#jaraks fic

[adrianelinerush]

[fic][Putra] : "Somebody I Used to Know" (2012)

996 words. Bahasa Indonesia. Tanggal publish Apr 19, 2012.  iya judulnya dari lagunya Gotye. Ini tuh kutulis waktu galau memilih diantara dua besan RP. Halah. gambar: Hera M. Parameshwari

Di kafe itu, pemuda berambut coklat duduk sambil menatap keluar jendela, melamun sementara ekor mata mengikuti lalu lalang manusia yang lewat di seberang jalan. Kafe itu bergaya country, dengan furnitur serba kayu dan lantai kayu juga. Tanaman-tanaman hias yang ditempel di partisi ternyata asli, ada cermin di konter depan yang menghadirkan ilusi bahwa kafe itu dua kali lipat luas aslinya dan lega. Hari belum terlalu siang, hanya orang-orang yang telat sarapan yang masih duduk mengisi meja. Terlihat dari balik kaca bahwa kendaraan bermotor hanya lewat satu dua. Sambil menunggu pesanannya diantar, pikiran Putra ikut mengembara ke tempat yang hanya-Tuhan-tahu-dimana.

Lantas tercium aroma khas tanda pesanan kopinya datang. Namun agaknya pramusaji yang mengantar belum cakap dengan pekerjaannya. Ia tersandung kakinya sendiri, menumpahkan cangkir yang dibawanya. Long black menciprat ke segala arah.

Bercak hitam besar membekas di ujung celana Putra, menyisakan noda. Sementara pramusaji dengan gugup membungkuk-bungkuk dan meminta maaf, Putra setengah hati menghiraukannya. Biji matanya terfokus pada bercak noda kopi itu, berpikir betapa mirip analogi noda itu dengan cerita miliknya. Pada zaman dahulu, di sebuah SMA yang siswanya semua laki-laki...

Putra menepis pikiran itu. Sangat cengeng rasanya menggalau pagi-pagi, mengingatkannya akan lagu-lagu picisan di tanah air dimana penyanyinya meraung-raung karena tidak diacuhkan lawan jenis. Putra tidak habis pikir apa yang dipikirkan produsen dan artisnya saat mereka memproduksi lagu macam itu. Tapi mungkin tidak sepenuhnya salah mereka juga, bagaimanapun ada gula ada semut, kan, tidak mungkin ada penawaran (dari produsen) kalau tidak ada permintaan (dari pasar). Itu hukum ekonomi yang paling dasar.

--'di fakultas ekonomi ternama', demikian pemuda berambut pirang itu memberi tahu. Putra menatapnya heran. Lantas kenapa? Apa lawan bicaranya itu berharap Putra masuk universitas yang sama? Ha ha. Masuk universitas bahkan bukan pilihan nomor satu di daftar apa yang ingin dilakukannya pasca kelulusan. Apalagi level universitas yang disebut barusan luar biasa prestisiusnya. Tapi sepasang mata hijau itu menatap Putra dengan tatap penuh kesungguhan, membuat Putra tidak jadi mentertawakannya...

Pramusaji menjanjikan kopi lain sebagai ganti, dan meminta kartu nama supaya dia tahu bisa kemana dia mengirim pakaian hasil laundry. Pupil matanya mengecil, kelihatan sangat panik, jangan-jangan takut Putra melaporkan servis yang tidak memuaskan ini pada managernya. Putra yang awalnya tidak acuh jadi jengkel juga. "Sungguh, saya tidak apa-apa," tolak Putra sambil menepis tangan pramusaji itu yang sepertinya ngotot ingin melucuti kemejanya yang juga bernoda. Pramusaji itu membungkuk lagi dan berlalu dengan berisik. Kibasan celemek putih tertangkap ujung matanya, dan Putra ingat--

--kemeresak suara bahan kain kostum maid. Senior yang hanya setahun lebih tua itu bergeser sedikit kearah Putra, membuat jarak diantara mereka semakin sempit, bahu mereka bersentuhan. Ia memeluk lengan kiri Putra, kemudian menyandarkan kepalanya pada bahu pemuda itu.

Putra berjengit, tubuhnya tegang. Lagi-lagi. Kedekatan ini makin tidak wajar untuk ukuran "teman". Tapi kenapa ada bagian dirinya yang membiarkan orang di sebelahnya ini bertindak seenaknya? Bukankah ia benci disentuh? Bukankah ia seharusnya menjauh dari orang ini? Bukannya Putra harusnya mempertahankan jarak diantara dirinya dan senpai berambut ungu ini??

"Suka..." Ucapnya pelan. Pelan saja, tapi sukses membuat Putra membisu.

Cangkir kopi berisi long black itu masih mengepul meski isinya terbuang separuh. Uap kopi membumbung dan menghilang, begitu subtil, begitu... nisbi? Putra kesulitan mencari padanan kata yang tepat sementara lagi-lagi, ingatan yang ingin ditepisnya membanjir menjajah pikirannya yang sedang mengawang-awang. Apa yang terjadi selama dua tahun belakangan? Perempuan dengan nama kupu-kupu itu ternyata tidak seperti yang diduganya, dan dirinya, yang mewarisi darah perempuan itu, baru menyadari setelah semuanya terlambat. Sangat terlambat.

"Kalau aku mati nanti, tolong kremasi dan buang abuku ke laut," demikian wasiatnya, di ranjang serba putih berbau disinfektan. Betapa berbeda imej wanita di depan matanya itu dengan imej yang selalu disimpannya di kepala, pikir Putra. Wanita itu tidak pernah sekurus, selemah itu, dengan mata cekung dan kulit menguning--tidak ada lagi rambut yang panjang tebal. Pipinya yang menonjol dengan jelas memperlihatkan kontur tulang wajah di baliknya. Putra tersenyum. Getir. Betapa kita pasangan ibu dan anak yang bodoh, sama-sama keras kepala mengakui kesalahan masing-masing, betapa kita sama-sama kikuk mengungkapkan perasaan sayang itu, pikir Putra sambil menautkan jemarinya ke tangan sekurus ranting kayu.

"Kami berdua mengalami masa kecil yang tidak terbayangkan, saat itu nama ibumu bukan Ageha, dan namaku bukan Arashi." pamannya menjelaskan, berdiri di pinggir ranjang di sebelah jendela yang tirainya tetap tertutup. "Selanjutnya, seperti yang kamu tahu, ibumu menjadi seorang misandry."

Perempuan bernama kupu-kupu yang kabur dari sangkarnya, bertemu gaijin dari tanah ribuan pulau; berhasil memaafkan dirinya sendiri dan melahirkan anak laki-laki bermata cokelat. Tapi sihir itu ternyata tidak bertahan lama, pasca bersalin perempuan bernama kupu-kupu didera ketakutan dirinya tidak akan menjadi ibu yang baik, dan bahwa suaminya kelak akan luntur perasaannya pada dirinya, mulai mengabaikan putranya. Bagaimana rasanya hidup di dunia delusi selama belasan tahun? Pemuda bernama Mugetsu Takaharu itulah hasilnya.

Kenapa kita harus mengalami segala salah paham yang tidak perlu itu? Jika salah paham bisa dihindari, maka mungkin tidak perlu masuk sekolah khusus laki-laki Shiroi Gakuin, tidak perlu bertemu pemuda bermata hijau yang berusaha menaklukkannya secara paksa, tidak perlu menepis kasar seniornya yang bermata ungu, tidak perlu mengalami malam-malam penuh ketakutan dan kegelisahan, mempertanyakan identitasnya sendiri. Mempertanyakan preferensinya sendiri. Menolak ibu kandungnya sendiri. Jika relasi itu diibaratkan bola kaca, maka bola kaca miliknya jelas-jelas sudah pecah berserakan.

Pramusaji yang menumpahkan kopi muncul lagi dengan pria paruh baya yang berjalan duluan (Putra menebak itu pasti bossnya, mungkin manajer kafe ini). Pria berkacamata itu--seperti pegawainya yang bercelemek--lagi-lagi mengungkapkan penyesalannya betapa ceroboh pegawainya. Sang manajer bahkan membawakan paket, isinya setelan kemeja, celana denim baru, dan kupon makan gratis di kafe tersebut. Ia mempersilakan Putra menggunakan kamar mandi di lantai dua untuk mengganti pakaiannya. Tetek bengek basa-basi itu sedikit banyak mengganggunya, sehingga supaya segala cecaran itu berhenti, pemuda bermata cokelat itu mengangguk, tersenyum formal, dan berterima kasih. Ia berjalan patuh di belakang pegawai ceroboh yang sama ke kamar mandi lantai dua.

Sambil menaiki tangga Putra bertanya-tanya apakah celana denim warna khaki layak dipadankan dengan dasi hitam dan jas hitam, kostum untuk menghadiri persemayaman terakhir ibunya yang bernama kupu-kupu.

[jarakrisafis]

First chapter of the long awaited dwarven fic is begun. Much love to @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold​ for working on this with me. Here’s to us managing to add even more tags as we keep writing. Title: Gambits and Countergambits Chapters: 1/51 (Smut chapters marked with *) Words: 3667 Ship: Female Aeducan/Gorim Saelac, Bhelen Aeducan/Rica Brosca, Bhelen Aeducan/Rica Brosca/Vartag Gavorn, Bhelen Aeducan & Female Aeducan & Trian Aeducan Rating: E Additional Tags: Orzammar Culture and Customs, Orzammar (Dragon Age), Dwarf Culture & Customs, Caste Differences, Forbidden Relationships, Sibling RivalryProtective Siblings, Good siblings, neglectful parent, Bhelen Positive, Pre-Dragon Age: Origins, Explicit Sexual Content, Gangbang, Triple Penetration, Double Penetration in One Hole, Full Body Impact Play, Dubious Consent, Enthusiastic Consent, Flogging, Nipple Clamps, Verbal Humiliation, Partner Sharing (without consent), BDSM dynamics (no safeword), BDSM dynamics (safe & sane), listen one couple plays fast and loose the other one doesn't, Dom/sub, Sexual Punishment, Predicament Bondage, Anal toys, Sex Toys, Blindfolds, Gags, Sex Work, Aftercare, Rope Bondage, Knifeplay, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Collars, Leashes, Attempted Sexual Assault, Orzammar is not a nice place, Angst, Mutual Pining, Other additional tags to ne added as needed

Summary: Things are going well in Orzammar. Up to a point.

Sereda Aeducan has finally settled into life with her Second, Gorim Saelac, and the rules he’s set for their unconventional relationship. The popular Princess only has one objective, to become a Warrior fit to defend Orzammar, and she’s not about to let anyone endanger that or her home. Not even her own family.

Bhelen Aeducan finally finds his match in a casteless noble hunter while trying to untangle a political scheme with his Second, Vartag Gavorn. While his siblings bicker, Bhelen begins to understand the rot deep at the center of Orzammar’s society and the threats lurking just outside their door. If only he could make his own family listen to him.

Both siblings and their partners have to come to terms with their place in society and life as a royal in the cutthroat assembly. Orzammar politics, BDSM sex, and danger come together to create one hell of a story.

Or in other words, Fine Dwarven Fic, set Pre-Origins! AO3 link

[jarakrisafis]

Once again, Jarak steals Manka’s post rather than wrestle with tumblr...

More dwarf fic? Yes please. From me and @jarakrisafis - 

Title: Gambits and Countergambits Chapter Title:  Pawn Serves Prince 2: The Dwarven Boogaloo

Chapters: 4/51  (Smut chapters marked with *) Words: 20,907 Ship: Female Aeducan/Gorim Saelac, Bhelen Aeducan/Rica Brosca, Bhelen Aeducan/Rica Brosca/Vartag Gavorn, Bhelen Aeducan & Female Aeducan & Trian Aeducan Rating: E Chapter Specific Notes/Tags: Injury/Treatment of Injury, Alcoholism, Discussion of Sex Work

Summary: Rica Brosca thinks she’ll never see Prince Bhelen Aeducan again after saving his life. Imagine her surprise when he shows up in Dust Town.

Read on AO3

“Not found a cock good enough for ya yet?”

“Hello mother.”

Rica doesn’t miss a beat as she slams the front door closed, steps over the bottle rolling on the floor, and sweeps through to the other room.

“You fuckin’ ignorin’ me?”

“That obvious, is it?” she yells back.

She’s just spent several hours in a tavern full of wandering hands and lewd offers she certainly didn’t want to take up. There’s a line rapidly approaching and if she crosses it there’s a chance one of mother’s wine bottles will be jammed somewhere unpleasant.

“Don’t sass me!”

Rica peers back around the old sack they use as a divider and snorts as mother manages to get about a handspan off her chair before collapsing back into it. This is one of her bad days then.

“Why don’t you have another drink while I get changed?”

She probably shouldn’t encourage her. But Rica can tell she’s only a little way from passing out, and that will make things much calmer.

Faren doesn’t have anywhere near Rica’s patience, after all.

[swtorramblings]

DS Comment: You think this proves anything?

You know, I would happily retreat into my relatively happy Vaylin lives and optionally the family somewhat reconciles AU’s, and maybe finally move on to original stuff or at least fics not involving the Tiralls, but I just... keep... SEEING... these things!

I’ve seen this one quite a few times: “But Vaylin doesn’t change, even after she frees herself, even after you free her in the mindscape. That proves...” Well, it apparently proves some kind of point. And Arcann generally comes up as a counterpoint, somehow.

Rest under the cut. Sorry app users.

Let’s look at that for a moment. By freeing herself, does my hypothetical speaker (since this is not a direct quote of anyone, more of a pastiche) actually think that what Jarak did in any way “freed” her? Perhaps of the command phrase, and I guess it “freed” her power (arguable, since you still basically just walk up to her and shoot her or, worse, impale her), but it looked like just more torture to me. And it certainly didn’t “free” her of the brainwashing and trauma, but added to it.

Yes, you free her in the mindscape, and she doesn’t seem much changed. If you decided to kill a mother for wanting to save her son, she never does. And if you did that, not to put to fine a point on it, neither does Arcann. She sides with you because you’re a monster, too.

If Arcann is alive, though, you can ask him to talk to her. and he speaks of their childhood, and her face softens. She goes right back to rage, but she still has that moment, and she still sides with you. She believes that you will help her be free, finally, even after everything, even if it’s only the freedom to die.

And if you talk to her yourself, she says, “Choice. I could get used to that”. For me, that tells me everything I needed to know about her life. Perhaps she had some, I’m not trying to just ignore her crimes, but after active brainwashing and mind control, it always looked to me like she had little agency. She was always Valkorion’s tool, what he made her to be. And we’re forced to make it worse, not better. We’re not even allowed to try. But she sides with us because we finally gave her that chance, however briefly.

So, no, she doesn’t change because of magical effects. That’s true. She changes, however little, when you finally actually help her, and then talk to her like a human being rather than a serial villain. When you’re not giving her some useless platitude, or telling her she can’t be saved, or using her command phrase on her. Go figure. Just a shame it had to be after you’d already played impale the abuse victim. I have to wonder how the story might go if she were treated that way regularly instead of one time at the end of her story.

If allowed to do that before, and she rejected it and still tried to bring our headquarters down, still decided to burn worlds, whatever, I wouldn’t like the story. It’s still associating her trauma and illness and whatnot with that evil, and I think that is both trite (yes, more trite than being able to save her) and actively harmful. But it wouldn’t have been any worse than any other similar story. She’s an active threat, she’s committed horrible crimes, I could let that go. 

This? Every time I see someone argue about how it was a good story, when I look at how we’re forced to side with her abuser, even speaking lines that would have been perfect coming from his mouth, and all for his pathetically transparent plan that had to have killed at least thousands so that he could obtain her power after we actively goaded her down that path and then kill her for him, it makes my skin crawl.

[profewriting]

Perception

—TachiJin, NSFW, PWP, Indonesian fic, completed

Tanya itu menyambar sang Pencipta Scorpion lebih cepat dari tebasan kogetsu. Sejenak, sudut bibirnya turun sempurna, membuka tanpa mengeluarkan sepatah kata. Pada detik ketiga, sebuah senyum terbit di bibir Jin, tarikannya sepalsu janji politikus hingga mendegupkan jantung Tachikawa seketika—sadar ia telah mendapatkan headshot dalam sekali tembak.

“Eehh?” Nada dalam tanya itu laiknya penipu, tetapi Jin menolak menjatuhkan topengnya hanya karena sandiwaranya telah terbuka. Panggungnya baru saja dimulai dan ia lebih dari menerima jika Tachikawa berambisi meluluhlantakkan seluruh prediksinya. “Apa iya, ya?”

Kontradiksi dengan tanyanya yang terdengar naif, tangannya justru kembali melepaskan kaosnya, menjatuhkannya tak jauh dari kakinya. Bibirnya membentuk senyum miring, hampir mencekat napas sang Attacker Nomor Satu. Tungkainya melangkah mundur, membiarkan punggungnya menyentuh dinding keramik, masih tanpa mengalihkan pandang dari lawan bicaranya.

Tantangan.

Tachikawa menyeringai, lebih dari bersemangat untuk mengambil umpan yang dilempar Jin buatnya. Kakinya sontak menyapu seluruh jarak yang memisahkan mereka, lantas mencium lelaki di hadapannya penuh hasrat.

Link

[jarakrisafis]

They’re perfect and I love them to bits Knight. And since you asked... Duran blinks, shaking his head with a grumble. The cut above his eye hasn’t stopped bleeding yet and it’s getting rather irritating. Beside him Faren shifts so he’s got a better grip on Duran’s armour as they limp through the halls together.

“I hope you’re aware Rica and Varya are going to kill us anyway.” He mutters, wincing as they get to the first steps from the Commons to the Diamond Quarter.

Faren falters for a very short heartbeat, “We’ll be fine.”

Duran snorts. Then coughs. Blasted ribs, he’s pretty sure at least one of them is cracked underneath his armour. And of course Faren’s not got his handy pouch of potions on him given they weren’t going anywhere dangerous.

Last time they came back looking like this Rica had torn Faren into little strips and Varya had glared so hard Duran was sure something (possibly him) was going to spontaneously combust. She at least had been polite enough to wait until they’d healed before making her displeasure known. And neither Bhelen or Gorim had lifted a finger to stop their wives of course, sodding cowards.

Okay, so that was a little unfair. They’re all cowards when the women get angry.

“Faren, Varya chased me round the Proving grounds with a skillet.” Duran points out. There had been a lot of open mouths as they watched the surfacer turned Noble Lady from House Aeducan chase one of the Paragons round the sand while her husband (and Duran’s alleged second, the traitor) watched and laughed. It wasn’t something that you saw everyday.

“So, we just don’t let them see.” Faren says brightly as he uses his free hand to open the door into the Royal Palace. It’s blissfully empty. Well, there's guards and servants, but they don't count.

“Good morning brothers.” Bhelen says breezily, crown slightly askew as he wanders past them without looking up from his stack of papers.

A step behind him Vartag gives them a quick glance before abruptly halting about three steps further on and spinning back with an incredulous expression on his face, “what in the Ancestors name have you done this time?”

“Nothing,” Faren says quickly, “Why ever would you ask that?”

Bhelen pads back, one hand tilting his crown back up as he runs his eyes over them both, “you only went to the Smith Quarter to order some more armour for the Warden outpost.”

“We’re fine,” Faren says, casting a quick worried glance up the hallway for any female members of their house, “Never been better.” He holds up one thumb as they start moving again, before recalling that’s a surface gesture and turning it into the dwarven sign for ‘all’s good’.

“I see.” Bhelen says dryly.

Faren’s grin only gets bigger as he tosses over his shoulder, “Oh by the way, dearest brother, if a group of young Nobles say they were jumped in a dark alley, it’s brontoshit. They did the jumping and they lost.”

Duran would smirk if his teeth weren’t gritted tightly against the pain that’s steadily getting worse as the battle-fever wears off when he hears the sigh Bhelen makes. “Initiating the vote to make you two Paragons was the worst decision I ever made.”

a commission for @jarakrisafis  Duran, Faren, what did you Wardens get up to…?

[hitorikkotwins-blog]

Mumu’s Effect

Mumu’s Effect

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For my beloved, Park Ricat.

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/with love//byupiyuu.

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Park Ricat

Byu Piyuu

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Warning! Ricat, Uke! Piyu,Seme! wkwkwk.

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Happy 2nd Monthsary Baby--!

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Paginya baik-baik saja awalnya, malah ia kira  hari ini akan masuk sebagai salah satu hari libur favoritnya. Itu karena cuaca diluar sana cerah sekali, seakan-akan menarik semua orang untuk turut menikmatinya. Sayangnya, rencana Ricat untuk bersantai sambil minum-minum jus lemon di halaman belakang rumahnya gagal total. Itu karena cicak kesayangannya, Mumu, tidak bisa ia temukan di kandangnya.

“Oooh~ Oh tidak, aku yakin semalam sudah menaruhnya kembali.” Gumam Ricat panik, ketika melihat kandang Mumu yang kosong melompong tanpa pemiliknya. Lelaki manis itu mengingiti kukunya gugup, berfikir dimana kemungkinan sang cicak berada.

Tadi malam, Ricat sengaja mengeluarkan Mumu dari dalam kandangnya, karena malam itu adalah jadwal sesi curhat mereka. Setelah puas curhat tentang ini- itu sembari mengelusi Mumu yang ia bekap di dalam selimut, Ricat mengembalikan cicak tua itu kembali kedalam kandangnya.

Ia yakin seyakin-yakinnya telah memasukan Mumu kembali, lalu kenapa cicak itu bisa tidak ada?

Apa yang harus ia lakukan?

Gawat kalau Mumu hilang, ia tidak akan punya teman curhat lagi!

“Huaaaaa! Mumu kau dimanaaaa?!” Ia memekik sedih, mata bulatnya berkaca-kaca, menatap kadang Mumu dengan raut wajah terluka. Ia tidak boleh diam saja, ia harus mencari Mumu-nya sampai ketemu!

Ricat mengganguk pelan, sorot matanya berubah, jari lentiknya ia kepal lalu ia layangkan ke udara, dengan tatapan mengebu-gebu ia menyemangati dirinya sendiri.

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“Wah, cerah sih cerah, tapi aku tidak pernah menduga bisa sepanas ini.” Keluh Ricat, peluh telah membasahi sekujur tubuhnya.  Mencari seekor cicak disiang hari benar-benar jenis olahraga baru yang patut dicoba jika hendak membakar kalori. Hasilnya menakjubkan.

Setelah memutari komplek beberapa kali, ia memutuskan untuk beristirahat sejenak di taman bermain. Duduk di atas ayunan, sembari menikmati ice ceram markisa yang terpaksa ia beli karena kepanasan.

Tiba-tiba telinga perinya menangkap suara yang tidak asing, keningnya berkerut  dalam, mencoba mengenali suara apa itu.

OH!

“MUMU!” Pekiknya nyaring, buru-buru membalikan badannya, melihat ke sumber suara. Dan pekikannya berubah menjadi sebuah teriakan ketika menemukan Mumu-nya sedang terguncang-guncang di tangan seseorang.

Cepat-cepat ia berlari kearah orang itu, sembali berteriak-teriak seperti orang kesetanan.

“OH TUHAN APA YANG KAU LAKUKAN DENGAN AN-“ tiba-tiba teriakannya terhenti, tercekat di tenggorokannya saat ia melihat rupa sosok itu.

Ricat fikir, di dunia ini mustahil ada orang yang begitu sempurna. Tapi ketika Ricat melihatnya, ia sadar ternyata selama ini ia telah salah.

Dengan style-an olahraga, bisep yang menonjol dari kaos tanpa lengan miliknya, tumbuh tinggi professional, wajah bak titisan dewa yunani , ditambah  aura kuat yang menguar dari sosoknya,  membuat Ricat merasa sedang di diktekan penggambaran nyata dari kata sempurna.

“Apa-apaan? Hewan ini milikmu?!” Tanya sosok itu, sekali lagi menguncang kuat Mumu yang ada di tangannya, membuat sang cicak terjatuh ke tanah.

Sadar akan situasi yang sebenarnya, Ricat cepat-cepat berjongkok, mengambil Mumu yang jatuh dengan penuh cinta, lalu kembali berdiri, menatap sosok dihadapannya dengan tatapan setajam mungkin, yeah, walaupun agak sulit sebenarnya. Mengingat betapa tampannya orang ini.

“Ya! Kau apakan anakku hah?! Kau yang mencuri Mumu ya? Cepat mengaku!” Tuduhnya, lelaki itu menatapnya kesal. Mengulurkan jari kelingkingnya kea rah ricat dengan geram.

“Sialan, mencuri pantatmu! Lihat apa yang hewan itu lakukan padaku, ia berusaha mengunyah jariku!” Tatapan ricat turun ke jari kelingking yang disodorkan ke orang itu kepadanya, dan meringis kecil melihat ada beberapa luka sobek disana.

Merasa bersalah, Ricat menelan ludahnya kasar. Sebelum akhirnya memaksakan senyumnya dan berkata, “Hehehe, kalau begitu, mau aku obati?”

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Jadi disinilah mereka, duduk di salah satu ujung perosotan yang ada di taman. Ricat sedang menepati tawarannya tentang mengobati jari lelaki itu walau biaya antiseptic ditanggung oleh lelaki itu sendiri- uang Ricat tidak cukup setelah dibelikan ice cream-.

Tidak seperti wajahnya yang tampak sulit di dekati, ternyata lelaki ini ramah juga. Mereka langsung masuk ke dalam percakapan tanpa ujung ketika mereka saling tahu jika keduanya memiliki banyak persamaan, salah satunya seperti sama-sama penggemar Star Wars.

“Benar, The Last Jedi akan rilis bulan ini. Tapi aku rasa aku akan menunggu sampai bisa di download saja.” Bibirnya mengerucut lucu saat Ricat mendengar ucapan lelaki itu.

“Ah, tidak seru. Padahal sensasi menonton di bioskop berbeda dengan menonton dirumah.”

Lelaki itu tersenyum kecil, tangan kirinya tanpa sadar terulur untuk mengacak surai Ricat gemas, “Kalau bagiku sih sama saja, yang berbeda itu jika aku menontonnya denganmu.”

Senyumnya tambah melebar kala melihat pipi Ricat memerah.

“Oh iya, ngomong-ngomong. Cicakmu itu, bukankah ia terlalu besar jika di sebut cicak?” Tanya lelaki itu sambil menunjuk Mumu yang sedang tidur dengan damai di pangkuan Ricat.

Ricat mengelus pelan punggung Mumu sebelum menjawab, “Tidak, Mumu masih imut bagiku.”

“Eng iya..tapi bukankah jika sebesar itu namanya tokek?”

Ricat menggeleng lucu, bibir bawahnya maju beberapa centi kedepan, menggundang untuk dikecup. “No no no! Mumu itu cicak, dia jenis cicak langka! Bukan tokek!”

“Kkkk baiklah, yaa dia cicak. Sudah lama kau merawatnya?”

“Yaa, sekitar 2 tahun. Mumu ini hadiah ulang tahunku ke 17 lho!”

“Wah iya? Kau pasti senang sekali.”

“Tentu, Mumu itu sudah ku anggap seperti anakku.”

Lelaki itu tertawa kecil,  Ricat fikir ia sudah gila karena ia tidak mau tawa itu berhenti. “Pantas saja kau begitu panik tadi.”

“Hehe iya, ngomong-ngomong aku minta maaf soal jarimu. Mumu tidak biasanya mengigit orang asing.”

“Ya haha, tidak masalah.”

Mereka larut sejenak dalam keheningan yang nyaman, taman begitu sepi siang itu, tidak biasanya anak-anak kehilangan minat mereka terhadap taman yang begitu mereka gilai, tapi siang itu, entah untuk alasan apa, mereka diam-diam berharap tidak ada orang lain yang datang.

“Ngomong-ngomong, bagaimana kau menemukannya, Mumu-ku?”

“Ah itu.” Lelaki itu menatap Ricat agak lama sebelum menjawab. “Aku sedang jogging dan tiba-tiba mendengar suaranya dari semak-semak,  suaranya berbunyi 7 kali. Kau tahu apa artinya?”

“Mumu ada disana?”

“Bukan, maksudku arti jika kita mendengar suara toke berbunyi 7 kali.”

“Hei! Mumu itu cicak!”

“Baiklah, arti jika mendengar suara cicak berbunyi 7 kali?”

“Oh..Um…Ah! Artinya kau akan melihat hantu?”

Lelaki itu tertawa lagi, kali ini juga tangannya kembali terulur, tapi bukan untuk mengacak rambut ricat, melainkan mencubit gemas pipi lelaki itu.

“Aigoo. Kau ini, terlalu banyak menonton acara uji nyali, um?”

“Ish,” Kata Ricat pura-pura kesal, “Lalu apa artinya?”

“Artinya…” Kali ini lelaki itu tersenyum kecil, Ricat baru sadar jika lelaki itu punya lesung pipit di pipi kanannya, ia tidak bisa tidak terpesona melihatnya. “Aku akan bertemu dengan jodohku.” Lelaki itu berbisik.

Pipinya memerah, tapi Ricat tidak mau terlalu percaya diri,  “Benarkah? Apa kau sungguh bertemu dengan jodohmu?”

Ricat ingin meledak saja melihat lelaki itu malah mengulum senyum, “Ya, aku rasa?”

Tidak, tidak boleh. Mana mungkin aku bisa jatuh cinta secepat ini? Batin Ricat. Lelaki dengan surai abu itu mengeleng-gelengkan kepalanya pelan, berusaha menyingkirkan berbagai fikiran tidak masuk akal yang mulai mengerayanginya.

Masih mengulum senyum, si lelaki misterius itu bertanya, “Kau tidak penasaran siapa namaku?”

Ricat tersentak, benar, bagaimana ia bisa lupa hal sepenting itu. “Benar, siapa namamu?”

Ia tidak bisa bernafas dengan benar ketika tiba-tiba saja lelaki itu mendekatkan wajahnya padanya, “ Byu, Byu Piyuu. Panggil saja sayang.”

“Ahahahaa, kau bisa saja.” Tawa Ricat, gugup.  “Baik, Piyu-ssi. Terima kasih sudah memberi tahu namamu.” Katanya lagi, berharap Piyu bisa cepat-cepat menarik wajahnya menjauh agar ia bisa bernafas kembali.

Tapi yang dilakukan lelaki itu malah sebaliknya, Piyu semakin mendekatkan wajahnya ke wajah Ricat, sampai-sampai jarak diantara mereka hanya tinggal beberapa senti saja. Kemudian, Lelaki itu berbisik.

“Mamanya Mumu, karena aku kini sudah menemukan cicakmu, dan kau sudah tahu namaku, jadi, mau jadi pacarku?”

Shit. Ia tidak boleh gila, ia tidak boleh jatuh cinta semudah ini. Sesingkat ini. Tapi…

“Ya, tentu.”  

Benar, percuma saja. Ia memang sudah gila. Gila karena lelaki ini.

Kemudian mereka benar-benar bersatu

 .

.

“Sehun-ah, bagaimana  soal tetanggamu  yang kutaksir? Kau sudah mendapat informasi tentang dia?”

“Sudah hyung, tapi sepertinya ini akan sulit.”

“Sulit? “

“Ya, dia ini agak special Hyung. Dia sepertinya tidak peduli dengan apapun kecuali dengan, ah sudahlah.”

“Kecuali dengan apa? Katakan yang jelas!”

“Kecuali dengan cicaknya hyung.”

“Apa? Cicak?”

“Ya, orang yang kau taksir itu benar-benar aneh. Ia memelihara cicak dan memperlakukan seolah cicak itu kekasihnya, aku memperhatikannya selama satu minggu dan tidak ada hari tanpa ia menciumi kepala si cicak  dengan raut penuh kasih, ewh.”

“Ah begitu..”

“Ini akan sangat sulit hyung, kau hanya akan diabaikan.”

“Benarkah ? Bagaimana jika aku punya ide?”

.

.

 Byupiyuu’s :

Wohohoho! Gimanaa yang? Suka ndaaa? Akhirnyaaaaa kkk aku bisa ukein kamu juga yang, walau Cuma di mini-fic huhu L Maaf ya sayang kalau ffnya gajelas, banyak typo juga, aku bikinnya ngebut yang, kamu tahu kan kemarin-kemarin aku ada uas, lain kali aku bikinin yang lebih bagus! Lebih matang dan gak acak-acakan dialognya yaaa kkk, tenang, nantimah aku da ukenya ><

Dan um, udah dua bulan ya ternyata kita? Waaaaaah! Gakerasa yaa? Kkk, seneng ga kamu yang selama dua bulan ini sama aku? Semoga kamu nda bosen ya aku bacotin terus, aku suruh ini itu huhu, that’s all because I love you honey. Aku gamau bacod-bacod ah aniv bulan inimah, udah keseringan nanti kamu bosen kkk. Pokonya sayang, kamu tahu kan aku sayang-yang-yang-yang-yang-yang banget sama kamu? J Aku harap rasa sayang kamu juga sama kaya rasa sayang aku ke kamu.

Makasih udah mau stay sama aku, I won’t give up on us baby. So please you too!

Kita berdua pasti pernah capek, tapi aku harap itu gak kamu jadiin alesan buat nyerah sama aku. Sama kita. Aku percaya sama kamu yang, jangan nyia-nyiain kepecayaan aku ya? I Laaab You.

From : Byu Badhai Piyu

To : Ricat jeyek yang masi suka ngeyel kalau dilarang mandi malem sama ngemilin es batu! Semoga segera disadarkan, amin.

[jarakrisafis]

I’m a day late, but alas, work waits for no man (or dwarf, kossith or elf). Tagged by @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold and @lauraemoriarty for a Fic Back Friday. I’ll confess I had absolutely no idea where to start here. Share something a year old... that didn’t actually leave much as I only really got back into writing midway through last year. So I’m going to share Erosion. It’s a short character study involving flashbacks and memories of Shayle. (It’s from my personal fix it where Caridin doesn’t punt himself into a pool of lava because fic is for fixing things). Summary: Of things long passed. Of memories lost to the stone. Of what was and what is. It remains. G rated No warnings beyond Shale’s memory issues. Excerpt: Editors Note: When I first approached Shayle to provide me with an account of what she remembers, she laughed. Obviously I knew she had only recovered some memories, the rest being more than likely permanently lost.

Upon pursuing the topic of her memory loss with Caridin, he told me that all golems have perfect clarity from the moment they are created. Most have no memories prior to that transfer and no personality and they cannot hold any emotional bonds. As such they can tell you exactly what they saw or hold a conversation providing you don't ask them what they feel about it. Only a few, he and his Steel Legion, maintain pre-golem memories and Shayle was a special case as her transfer had been rushed and not entirely successful. The second point he spoke of was regarding the fact that near immortal does not mean indestructable. A golem will not suffer from a lack of food or air, yet a solid enough blow to the head will still cause it injury. Putting together these facts it is clear that Shayle has perfect recall of memories from the point when she was forcibly frozen in the village of Honnleath, while at the same time recalling only parts of previous memories. I made it clear that I wanted her thoughts exactly as she had them and she certainly delivered. There appear to be three main points which can be separated out. Pre-golem memories which are fleeting and often confusing as her golem form does not have the correct reference points to give the memories a solid base. Then a set from while she was a golem in Cadash Thaig, this must have been prior to the loss of Cadash Thaig and the exile of House Cadash. The last are from after she was recovered from the deep roads by a human mage and used in the rebellion against Orlais, and also at times as a experiment for the human to test magical theories on. The account can be confusing until one realises she is relaying memories which we may, with Caridin's journal and with our own experiences, understand, but Shayle herself had no understanding of at the time she recalled them. Warden Constable Duran Aeducan.

[jarakrisafis]

for the prompts- Krem/Scout Harding, “Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together" ?

Short not quite a drabble, M/E rating so read on with that in mind: "Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together"

Krem hummed and a hand drifted up her arm to stop at her neck.

Lace shivered, if any of the friends in question could see them they'd be settling the bet.

They weren't around to see.

Which meant Krem's hand sneaking around to palm one of her small breasts went unnoticed. As did the thigh between her legs and the brush of leather and stone from his cock. They had learnt that it was easier to expect a second round before he removed it to sleep 

"I think they're a bit late with that bet," he finally said, amusement clear as he hilted himself in her still slick folds for the second time that night.

Lace completely forgot whatever she was going to say in favour of a long moan.

"Whatever you were just saying, I totally agree, just don't stop."

[jarakrisafis]

No, thank you for drawing my Inquisitor who is preening at being called handsome. And random writing to go with it... Edric huffs, raising a hand to his hair before stopping. Deep breath. Count backwards from ten. He can’t mess up his hair. Josephine will murder him. He’s not quite sure how - bludgeon him to death with her clipboard maybe? He hasn’t spent so long getting ready, and then making sure his braiding is perfect just to fuck it up before he even gets to the dignitaries. Heh. Dignitaries. He’s having to put up with a lot of indignities for them, they better sodding appreciate it. The most insulting thing though? He only has four knives and one set of tiny throwing blades hidden on his person right now. Josephine found all the rest. At least she thought collecting seven knives and his other throwing blade set was all he had on him. He doesn’t intend to enlighten her. And then there’s this farce of a tunic to wear. There’s not even any hidden armour in it. No, he’s in silk and velvet with silver stitched edging. He could probably sell just the shirt and feed a poor family for months, let alone what the outer tunic would fetch. He tugs it down one last time, grumbling when it doesn’t sit just right. Stone, what he would give right now for his leathers. It’s not going to get any better and there’s no way he can avoid going down, he’ll have Josephine and Nightingale on his back if he hides away for too long. He just has to grin and bear it. Bright smile. Happy face. Don’t murder the guests. Yay.

Edric ‘Dasher’ Cadash ~ Illustration

Thank you so much @jarakrisafis for lending me your handsome Inquisitor 🥰💕

[jarakrisafis]

“Is it possible to do 100 word fic?” “Sure it is,” said I. In fact, I thought, I’ll throw something together to prove it. Result: have a four minute Solas/Lavellan sad shippy drabble.

--- This moment has been coming for a long time. As time is counted now that is.

Still he finds it is hard to walk away. Much harder than he expected. How can one woman give him so many memories he will treasure? And yet, he must leave. What was one job, now turned into two.

Save the world and save her. They are, despite what might be thought, not the same. His magic is killing her, as surely as a knife in her back. He will find a way to solve that. Only then will he move on the world.

--- Ancestors forgive me for the lack of dwarf content. We will be back to regularly scheduled programming soon...

[jarakrisafis]

Hello! Prompt for femslash february! "You're in trouble now." for Rica Brosca/Female Aeducan. Love, odekiax

One completed prompt: A Helping Hand, https://archiveofourown.org/works/29707149 NSFW (AO3 E rated) CW under cut

CW: vaginal fingering

[jarakrisafis]

Spare some gorim....? 🥺

I can spare a lot of Gorim. Breaker of my heart, purveyor of fine Dwarven crafts.

-----

Gorim Saelac is a warrior. He’s known that for as long as he can remember. ‘House Saelac is a warrior house and you will be a warrior’. He swears he had a sword in his hand before he was talking. He probably didn’t, but he likes to think it was true; baby him toddling round whacking his parents shins.

He might not be the best fighter there is, but he has perseverance and patience, something many of his age mates seem to lack. He doesn’t shirk practice, he doesn’t slip away early to go find something more fun to do, he doesn’t try and avoid the work he’s meant to be doing. As one instructor once said: ‘skill can only take you so far, the rest is practice’.

He’s going to need every bit of skill he’s learnt now. The parchment is put away in one of the pouches at his belt. A glance down to make sure he’s presentable, not that he should be anything other than perfectly polished armour. It’s not everyday you get a summons to what is likely to be a quick route towards death.

He’s a warrior though. His path is not his by choice: the King has summoned him and so he’ll go. House Saelac has long served as Seconds for their Noble House. It is an honour to serve House Aeducan, he can even say that with a straight face as he bows before the King. Because he’s been brought up to nod and bow and obey.

The King gestures to his side, Gorim lets his eyes flicker that way before focusing back on the King. “My son is in need of a Second, House Saelac has always gone above and beyond for us.”

“Father!” Trian hisses, not quite quietly enough. “I will not have a Warrior caste as my Second.” He does not move, does not show that such an insult burns. He’s fought and trained all his life. He’s spent hours in the arena when he would have preferred to be in the open section of the Shaperate reading the histories that are allowed to those that are not of Noble caste. And the Prince dares to throw all that back in his face. As if another Noble could come close to being as good as he is, at least, any of the same age range. He’s well aware training has nothing on experience and he’s only just of age to be allowed into the deep roads.

“I will Father.” The voice is soft and he blinks at the interruption, eyes lingering for longer on the King’s second child. “let Trian have whoever he wants, you know they won’t last long anyway. I’ll accept a warrior trained Second.”

Gorim is calm. At least he is on the surface, he has long learnt to be so in the face of what might come. It does not mean inside his heart is not hammering in his chest or that his fingers are not tightening on the helmet under his arm as he waits with rising hope that he won’t be assigned to Trian, that the King will listen to his children.

One hand raises, rubbing at his temples. “Very well. I don’t see why it matters, if it will stop you arguing...”

“It will.” Trian says, another venomous glare aimed at Gorim just for the audacity of existing and following the summons he couldn’t ignore.

“Thank you Father. If we might be excused?” A hand waves idly, a dismissal that Gorim bows to and exits with a much lighter heart as he follows his new assignment out of the room.

Gorim Saelac is a warrior. He’s known what that means for as long as he can remember. It means he won’t thank his new First, for it is a warriors duty to obey. He won’t thank them with words. He’ll thank them the only way a warrior can: loyalty, duty, honour. He will not be forsworn.

[azems-familiar]

sure! hmmm let’s see

4) favorite character you’ve written

would definitely have to be Revan. she’s just. such a disaster, she’s so stupid, her self-awareness is zero most of the time but she’s also the perfect vessel for angst. i really wasn’t expecting to love her as much as i did but i really just Clicked with her

6) something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/too complicated to change now

specifically in my fic quantus, i wish i’d kept Alek as Alek, instead of having him going by Malak. by the time i really got settled in with their characters i regretted it, but i’d already made several allusions to the difference between the two names and i was several chapters in, so changing it would’ve been difficult. i also need to redo the first few chapters because i was expecting it to be a different ship than it turned out to be, and i really didn’t know the characters well enough for some stuff. also i forgot about Revan’s mask for the first two whole chapters, oops

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph you’re particularly proud of

perhaps it’s cheating to do this one but my swtor fics don’t get a lot of traction because it’s such a small fandom and i’m VERY proud of this bit:

Vaylin pours every ounce of twisted, shattered hatred and hurt into the Force, reaches into it with the memory of every cruel torment Jarak wrote onto her skin, of Senya standing at the doors as the Sanitarium swallowed her whole, of Valkorion and his icy eyes and his derision and his chains and kneel before the dragon of Zakuul, of Thexan vanishing in the night, of Arcann kneeling to the Outlander - she reaches into the Force with all of her being and the Force reaches back.

And she is consumed.

This - this is the power of the universe at her command, this is the power of suns, this is Vaylin burning at the heart of a star and every ounce of that fire is at her control. Lightning fractures the air around her and the platform rocks under waves of power bigger than anyone can comprehend, and for a single glorious moment Vaylin rides the twisting break of that tsunami, leashes the power of a star gone supernova to her will, and she throws back her head and smiles with a savage thrill because this - this is everything father was afraid of, this is everything he knew she could be, everything she threatened him with. This is the Force incarnate, wrath and fury and vengeance, and every nerve is alight with the burn of it.

“Vaylin, don’t!” she hears, as though from a distance, echoing down a tunnel, a well, and Vaylin is underwater, everything muted but the whorl of lightning around her and the power to shape the universe at her fingertips, and this must be how father felt, like a god, and no wonder he always saw them all as beneath him. Mother, Arcann, Thexan, the Outlander - they’re all just motes of dust against the power of galaxies, against the burn of the Force in her veins.

(But Vitiate, Valkorion, Tenebrae has been beyond death for an age, and Vaylin, for all her strength, is mortal, and humans were never meant to hold the power of gods.)

Something shifts and the fire racing through her turns from strength to agony.

Answer whichever of the author ask questions you really wanted someone to ask you when you reblogged it👀

aight so yeah it’s late and I’m extremely undercaffeinated for the day I’ve had so buckle up.

4) favorite character you’ve written

Honestly, so far it’s Alek. He’s just such a smartass I love it, his internal monologue is a lot of “fuck this in particular” and “should I stop Revan from doing the thing? yes. Will I? no.” he’s quickly become a favorite, I look forward to writing chapters from his pov.

11) what aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?

Just all of it, in general. I started off with very poorly descriptive works that were a lot of just telling of things, not so much describing or showing. Mind you, my 12 year old self thought it was the best thing ever. I’ve definitely gotten a lot of advice from other writers I know and I’ve found some good role models in writing that I can ask myself “how would they write this” and base it off that.

14) do you make playlists for your current wips?

Normally, no. I usually make a playlist on iTunes when I get tired of my current one and my music taste shifts again and I use that to write, or I just let youtube shuffle. However, with when I decided to title the chapters of “there’s a line that we’ll cross” and use songs, I started making playlists. I currently have one for this story, one for Revan and one for Meetra. Basically one for each part of the trilogy. Music helps me write.

18) were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? what were they?

So, baby me started writing Star Wars fanfic at first, after reading Karen Traviss’ Republic Commando series. That blossomed into Peter David’s Star Trek: New Frontier series and just anything Diane Duane wrote for Star Trek. Honestly, those three have shaped a lot of my current writing, and I still love to find their books on my shelf and reread. The descriptions, the character growth, just the entire things were amazing and really went a long way to shaping my writing.

so now I’m gonna shoot the same question back at you XD bc I am Curious.

[jarakrisafis]

It’s hot, humid and my graphics card has broken. No Dragon Age gaming for me. Instead I’m writing weird shit. Have a page of dialogue only fic. As swf as Cadash and Hawke get, so only one reference to hide from the manager...

“You said things couldn’t get worse.”

“Yes, well, apparently I’m not imaginative enough!”

“Strange, Varric’s book suggests you are.”

“You know most of that is brontoshit right?”

“Of course it is. Though I do want to know if the dragon was real.”

“Cadash, do not think about dragons.”

“Why?”

“What part of ‘the Fade responds to what you expect’, is so unclear?”

“The part where I’m still very dwarfy and also here?”

“Fuck! Stop thinking dwarf.”

“Also the part where ‘there’s a high sodding dragon right there because I sodding thought about it’ might be a little unclear.”

“There’s always one isn’t there?”

“Talking about me or you?”

“Eh, both? You mentioned a dragon and now I’m thinking about it too.”

“Wait Hawke...”

“Yes?”

“… It will be what we expect to see?”

“Ye-es.”

“So if we imagine that the demon or whatever it is over there is actually a cute little fluffy bunny rabbit?”

“It really doesn’t… well fuck me!”

“Right now?”

“What? No! Fuck’s sake Cadash, keep your prick in your trousers.”

“You offered.”

“Look, can we just focus on...”

“The cute little angry demon bunny rabbit?”

“How the fuck has the Inquisition not imploded by now?”

“Don’t look at me, I don’t have a sodding clue.”

[jarakrisafis]

I wrote a note on my phone while half asleep and autocorrect and spelling mistakes meant I was left with “plating in their snow after bowl” this morning. I honestly have no idea what I was trying to note down. Therefore after discussion with @musetta3 it is now “playing in the snow with a (snow)ball” and I’m going to pretend that’s what I meant all along. DA Inquisition, sfw.

Edric knew better than to open the balcony doors. He still went and fucking did it. Today was apparently going to be one of ‘those’ days. He frowned at the mini snow avalanche that had cascaded into his rooms and was now stopping him from closing the door again. He’ll have to call some poor sod up here to clean it unless he wants quarters colder than… Well, colder than the top of the Frostmark Mountains doesn’t really work anymore given that he is quite literally already there.

He adds several extra layers, including the lovely white fur hood he’d got a few weeks back and sets off down the stairs with a bounce in his step. After all, a huge snowstorm overnight will have kept ravens grounded and scouts heading for the little shelters that are on route for just this situation. If there’s no messages then there’s no work to do. Work for him. Snow isn’t going to stop everything. He deserves a respite though and this is just perfect.

“Good morning Varric.” The half hearted glare from his fellow dwarf at his enthusiasm makes him chuckle.

“It really is not.” Varric says, turning away from his contemplation of the now very white world.

There’s dark circles under his eyes and ink still splotched on his hands. Not hard to work out that he must have got trapped up here overnight. He likes using the big fire to write beside and I know exactly why; the heat feels really good on old bones that are starting to protest the current abuse he’s putting them through. “Get caught up here?”

He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his eyes, “And then fell asleep in my chair.”

“Ouch.” Edric says, peering out of the doors. If anything it looks even thicker out there than it did on his balcony. “I’ve had an idea.”

“Consider me worried.” Varric looks back into the hall, “shouldn’t you be doing the morning counsel thing?”

“Probably,” he set off down the steps, “you coming?”

“Whatever this idea is, can it wait for me to get something warm?”

Edric slides down a couple of steps when he tries to turn round, “fuck. Of course. If we manage to make it there that is.” Varric makes no response, too busy following Edric’s tracks through the nearly thigh high snow until they’re off the stairway. One day he’s going to ask Josephine to get some sodding railings added to that death trap. No dwarf would make a raised pathway without at least a small edge so you can feel that you’re about to step over the edge before the only warning is the sensation of gravity.

They must be some of the first people out and about up this end. There’s faint voices echoing up from the other end of the keep. Probably Dennett and his assistants. Snow doesn’t stop horses from needing to be fed and watered.

He settles against a wall while Varric ducks into the building. Edric’s even quite proud of himself, he resisted the urge to dump a handful of snow down Varric’s open tunic. It was for a good cause though, he wants Varric on his side not against him. Always recruit the stealthy types and the archers for a snowball war. As long as the enemy doesn’t think to get shields and form up it’s a guaranteed win. Shieldwarriors often have the worst aim.

“So, going to tell me what the idea is now?” Edric raises an eyebrow at the obnoxiously coloured scarf Varric has on and picks up one end to peer at the uneven stitches. “Leave that alone, it was a gift.”

Edric holds up the end he’s holding, a small band of teal that switches mid row into a bright pink for a chunk before becoming a colour that reminds him of ground elfroot. There’s even a patch of sunshine yellow right next to a deep green and then a scarlet on the section wrapped round his chin. “Interesting friend,” he says, letting it go.

Varric chuckles, the sound lighter than Edric’s used to, a fond smile settling on his face as he picks up the end of his scarf, “Daisy is one of a kind.”

Edric has a feeling he should know the name, probably one of his Kirkwall friends, but it isn’t that important right now. “We’re going up there,” he says gesturing at the battlements, “it’s got a great view and is easily defended over staying down here.”

“Right.” Varric says, faithfully following him before abruptly stopping. “Defended?”

Edric’s smile is feral, “yes. Come on, we can get an ammo stash made before anybody else is up.”

“Ammo,” Varric repeats and Edric isn’t sure if it’s a question or not. Either way he seems to have gathered what the plan is and most importantly isn’t protesting.

The stairs here are just as full of snow, but the wall is a great help for pulling them up and they settle into their chosen spot to make snowballs.

“Think you’ve been noticed as missing.” Varric says after a while and they peer over the ledge to see Cullen gingerly making his way down the stairs.

“You’ve done this before.” Varric accuses as they wait, snowballs at the ready for Cullen to approach the tavern door. It was not a coincidence that Edric chose this spot, it has a great view of anyone approaching and a good angle for a throw.

“Not here,” He admits, narrowing his eyes against the snow glare, “but the grandchildren like to play, somebody has to indulge them.” And Edric’s Carta found it greatly amusing to fire snow off at him, which meant the kids got away free, so of course it was him they always wanted on their side. He looses his projectile and ducks down at the startled curse from below. “Score,” He mutters with glee.

Varric snickers and waits for Cullen to turn round before sending his own snowball off to join Edric’s.

“Whoever is doing that, I will have you sweeping shit in the stables if you don’t grow up.”

“Oooooooh,” Varric says through his laughter.

Edric peers over the stone edge, “Inquisitor’s orders. Loosen up and have some fun.” He follows his command with another snowball.

Cullen wipes snow from his face, shaking his head like a mabari to try and get it out of his hair. “Inquisitor.” Edric can’t quite see the expressions on his face from so far up, but in the end he’s sure he’s smiling, “As you wish.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Varric shouts down when Cullen turns and begins to walk away.

“To gather my troops.”

“Well shit.”