After leaving Kirkwall, Hawke and Isabela discover that there's more than enough room for one more.

An Introduction to the Flora of the Surface, by vulpineRaconteur (Sigrun/Velanna)

When Velanna discovers a gap in Sigrun's education, she makes pains to fill it.