#in front of so so many templars!

[dalishious]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard – Release Date Trailer Analysis

I’ve finally put my thoughts down into a (mostly) coherent form! Let’s talk about that trailer, of which there is a LOT to talk about…

The Black City?

We know from Game Informer that Solas's ritual was attempting to bind the Evanuris to a new prison, because the one he had previously constructed was failing. However, because of Rook's intervening, Solas is now trapped in the Fade, and Rook's blood is now connected to the Fade. If Solas is trapped in the Fade, perhaps it is the prison he built in which he is contained to.

Now, many people believe that the Black City – previously the Golden City – is this prison. I’m personally resistant to this, simply because this theory stems from fans drawing connections between lore about the Maker and lore about the Creators, which leaves a bad taste in my mouth. (Because of the differences in how those beliefs have been treated in the franchise’s writing. The beliefs of in-universe settlers is constantly given the benefit of the doubt, while the beliefs of in-universe Indigneous-coded people are debunked.) However, unfortunately it is looking more and more like this really might be the case. And I’m in an upset stage about this right now, but I’ll try my best to remain hopeful that The Veilguard will steer things in a direction that’s more comfortable?

The Horror of Hormak?

I believe we are going to see a lot of references to Tevinter Nights in this game. This is just the first to appear in the trailer, by my guess. It looks like the elf is being absorbed into this fleshy mound, which is exactly what happened to Jovis in “The Horror of Hormak”. You can see other body parts sticking out of the mound, including one that looks like a darkspawn body. The flesh sacks themselves are reminiscent of signs of the Blight in Dragon Age: Origins, and we know that of the escaped Evanuris, Ghilan’nain is one of them. Ghilan’nain, who is Blighted. Ghilan’nain, whose temple in “The Horror of Hormak” had such magic capabilities of creating monsters from different beings, molding them together.

The Archon’s Palace?

It looks like this floating structure could be the Archon’s palace, based on this description from “Half Up Front” in Tevinter Nights:

“The Archon’s palace filled the Minrathous skyline. Dominated it—it was visible from pretty much anywhere. When you first came to the city, you spent a few weeks admiring it, in awe of it. Eventually, you got used to it, and it became part of the background, like the sun or the clouds.”

So, that means we’re looking at Minrathous. Unless there are other cities with other magic floating structures, which I suppose we can’t rule out. It is Tevinter, after all.

Lyrium Infect Darkspawn?

These darkspawn look like they’ve definitely been infected with red lyrium, given the small ones here resemble the Red Templar shrieks from Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Lace Harding’s Magic?

So, we know from the official website that Lace Harding has discovered she has mysterious magic abilities. In this trailer, we see her turn monsters into stone, and raise a stone wall from the ground… if you recall, this second thing is something that the Sha-Brytol earth shakers could do in Dragon Age: Inquisition’s DLC, The Descent. The Sha-Brytol used lyrium to accomplish this, and when Lace uses her magic, her wounds glow blue… like lyrium, perhaps?

Morrigan & Mythal?

Morrigan appears to be wearing the headdress that Flemeth previously had, from Dragon Age II onwards. In the epilogue of Dragon Age: Inquisition, before Flemeth was killed (?) by Solas, she was doing something with an eluvian. Morrigan always assumed that Flemeth intended to possess her, but it’s entirely plausible that really, Flemeth was going to give her a piece of Mythal. After all, Flemeth says to Morrigan that she was never in danger, because she had to be willing. So, needless to say, I think Morrigan now has Flemeth’s piece of Mythal within her.

The real question is, how the fuck does Morrigan still look like she’s in her 20’s? Shapeshifting, or simply developer refusal to let a woman show age? //eyeroll

Teia & Viago?

I am HOPING. I am PRAYING. That my beloveds from the Tevinter Nights story “Eight Little Talons” play at least a somewhat significant role in the game, because I adore them so much. And it really does look like this might be them!

Magister Zara?

At the end of the Tevinter Nights story “The Wigmaker Job”, there is a brief epilogue featuring a Magister by the name of Zara Renata. She is obsessed with maintaining a perfect appearance, and uses blood magic sourced from her slaves to remove and perceived flaws on her body. It is said that she will is on his target list, but Zara is convinced they can take care of him.

“Freeing Ambrose’s slaves already tells us this Crow has a heart. He will reveal other flaws. And we will exploit every last one of them.”

 My assumption is that this is Zara that Lucanis is fighting.

The Dread Wolf?

In the Tevinter Nights story, “Dread Wolf Take You,” we are told that Solas has a Dread Wolf form. It appears in the Fade as a fiery wolf with wings. While this wolf is not on fire and does not have wings, it does have three eyes on each side, which is the same amount of eyes on Solas’s ending tarot card in Dragon Age: Inquisition. (Also, the same number of eyes as a Pride Demon…)

Irelin?

Irelin first appears in the Tevinter Nights story, “Three Trees to Midnight”. She is a Dalish mage, part of Strife’s clan. In the comic “The Missing”, she is depicted to look strikingly similar to this elf. It could be coincidence, or it could be she’ll play a role in the Veilguard’s plot.

The Dragons in the Dragon Age?

So, I’m still pondering this one… but I think there may be some significance to here being seven dragons shown in the trailer. There are, after all, seven Evanuris, and maybe the connection rests there. Or maybe it’s linked to there being seven Old Gods of Tevinter. Or maybe it’s all connected.

[anli-rambles]

Idk if the writers intended it or not but the amount of cognitive dissonance between what Haytham says and what he does is so telling of the kind of person he was raised to be. Birch succeeded in making him talk like a Templar, but his actions contradict pretty much everything Haytham claims to stand for. It's as if the brainwashing ran deep enough to make Haytham lack self-awareness but not enough to completely destroy what Edward was able to teach him before he died. Connor points it out verbatim right before they meet up with Washington too. "You've talked a great deal but you've shown me nothing."

Haytham says he wants order but he's just about as chaotic as his father was when he was younger. He says Connor's talks of "freedom" and "free will" are nonsense but literally every time we see him aside from the opening sequences, he's going off on his own, doing God-knows-what without telling any of the other Templars, he drops everything on the spot to go camping with his girlfriend, hell he even murdered a Templar Grandmaster for personal revenge (when revenge has been the driving force between many of the protagonists we've had so far like Ezio, Connor, Arno, Bayek, heck even Kassandra to some degree, while the Templars claim to be above this kind of stuff). He went against Lee's plans to have Connor executed because he felt like it. (The line in his journal is literally "I won't let my son die today.") He says he wants purpose and direction and yet never has a plan for whatever he's doing. He's exactly like Edward on that front, essentially bullshitting his way through everything and hoping it all works out (and it often doesn't). That man has never had purpose or direction in his entire life, and the moment someone tries to tell him what to do, he actively chooses to do the opposite because he doesn't follow orders (and if he does, it's on his own terms).

When Haytham realized he didn't hold the key to the Precursor site, he chose to drop it altogether, because he knew too many would have to die for the cause and it wasn't worth it. Do you mean to tell me people like Vidic, the Borgias, Germain, heck even Torres (who's by far the most reasonable Grandmaster we've encountered in the series besides François de la Serre, maybe) went to impossible lengths to get to the Observatory — do you think any of these men would've just... stopped ? Because more people would have to die ? (The answer is no. William Johnson was willing to commit mass murder just to buy the land the site was on — which by the way Haytham had no idea about (the mass murder part, I mean) until after the fact and he was very angry about it.)

Which is also pretty telling about how involved he is in all of this. He didn't know about what Johnson was planning because he couldn't even be bothered to hold yearly meetings for like 15 years.

In his journal, you can see how he progressively starts to despise every Templar he's working with. He endorses Lee out loud but his thoughts about the guy are that he's "too British to be a good representative for the American people" and he's actually pretty pessimistic about his chances to supplant Washington. He doesn't even believe in what he says about Lee, like, ever (which is why I say it really looks like he's endorsing Lee as an act of sabotage because it really feels like it sometimes.) His Templar kill count is also higher than Connor's — Juan Vedomir, the unnamed mercenary with a West Country accent, Edward Braddock, John Harrison, Reginald Birch, Benjamin Church and Nicholas Biddle (although the game never showed it, the fact that Church and Biddle died only days apart while both in the Caribbean means that Haytham was with Connor on the Aquila when he killed Biddle, so he's at least complicit in his murder.)

Haytham says he's a man with Templar ideals and an Assassin background but to me it feels like the opposite. He's a man with a Templar background and Assassin ideals, but the grooming started so young that even killing Birch couldn't undo the damage that man had done. I think Haytham realized that by the end and that's why he let Connor kill him.

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

ok sorry i'm just. ????

rant and spoilers ahead because i gotta yell into the void a little

first of and most of all. WHY does it sound like Solas front and center of everthing now??? Including both Inky's and Rook's stories/motivations???? Like okay i understand that Solas will inevitably be important in Rook's story and that's chill! We knew he was gonna play a part in this story! But why do they make it sound like half or Rook's purpose is just there to further Solas's story/character

and it quickly becomes clear that Rook will have their own unique relationship with Solas, as the Inquisitor did before them. I think what's been fun for us, too, is trying to build Rook as kind of almost a mirror of Solas.

Epler also acknowledges that the Inquisitor “obviously has a very personal relationship with Solas,” one that will need to be reckoned with in The Veilguard.

“And I'd say the Inquisitor, to some degree, feels guilty or responsible for what Solas is doing to the world. So while we're not going to get too far into details about what role they may play, they absolutely are somebody who is going to be interested and invested in the outcome of Rook's journey in The Veilguard.”

Why. are you telling us how our Inquisitor is supposed to feel about this?? When you play DAI you agree to play The Inquisitor, yes, but you don't agree to play someone who Cares About Solas. Like. Yes. I get that he is important. That much has been clear since Trespasser. And i'm ok with that! But how come you say "this is a game about Thedas and a world in conflict" and then also talk like this story is About Solas, Actually.

The other thing i absolutely do not get and do not like. At All

Those decisions are: who your Inquisitor romanced (with the options gender- and lineage-locked in the same way that they were in Inquisition), whether or not you disbanded the Inquisition, and whether you vowed to stop Solas or save him.

?????

No "who drank from the WoS"? No "who is Divine"? No "does OGB Kieran exist"? No "is Hawke alive" (Varric is there. SURELY he cares about this a lot)? No "what happened to the Mages & Templars"? No "were Wardens banned from the south"? Arent't those uh. Really Relevant Decisions???? WHY is one of the whole grand three (3) decisions that carry over if Inky wants to save Solas or not. I mean ok i guess i get it cus that was The Big Decision TM at the end of Trespasser but again. Why is that the big thing that matters. out of all the things that SHOULD matter.

There's not as many decisions you have made up to this point that have an impact on what's happening in Northern Thedas.

But it’s also part of the advantage of moving the setting up to Northern Thedas, Epler says, with the prior games in the series taking place in Southern Thedas, a significantly different region both geographically and sociopolitically.

Uh. Yeah they do. See above points and also some that i forgot probably. Northern and Southern Thedas don't operate independently from one another that's not how this works. Especially again with things like the WoS or the Divine decision. Also half our companions from the other games are from the north?? I get what you mean kinda and it's true to an extent but not like this. I understand wanting to do a soft reboot but the explanation is. Kind of shoddy

for one, the team focused on choices that they felt they could react to meaningfully – not just a cameo or one-liner.

“There's never a sense of, ‘Oh, that decision doesn't exist.’ But maybe we don't touch on it in this particular title,”

The. Cameos and one-liners are what make it special though?? You can't say "We want those stories to be personal." and then say you're not making any of those small decisions matter. And i don't mean matter as in having A Big Impact TM but i know that a lot of us LIVE for those small tiny nods to previous decisions that make the world feel actually alive and connected. I understand that we can't have full on-screen cameos or questlines or whatever for every little tidbit but not even. idk. Background convos about what's going on in Orzammar? Gossip about Ferelden's monarch? A line from Varric about Bartrand? Dunno man. Again not to mention the Big Things like Kieran. or the Well of Sorrows consequences. Or the Divine (which. yknow. is directly relevant everywhere except maybe Tevinter??). Those were always the things that made importing a worldstate so charming! because you could see the small little impacts that you have on the world. The tiny things like the line about the pigeons in Ferelden in DA2 or a wartable mission with Wade and Herren in DAI are so so special to me

[teecupangel]

So I had the thought of Desmond becoming a MLP: fim changeling queen. Why a changeling? You may ask, because they are very cool.

If you don't know changelings are these horse-like bugs that can shape shift into pretty much anything even inanimate objects (or many that one is an illusion). They use this ability to collect love from other creatures since that's their main source of energy, seems like they need to eat normal stuff but in smaller quantities.

But for the sake of this Au let's say they can feed on the other emotions as well but the closer to love the emotion (example: happiness) the more energy they get. With love giving out the most energy.

So Desmond wakes up at Solomon's temple and sees he is some kind horse-bug and cause he is a queen changeling he is really big. Like draft horse big, even bigger than the Clydesdale. But still thin and spindly cause you know, bug. He wouldn't be like Chrysalis starved hive but also he wouldn't be rainbow colored like Thorax's. I see Desmond being desert colored for camouflage (dark red, brown, pale, black, sand) while having some white and red mixed in for the colours of the brotherhood.

Desmond curses his luck and wanders around trying to get used to his new body until Altaïr and company come for the apple. He discovers that he is completely armored and his carapace is really resistant and though, he is really strong capable of shatter stone with a kick, he is very flexible and can climb on surfaces like Spiderman, he can lift things with telekinesis through his horn (solves the issue of no hands), has this big bug mandibles that can come from his snout, his fleshy tail is very flexible and has a pair of stingers with a paralyzing venom, he has wings under his carapace like a beetle open it and fly, and he is pretty much an omnivore but absolutely loves flower nectar, honey, bee wax, and other insects.

One night while sneaking in a city he complains about not being at least a normal horse to not catch so much attention and then fiuussh he transforms into one of the smaller horses he saw in the stables he passed, smaller size and everything. He practices his new shape shifting ability and even figures out how to change color and become invisible. For now he can only shape shift into other quadrupeds, horses, dogs and even something as small as a cat. And that's how he discovers his new emotion based diet. Now that he can spend more time in the cities he doesn't feel as hungry and when some kids tried to pet him and play with him while disguised as a dog he felt an energy boost from feeding off the affection they were giving him.

So to kick off plot once the general date of the expedition to the temple comes Desmond comes back to the temple and waits. He turns invisible and when the fight for the apple comes he drops the invisibility and everyone sees his him in his big insect glory, they think Desmond is some Demon/guardian of the apple.

He manages to run off the templars, save Malik and Kadar and with his telekinesis gives Altaïr the apple.

From here I must clarify that Desmond can speak human languages perfectly he just chooses not to at the moment. And mainly uses this bug language of clicking, chittering, buzzing, crooning and hissing.

From here Desmond either goes back to being invisible and sneaks to Masyaf or just follows outright along with them outside the cave and transforms into a normal horse in front of them to travel back to Masyaf. With the second it allows for more interactions, Al Muslim gets to see Desmond at the beginning and they think the guardian of the apple is following them around and chose their faction as worthy of the treasure.

Al Muslim tries to order him around but Desmond just gives him the stink eye and follows Altaïr around. Using his shape shifting ability to help sneak around and get information, eventually learning how to transform into non-quadrupeds, humans and even inanimate objects. Every once in a while Desmond speaks like a human in public but everyone thinks he is just a very clever parrot except Altaïr who spends the more time with Desmond whose Desmond speaks more and more to everyday.

After Al Mualim is defeated Desmond makes Masyaf the place to put his hive without knowing, at this point everyone knows Desmond can speak and it's fully sapient.

When things calm down Desmond gets the surprise of his life when he lays his first clutch of eggs, he is not a Changeling Queen for nothing. And when the eggs hatch among the grubs is Clay (once Altaïr dies he will be reborn like this too).

The other changelings (changeling workers/soldiers) are also sapient and can do everything Desmond can but Clay becomes a sub-queen of sorts. Clay is a changeling whose function is to be the main Queen (Desmond) right hand, therefore Sub-Queen (princess). While the workers are regular horse sized Clay as Sub-Queen is somewhere in the middle is bigger than the workers but smaller than Desmond. Also Clay doesn't lay eggs (to Desmond's complains).

So now the brotherhood is composed of humans and changelings, who can infiltrate pretty much everywhere, their venom is widely used by the assassins and they make the templars incredibly paranoid of everything even their own pot plants.

If anyone in the brotherhood dares to even look at any of Desmond's hundred children wrong both Altaïr and Desmond will make their lives miserable.

(Now I see Altaïr with a handful of grubs who crawl all over him)

Masyaf becomes the main changeling hive and Clay goes on to make a second one in the nearest assassin headquarters (then he begins to lay eggs).

When Altaïr dies he is reborn as a grub that becomes another Sub-Queen. A lot of brotherhoods around now have a changeling hive with a Sub-Queen and all respond to Desmond (the main Queen).

Changelings feed on surrounding emotions and when they go infiltrate but they mostly feed on the affection of each other's and their fellow brotherhood members.

So when it's Ezio's turn he is just surrounded

By this three giant bug-horses and their million children/niblings.

There was a man who visits their home often. He would always be accompanied by a strange bunch. People in hoods and animals of various sizes…

All of them would call him ‘mother’.

Ezio swears the people with hoods and the animals would change at times, even when they had already entered their home.

It was strange.

Sometimes they would visit with one brown dog but leave with no dogs at all but the number of people would rise.

Other times, he would visit with butterflies on his hair and leave with no butterflies at all but cats walking behind him.

He never stays long, talking to Ezio’s father the longest then taking the time to talk to everyone else for a bit.

Ezio liked it when he visited.

He always gave them new toys they had never seen before. Sometimes, he would bring books that sounded interesting and would be read and borrowed between the siblings.

As Ezio grew older, the more he understood who the man he only knew as ‘Desmond’ was.

He was royalty.

The mother queen.

Ezio still didn’t know what that was supposed to mean and why he was called 'mother queen' instead of 'father king'. All he knew was that Desmond was the ruling matriarch of a kingdom they do not know about.

And House Auditore was part of that kingdom.

Ezio always thought they were nobles of Firenze.

But no.

They were spies.

He still remembered the conversation he had unintentionally eavesdropped on while Desmond was visiting them.

“I’ve warned you about being too close to Lorenzo de’ Medici, Giovanni.”

“I am loyal to the Brotherhood.”

“I do not doubt your loyalty. Just as I know that Clay is loyal to me, I also know Clay will do what he believes is right. The same can be said to you.”

“I am honored to be compared to the princess-”

“Clay would tell you that it’s meant to be an insult. But it’s not. I’m just telling you this to make you understand that just because you are loyal to the Brotherhood, it does not mean you are not compromised.”

“I can assure you-”

“If I order you to return to Monteriggioni with your family and to not return to Monteriggioni even if Lorenzo de’ Medici begged you to, would you do it?”

“Ezio Auditore.”

Ezio stepped back from the door and turned to face the unfamiliar voice who called out to him.

He looked a lot like Desmond but with golden eyes.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine.” The golden-eyed man said, “You will hear what Desmond has ordered your father to do later anyway. Walk with me.”

“Uuuhh…” Ezio didn’t really have any reason to say no so he began to follow the strange man.

As they exited the hallway and made their way to the main room, a cat meowed and nuzzled the man’s legs before following after him, glancing at Ezio curiously only once.

By the time they reached the inner courtyard, five cats were following the man.

“Uuhhh…”

“Altaïr.”

It took a moment before Ezio realized that the man had introduced himself. He was unsure if he could just call ‘Altaïr’ or if he was a noble of higher standing than them so he just asked, “These cats…”

“My children.” Altaïr answered.

Oh.

He was one of those people.

“Sef.” Altaïr called out and a white cat with black fur on his legs and paws meowed as he sat in front of Altaïr, “Stay with Desmond and tell him that I’ll be training Ezio Auditore until he’s done with Giovanni Auditore.”

Ezio opened his mouth to speak but the cat’s meow was loud enough to stop him. Ezio watched the cat quietly make his way back inside before he turned to face Altaïr as he asked, “Training?”

A hooded man that Ezio swore was not there before handed Altaïr two blunt swords used for training and Altaïr threw the other sword to Ezio who caught it easily.

“Uh- merda!” Ezio shouted as Altaïr suddenly charged him, easily disarming him with enough force to stagger him off his feet.

“Get up faster. You’d be dead if I had followed up on my first attack. Again.” Altaïr ordered as he took a few steps back.

Ezio growled and stood. As soon as he grabbed the sword, Altaïr charged once more. Ezio managed to keep hold of his sword but fell on his ass when Altaïr smacked his cheek with the back of his hand.

“You’re too focused on my sword. If I had a hidden weapon on my left hand, you’d be dead. Again.”

Ezio growled once more.

This bastardo was asking for it.

.

.

Training only ended when a hooded man who looked too much like Desmond and Altaïr that Ezio had to take a doubletake, giving Altaïr an opening to hit him on the side with the pommel of his sword, announced that lunch was ready and Desmond would like Altaïr to eat with him and the rest of the Auditore.

As Ezio wheezed as he held his poor bruised side, Altaïr handed the sword to the hooded man who could have been mistaken as Altaïr and Desmond’s son as he said, “Very well. Check the perimeter before scheduling everyone’s meal time, Sef.”

“Darim is already on it, father.”

Wait.

Sef?

Did Altaïr named a cat after his son???

[ndostairlyrium]

okay, major spoilers + me being very critical and rambly so feel free to dodge

who is this person?

what mess, specifically?

why is Harding the only one that gets mad?

how did they think this cutscene was a good idea?

I deliberately chose the smug / angry option to have a legit "stay at your place kid" reaction from her, because I think one of the things that unites all the Inquisitors is that they cared. They fucking cared and were taken advantage of. They were treated like a pawn from the beginning, and they fucking subverted it. What is the mess she's talking about? Being there when it was needed the most? Stopping a legit apocalypse? HOW DID SHE MAKE THE SOUTH VULNERABLE OMG she fucking strengthen it!! It was at its lowest and I'm betting that without the Inquisition it would have been destroyed entirely, even without Corypheus. And she shouldn't need fucking scout Harding to tell a kid to shut their mouth, if that was the real Inquisitor, he would be on the floor crying for mum

We stopped Mages and Templars from mauling each other, and possibly revolutionized their relationship. Prevented Grey Wardens to self destruct and (possibly) helped them to raise their numbers. Put an end to the stupidest civil war in history. We picked the most influential cult leader in the south (the ma' thing had me screaming like, out of everything you could say the Divine has done for the struggle, you're telling me that this is all she can bring to the table? Just reassure Harding she's safe, like, why are you bragging?). Not to mention all those war table missions that are *useless*, like idk, mediating between Ferelden and Orlais? Just to pick one. But everything is inconsequential, apparently. "Hey, Ferelden and Orlais are finally working together in an united front against the Darkspawn" <- that would have been SO COOL

Morrigan being like "she worked hard these past 10 years" is the cherry on top, really. Basically all the hours spent planning my worldstate are limited to "upsidupsi things are bad, have a statuette" with the grey hoodie like an influencer that sold molded lipsticks to their followers. Do I really need someone to reiterate that she's awesome? Can't you show me instead? Are they really recommending the fucking inquisitor??

Give me someone BIG, someone that wears the struggle, with travel clothes, eyebags, dirt on her fingertips, a battered prosthetic. Tell me visually that I'm talking with someone that's leaving the battlefield (with tremendous costs because, like, one of your generals is kilometers away) to bring help and ask for help. I really hope that statuette is worth the costs in lives, because if that statue is a fucking mcguffin I'll scream. In this cutscene she looks more like one of those generals they use for recruitment posters rather than an actual person and I'm mortified for her

Dude, I'm fuming. Fuming. This is fucking ridiculous.

What she should have answered: "Who the fuck are you to judge, and where is Varric? I need to talk to an adult." / "Leave Harding and go do something constructive"

Ankh, they did you so dirty oh my GOD

Do you know how many more interesting scenarios could have been exposed if we had kept some of our decisions?? I guess I'll stick with the "I'm incompetent" version, not that the other options are better...

This meeting could've been an email

[ghostyattheblogg]

Assassin's Creed scenarios. How you met.

Altaïr Ib'n La-Ahad.

You were running. Running as fast as you could, working as a double spy for the Assassins and Templars was a terrible job, and you knew it. After the Templars knew you work for the Assassins, they sended the whole troupe to find you, killing you because you were a traitor.

Because of you focusing to the Templars, showing their swords, spears, and their battle equipments, you tumbled, rolling iver to the front. Thinking that this might be your end. But Thank God, a man in white came forward, killing them.

You've seen him before, you saw him doing the leap of faith when the Templars came over to take over the castle.After all of the Templars were dead, he gave you a helping hand. As you got up from your feet to thank your saviour, he dissapeared, as if he was a ghost.

Thinking you were delusional, you just went of on your own. While said man in White was watching you from the Roofs, before dissapearing in the wind.

Ezio Auditore da Firenze.

Carnevale. A festival filled with music, food, masked people dancing to their hearts content. Fattening themselves with wine and food. Your Father brought you because of his 'business'- more like dragging you so you can find a court. Or a boyfriend. Mainly leaving you to talk to his colleauges, all alone, every time a man came to ask you to dance with him, you politely turned them off.

Prefering to be at home instead wearing a stuffy dress.Thinking that a walk would fix your loneliness, thinking that nothing'll happen. What happens next ? A group of drunkards came, eyeing you up and down as if they had seen the most precious gem in the world.

" 'Ello there poppet." The leader said, walking towards you. And those exact those manage to make your blood run cold, you ran, finding a way to escape. Left, right, middle fork, right, right,...You lost count on how many twists and turns you did. Hopping to loose them.Alas; you ran to a dead end.

You closed your eyes. Praying to God up there would listen to your prayers. Waiting for the blow to come. And when you opened your eyes, you saw all of the drunk men, falling one by one as if they were bricks.There, stood your saviour, a man in white. Wearing a peaked hood, his golden eyes shining in the moonlight.

He went up to you and gave you a tender kiss on your knuckles.

"Are you hurt, signorina ?" He asked, voice laced with worry and concern. You just nodded, not even a scratch was layed upon you.

"I am fine. Thank you." You said, smilling at his hooded figure. Before you could talk more, your father ran, hugging you.

"(Y/n), what happened ?! Who dares to do this to my daughter ?!- Who saved you ?" Your father asked.

"Oh, it was him- Huh ? Where did he go ?" You said, pointing towards the direction of the hooded man, he was gone. Like a Ghost.

"Bah, it does not matter. As long you are safe. I am content. Maybe I should arrange a marriage instead, huh ?" He rambled on and on, walking out.You turned to the same spot the man had dissapear, uttering a small 'Thank you' before you walked away.

Well, you may not have fun, didn't found a boyfriend, but it seems you had quite the interesting night.

Connor Kenway/ Ratonhnhaké:ton.

After nearly being mauled and eaten by bears and wolfs multiple times, you finaly had seek refuge in an abandoned village, deciding to camp for the night. After making a fire, you started to cook. Praying that it won't atract the same bear or wolfs. After a while, you hear some bushes rustling, sensing someone is in the area. Grabbing your bow and arrow, ready to fight.

"Who's there ?" You said, prepared to face anything. A pack of wolfs ? Bring it on, Bear ? Sure, why not. Redcoats?...er...maybe not.

Instead, it was just a man. Very tall, native you thought. Injured above his shoulders. Collapsing infront of you. Not knowing what to do, you just dragged him (because of his height. Making you small and helpless) to your sleeping bag, patched up his wound, and stared at the bonfire till you fall asleep.

The next morning, you found the man had gone, leaving nothing but an eagle feather in his stead and the soft winter wind behind.

Jacob Ethan Frye.

(c/n) : Country name

The Foggy atmosphere of London town washed over you after stepping out of the train. Smelling the smoky scent in the air. Being an Assassin from (c/n) really is tiresome. You were requested by the Assassin Henry Green, saying that you'll be working with two people named : The Frye twins.Though you've never met them, you heard rumors of them being really skilled. Especially hijacking cargo, Assassinating high ranked Templars such like Lucy Thorne, you also heard that they even made a group called 'The Rooks'.

After walking for quite some time, someone bumped into you."Ah, a thousand apologies." The man said politely, before walking away. You noticed that he was holding a wallet. A wallet exactly like yours.. After rummagging through your bag, finding out that your wallet was missing, you chased after the thief with lightning speed.

"Hey, Wait !" You yelled, chassing him down an alley. Before you could do anything, you were surrounded by men in red. Blighters.

"Guess I'll just kick you arses then." (Y/n) sighed, preparing to fight. After a few Blighters tumbling down, she didn't saw one sneaking up behind her. As the Blighter took out a dagger, ready to kill her, a man killed him. As (Y/n) saw a glimps of him, the mysterious man tipped up the top of his hat, as if giving her a salute and walked out of the alleyway.

"What the fuck just happened ?" (Y/n) mumbled to herself as she continued to chase down the one who stole her wallet.

Arno Victor Dorian.

(I'm making this an AU, He 'dissapeared' when he was a child after his dad died. He knew his Assassin bloodline. So basicaly, he had an ultimate comeback and saved his childhood friend, (Y/n). Èlise and Arno are NOT childhood friends in this one)

Ah, yes. Paris, also known as the city of love. Sadly, its condition has been in a..liberative state these days. Being born into noble, or your friend Èlise call it : The lucky ones. Sometimes, you don't feel lucky at all. You missed your childhood friend Arno, since he dissapeared years ago.The same concept like your parents.

Thousands had died in the wrath of Madame Guillotine, as so your parents did too a few months ago. And you remembered it like it was yesterday...

"Mom ! Dad ! Let them Go you Bastards !" a (h/c) woman can be heard, screaming and kicking. It happened in the dead of the night, where they were sleeping. Turns out, your parents had been stealing the people's money and using them. Making you involved to be Guillotined immediately.

Crying, seeing your parents' dead bodies, you could do nothing but cry. Just at the exact moment before you were guillotined, a blue hooded man slashed of the head of the guard who is carrying you, saving you, while he gave you a key to your shackles.

"This should open them. Now, let's go." He said, picking you up in bridal style and ran, a few guards chassing after you. After a few minutes of running, he puts you down in a mansion, the one that seems very familliar to you, the Dorian mansion.

"This should be a safe place to hide. Like to chat, but I need to go." He says, kissing your hand and walks away.

"Wait-" You said, making his steps falter.

"Thank you." You muttered, making him smile lightly under the hood.

"It's nothing." The hooded man said as he walks away, dissapearing. But why does he seem..famillar ?

Edward James Kenway.

(S/n) = Ship name

(Y/n) (L/n). Famous of being a pirate Captain of (S/n). With her looks, skill, and of course, being a pirate. A hefty sum of a Bounty was placed on her head. Because of that, the crew started to celebrate.

"Cheers for captain (Y/n) for having a new bounty !" One of the crew yelled.

"Next time, we should aim higher, maybe fight against El Impoluto !" Another joked. Hearing that, you just chuckled and laughed, sipping your drink. Being a pirate wasn't so bad after all. When you were a child, you live in an orphanage. Sadly, that same orphanage was burnt down to the ground by pirates. Because of that, you swear to hate pirates. But yet here you are, being one of the most nuttorious pirates in History.

After that said party lasted till night, and the crew went to bed. You stayed up awake on top of the mast. Enjoying the salty scent of the ocean. But then, you saw a ship. Thinking that it was just a merchants ship, you ignored it. After a few couple of times, you glanced back at the same ship. Turns out, it was El Impoluto. Panicked, you woke the whole crew up, preparing for battle.

"Look alive, lads ! Man the canons! Get ready, El Impoluto twelve o' clock !" You yelled. Hopping that your ship would survive her attack.-Time skip-After a while of fighting, turns out, half of your crew got killed, the others were injured. You on the other hand, were on the verge of death. (S/n) is destroyed to pieces, you wished just a clean and quick death at least.

Hopping for this to be over, you closed your eyes, embracing the darkness. But what you see before darkness consumes you, is a shadow of a man. And those words are enough to make you calmed down.

"Don't worry, lass. You'll be alright."

Shay Patrick Cormac.

(C/n) : Country Name.

You were the Templar Grandmaster of the (C/n) Rite. Famous in the both Templars and Assassins. The Templars highly respect you, the Assassins fear you. One day, you were invited to a meeting by the Grandmaster Haytham. You heard of him, said his father was the Pirate Assassin Edward Kenway.

After landing at the port, you were greeted by your escort. A man your age, his hair is tied into a pony tail, with a scar on his eyebrow, completing his already perfect looks. To be honest, his irish accent added the perfect zest to it.

"Are you my escort ?" You asked with curiosity, making him smirk and take a bow.

"Aye, it's me." He said, extending his elbow.

"Care for a walk ?" He asked.With no hesitation, you hooked your arm around him,

"Indeed I do."After sometime walking, you finally had reached the headquarters, Haytham, an old friend of yours, was standing with his usual hand-clasps-behind-his-back pose.

"(Y/n)." Haytham started, kissing your knuckles. You just laughed at this.

"Thank you for escorting me, Mr." When (Y/n) turned around, the man that escorted her was gone.

"Where did he go ?" You asked, curiosity filling you.

"Don't worry, he'll be back in a week or two." Haytham shrugged as he leads you inside.

Desmond Miles.

(f/d) : Favorite Drink.An Assassin. That's what you were. And you were tasked to find a man named Desmond Miles, you never knew what he looked like, since you didn't hear the lecture. Saying that he contains the genetic memories of great Assassins such as Ezio Auditore, Altaïr Ib'n La-Ahad, Connor Kenway, and Edward Kenway.

Though you didn't believe it, you just think that is full of bullshit.Since Desmond can be anywhere, you were tasked to find him in New York city, finding a bar where you usually go to during freshamn years, the Bad Weather. There, you see the usual Bartender, John (A/n: Idk what Desmond's fake name is (never mentioned), so I'll use John.).

"John, the usual would you ?" You said, slumping on top of one of the chairs. Sighing, you just stared at the ceiling for a couple of minutes, while John just poured in a glass of (f/d).

"Tough day ?" He asked, handing you the drink while he wiped the table clean.

"Tell me about it." You said, sipping lightly. Chatting with him is nothing but a breeze. The guy understands you, and you understand him. As if like you guys were besties ever since you came. You hanged for a few couple of hours indtead of doing what you were tasked. Sadly, clossing time came by and you had to leave.

"Chat later ?" John asked while he started to close the bar.

"Yeah." You said, leaving the place. Little did you know, that would be the last time chatting with the man named John, meeting him again as a man named Desmond Miles.

A/n : Should I add Kim Noa from AC : Forgotten Temple ? Also, I haven't seen the playthrough of Valhalla, Mirage, Odyssey, and Origins. So I don't know what Eivor, Basim, Alexios, nor Bayek act like. I also apologise if I made the characters too OOC. Been a while since I've write :')

[kit-williams]

Venom of Venus

I think I might write anything Yandere Black Templar I'll probably give it a Powerwolf song title

Hey... ya'll want another Yandere Black Templar? But with that Civilian Darling? Still attempting to make the darling a nameless reader insert

Expect canon typical violence and religious overtones

They would have to fall back. Brother Roland could hear it in the chatter as his position was being flooded by some nameless xeno foe. He glanced to the ammo boxes as his throat tightened at the thought... they wouldn't send her back out here again. Brother Roland was certain that she would heed his warning. The planet was struggling by the time the Crusade fleet had made the unexpected exit from the warp. The Champion had seemingly recieved a holy vision of these people needing their help and they were so desperate for the salvation that the Black Templars would bring. But, they would make sure the populace was not a complacent populace... they would earn their victory. They were certainly pleased by how many civilians stayed back to try and help stem the tide.

"Brother Roland!" Her voice pierced the fog that flooded the trench as he watched this poor woman laidened with three heavy bolter ammo boxes. His Bäckerin with hands far more suited for kneeding dough than carrying around the heavy ammo boxes. Her feet were unsteady as she nearly collapsed under the weight as she clearly ran here. She was so unuse to the heavy flak armor on her and much less the weight of the ammo.

"Bäckerin, I told you to not come back." He speaks with no anger in his voice far more annoyance but his hearts fluttered with pride at the little civilian woman who stayed behind for all these months. How she was the source of a comfort for Roland; a distraction? He did not see it as such as the God Emperor's wrath and will can flood into the lowliest of mortals and it was clear in the way she always looked at him that there was that spark that the God Emperor bestows upon his followers. Her spark burned hot for her small frame just as his spark was a roaring bonfire in comparison but it was no less impressive.

"And-" She gulps down air as her limbs tremble from her effort; the rations barely keeping her physically fit enough, she wasn't trained for the front lines so she was in no shape for what she was doing, "I... I told you... I still owe you a loaf of bread. You-" Another gulp of air, "Can't die before then." She looks up and smiles before covering her ears as he fires his boltgun in rapid succession.

"Go little Bäckerin this is no place for you anymore." He could see her nod and start to run back the way she came.

She didn't get very far before her scream caused his head to snap over and time slowed to a crawl as one of the xenos had rushed over and was bearing down on his Bäckerin. To her... her life was flashing before her very eyes as the horror of the alien was upon her. But what happened next was so fast as a black blur slamed into the far to many jointed limbs. A thank you bubbled in her throat but it died as her face was pressed into the rough cloth over his armor, she was caged under him as the world shook around her.

She was screaming as she covered her ears and hot tears were running down her face. It wore a suicide switch and the sudden "shelling" wasn't helping but he prayed to the God Emperor trying to soothe his Bäckerin, his voice roughly coming through his vox as he tried to drown out the noises with his prayers.

"I'm sorry Roland I'm so sorry!" She bluthered as the stress of it all got to her and of course she was but a mortal... he understood she was scared. She was a campfire to his bonfire but he would make sure her flame did not go out even if it flickered. She could feel the way he gently pet her head as he switched to his internal vox and updated his superiors that he was alive after that.

"Bäckerin, meine liebster Bäckerin. Das hast du so gut gemacht, bitte keine Tränen mehr." Roland cooed at her, remembering when she asked to hear his mother language and the way her eyes lit up at the way he spoke. How enamored she was when he said his prayers in this tongue. How he watched her open her eyes and look at him, how her pretty eyes glistened with tears still. "There's meine Bäckerin." He said with his chest rumbling but he picked her up and dirt fell off of his back. The trench was ruined.

"You should get out of here my Lord." She said wiping her eyes, "I can run and make noise to-" She spoke as he started to mag lock ammo to his belt and body.

"Bäckerin," He said in a tone that made her flinch, "if that thought ends with you trying to sacrfice yourself." She couldn't stop the whimper as she could feel his overwhelming presence.

"I'll just sl-" She managed to whimper out before he fully turned to face her.

"Bäckerin." He hissed out and of course she crumpled.

"I'm sorry my lord please forgive me." She squeaks out before he picks her up and starts to run toward the fall back point.

"I can forgive you if you remember that your duty is not that of a martyr besides you have teased me with the prospect of having some fresh bread for months. You will not deny me that."

She let out a soft laugh as he carried her so easily but the lightheartedness died as Roland had to whip out his bolter and fire back at the skittering xenos. He could feel her grab his rosary, grabbing the large golden aquilia and starting to pray as the fog was unnatural and created by them and she could see them in the fog.

He knew no fear but he could worry. He worried for his Bäckerin. "Bäckerin tell me again what you're going to do after you survive this and the xenos are gone!" He demands trying to distract her.

"I'm going to open my bakery back up and I'm going to finally get married and have babies, so many babies!" She screeches out that final part as out of the fog one of them jump and he back hands it so hard that the sickening crunching noise will never leave her. "Oh by the God Emperor I'm so sorry I put it off!" She just sobs as she just is so stressed and scared she can't help but sob as she prays and confesses her perceived transgressions.

"I'll give them to you Bäckerin. As many as you want." He pants out but his promise falls upon her deaf ears. "It's why I can't leave you behind. How can I give you what you want!" He doesn't know why he says such things to her. But the thought of her... under him... the thought of making good on his promises to her gives him a boost to his running making him run faster. The smell of her blood hits him as she squeezed his aquilia so tightly it cut her palm as she is just praying so fervently that he can't stop himself from shouting his own prayers. His third lung fills up as he pushes himself harder. They have to survive how else can he give her what she desires and deserves. To be full of his babies! He won't tell her how he's wanted her since she gave him that first loaf of bread. How her soft smile and devotion is what brought him so much joy.

Her devotion to the God Emperor, her devotion to her planet and people, and most of all her devotion to him. Why else would she come out risking her life if she did not care?! Oh he'll kill so many xenos for her. He can see the way she presses her face against his armor to try and hide her tears and to hide her face from the wind that stings her face from how fast he runs. He ignores her pleas to be left behind to stop being dead weight. She's never a burden in fact she tries so hard... for a baseline human she tries so hard.

He's already made up his mind if she survives it's by the will of the God Emperor and his to have! He'll make her so heavy and happy! As his little Bäckerin makes daily bread. All according to the will of the God Emperor.

All of it.

[egrets-not-regrets]

Museum

Warsmith Eciton Formicas takes the time to visit his bonded human, an educator who works at the local museum’s natural history exhibit. He’s not the only one at the museum that day and gets to meet his bonded’s favorite teacher.

Author’s Note: Another meetcute. 🥰 I can’t have Mara meeting Eciton in Of Fin and Feathers AU and not have them meet in Space Marine Husbandry Sentience AU. Takes place after Ben reunites with Amelia.

Tagged: @shadowfirecat , @kit-williams , @bleedingichorhearts , @barn-anon , @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@sleepyfan-blog , @bispecsual , @c-u-c-koo-4-40k , @ms--lobotomy , @whorety-k

@gra93fruit-blog , @i-am-a-dragon34 , @felinisnoctis

Eciton stands at the back, watching the young man talking about biodiversity of the forest undergrowth in front of a rapt audience. His lips curl into a small smile as the children excitedly wave their hands to be picked to handle the large millipede the young man held. He was glad to have scheduled some time off to visit his bonded at the museum amd watch him work. It’s not often enough that he’s able to do such a thing nor be able to keep a close eye on his human. Luckily he’s able to assign some of the Astartes at his base to keep his bonded safe in his stead.

The presentation soon finished and the audience dispersed to wander among the rest of the exhibits. Eciton walks over to where his bonded human was packing up the animals and displays he had. He gently takes the small ant farm and wolf spider display then puts them on the cart.

His human grins and thanks him.

“Was that the presentation you had been working on the past few weeks, Daniel?” The warsmith asks.

“Yes. How was it?” Daniel replies as he continues to pack up.

Eciton hums with approval, “Rather engaging, though I thought you would put some more focus on the ants.”

“You like ants, I get it.” the young man laughs, “I have to be fair about giving all creatures equal amount of time in my presentation, you know.”

Setting on the last display, Daniel is about to push his cart back in the lab behind him when he spots someone familiar. He happily waves them over, “Ms. Plover! Ms. Plover! Hi!”

Mara had watched Daniel’s presentation, impressed by his performance and growth over the years. She lags behind, reading the displays as Amelia and Ben, along with their space marines, go to check out the rest of the exhibit. Suddenly, Daniel’s familiar voice calls out to her.

“Ms. Plover! Hi!”

Daniel had been one of the students she taught many years ago when she had been teaching full-time. Mara is surprised that he still recognized her. Her eyes crinkle as she walks towards the educator and greets him with a warm hug and a smile.

“Your presentation was very well done!

Eciton watches as Daniel rushes over to an older woman to enthusiastically greet her with a hug. Daniel leads her over to where he was standing and introduces them.

“This is Ms. Plover, my favourite teacher! She’s the one who inspired me to continue insect keeping and research, and become the educator I am today.” Gesturing to the bonded space marine, Daniel continues proudly, “This is Eciton Formicas, my bonded space marine! He’s the warsmith at Steelix Fortress Base.”

Eciton straightens his posture and gives her a nod. She looks and smells familiar. He quickly realizes that she was related to Alcyon’s and Malaran’s humans, who were involved in the incident with that Black Templar. Internally, he debates if he should mention that or not to her.

“Don’t let your other teachers hear that.” Mara joked before smiling warmly and holding out a hand to the warsmith, making sure to address him by his proper title, “Nice to meet you Warsmith Formicas. You can call me ‘Mara’ instead, Ms. Plover is far too formal and I’ve retired from teaching.”

Eciton’s hand engulfs hers as he gently shakes her hand, “My pleasure. It is good to meet someone who’s inspired my bonded so deeply.”

Daniel grins, “You’re the only one who let me keep bugs in the classroom. Even after the whole ‘mantid babies’ incident.”

Mara chuckled, remembering the time when baby mantises hatched from the egg case that Daniel brought in. They were still finding tiny mantises a month later in the classroom. “I don't think we’ve ever found them all.”

“Good! I’ve left my legacy in that school.” Daniel thumps his chest proudly to Eciton’s amusement. He looks at the cart and excuses himself, “I need to put these guys back in the lab, I’ll be right back out soon. You guys have a good chat!”

With that, he wheels the cart away and disappears into the lab.

An awkward silence hung between the pair for a short moment until Mara spoke up again,“Thank you for letting my daughter keep Ben. I’m sure that incident caused you no shortage of headaches. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

Eciton blinks, not expecting Mara to say such a thing. He quickly collects himself, “It’s fine. That issue has been resolved and it is only a matter to settle in the human legal system now between your daughter and her in-laws.”

“Regardless, thank you.” She replies, grateful to have her family reunited.

The Iron Warrior could feel heat at edge of his ears and he nods slightly, “You’re welcome.”

Mara smiles a little then asks, “How long have you been bonded with Daniel? I don’t remember him mentioning anything about a space marine when I was teaching him at Gannet Point. Knowing Daniel when he’s excited, he definitely would be announcing that to the world.”

Eciton chuckled, “I met him while he was here in Steelix River several years ago. Sometimes that boy needs to learn timing and volume, but it suits him well for the work he does here.”

“Grandma’s looking like she’s having a nice chat with that space marine guy.” Ben points out. Amelia had thought her mother had lagged behind for a susiciously long time when they decide to turn back to search for her.

“Your mother is chatting up the Warsmith.” Alcyon murmured incredulously, one arm wrapped around Amelia’s shoulder.

Mara is indeed talking to Warsmith Formicas who is soon joined by the presenter, one of her former students. Amelia lets out a quiet exasperated laugh and leans affectionately into Alcyon’s side, feeling him tighten his hold, “Of course she is. My mom has a talent for holding a conversation with nearly anyone. It probably helps that the warsmith’s bonded is my mom’s former student.” She knew that her mom isn’t bonded to an Astartes, but the way the warsmith stands protectively by the educator, it is obvious that the educator is his bonded human.

Mara nearly forgets the time while she was chatting until Ben wraps his arms around her and she sees Orca close behind.

“Grandma! We’ve found you!”

Mara chuckles and hugs him back, “Hello Ben, Orca. This is Daniel, one of my students and this is Warsmith Formicas. Be polite.”

Ben looks up and greets them both, “Hi Daniel. Hi Warsmith Formicas.”

“Grandma?” Daniel asks, “Did you get married?”

“No,” Mara explains, “I adopted my niece as my own and her son, Ben, is my grandson.”

Eciton looked down at the scrappy young boy who was the cause of all this drama; who, against all odds, managed to escape a Black Templar and reunite with his mother, with the help of his bonded chaos marine and one of his men. Ben stared back evenly, not cowed by the warsmith’s presence. Eciton can see the family resemblance.

“Formicas.” Malaran says as he holds onto Ben again, his red eyes daring the warsmith to make a comment about his charge. Daniel shifts uncomfortably.

“Where’s your mom and Alcyon?” Mara asks Ben, cutting through the tension like a hot knife through butter.

“They’re coming.” The boy replies.

They look over to see Alcyon and Amelia making their way towards them. The chaos Iron Warrior nods at them, “Warsmith.”

Amelia greets them, smiling, “Warsmith Formicas, Daniel.” She addresses the educator, “That was a wonderful presentation.”

“Yeah!” Ben pipes up, “That was so cool! I really liked when you talked about the fishing spider.”

Daniel’s grin is large and bright when he replies, “I’m glad you guys like it! Unfortunately time’s a bit tight, but next time when you come by again, send me an email and i can set you up with a behind the scenes tour of the lab.” Giving Ben his business card.

Ben cheers, “That is awesome! Thanks!”

The educator laughs, “You’re welcome!”

Eciton and Daniel look on as the family wave their goodbyes and disappears to look at the other exhibits in the museum.

“Cute kid. That’s the one who made the shouty guys shoutier?” Daniel asks.

Eciton snorts at Daniel’s description of the Black Templars, “Yes.”

“I like him, he seems bright and scrappy.”

“The boy and his Astartes are trouble.” the Warsmith grumbles.

“They can’t be all that bad. You seemed to have a nice chat with Ms. Plover. She makes some really good pastries too.” Daniel adds.

“She was a good conversationalist.” Eciton grudgingly admits that much, then smirks at his bonded, “She also shared some of your hijinks of when you were in her class. Bringing in a container full of cockroaches without secure containment? Really, Daniel?”

The young man groans, “I was a kid. Secure containment wasn’t exactly my priority at the time.”

[sulky-valkyrie]

Prompt: "I want to be there when you get what's coming to you."

For Fenders if you are so inspired <3

hallooo beloved! have 700 words of pre-relationship something for @dadrunkwriting

"-what's coming to you."

The words were muffled and distant as Anders swam back to consciousness. "What?" he asked. Well, tried to. Instead it came out a low inarticulate grunt, followed by reflexively spitting blood from his mouth.

He made a second attempt. "What?" This time, the word actually made it past his split lips. He reached up to wipe his face, and found he couldn't. His hands had been tied to the armrests. What happened?

"I said I remembered telling you I wanted to be there when you got what's coming to you." Fenris sat to his left, and his voice was full of bitter amusement. "I confess, this wasn't what I had in mind." He was tied up as well, and with far more rope than Anders.

"Where's Hawke?" He asked thickly. Everything was blurry, and Justice was gone. No, not gone; just quiet, like a man asleep next door, only next door was still somewhere in his mind. Something both sweet and bitter clung to the back of his throat, a combination of magebane and… perhaps deepstalker venom? Whatever it was, it made him feel sluggish, even as his thoughts raced in a body he could barely control. Is this how it feels for Justice?

Fenris continued as if he hadn't heard him. "I thought it would be in the Gallows. I thought you'd lose yourself to… him. That I'd have to cut you down myself. Some nights, I dreamed about it." He shook himself. "Nothing like this, just a misstep and a price paid."

Anders looked around and tried to focus. They were in a basement. A Chantry basement. He could see the stylized sunburst pattern on the robes peeking from one of the crates. "Where's Hawke?" he asked again.

"The Keep, most likely, for all the good it'll do," Fenris answered, still sounding dazed, or maybe in shock. Blood trickled from bruised and broken skin on his cheekbone. Few things could leave mark like that, and gauntleted fist was the most likely source. "The Templars only obeyed the Viscount's orders because he never gave any that they saw a reason to ignore. Until now."

Panic was starting to rise in his chest, making his heart pound, sending whatever was left of the poison to his liver, where his Warden constitution would cleanse it from his body faster than their captors could possibly expect. The fabled Warden stamina of popular rumor was only one of the many side effects of the Joining, and, for once, he found himself glad of his order's secretive nature.

He scratched his cheek on the edge of his shoulder as the fog cleared. The magebane would still linger, of course; the taint had no effect on a mage's connection to the Fade, and therefore, couldn't undo any damage done to it. "What happened?" He asked.

Fenris glanced at him curiously. "You don't remember?"

Anders shook his head, then stopped as the bile rose in his throat. "Alrik. We - I almost… then I ran." He frowned as another chunk of memory slotted in place. "Then you followed me?"

"Right into the most ill-timed black market deal in all of Thedas," Fenris confirmed. "A dozen lyrium-drunk Templars and a dozen more Carta. I thought you would turn and slaughter all of them." Fenris paused, then added, "I was ready to let you, after what he said to that girl. Ready to mop up whatever was left of them, and you. But you didn't. You were… " he trailed off uncomfortably. "You asked me once if I ever thought about killing myself."

"What's that got to - oh." A fractured recollection kneeling in front of them, ready to pay for what they'd nearly become, what they'd nearly done. Weapons had been leveled at them in surprise, then the smites had rained down, battering them senseless, and accepting it for the just punishment they deserved, all before a streak of ghostly blue had cut through them, rending flesh and breaking bones.

His memories stopped there, and Fenris' voice dragged him back to the basement. "I watched you decide to die, and I couldn't allow it," he said softly. "I wanted to be there when you got what was coming to you. And I was." His markings flared, and he stood up as the ropes fell through him, then reached over to yank Anders' hands free. "And now, they will have it returned tenfold."

[thevoidscreams]

The knight and his lady

A bit of fluff inspired by @moodymisty 's recent Black Templar stuff

Unnamed Black templar x reader

Pacing was all you could do as you waited. Hands clasped in front of your chest as you prayed with sincerity for what felt like the first time since your childhood. “Please god Emperor let him come back to me. That's all I ask of you. Don’t let him perish in his battle.” The reports were coming back worse every time and your heart felt like it was going to stop beating. Never in your life since you’d been taken by the astares did you think you’d feel such concern, such love. Sure you’d jokingly call him your knight all the time but still. It felt like the world would collapse and you’d die if anything actually happened to your templar.

You needed him to come home safe to you. You’d adored him ever since you’d met him during your routine of caring for the temple your mother had left you at. Now you lived your life as a serf to this strange but oddly wonderful man. His term of endearment for you had started shortly after you’d called him your knight for the first time. “Well if I am your knight, does that make you my Lady?” The memory brought fresh tears to your eyes as you sat helplessly on his bed. 

“Please..please..let him come home to me.” The plea was a quiet whisper as your mind focused on the urgency of that plea. So focused in fact that you did not hear the hiss of the door, but you did hear the heavy ceramite.He came in silently and knelt at your feet. He was about to speak but was interrupted by the sudden hug you wrapped him in. “You’re okay!” You half wailed as his free arm came up to hold you. “Did you doubt me?” His voice came out even. “No…but there was so much news coming back, all of it was so bad and there were so many astartes deaths. I-I…I couldn’t help but worry. Especially when they told me that a lot of your brothers had perished and then when they couldn’t raise you on your vox…I know it is your duty and I would never dream of keeping you from your service to the Emperor. I was just so worried.” Your breath shuddered and he realized for the first time that you were crying. He set his sword aside and held you in both arms. “I have returned now. There is no need for that.” He was so soft with you.

“I was so worried I’d lose my knight.” You burbled. He set you back on the bed and tilted your chin up with one finger.” “I cannot die. Not while my Lady needs me.” He raised a hand to remove his helm so you could see the sincerity in his eyes. “So long as you live, I will come back to you. I swear this.”

Brushing away your tears you gave him a watery wobbly smile and nodded. “And I will always be here for my knight to return to. This, I swear.”

He nodded and bowed his head. Holding your hands with his. “Thank you my Lady.” “You’re welcome, my knight.” You lean down to kiss his fingers. “I love you.” His head snapped up at your words and you were rewarded with one of his rare and beautiful smiles. “I love you as well..my Lady.”

[jean-dieu]

All my protag from Dragon Age!! An idiot, an idiot, a sweetheart.

With very important informations regarding them of course.

Below the cut is just me rambling about them with actual informations, you can ignore LMAO

Artemis Tabris is a city elf with a fierce personality. Extremely stubborn, he refuses to stay silent in front of whatever discrimination he and his people can face. He's extremely protective of his friends and his family. Of course, it was only a matter of time before he would do something that would put him in big troubble. When his wedding day is interrupted in the worst way possible, he seeks vengeance for all the women, not caring for the consequences. He was glad to become a grey warden, as he thought it would give him the opportunity to finally be properly respected and to protect his family more than ever. He did lack the proper discipline though, often just doing whatever he wanted to do. His main past time is annoying Alistair, mostly by rubbing his relationship with Morrigan in his face. It started as more or less of a fling, but he grew very attached to her in the end, even going as far as searching for her despite everything. In the end, he gives up, and ends up with Zevran instead, and the two men manage to find happiness in life.

"Nacht" Hawke will never say his real name because he thinks it's lame. No, he's a hero, he's the main character, he's so cool, so he gets to name himself. He's a sarcastic piece of shit. He loves to annoy Carver, and the two of them doesn't go along. Despite his many flaws, he values friendship more than anything. Varric is his bff for life, and at this point they probably have matching tramp stamps tattoos. He's fiercly pro-mage, not exactly like Anders. Nacht's point of view is just "I was born like this and I just think I deserve the right to live". He's in general very against people in position of powers and in favor of the common folks. There's not a day that goes with him and Fenris fighting then kissing right after. He resented Carver when he chose to join the Templar, but they both made peace in the end, agreeing that they'll never manage to get along, but accepting to protect each other because they're family.

Aloysius Lavellan would gladly do anything else instead of being the Inquisitor. Still, the weight of the world on his shoulders is too overwhelming to ignore, and he's doing his very best to lead the organization to success. What he lacks in leadership and charisma, he makes up with determination. Cullen is coaching him for public speaking, and Josephine to polish his public image. Aloysius is in general too soft and too gentle to be a leader. He's shy, introverted, anxious, and always wondering if he did the right thing. Still, with a bit of help, he actually manages to become a worthy leader, respected for his humility and overall kindness with his men. He still doesn't know how he managed to secude Iron Bull but he's very happy about it and he loves him so very much. He tends to be kind of naive but he's very knowledgable on the world. He knows everything about plants and can rambles about them for hours. He's friends with every companion. He's a great mage, and he's always eager to improve his skills and magic, and he's not the type of man to rest on his laurels.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Church

Author’s Note: This is the next part of Cedric’s Adventures in the Astartes Husbandry AU! First. Previous. Next

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34 

Warnings: panic attack, references to religious suppression, ask me to tag if I missed anything, 

Summary: Cedric hears Church Bells while wandering the city and goes to investigate. 

As he’s managed to prove that he won’t randomly attack people if not constantly monitored by firstborn Brothers or Cousins, Cedric has finally been allowed to wander the mortal city that the base is part of without needing an escort. While he does prefer to be in the company of at least one of his fellow Primaris Marines, the others are all busy today. Jophiel has been claimed by the Firstborn Blood Angels and is being trained in his psyker powers. Claude has been talked into interacting with some non-crazy firstborn Night Lords - who apparently existed at one point in time.

Catius is interacting with several older Ultramarines with Ramiel accompanying him as both emotional support and back up. Cedric has been allowed to wander wherever he likes, so long as he stays within city limits, or informs an older Brother or Cousin if he wants to wander through the nearby woods that surround the city before doing so. It’s early in the morning with Terra’s Star just barely peeking over the eastern horizon, and Cedric desperately wishes that he knew of a place where he could perform morning prayers and hymns without making his older brothers and cousins uncomfortable while doing so. Religion, worship and prayer made many of them deeply uncomfortable, after all. Those who weren’t Black Templars, nor were from M42. 

He’d briefly talked to Brother Arnault and Brother Roland about it, but neither of them had found a place where one could gather with other worshippers to sing and pray together, either. Both had been delighted if a bit cautious when he brought news of Ramiel, a Chaplain in training of their shared Chapter. But the crux of the issue remained the same; there was nowhere where the group of them could gather and go through the morning services that had been so routine on both the planet-bound monasteries and the cathedral-rooms of the chapter ships that he had served on. The private homes that both Roland and Arnault lived in were too small to host multiple Astartes - besides, the singing and prayer would wake either of theirs human bonded, which was unfair.

Cedric still felt the loss, despite having been brought to Ancient and Holy Terra months ago now. A forlorn sigh left the young Black Templar as he continued to wander through the streets of the city, making a mental map of the place. 

He froze when the sound of something he hadn’t expected to in this time.

Bong

Bong

Bong

The ringing sound of metal on metal, the clear, resonant sounds of a church bell ringing in the early morning. It took the young Templar several moments to process what he was hearing, and several more to figure out in which direction the sound was coming from. There wer some baseline humans wandering about the city at this time of day, but Cedric barely registered their presence as he started to sprint at his full (and considerable) speed towards the source of the ringing church bells, his hearts having flown up to take residence in the back of his throat.

He skidded to a halt in front of the beautiful stone building. He could see stunning mosaics made out of stained glass set in the windows, catching the light of the morning light. He could see the tower where the bells were still ringing, hearing the bells swing back and forth as they were rung over and over again.

The front doors of the church were open, and a steady stream of baseline mortals were entering in an orderly line. Excitement and nervousness battled for dominance in Cedric’s hearts as he made his way to the back of one of these lines, glad that he was wearing fairly nice civilian clothes, as most of the mortals around him were wearing nice clothing as well.

He had to duck a little to enter the church, the top of the door a good foot or so shorter than he was tall but that was a paltry price to pay as he silently took in the entry-way before him. The floor was made out of polished stone that shone in the artificial light and the rainbow of colors that the stained-glass filtered in. He followed the line of mortals to the main worship chamber. Dozens of padded pews made of wood were in neat orderly rows facing the pulpit, where the chaplain or whoever was to speak. 

There was a massive musical instrument built into one side of the walls of this worship room, and Cedric silently wondered what it sounded like. He silently eyed the pews, deciding that it was unlikely that they would be able to support his weight, along with the mortals, and he really didn’t want to damage any part of this sacred and holy place.

Each pew quickly filled up with mortals, and Cedric found himself at the very back of the worship-chamber. One of the robed clergy-members were handing out pillows to those who did not have a proper spot to sit, guiding the mortals to sit in neat, organized rows, while another helped keep the line in order.

Both paused for several seconds when Cedric stepped forwards, looking up at him with inscrutable expressions on their faces. Cedric looked down at them, head tilting a little to one side as he worked up the courage to talk to them. Talking to a member of the Ecclesiarchy was always a nerve wracking experience back in M42, and the young Black Templar really wanted to make a good first impression. He didn’t want to be kicked out of the church because he offended them by accident. “Is… Is something the matter?” Cedric managed to ask. 

The member of the clergy who was handing out pillow-seats spoke up first “Forgive me for the assumption, but are you an Astartes?” Though their voice was quiet, it carried far in the room. Deep silence followed their question and Cedric could feel the eyes of dozens, if not hundreds of mortals staring holes into the button-down shirt he was wearing.

The scrutiny made Cedric tense up, though he did his best to keep his voice quiet and respectful, making sure to avert his gaze from their faces as he answered “I am… Is that a problem?” He hadn’t been told that there was anywhere within the city that Astartes were forbidden to go… But perhaps his older cousins hadn’t thought that he would wander into a random church, so they hadn’t thought to tell them? 

“No… But many Astartes are quite… Vocal about their distaste for religion - organized or otherwise and have caused trouble in the past. If you plan on trying to stop the service, we ask you to please simply leave.” One of the clergy-people explains, gesturing to one of the others who leave the room “If you refuse to leave, there are Astartes who are willing to remove you from this place - by force if necessary.”

Oh. Oh no. Cedric could easily imagine that happening “... And if I wish to observe the religious practice quietly and without interruption, would I be allowed to stay? While I do agree that many of the older Cousins and Brothers who have been brought to Terra are… Strongly against religion of all kinds, this does not hold true for myself nor the handful of Brothers who were taken from… Places similar to where I was taken from.” He hesitated for a couple of moments, as he could tell that the baseline clergy weren’t entirely convinced that he meant no harm and did not intend to cause trouble. He continued to try and explain himself “I have religious beliefs that I hold quite deeply, and as long as your beliefs are not violent towards innocents, or use vital sacrifice during any part of it, I do not think I would interfere with the proceedings.”

“Would you seek to convert others to your own beliefs, through word or physical force, were you allowed to stay?” The clergy person asked, a wry tone in their voice.

Cedric blinked twice. The amount of trouble he would get into for attempting that would be catastrophic. It had been made explicitly clear to him that though the God Emperor was alive somewhere in this time period, he had not yet revealed himself to be the Master of Mankind, and to try and draw attention to him at such a time could be devastating. “No… If I were asked about my beliefs, I would be honored to explain what I’m allowed to, but much of it is..” Not exactly a closed practice, from where and when he came from, but much of it would require explaining about the Great and Terrible future that Humanity was facing tens of thousands of years in the future, which was forbidden to speak of in detail without explicit permission “I would not be allowed to explain without prior permission, which I do not have.”

“Is there a particular reason why you sought out our church in the first place?” The baseline asks, stepping a little closer to where Cedric was standing. Some of the wariness and suspicion had left their voice and their body posture was a bit more open “... You seem… Young, for an Astartes. Am I wrong?”

Cedric shook his head “You are not wrong, ecclesiarch. I am young for an Astartes, and still am in training for parts of my duty to my chapter.” He had yet to tell any Brother or Cousin his precise age, mostly because he was pretty sure that Captain Ash’val would explode spectacularly. Or Apothecary Hura would kidnap him and keep him by his side at all times because Little Baby Brothers need constant supervision. Honestly! He’s been on deadly and difficult missions without his Mentor before! He also survived the longest in M42 of the Primaris Marines who he knows about anyways. It’s not his fault that most of the Firstborn Astartes he’s run into are at minimum upwards of three hundred years old if not much, much older. The cantankerous bastards. He heard the sounds of ceramite on stone, and the heavier step of an Astartes walking towards them. “... May I please stay? I promise not to cause trouble. The sound of the church bells were familiar to me, and I… I’ve missed morning prayers and psalms in the months I’ve been on Terra, terribly.”

“Are there not places to worship in one of the Astartes bases in town? And Ecclesiarch is the incorrect term, please refer to me as Sister Superior.” The be-robed mortal asked and gently corrected Cedric. 

Cedric fidgeted a little “Not that I am aware of. The reclusiums are to be used by the Chaplains alone along with whoever they have trusted to keep those inner sanctums clean and well-tended to. Chaplains are meant to tend to the mental and emotional health of their Brothers and Cousins, among other duties, however…” Cedric also kept quiet about the other duties that Chaplains were to tend to - at least among the Black Templars as he didn’t want to potentially concern or distress the Sister Superior he was speaking with. Perhaps she was part of an order that was a precursor to the Sister of Battle? “Among the chaplains who I have interacted with on Terra, the only one who might be comfortable leading the morning prayers and psalms I dearly miss is around the same age and training level as myself. We don’t… We don’t have a space to worship where we would potentially draw the ire... Erm. Discomfort of our older brothers and cousins who do not hold the beliefs we do.”

He could hear the approach of the other Astartes, he was getting closer. Cedric deliberately did not look away from the Sister Superior to try and figure out who this Astartes was, nor from which direction he was approaching Cedric in, as the young Black Templar really meant no harm. He also had truly been just drawn to the sound of the ringing church bells, and a soul-deep longing ache still resonated inside of him. 

“Were you hoping to see if this church would be serviceable to your needs? Or merely drawn by the sound of the ringing bells? They do sound beautiful when they do ring, and this church is one of the loveliest in the region, in my humble opinion.” Sister Superior answered, a small smile on her face. She gestured wordlessly for him to come closer, which the young Astartes obeyed.

Cedric knelt so that he was closer to her eye level, keeping his gaze focused  downwards, penitent and trying hard not to seem threatening. “I was drawn by the sound of the bells, and this church really is beautiful. It’s been so long since I’ve seen stained glass like that. It reminds me of the worship halls on m-... In the fortress-monastery I enjoyed training in the most.” 

“I will say that you aren’t the first Astartes who has been drawn to our church, with the earnest desire to find a space in which to worship without being judged by other Space Marines who are vocal about their dislike of open displays of worship. Ah, there you are, Lykos. You needn’t worry, this young Cousin of yours wandered in out of curiosity and an open heart, rather than to try and cause trouble.” The Sister Superior murmured, her gaze focusing on someone behind and slightly to the left of Cedric.

A deep, rich voice with an accent that Cedric did not recognize rumbled Astartes-deep behind the young Black Templar “I see… I was hopeful that was the case, as you arrived at this church without arms or armor, but that is not always the case. What is your name, Cousin? I am Brother-Chaplain Lykos of the Word Bearers Legion. I am from mid-M31 originally.”

The older Astartes was wearing black armor with red, silver and gold accents. There were runes inscribed on much of his armor, written in neat rows that Cedric did not immediately recognize, and the symbol of an open book with white pages set aflame on one of the other Astartes’ pauldron the other having a red arrow on it. Upon the other’s chest-plate was the the symbol of the two-headed Aquila. He had a black cape that draped regally behind him, and almost but not quite touched the floor. His skull-helmet was clipped to his belt, and his head was shaved bald, with dozens of golden tattoos on his face and neck shone in the light of the early morning sun.

Cedric froze for several seconds, the breath in his lungs freezing over solid at the approach of a strange first-born Chaplain. Brother-Chaplain Lykos had no mutations, no extra appendages and no spikes. He did not smell like a Chaos-tainted Astartes, either, but Cedric still felt very small and threatened as the chaplain loomed over him.

The quiet murmurings of serfs in prayer echoing in the stone chamber, the slight waft of incense as the Firstborn Chaplain approached him, one hand on his chainsword, a neutral and disapproving expression on his face. The other’s voice rings in his ears but Cedric is having difficulties processing what he’s saying. 

A ceramite-gloved hand reaches out to where Cedric is still kneeling and, to his eternal shame, he flinches and cowers away from the attempt at contact. Why is it so difficult to breathe, all of a sudden? Cedric is breathing fast and shallow, as a heavy, oppressive weight is pressing against his chest.

One of the Sisters steps between Cedric and the Chaplain, and the noise in Cedric’s ears roars louder. Her fingers tremble a little with the age of a mortal, and the expression she gives him is of gentle concern. She reaches out to cup his face, and he leans into her touch, a tiny sound leaving him. Most of his focus is on the knees of the Chaplain, however, knowing better than to keep his focus from wavering from One of Them. 

“I asked you a question.” The Chaplain rumbles, voice sharp with irritation and disapproval “What is your name? To which Legion or chapter do you belong to?”

[barbex]

Dorian mentions Templars using lyrium smell like a lightning strike — and that it’s apparently quite attractive. Mayhaps many mages have a love-hate relationship with Templars because of this, or individual covered in lyrium *cough* Fenris *cough*.

Do I smell “a special scent of [lyrium]” fenders prompt for DADWC? 👀

Oh yes!! Great prompt, thank you. For @dadrunkwriting, a fenders fic about Anders smelling Fenris.

---

“In scents and smells, we trap our memories.” Anders wracks his brain whoever had said that to him in his past. It had to be in the Circle, he can practically smell the dust of ancient tomes and old desks as he hears the words in his mind. How ironic that he connects to the past with memories of scent as he thinks about what that current smell is. 

There’s the smell of elfroot, that he ground into paste and smeared on various scrapes and injuries of his companions. There’s the scent of wildflowers and moss as they trot along the Sundermount path. There is, of course, the smell of sweat and dried blood, because you just can’t step outside of Kirkwall for five minutes without running into someone stupid enough to attack a group of two warriors, a dwarf with a terrifying crossbow, and a mage. Granted, said mage tries to look inconspicuous, but the elf with a sword bigger than himself should clue anyone in on their chances.

Said elf is a fascinating package of contradictions. He loudly proclaims how much he hates mages and Anders in particular, but still protects him in a fight. He is annoying, bigoted, bloody gorgeous, and he smells — he smells like thunderstorms and power. 

Even Justice stirs when Fenris walks by, a strange sensation somewhere in the back of Anders’ mind, an area he can usually ignore quite nicely. But not today. Not when, once again, someone steps in their way, weapons drawn, and the markings on Fenris’ arms start to glow. 

Thunderstorms and power. 

As he stares, breathing in the scent, a memory finally clicks into place. Lyrium. This is the scent of lyrium. Bottled mana power and danger all in one. At once he is back in the classroom, when the First Enchanter gave each of them a drop of lyrium potion, how it coursed through his veins, how for a moment, he felt so free. Then someone set a table on fire and the resulting firefighting of overeager and lyrium potioned teenagers flooded the whole building. 

Distracted by the memory, he misses the exchange up front, where Hawke argues with some men. Fenris stands by her side, practically vibrating with fury, and Anders steps closer. The scent emanating from him is intoxicating. 

Thunderstorms and power. 

“I am no slave,” Fenris snarls. His body glows blinding white, leaving a white afterimage as he disappears and reappears next to the slaver in the blink of an eye, plunging his fist into his chest and pulling out his heart. It still beats sluggishly in his hand as his markings dim. 

Anders finds himself on his knees. He doesn’t know how it happened, but his knees gave out and he nearly came in his fucking pants when Fenris glowed up white. 

“Are you alright?” Hawke asks, holding her hand out to help him up. 

Anders waves her off. “Yeah, just give me a second. Just got hit with some strange nausea.” No way he can stand up right now. The tent in his trousers is much too obvious. 

After a few calming breaths and discreet adjustments of his clothes, he follows the group at a distance, watching Fenris’ back. How can one person have so much lyrium in their body and still live? How can he use it like that, without his power diminishing, and how can Anders possibly survive being next to him when he gets a fucking boner every time Fenris starts his disappearing light act?

He has plenty of opportunity to find out because they run into someone who Fenris knows. A woman who tormented him, and the smell coming from her is just blood magic. It’s a brutal fight and the bitterness of the blood magic distracts Anders enough from Fenris’ scent. Anders needs all his tricks to fight her evil magic. At last, Fenris pulls out her heart, and Anders bites the inside of his cheek to cover his body’s reaction.

There is some yelling, Fenris saying something about magic spoiling everything, but Anders can’t pay attention. He can only stare, willing his cock to calm the fuck down.

Hawke puts her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m sure he didn’t mean it that way.”

“Ehm, yeah, sure.” Anders pretends to search for a potion in his bag, pulling the edge of his coat over his crotch. Grand Cleric Elthina on a donkey, I cannot not fuck him.

“What did you say?” Hawke asks.

“Nothing. I gotta go.” 

The door to Fenris’ mansion is not locked. “Fenris?” he calls as he goes inside.

“What do you want, mage?” Fenris’ tone is less aggressive than he expected.

“Are you alright?” 

“What does it matter to you?”

“It matters, you prickly bastard.” He takes a breath as he steps closer, smelling blood and lyrium. “Where are you hurt?” 

Fenris stares at the floor, his hands twitching, until he finally takes his armor off. At his side, just below his ribs, blood trickles down. He looks at Anders. “How did you know?”

“Blood has a smell and I have a good nose.” Anders steps closer, taking a bottle of clear spirit and a clean bandage from his bag. “I have to clean that and if you let me, I can heal the cut.” 

“Do it.” 

Fenris’ eyes never leave him as he works. This close, his scent is even stronger. 

“What are you doing?” 

Only now Anders realizes that he closed his eyes, still breathing in Fenris’ scent. The healing is done and he takes a step back. “Sorry, you smell really good.”

Fenris’ eyes narrow. “I smell?”

“Of lyrium,” Anders hurries to say. There is no good way to have this conversation, so he just runs on. “Lyrium smells nice, attractive to mages. Sorry, that’s probably not something you wanted to know. I’m just gonna go.” He turns to leave, but Fenris’ hand closes around his arm like a vise. 

“I already knew that. What are you going to do about this now?” There is something different in Fenris’ voice, something that makes Anders feel protective.

“Do? Nothing. Why should I do something?” 

Fenris’ grip loosens on his arm. “Danarius wanted me to be enticing, he made me spread my scent around to —”

“Eww, fuck, that sick bastard, yuck.” Anders grabs an open wine bottle from the table and takes a big gulp. “Well, that killed all that. I’m just —”

Like a blinding white wraith, Fenris glows. Anders is instantly hard. 

“Fuck.” Anders quickly turns to hide his raging boner. He has to get out, before Fenris realizes what happened and rightfully kills him. Glass shattering behind him stops his escape. As he turns, the smell of fresh blood hits him. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Blood drips from Fenris’ hand, in the other hand a broken bottle. “Heal me.” He holds his hand out, glaring at Anders.

“Sure.” Ignoring the tightness in his pants, Anders goes back to Fenris, calling on his magic to remove glass shards from Fenris’ hand, before he heals the cut. It’s a deep cut, he needs to focus to realign the layers. “Whatever did you do that for?”

A sound like a whimper comes from Fenris. Anders looks up. Fenris’ cheeks are red, the tips of his ears nearly glow and his breath comes in short pants. Anders’ second look goes down to Fenris’ pants, noticing a very clear bulge. “My healing?”

“Yes.” Fenris wraps his fingers around Anders’ hand and pulls him closer. “My lyrium?” 

His markings glow, the scent of thunderstorm filling Anders’ senses. He falls forward against Fenris’ shoulder with a shudder. “Yes.”

Fenris pulls him closer, his hard cock pressing against Anders’. He whispers into his ears, “I don’t know if I can be gentle.”

Anders lets his magic flow, his fingertips glowing with electricity. “I don’t want you to.” 

Fenris gasps and the air crackles like thunder and lighting.

[cheerysmores]

You will come back

Pairing: Lavellen (Brinni) x Cullen Rutherford

Rating: E

Word count: 2.3K

AO3 link

A birthday gift for my lovely moot @weaveandwood featuring her inquisitor Brinni! (Thanks for lending me a screenshot)

***

“Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond. For there is no darkness in the Maker’s light and nothing He has wrought shall be lost.”

The prayer comes to Cullen as easily as breathing. He repeats it, watching another candle in front of Andraste’s statue burn down to nothing. It scarcely matters. So many now crowd her that the air in this small room shudders with the heat. A few weeks back, some well meaning soul had decided to light one here for each person lost to their cause. He tries not to think about how many more they’ll need when he gives their next order, if any amount of gold and wax could make up for what Corpypheus’ forces might do to their own.

Or if there was anything under the Maker’s sky that could make up for what Corypheus might do to the one person that can stop him.

Cullen adjusts his knees, trying to focus on the words. Once they were a taught ritual, something to soften the losses that so often came with Templar life. They’d spilled from his lips without thinking as he watched Haven burn, then disappear completely in a roar of snow and lyrium-red magic. After that, he didn’t think he’d have anything left to lose. It’s both wonderful and cruel how wrong he turned out to be.

“A prayer for you?” Brinni’s voice calls softly behind him.

He smiles as he turns. She’s leaning in the doorway, skin flushed from the cold and her boots still damp from wherever she’s been hiking. He can picture her wandering the perimeter of the castle, green eyes bright as she meticulously scours the snow for animal tracks. Even with so many of their guests remarking how the Inquisitor need not do such a thing, he knows she needs the time. Walls of any size can still feel like a cage.

“It is,” he answers, rising to his feet. “One for those we have lost. And those I am afraid to lose.”

“Do you really think talking to the Maker will help?”

Cullen closes the space between them, turning away from Andraste’s looming gaze. “I may have questioned it at times, but I have found comfort in faith when life offered little.” It’s a truth growing thinner by the day. Sometimes, he wants to believe as he did when he was a younger man, one still blinded by duty and ignorance. At least then his prayers felt like something real rather than leaves thrown to the wind.

He brushes the side of her face, stopping at the gentle point of her ear. “Corypheus will retaliate, it’s only a matter of time. And then you will be thrown into his path again.” His fingers tense. “Andraste preserve me, I must send you to him.”

“Send me or not, I’m going either way. Besides, I have luck on my side, remember?” His gifted coin suddenly appears between her fingers. She throws it in the air, catching it without looking.

He chuckles at her smirk. “That’s… less comforting than I’d hoped.”

“Hey, I’m trying here.”

He pulls her into his arms, inhaling the smell of snow and earth from her soft white hair. It’s a familiar scent now, the same one that clings to his pillow on the nights she can steal away to his bed. He winds a lock around his finger and draws it closer. It’s not enough. He wants to know what it smells like damp from summer rain, warm from an inn’s hearth, somewhere far away from titles and monsters and those damn rips in the sky.

“Whatever happens you will come back,” he whispers.

“Cullen, you don’t have to–”

He brushes her bottom lip. “Please, allow me this. To believe anything else would… I can’t.”

She nods against his shoulder but says nothing more. He watches her in his arms, making a memory of the way the candles flicker in her eyes. It’s not his favourite view of her, that belongs to the moments she’s resting above him, pink and smiling and lit like the divine by the sunlight spilling through the hole above his bed.

No candle could represent that. No candle will ever need to.

She leans up to murmur against his ear. “Will you come to my chambers tonight?”

He chuckles again, twisting to kiss her forehead. “The day I say no to that question is the day I’ve been kicked in the head by one of the Inquisition’s horses.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

His mouth follows the pale branches of her vallaslin until it rests against her lips. There’s one prayer still warm on his tongue as she kisses back, one he’ll repeat every moment he can until his devotion might will it into existence.

Maker, please. Don’t take her before me.

***

Tonight, he wants to be slow. There are precious few moments left before she has to depart and he’d very much like to spend them savouring every sweet curve and breath and kiss that he can. That all goes out the window the moment he reaches Brinni’s room.

He’s barely away from the stairs before she’s leaping from her bed and pressing her lips to his. She swallows his surprised gasp, hooking her hands into his cloak and manoeuvring them both across the floor.

“Vhenan.”

The word is poetry even as she mumbles it against his mouth. He grasps her waist, trying to gentle the bite of her passion but she doesn’t slow. Her hands are already everywhere, scrabbling at his breastplate, his gloves, the fur of his mantle. Nothing comes loose. She punctuates her frustration between kisses. “Why. Come. In. All. This.”

“Appearances,” he breathes as she finally moves her head, eyes hunter-focussed on the ties of his armour. His answer tastes of a lie, but the truth is something he’ll keep to himself a while longer. He likes watching her take it off.

The first time she’d been gentle, reverent even. He’d let himself get lost in the meadow of her eyes as she removed the pieces, softly touching each stretch of new skin until he was burning for her. The times after depended on how much of her patience had been worn down by the day’s work. After one particularly painful dinner with a gaggle of Orlesian nobles she’d come to his room, cut all the ties with a dagger and laid down on his desk before he’d even had time to ask. The armourer had been tactful enough not to comment the next morning but his eyes kept flicking to and from Cullen’s neck like he was scared to look at it. He didn’t realise why until he went to shave and saw a rosy bruise in the shape of Brinni’s mouth blooming well above his collar.

He presses her face into the same spot now, silently begging her to give him another. He doesn’t care if people whisper, he wants it to stay there, dark and throbbing, until she’s fought, won and returned.

Piece by piece the steel of the Commander clatters around them. A satisfied hum rumbles through her and into him when he’s finally stripped down to his undershirt. He pushes them both onto her bed, her hair fanning out like a tangle of moonlight as she lands. He takes a moment, just one, to trace the plump curve of her mouth. He feels her breath against his thumb, a warm reminder that she’s alive, safe.

Her face softens slightly and she touches the scar on his lip. “I’m right here,” she whispers, guiding his hand to the tie of her robe. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

He tugs it open, swallowing when he finds her completely naked underneath. She frees herself from the rest of the fabric, the flush of her cheeks spilling over her breasts as she lays back down. A dozen times he’s stripped her bare and a dozen times the sight has made him feel like some fumbling maid. He kisses her ear, lightly brushing his knuckle over the white curls of hair between her legs until she sighs and shivers under him.

She arches her back when his lips find her nipple. He licks the rosy peak, his arm soft around her back to pull her closer. Her nails rake through his hair as he moves to the other. He kisses, sucks, rubs with the roughness of his unshaven shadow until her chest heaves, red and wanting.

Some mixture of elven and his name spills from her lips like a song. He only catches a few of the words. His grasp of her language may falter between her legs but the sound of her want is something he couldn’t forget even if he tried.

He brushes her throat, feels the bob of her moan as his knee presses against her heat. Maker she’s already so wet. His fingers slip across the sheets, scrambling for purchase. He pauses when they brush something sharp under her pillow.

“Brinni, is that a knife?” He pulls it free and stares at the blade now clasped between his hands. It’s little, but he’d seen her take down bigger men than him with much smaller blades.

She laughs as she takes it from him. “Ah I forgot to move it this time. Call me paranoid but you can never be too careful.”

“You must know I’d never let anyone get anywhere close enough.”

She kisses his forehead. “I know. It just… it makes me feel better. I did it back home, back with my clan. I never wanted to be caught short.”

Her eyes are soft, the same way they always are when she speaks of her Clan. He knows she dreams of returning. She’d whispered it between his shoulder blades more than once in the long shadows before dawn. She’d said nothing when he’d asked if she’d want to stay with them, if that’s where she saw her home after all this. After she’d left, he’d thought about what home might look like for him when the war finally ends. A ceiling without holes, a bed she doesn’t have to sneak out of at the rooster's first crow, perhaps a lake– his imagination always falters after that.

He puts his hand over hers. “I think you will be fine for one night.”

She nods and throws it with practised grace into a wooden board on the other side of her room. She smiles at his impressed hum and crawls into his lap.

“Now, where were we,” she murmurs, sliding her hands into his trousers.

It’s a while before coherent words are heard between the walls of the Inquisitor's chambers again.

Their lovemaking is a slick, desperate blur. She arches under him with each messy thrust, her fingernails digging crescents into his back. He runs through the chant of light over and over in his head, desperate not to tip over, to make this last as long as his body will let him.

He slips his hand between them, seeking the swollen pearl of her clit. She cries out louder as he rubs her, the sounds running off the walls like rain. Her window is open behind them. Anyone wandering close enough on the ramparts could hear. The thought stirs something hotter in him, possessive, almost ugly. Perhaps the modesty of Templar life had made him greedy, owning nothing beyond what the Circle gave him, not even his body– that was used then broken trying to defend something he isn’t even sure he believes in now. In these sweet moments, he’s free, loved, anyone he wants to be.

And he wants to be hers.

She finishes with another gasp of his name. Her thighs clamp around his waist as he follows, holding him there like she never wants him to let go. He runs his hand down the firm muscle of her leg.

He won’t. Not ever. Not if she asks him to.

They’re quiet after. It’s an easy silence, a moment to take comfort amongst the smells of sweat and sex. She lies on her front, eyes closed while he slowly brushes her arm. He stops at the blackened tip of her finger, wondering if she’d stained it while writing. She’s always voracious in her mission reports, but it’s the ones she writes just for him that has him jumping out of his seat each time he sees a raven. Words of love, of lust, elven pet names written in her flowing script so he can almost feel her next to him when he reads them.

He strokes the back of her hand.

The thought of losing her, having nothing left but parchment and ink in his desk—

He shakes his head.

No. Not now. Not tonight.

She opens her eyes as he pushes a few messy white strands from her face. “What is it, vhenan?”

He picks up her hand and softly kisses each finger. “You’re going to come back.”

He’s seen what she can do on the training ground and the battlefield. She’s fast with her blades, almost invisible on the wind. It’s enough. It has to be.

She shuffles forward, lightly running her hand through his curls. “Is that an order, Commander?”

“No, but as one of your advisors I strongly suggest it.”

She laughs, sweet as a lovebird's trill. “If you say so. And it’s probably a good thing we are not departing for a few days. After that I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk straight.”

He winds his arms around her. “I love you.” He wants to say it a thousand times more, whisper away any doubt, any fear she has. If he cannot be with her there, then he’ll be her strength here. And then when they finally leave this all behind they can shed the weight of these blasted titles. No more Inquisitor and Commander. Just Brinni and Cullen.

His heart swells. That’s what home sounds like.

She buries her face into the breadth of his chest, kissing directly over the thrum of his heart. “And I love you too. Always.”

[teecupangel]

Okay, I just saw the alt Alt prompt, and now I'm thinking that further on, Desmond might join forces... With the youngest member of the Templar knights, Vieri de Pazzi.

I’m gonna be honest with you, nonny. I don’t know which alt Alt idea you mean so we’ll focus on Desmond joining forces with Vieri.

To be more accurate, he didn’t join forces with Vieri. He joined forces with Jacopi because he’s not just trying to save the Auditore, he’s trying to save the Medici to ensure the Auditore wouldn’t get involved with all the backstabbing political drama that, really, Assassins shouldn’t be front and center of.

He figured Jacopi is the most reasonable of them and could be persuaded to fuck the Templars.

Jacopi, on the other hand, has other plans. If he’s going to betray the Templars because some strange man tells him that the end result would be the death of many of his kin then he wants some ‘assistance’.

They form a deal.

Jacopi spies for Desmond and gives him valuable information he can use to get the Templars and their allies arrested.

No assassination and there must be no clue that Desmond is an Assassin.

In exchange, Desmond is asked to babysit Vieri.

Well, Jacopi asked Desmond to tutor Vieri but it’s babysitting, let’s be honest.

This would be set 3 years before the Auditore Execution so Vieri’s still younger than he was when Desmond was first introduced to him but he’s already a little shit. Honestly, if Desmond didn’t see how nice he was to his siblings and how he was truly loyal to their family, he would have long just went ‘fuck it’ and burned the Pazzi de Palazzo to the ground.

But he starts to get used to their company.

He starts to care for the Pazzi children.

And Vieri…

Vieri can be an adorable kid if he wanted to.

.

Of course, Desmond doesn’t know that Vieri pretty much has a crush on him and he is absolutely jealous of how Desmond seemed to think highly of that idiot Ezio Auditore.

Ezio, on the other hand, doesn’t even know Desmond exists (which Desmond is doing on purpose)

#i placed this before the start of ac2, because if this was after the auditore execution, there’s a looootttt of asspull we’ll have to make, for desmond to even think, yeah, he’ll join forces with vieri, out of all the pazzi, jacopi is the one that desmond would probably think, that they could come to an agreement,

[ducktales-and-ducks]

The “canonical” last story about Scrooge’s life is one of the best ones I’ve ever read.

There are many reasons why this comic deserves such position in my opinion:

The way the family solve the mystery with the most clever clues and deductions is so fascinating.

Fergus decision to hide one of the family’s biggest secrets to only Scrooge is perfect and completely justified.

How the most epic treasure ever, Knight’s Templar treasure was the perfect way to close this series.

The implication that Scrooge was one chamber away to be a multimillionaire since the day he was born is an amazing and fitting plot twist.

The moment Scrooge finally let his inner armors fall and reveal why he does what he does to her sister is so cathartic and feels like something I’ve ever wanted to hear from him.

How he finally got the only thing he really wanted all these years from his now opened heart. His sister’s forgiveness.

I can mention a lot more, but the one I like the most above all, is that Scrooge finally accepted that even with all the money he got and collected in his giant money bin, he only felt really rich when Donald, Huey, Dewey and Louie entered his life. He finally understood that the biggest treasure in life was in front of him since his very first day. That treasure is his family.

It’s been a whole enjoyment reading all both volumes of The Complete Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck. His life of the real personification of the American Dream. If comics get a hall of fame, this story surely is there ❤️