#ladies of thedas week

[ladyinthebluebox]

[dragons-and-ages]

As much as I usually prefer playing mages and elves… reading The World of Thedas vol 2 in preparation for a new playthrough is actually getting me hyped to play a Cousland.

Reading about my soon-to-be Amalthea Cousland’s parents is simultaneously heartwarming and heartbreaking:

Her mother, Teyrna Eleanor Cousland, was raised on the deck of a ship and was a fierce rebel raider known as the Seawolf during the time of the Orlesian occupation of Ferelden. After Maric retook Denerim and mobilized the northern banns to defend against Orlesian retaliation by sea, she met her future husband:

I considered the name Dane, from Fereldan legend, but I think Amalthea’s mabari will have to be named Mistral, after her mother’s ship.

After the war, when Bryce returned to Highever:

“Teyrn Bryce spent four months receiving oaths and taking possession of his ancestral home, and every day without fail he sent a letter to Lady Eleanor - sometimes more than one a day.”

The shanty in question:

I think that, even if this was something Eleanor “never shared with her children” they still learned about it from other sources. I have a feeling that a young Amalthea (or “Theo”) got in trouble when she learned the song and got caught belting it in the castle.

Years later, as Highever mobilized to assist King Cailan at Ostager, Theo would have a few notes stuck in her head, plaguing her as she couldn’t remember what song it was from… Until several weeks later, when she would hear the song played in a brothel in Denerim and the enormity of the loss of her family would finally hit her like a meteor.

The book has this to say in the section about Arl Rendon Howe:

Bryce was his friend during the rebellion against Orlais. They, along with their friend, Leonas Bryland, survived the massacre that was the Battle of White River together. Bryce was still his friend after Leonas cut contact with him. Bryce and Eleanor Cousland were at his wedding. They were the only people at his wedding. They were his friends.

They were his friends and he still slaughtered them.

I’m so unwell about this.

[fenharel-is-so-swell]

While I’m on my ✨Race in Thedas✨ rant let me just explain why the blending of Dalish and City Elves bothers me personally.

As I said previously, I’m mixed. I’m specifically black in the ‘descendants of enslaved people’ way. I grew up in a predominantly white area but finished out highschool in a diverse school with a high number of first gen African immigrants.

(I promise this is pertinent) My relationship with race has always been complex. I benefit from a proximity to whiteness due to being mixed, but I of course still experienced rampant racism and an identity crisis.

In elementary school we had to do a yearly genealogy project. In some ways, mine was easier than the few other black kids in my class. While their families were nearly untraceable past 2-3 generations, I could just focus my effort on my mother’s side. Though, I faced ridicule because OBVIOUSLY I wasn’t white, so obviously I couldn’t be German. While I may have shared DNA, I felt much less experientially connected to the ‘family tree’ I did my reports on because their lives could look nothing like mine. They walked through world without the color of their skin first. So, of course the next year when a culture week came up and we were encouraged to wear clothing representative of our heritage I went the other way—I asked my dad to buy me a dashiki. I still I faced ridicule and still it felt foreign. I had no cultural ties to the patterns, my family never wore them, I’d never heard of the foods we looked up that were mainstays on the Ivory Coast. I may have shared DNA, I may have shared racial trauma, but my culture was different. I was black I wasn’t African.

Playing dragon age origins as a City elf I saw myself for the first time. I saw a woman divorced from her original culture, ripped from her roots by an imperial force but still incredibly steeped in a rich world created by survival and painstaking effort to hold onto oral tradition and what blended history the alienages could. I saw my grandmother singing gospel on the weekends, the church ladies in their outfits, the greens, the pecan pie, the stories of struggle the community shared, the village it took to raise all my cousins and get our older family and friends through chemo and childloss and hard financial times. In hearing about different alienages I saw the distinct cultural differences between Harlem, Oakland, Birmingham, Houston, Atlanta.

Playing as a Dalish elf I saw a facet of the African-Immigrant experience I came to know in high school from my friends who immigrated. I saw the culture more closely connected to the various countries they came from, but still scared by the vestiges of imperialism and colonialism. They were all unique, just as Dalish clans are. My Nigerian friends ate different food, had different rules, wore different clothes, had different cultural practices than my Kenyan or Nigerian friends. I had a couple of North African friends from Morrocco and Egypt that still felt grounded in the history of Africa but were so different. I saw the physical differences in them like I saw them in further DA entires in the Dalish from Antiva or elves from Tevinter.

(And better yet to see this dichotomy in culture I didn’t have to face more trauma porn on black bodies)

As I continued digging into elven cultures in southern Thedas I saw even more complexities of the diaspora that matched my experience. They way both city and Dalish elves looked down upon each other one for ‘assimilation’ and being ‘weak’. The other for holding on to ‘strange’ cultural practices and being ‘primitive’.

Growing up at a crossroads of many racial and cultural experiences I relished in the nuance, the way both cultures were painted as a people just trying to survive and hold onto themselves. A people distinct and resilient, a people not too unlike from each other and while aloof still marginally less wary in solidarity. They were both full of individuals that interacted so vibrantly with the world and life they lived in.

Flattening that in Veilguard initially devastated me, then enraged me. That’s not just poor writing, that’s borderline racist. It indicates that the differences don’t matter, the pain, the struggle, the culture, the history none of it matters because ‘an elf is just an elf’ at the end of the day. And that’s fucking gross.

[thatapostateboy]

we all have a hunger

Pairing: Rook & Lavellan (platonic), brief hint at Solas x Female Lavellan

Word Count: 1675

Synopsis: In which Rook and Lavellan finally get to talk.

Prompt: Day Two: Rebellion from the Veilbound challenge by @/nympthi and @/citadrells on Twitter

Warnings: Mentions of slavery, Veilguard mild spoilers/speculation

Crossposted: Here on AO3

Rook wasn’t entirely sure what to make of Lavellan. She’d heard the stories of course, from rumours whispered amongst slaves and nobles alike in Tevinter to hearing it straight from Varric’s mouth, and yet none of them were quite able to do the fabled Herald of Andraste justice. Solas had painfully little to say, often cutting that line of questioning short whenever she so much as hinted at a connection between them. Harding had been the most honest, telling her that yes, she was a hero, that she had walked in the Fade and slayed would-be gods, but that she was a woman, a person, same as the rest of them.

Rook found that all but impossible to believe when the legend herself had strode through the Eluvian like she owned the place, demanding to know what was going on and why the Evanuris were rampaging across Northern Thedas. She looked like one of the illustrations in Varric’s books come to life, minus the flowing hair and waving standard of the Inquisition planted behind her.

She had not taken charge, though Rook would not have protested to someone more qualified taking control of the situation, but there was a respect and reverence around her. When she so much as entered a room, everyone paid attention, even Assan.

It took weeks of hard-fought battles at each other’s side, even harder fought conversations as the two differing personalities attempted to work together, but Rook finally saw her.

It had been the early hours of the morning, or whatever counted as morning in the Fade, but as the other members of the Veilguard had found sleep, Rook had found none, and it seemed that neither had Lady Lavellan. Rook found her already sat at the kitchen island, a cup of tea in her hand, staring contemplatively down into the steaming liquid.

“Can’t sleep either?”

Lavellan looked up at her, letting out a sigh, “Is it that obvious?”

“I hate to break it you, but the circles under your eyes give it away,” she pointed out, pouring her own mug of tea and leaning against the counter to look at her, “Does it ever get easier? Finding rest after everything we see?”

“I’ll tell you when I know,” she gave a soft snort into her mug as she took a mouthful.

Rook sipped at her own mug, humming at the taste, “Is that honey… with hints of dragonthorn?”

Lavellan’s eyebrows rose, “You have quite the palate. It’s my own special blend. I guessed there wouldn’t be much tea here so I’ve been mixing my own.”

“No, the Dread Wolf doesn’t seem to be a fan of tea,” Rook noted, “Or most things, I’ve found.”

“Not entirely true, he does have a taste for tiny cakes.”

Rook smiled at that, “And what about you, Lady Lavellan? What do you have a taste for? Aside from excellent tea blends.”

“Honey cakes,” she admitted, “I used to make them all of the time when I was young, my papae’s family recipe… I can’t remember when I last had the time to bake. Everything just been so…”

“Yeah,” she agreed, “It has… Y’know, I never thanked you.”

“Thanked me? Whatever for?”

“Coming out of retirement, being here to keep my ass out of the fire,” she said.

“Sweet as it is for you to say, I never actually retired,” she pointed out, “Keeping people’s asses out of the fire is what I’ve been doing since the Conclave exploded.”

Rook examined her for a few moments, then gave a resounding nod, “Breakfast.”

“What?”

“I’m going to make you breakfast.”

“I couldn’t impose-”

“It’s the least I can do, all things considered. Besides, I enjoy cooking, so c’mon, what do you…” she trailed off, eyes landing firmly on the one unused pan that still hung on the rack, “How about an omelette?”

A smile spread across Lavellan’s face, “They are my absolute favourite, how did you know?”

“What’s with the one omelette pan?”

The conversation had occurred within the first week of living at the Lighthouse, not long after the full team had been recruited and they had truly begun to explore what the Dread Wolf had to hide away. And for all of the mysteries and magics here, there was only one thing that truly bothered Rook.

The irritation in Solas’ voice was palpable as he turned to look at her, “I’m sorry?”

“You have the most depressing kitchen setup, you own one fork, spoon, knife, plate, bowl and cup, all which look like they’ve never been used… and yet you have a top-of-the-line Orlesian omelette pan.”

He huffed, “Of all of the inane queries you have used this tenuous connection for- How do you know it’s Orlesian? And that it is designed for omelettes?”

She put her hands on her hips, “I know my way around a kitchen with my eyes shut. So, what does a god who doesn’t eat need with an omelette pan?”

“That is none of your business.”

“Very well,” she nodded, “Lucanis was looking to use it, I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t some hidden magical art-”

“No!”

She glanced up at him with a mirthful smirk at his protest, “No?”

“It’s…” he regained his composure a little, “I was saving it for a special occasion.”

Her smirk only grew, “I’ll tell Lucanis to get his own. The omelette pan will remain untouched until you can escape the Fade and treat yourself to breakfast.”

Oh that old wolf had it bad.

“Educated guess,” Rook smiled.

“I’ve had a love for them since I tried them on my first trip to Orlais, back when the Breach had just opened. I had to adjust to shem food, but the omelettes, I fell in love with them.”

“Then you’re in luck. Omelettes are my signature dish.”

“You’re sure it’s no trouble?”

“As I said, it is literally the least I can do.”

Rook grabbed the pan that had sat untouched for Maker knows how long, setting it to warm up on the stove as she gathered ingredients out of the cold storage. She set to work, cracking three eggs and whisking them through a sieve, creating a smooth mixture.

Lavellan watched her, still nursing her tea, “I have to admit, I’m impressed that you got the dragonthorn on the first try. I thought it was quite subtle. I didn’t realise I was in the presence of a connoisseur.”

Rook hummed as she whisked, “Hardly. I spent the better part of my youth being trained how to cook by only the finest of Orlesian slaves. My master wanted nothing but the best when we prepared his meals, so I was taught very young how to taste test everything.”

Lavellan met her gaze, “Varric told me a little of your past when he said that you were working together, but he mainly brought up the Shadow Dragons.”

“I can only imagine the spin he put on it,” she rolled her eyes a little, slicing off some butter to melt into the now hot pan, “The slave breaking free from chains to rebel against the system and bringing freedom to the Imperium.”

“Is that not the story?”

“It a version of the story. I’m just… doing what I can.”

“It’s more than most do.”

Rook turned, pouring the egg mixture with care into the pan, hands steady as she guided it to fill every part of the surface, wanting an even cook, “Do you know why I enjoy cooking? Despite my past?”

“Tell me.”

“My master hated eggs. He wasn’t allergic, but he had a distaste for them so bad that he would physically strike us if there was even an egg in the kitchen,” she said, eyes fixed on the omelette as it began to take shape, “So I decided that I would learn to cook every egg dish that I could cram into my head. I would learn them, cook them, and perfect them. And I would feed everything I cooked to the others in the household.”

“You took that risk?” she asked.

Rook grabbed some of the cream cheese mixture that Lucanis kept pre-made in the cold store, piping it delicately through the centre of the omelette, “When I was a child and was first sold to him, I knew that I couldn’t fight him. I was too young, and even if by some miracle I could kill him, I had nowhere to go. So I took solace in my little acts of rebellion. It kept me alive, gave me a reason to never truly give up on the idea of freedom… And the fact it brought joy to the others? That small act that was just for us? It gave us hope.”

She missed the smile on Lavellan’s face as she folded the egg over the cream cheese, the Inquisitor finally realising why Varric had chosen her as his second in command, just as Lavellan couldn’t see the soft look in Rook’s eyes as she told her story, finally opening up to someone.

She slid the omelette delicately onto a plate, finishing it off with some quickly chopped chives and some black pepper, placing it in front of the former Inquisitor.

Lavellan looked positively ravenous at the sight and dug in as soon as Rook handed her a fork, devouring it one messy mouthful at a time. She glanced up at Rook, tears pricking at her eyes, “This is the best thing I have ever eaten.”

Rook snorted, “Shut up, no it’s not.”

She swallowed down her mouthful, “Rook, I’m telling you, I’ve eaten at the Orlesian royal court itself, but this blows their chefs out of the water. This is so good,” she shovelled another forkful into her mouth, “Thank you.”

“Eva.”

“What?”

“My friends call me Eva.”

She smiled at her, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Eva, I’m Brenna.” She lifted her mug of tea towards her, “To small acts of rebellion.”

Eva grabbed her mug and tapped it against hers, “May they see us through.”

[greypetrel]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @shivunin, thank you so much hun! <3 It's gonna be particularly unrelated to last week, but well.

1, 2. My nice brain was convinced that Artfight was in June and I couldn't come prepared. I signed in and IT'S IN JULY. So I'm getting ready some character sheets for the girls, starting with Lady Warden Commander whose complexion totally, definitely didn't become greyer and sicker for the Blight. No, it was drinking from the filthiest chalice in Thedas, it was disgusting, *she* cleans the cup between each Joining she's not a barbarian. Also clothes: I'm starting to headcanon that the embroideries were done by Merrill and making myself cry. 3. I realized I have few examples to show for my contribution in this raffle for Palestine, so... I'm doing one right now. Which is also Aisling's last piece of character design, I did something else for her but I think I'll just show you the finished things in some days. 4. 🌈✨🦄 It's pride month. 🌈✨🦄

Tagging! @salsedinepicta @ndostairlyrium @melisusthewee @dungeons-and-dragon-age @dreadfutures

@inquisimer @pinayelf @whimsyswastry @theluckywizard @pyritefes2

and YOU who are reading!

[vultures-and-scavengers]

start.

curly, if any man needed a hobby, it's you.

he's not sulking: the commander of the inquisition doesn't pout.

but he has hobbies! he does! he spars every morning with his officers (wait, that counts, right? he enjoys it), he reads (books on tactics, but it's just lucky he finds the reading he does for his job interesting.), and he... he...

cullen has hobbies, he swears. he just can't... name one.

five minutes later, cullen thinks of one. chess! he likes chess. it's unfortunate annette-- lady trevelyan, he reminds himself-- likes to take dorian with her so much, and leliana is busy, so he can't play as much as he likes.

and sure, ann-- lady trevelyan-- has been in skyhold the past few weeks, and so has dorian, and he still hasn't played recently, but they just got back from adamant.

really, cullen doesn't have leisure time. if he had time, he's sure he'd know some way to fill it. cullen stares at the paperwork on his desk, pondering, telling himself an idea will come to him, any day now.

alright, he's got nothing.

he broods over that enough that he startles when lady trevelyan sweeps into his office, a small stack of papers in her hands. she looks unbothered, moving with a practiced grace as her skirts flow around her. she tilts her head slightly, asking if everything is alright.

oh, sure, he's fine, cullen's just contemplating the monotony of his existence. it's what everyone loves to do. he intends to tell her he's fine, really, but what he says instead is, "am i boring?"

right. he's going to resign and go live alone in the woods, now.

she doesn't react at first, her eyes unblinkingly focused on him, and then her lips purse. "what brought this on?"

that's not a no, he observes.

"ah," she answers for herself while he flails for an answer that doesn't make it look like he's obsessing over something varric said a week ago. he doesn't need to tell her that. she figures it out for herself. "is this about varric's comment?"

he chose the three most perceptive women in thedas to work with. cullen would appreciate it more if they turned that perception on him less. he nods, though.

"i think," she says, and while she always picks her words with deliberation, she seems even more cautious than normal, "that you have been put in positions where you had little time or opportunity to develop hobbies, but it does not follow that you must then be boring."

well, he can't ask her how to find a hobby he likes, so he tries a slightly different tactic. "well, what do you like to do?"

she opens her mouth, closes it, and cullen is rewarded with the rarest of visions: a flummoxed lady trevelyan.

"oh," he says. and then he laughs, because what else is there? it's a tired, disbelieving sort of laugh, because here they are, inquisitor and commander, and they can't think of a single leisure activity between them.

what a pair they make.

she flushes, but she only pushes her shoulders back and stands a little straighter in a defensive sort of defiance. "well, what did you do before joining the templars?"

at first cullen thinks to remind her he was raised on a farm, and that the work started before dawn and lasted until dusk. but he dusts off an old memory and furrows his brow, wondering why he'd let it grow so faded. his uncle had been the town carpenter, and on days cullen had been able to slip away, he'd spent hours in his uncle's workshop.

"woodcarving," he finally answers. it's a start. she escapes the conversation before he can ask what she had once enjoyed, but that's fine. he's learned by now that she's allergic to being known, but if he opens a door and gives her space, eventually she'll walk through it.

blackwall is easily convinced to part with spare bits of wood, and because cullen is still ferelden, he attempts to carve a mabari first. its terrible, but its a start.

he tries to carve a bird next. birds are much simpler. his raven hops closer, sitting on his shoulder as he sits back, summoning childhood memories to guide his hands. its much better. he locates paint, and paints it black, with a splotch of white on its chest, and he sets it next to his raven's perch.

it makes his raven seem pleased, and his raven can't tell him he's terrible at painting. its an ideal location.

as he carves a second bird one evening, lady trevelyan appears, a steaming mug of cocoa in her hands, and thick furs wrapped around her shoulders. he reminds her its summer and receives a haughty glare in response.

but he spins his chair around and she settles herself onto the couch shoved against the wall behind his desk, and slowly, shyly, lady trevelyan tells him she's fascinated by herbalism, by the histories behind how different plants are used and how the uses have changed over time.

he asks if shes tried growing her own, but she shakes her head, and tells him in a voice she can't quite erase the wistfulness from that its not lady-like.

he swallows his first instinct, which he still thinks is a quite reasonable one, to tell her to hang the nobility and what they think. but lady trevelyan has bound herself to their rules in order to play their game, and she is only more visible now. he's had (and lost) that argument.

"and?" he finally asks.

lady trevelyan-- no, annette-- looks over at him, and she has no answer. her confused expression fades, replaced by blank neutrality, but she sips at her cocoa. the silence that follows is more contemplative than tense, and when she speaks, its only to ask if he'd be willing to share more about how he learned woodcarving.

cullen lets her change the subject, the door opened. he tells her of his uncle, of the woodshop nestled up on the hill behind the baker's store, and of learning how to use his uncle's tools. later he'll savor the memory of wrapping his hands around hers, showing lady trevelyan-- annette-- how to hold the whittling knife so she won't hurt herself, her side pressed to his as she listens to him talk.

and three weeks later, a rather terribly painted mourning dove carving sits in a planter with an over-watered and drooping embrium.

its a start.

[ghostwise]

checking to see what they think or feeling a flutter after something they've done dozens of times for the what are we? moment prompts

“I don’t know, Varric,” Harding says. “This archipelago isn’t on any of the maps I’ve sourced. We’ve come so far—what if it’s another dead end?”

The table in front of them is covered in nautical charts, along with tools and a roll of parchment full of notes. She has stared at these charts for countless hours. She feels intimately acquainted with the monstrous little creatures drawn at the edges of the maps, but it’s gotten her nowhere.

They’ve been aboard the Siren’s Song for weeks now; long enough for both of them to acclimate to the weather and settle in.

Harding had hoped that the local maps would serve them better than the old charts from Ferelden—certainly, the Lords of Fortune had the truest telling of the Boeric Ocean’s most distant reaches—but she’s seen nothing of the mystery archipelago mentioned in so many Venatori missives. It is beginning to worry her.

“Isabela says we’ll soon reach a point where the Siren can’t maneuver. Too many sand bars, too narrow for the ship. We’re running out of time. We’re going in blind.”

“Good thing we have a scout on the case, then,” Varric says. “The finest in Thedas.”

“You think very highly of me,” she tells him, in stern disapproval.

“It’s warranted.” With a rumbly laugh, Varric rises to his feet and walks over. He rests a broad palm on her shoulder.

“Why do you think Lady Lavellan put us on the job, kid? I can see the narrative. But you can see the path.”

Harding sighs at those words.

She cannot help but feel nostalgic when he talks like this. The lines on his face and the gray in his hair certainly don’t help. She has spent a decade devoting herself to this cause.

Before she can dwell on it further there is a knock on the cabin door.

“Lunch,” Lirio Laidir says when he walks in. “For my favorite guests.”

“Aw, you didn’t have to!” Harding says, instantly brightening. “I’m sure glad you did, though. I’m sick of looking at these.”

“Trouble?” Lirio asks.

“We can’t find an archipelago matching the descriptions we’ve gathered,” Varric says, taking the wooden bowl from Lirio’s hands. “What… is this?”

“Caldeirada,” Lirio says.

“Fish stew again,” Harding clarifies. “Hooray!”

“Well, mostly fish.”

“I’m getting a taste for this mostly fish,” Harding admits with a smile. Then, she pauses around a mouthful of stew, and waves a fluttering hand at Lirio. “Actually—since you’re here, think you could have a look at this? Maybe you’ll see something we’ve missed.”

Varric glances at her over his stew. The notes are not exactly a secret, but they detail Venatori movements and communications they have shared with no one, not even Leliana. And Lirio seems all too eager to help.

Varric would find it suspicious, if he didn’t know better. If he didn’t see the narrative.

“You know,” Lirio hums as he and Harding pore over the charts and annotations, “I heard a rumor from a Dalish friend of mine. He said he once saw a volcano that had formed new islands around it. He said this happens from time to time, but when there is a lyrium vein inside the volcano, curious things start to happen. The islands pop up fast. The Fade gets weak around them. There is a lyrium trade in the area.”

“So… look for volcanoes on islands?” Harding suggests.

The idea is compelling. It seems so unlikely, but it’s a route they hadn’t explored, so she quickly takes to the idea. Her frustration and fatigue from before seem to vanish.

They carry on that way, hunting for volcanoes in the charts and swapping stories, until Lirio is called to tend to the sails.

In the silence that follows, Varric sets his hands on the table politely. He gives Harding a knowing look, and a slow, inquiring smile.

“Well,” he says.

Harding sputters for a moment, a light blush on her cheeks.

“What?”

“Nothing. That was a very enlightening conversation, is all.”

[felassan]

this post is under a cut in case anyone would consider it to be DA:D spoilers. (the things it mentions are not new information and it's minor stuff only)

a few weeks ago it was noticed that on this website, a new VA was listed as the voice of several named characters in DA:D - 'Olen', 'Marek’, 'Lord Borgiani’ and 'Templar Captain'. [source] like I said in the tags on that post, I'd guess that these are more minor-type of characters, like sidequest chars or quest-givers, -type of deal. (so this is overanalyzing for sure ik, its just a bit of fun). I was thinking about this again today, wondering what type of characters (e.g. what race, where are they from etc) they are, and also got to looking up the names online. disclaimer: I was just poking around on Google here, if anything here is incorrect or you're familiar with the names/words and know better, pls lmk! ^^

none of the names return any results on the DA Wiki.

Lord Borgiani - Borgiani seems to be a surname that originates in Italy. the nations and groups in Thedas have multiple inspirations/influences from irl (not just the one) ofc. one of these for Antiva is said to be Italy. Borgiani sounds like it could be an Antivan name, so I'm wondering if Lord Borgiani is Antivan. "Lord" implies they are a dude. their Lord status could imply that they're human nobility. Lord/Lady is a noble title in Antiva (not only there though, ofc). thinking of characters like Lord Otranto from Josie's romance and Lord Enzo of Rialto. putting "borgiani" into Google translate, it detects Corsican as the language and advises "bourgeois" in English, which, you could easily make a link from there to a character who has some form of status.

Marek - a "West Slavic (Czech, Polish and Slovak) masculine given name", like "Mark" in English. it's also a surname. allegedly the name means "warlike" or is ultimately derived from Mars, the Roman god of war via, e.g., "Marcus" (name sites are quite unreliable though in terms of the info on them sometimes). Czech, Polish, Slovak, Slavic & so on names in DA World crop up quite a bit as the names of dwarven characters, so I wonder if Marek is a dwarf?

Olen - a given name and a surname. it's also a place in Belgium and Russia, and Olen was a legendary early poet from Lycia. this page gives Olen as being a name related to the name Ole, "a Danish and Norwegian masculine given name, derived from the Old Norse name Óláfr, meaning "ancestor's descendant". this page gives it as the "masculine form of Olena, a name ultimately derived from Ole." hmm, maybe someone Fereldan, Avvar, dwarven or from the Anderfels?

Templar Captain - as a character without a specified given name, surely they are a minor-minor/background character like e.g., "Templar Guard" from Lake Calenhad Docks (DA:O). self-explanatory. likely human.

[context, two]

[velnat004]

Go wild, list things about Roman's background and his favourite things

okayyy lets go!! -he's born to a human noble father (octavian trevelyan) and a valshoth qunari mother ("anais" trevelyan)

-a handful of the bann's siblings grew to dislike the bann's wife over the years, resulting in them to pick a more "fresh" looking woman for the bann -anais was picked specifically for the bann by one of his sisters during one of her visits to the ostwick circle -the bann and lady trevelyan (viktoria trevelyan) were already starting to have issues about their relationship and when anais arrived to the estate, octavian was more than happy to bed the qunari lady instead -anais' background was not questioned too much as she did not have any vitaars nor seemed to speak qunlat, and they were certain that just like any other non-human races in thedas, she was going to give birth to a human child -when roman was born though, the first signs of his qunari lineage begun showing as he was born with pale grey skin, making the midwife to think he was stillborn at the first sight -as the years would pass, roman started to grow horns -which was something his relatives didn't expect or want, blaming anais for "poisoning" roman's blood like that for years on end -in 9:21, a decade after roman was born, anais was publicly executed after she was found mauling one of her sisters-in-law to death. -weeks after his mother's death, roman's magic surfaced and was sent to the circle of ostwick -lady trevelyan and the bann would bring him home every weekend so he wouldn't feel isolated from his siblings -anais's death did not mean the end of her in-laws' petty behaviour, as they directed their hatred towards anais to roman instead -and thus, a tug of war between the bann's siblings and his inner family, as roman's half siblings and stepmother would do their best to keep him away from the bann's siblings' petty schemes. as u can see i was pretty inspired by magnificent century lmao there's more lore of him but i dont think i can do it justice with just few sentences here so im working on a fic that goes through roman's backstory chapter by chapter :3

[cleolinda]

Weekend links, April 14, 2024

My posts

Honestly, I spent much of the week coping with storm migraines. You can tell, because I was reblogging a lot from under a cold compress rather than doing anything useful with life. 

Reblogs of interest

The Hot Vintage Lady Polls are rough out there, y’all. Round three started closing yesterday (see what’s still open here), and as of this writing, we have lost Bette Davis, Alla Nazimova, Theda Bara, Myrna Loy, Barbra Streisand, Fay Wray, Lucille Ball, Ginger Rogers, and Olivia de Havilland--and it looks like Catherine Deneuve, Clara Bow, Lana Turner, and Mary Pickford are on their way out. Meanwhile, I learned about a ton of actresses I’d never heard of before, only to shriek when Sharmila Tagore, Nadira, and Waheeda Rehman lost this round. (Edwige, I will never forget you.) 

Let me remind you (and me sometimes, too): Not everyone has the same taste or childhood attachments or cinema experiences as you. And everybody in this bracket loses. Everybody but one. 

(I can tell I’m not cut out for brawling because I’m like, “I will be very sad to see Norma Shearer go, but Hazel Scott seems nice!”)

--

“Actually, Mr. Musk, I am an attorney. Do you know that?” Here’s the highlights of Mark Bankston, the man who brought down Alex Jones, coping with Elon Musk and Elon Musk’s Lawyer, who is not even licensed in Texas, for 100 pages of deposition. 

Hozier Watch 2024: “Too Sweet” has now charted higher in the UK than “Take Me to Church,” and it’s getting real close on the US charts. This is a song that didn’t even make last year’s album. I am endlessly fascinated. 

Happy Leland Melvin Day!

Happy Neil Banging Out the Tunes Day!

“Posting endless DNIs because we can’t (or don’t know we can) make spaces just for the people we do want to interact with” actually makes a lot of sense in this centralized social media hellscape. 

There is a 20k mg weed gummy and nobody needs that. “Forget meeting the Hat Man this is what turns you into the Hat Man. This is worse than that torture drug that makes you experience 600 billion years in a second. This is the secret to honest to god shifting.” 

One of the best uses of the Kate Beaton Poe comic I’ve ever seen

“Americanisms that tell you to check on your American” (they are all correct)

“Tuxedo Mask is the first example of being ‘Kenough’”

Just this once, I will allow this AI rendition of a “traditional Polish family” and their traditional Polish woodchuck. 

I am absolutely not saying there is anything wrong with being into tentacles; I’m just saying that Pyramid Head doesn’t even have them and thus is a pretty tame choice to complain about. 

Little Guy, a game

A cursèd chair called “Oops!”

Sparrow Tarot: Honestly, this is one of my favorite takes on the Hanged Man.

This dog is a biscuit and she is precious

Video

One of the things that’s so great about this Ilia Malinin free-skate program is, he makes it look so effortless that I would have never figured out on my own, without Tumblr’s commentary, that there’s a couple moves in here that no one in the world can do but him. Like, the very first jump and the announcers start screaming. 

A journey from fearing moths to raising them

A dude puts on a dress For the Meme and then discovers that he loves it (and then he styles it as a full outfit and it looks SO GOOD)

Watching this cat ride around on a roomba on a sped-up surveillance camera is self-care.

So is this (although it’s a bit strobe-y)

Bat type: hi doggy

Was the jello for the tuna salad lamb supposed to be lime?

The sacred texts

Holy Shit, Two Cakes

The origin of “Me, an intellectual”

#AllMyLifeIHadToFight

Personal tag of the week

Designer Roberto Cavalli, who passed away this week at age 83. I reblogged several fashion posts--I hadn’t even realized myself that he had designed Beyoncé’s famous yellow dress in Lemonade.

[sweetestofchaos]

Blackthorn Ch 13 | M.YG

Pairing: Crown Prince Dragon!Yoongi x Crown Princess Impundulu!Keena  Genre: Soulmate AU | Arranged Marriage AU | Fantasy AU | Fluff | Angst  Word Count: 9K  Warnings: Abuse of Power | Physical Violence | Kissing | Teasing | Verbal Threats | Hair Pulling | Body Worship | Oral (oc receiving) | Scent Marking | Cum Marking Rating: NC-18

My Gift To You Part 1 - As the the engagement announcement approaches, Prince Yoongi give the Princess a gift.

a/n: As always thanks to @sailoryooons for making the banner. Shout out to @theharrowing for being my lovely beta this chapter! Character asks and the taglist for Blackthorn are always open! Minors do NOT interact with my work, please and thank you. Also, this is cross posted on ao3, under the same username sweetestofchaos.

Taglist: @thickemadame ​​

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

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Madam Theda Vonner, one of the most sought after etiquette tutors was…vicious. She wasted no time during her lessons and scolded the Princess for wearing ‘inappropriate attire’. She berated the Princess on proper etiquette of respecting one's heritage and culture. If she continued to wear the garb of her nation, the Princess wouldn’t be respected by the people of the Min Empire and she would bring dishonor to all who lived within the castle walls. Madam Theda then went on to inform the Princess that she had two weeks and only two weeks to turn her into a proper Princess. She felt that Princess Kenna was only a Princess in name and had no real claim to the title. She was a woman born of noble blood that had no inkling to the meaning of what a true Princess was.

There was no time to hold the Princess’ hand as Madam Theda mapped out everything that needed to change. Lady Zarrin’s teachings were laughable and she regarded the title of Princess as nothing more than a fancy name. Theda would fix that, it was her job to do so. She allowed for the Princess to wear her attire for the first lesson, she refused to waste more time and had Cookie removed from the room. The tiny cub was a distraction and she already had her hands full with lessons that should have already been taught. By the end of the lesson, Madam Thea was convinced that the Princess had been taught nothing at all.

The homework for the Princess seemed endless but the Princess kept her head held high and thanked Madam Thea for the lesson. Before Thea could leave, the Princess spoke up and informed the new tutor that she refused to wear the garb of the Min empire. She was from Escistan and she would bring her culture to the empire. It was a part of her, in the very blood that ran through her veins, she refused to abandon her nation's culture and beliefs. Madam Thea had laughed, a sound so condescending that it made the Princess’ eyes flash silver.

“While you are under my tutelage, you will abide by my rules, Princess. I expect you to be in the proper attire tomorrow with no distractions around.” Madam Theda bowed to the Princess and San bit the inside of his cheek. He knew how to bow towards a royal and the half-hearted movements from Madam Theda were a blatant disrespect. Princess Keena bowed her head in silence and San watched as the older woman left the room. Once the door was closed, San glanced over at the Princess and he was shocked to see the silver of her eyes glowing.

“Princess?” San called out to her softly, “Would you like to take a break?”

The Princess’ eyes closed and she inhaled deeply. The silence stretched on and when her eyes opened they were once again that all too familiar brown that warmed anyone with just a look.

“Have Hyejin bring in a pot of rose bud tea with those strawberry rose petal cookies.”

San bowed low and stepped out of the room for a short moment. When the door opened, Chan stepped inside with Cookie in his arms. The tiny cub yelped and wiggled around until he was placed on the floor. He ran to the Princess and climbed into her lap. His green fur stood out against the chartreuse, red orange, and chili pepper kitenge skirt. Cookie nipped at the Princess’ fingers as she tickled his soft underbelly and she smiled.

“You are far from a distraction my sweet cub.” 

The solid orange buba that the Princess wore hung off the shoulders with small gold buttons down the back. Chartreuse embroidered flowers were on the ends of the full length sleeves, and as the Princess continued to play with Cookie, the tiny cub swatted at them. Chan watched as the Princess’ shoulders relaxed and the tension that locked her jaw eased into a softer smile. Chan knew something had happened from the way Madam Theda and San both exited the room with frowns on their faces. Seeing that the Princess was unharmed physically, Chan worried that her heart might have been the target.

“Princess?”

“Yes, Chan?”

“Would you like to have your tea outside? I saw Namjoon poking around the lupine.”

Princess Keena shifted Cookie in her arms and stood up, “I haven’t looked at the lupine in a while…”

Chan moved from the doorway and allowed for the Princess to leave first with Cookie cradled in her arms as he followed behind. As he passed Byulyi in the hall, he informed the maid that the Princess would take her tea outside. Byulyi nodded and watched as the Princess left the butterfly house with Chan behind her. 

In the garden, Namjoon plucked and pulled weeds from the soil as well as rearranged a few stones. His robes were simple since he had a lot of tasks to finish by the end of the day. A tan cross stitch blouse was tucked into a pair of loose fitted black trousers that had dirt on the knees. Sweat darkened the fabric of the shirt and stuck to his back as he worked endlessly and Seokjin sat behind him on a bench with a book in his hands as he read out loud. 

Seokjin was dressed nicely, as expected of the next royal advisor. The white cross collared shirt had a thick red neckline and dropped into a blue and white vertical striped skirt with a bold red sash tied around his waist. Seokjin wore a sheer white open cross collared jacket over top that had red and silver plantain lily flowers stitched along the wide sleeves that covered his knuckles.

Namjoon had a few rock cress and daffodils loosely potted that he had planned to add to the flowerbed in front of him. Footsteps crunched against the stone and Namjoon looked over his shoulder as Seokjin stopped reading. Princess Keena was in the distance with her head held high; she wore a red orange gele with her edges smoothed flat and pecking out. Thick gold hooped earrings caught in the sunlight and reflected against her sun-blessed skin. Namjoon and Seokjin stood and bowed low before a soft cry caught their attention. 

As Namjoon straightened up, he saw the tiger cub in the Princess’ arms and his face split into a large grin as the Princess walked closer.

“He is looking very well, Princess.” Namjoon reached out and scratched under the cub’s chin, only to laugh as the cub trapped his finger between its tiny paws. Seokjin smiled as he watched Namjoon interact with the cub and sat back on the bench.

“Cookie.”

“Parden?” Namjoon stared at the Princess, frozen in place as she smiled at him.

“His name,” she easily passed the cub to Namjoon and Namjoon buried his nose into the soft fur. “He picked Cookie.”

Namjoon swallowed thickly, and he bit his lip as his heart skipped a beat. “Cookie…I think that’s a wonderful name.”

The Princess grinned and Chan helped her sit on a bench that was across from the garden that Namjoon had been working on beside Seokjin. Princess Keena giggled as Seokjin winked at her and they watched as Namjoon kneeled on the ground. He carefully set Cookie beside him and went back to his work.

“How are your lessons? His Highness tells me you have a temporary etiquette tutor.” Seokjin questioned as he picked up the book beside him.

Chan melted away into the background as Seokjin coaxed the Princess into discussing her first lesson with the new tutor. Princess Keena watched silently as Namjoon created a pile of weeds beside him and Cookie jumped head first into it.

“I fear that we may not see eye to eye. She is archaic, or rather more traditional if I were to be polite.”

Seokjin chuckled at the Princess’ words and nodded his head, “Who has filled the tutoring position?” 

“Madam Theda Vonner-”

“That old bat?”

“Namjoon!” Seokjin’s tone was scolding but his eyes glittered in laughter.

“Forgive him, Princess.” Seokjin rolled his eyes as he turned his body towards her. “She comes from a proud family, old money that dates back to the third dynasty.”

“One's lineage does not give the right away to be callous nor rude.”

Namjoon snorted from his place on the ground and shook his head, “Callous is far too kind, Princess.”

Seokjin sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair that was falling into his face before he tucked it behind his ears. “What issues are you having with Madam Theda? Maybe it is something that I can assist with?” 

Before the Princess could answer Seokjin’s question, Hyejin and San showed up with tea and treats. San set a small plate on the ground in front of Cookie, and Namjoon watched as the tiny cub started to munch the small bites of food. Seokjin poured a cup of tea for the Princess and called for Namjoon to take a small break to enjoy the tea with them.

“She dislikes the Escistan garb and said I would bring shame to the Min Empire if I continued to wear them.”

“Nonsense!” Seokjin set his cup of tea down and grabbed the Princess’ free hand. “You are the Princess of Escistan and bride to the First Prince of the Min Empire; as such you are free to do as you please, Princess.”

Seokjin squeezed the Princess’ hand and shook his head, “Disregard her words, Princess. I think it is wonderful to see you so at ease here with us. Your garb is beautiful and I am always in awe when I see you around the palace grounds. Please,” Seokjin patted the Princess hand and smiled, “don’t change for us. If anything, allow the Min Empire to change for you.”

The Princess exhaled deeply and she looked down at their joined hands. Seokjin’s white robe started to blur as the Princess’ eyes burned. Her waterline flooded and she quickly blinked away her tears with a watery laugh as she sniffled. The smile that Seokjin offered was soft, and Namjoon sighed with a shake of his head.

“There’s going to be a light shower, you should head back inside.” Namjoon glanced at the sky as the bright blue had darkened.

“M-My apologies.” 

“There is nothing to apologize for, Princess.” Seokjin released his hold on her hand and stood to his full height. He offered his hand as Namjoon scooped Cookie up and stood as well. As the Princess was helped to her feet, the first few drops of rain started to fall and San appeared by her side with a red and yellow parasol. He held it up for the Princess and Namjoon handed over Cookie, so the little cub could stay dry.

“Enjoy your lessons, Princess,” Namjoon bowed and Seokjin followed suit before they watched the Princess disappear around the corner. 

Seokjin frowned and Namjoon sighed, “Should we inform Yoongi?”

“I think the Princess is more than capable of handling this herself,” Seokjin pointed out and Namjoon agreed. “Do you want help carrying everything inside?”

“You get inside before that book is ruined. I have a cart nearby.” 

“...So, Jungkook really fused with the tiger’s spirit?”

Namjoon nodded his head and dusted his hands off on his trousers. “Cookie…he really picked that, huh?”

“Who else?”

Later in the night, Prince Yoongi sat in the grass in front of the Gildows lake. The lemming ducks were gone for the night, tucked away in their mother’s warmth as they slumbered. As the Prince stared up at the endless sky, he turned his gaze to the moon. The silvery-white of the large orb made the Prince smile to himself. He was reminded of the banquet held in the Princess’ honor. The time they spent alone, gazing up at the night sky, much like he did now. The stars twinkled a silent poem as a cool breeze caressed the Prince’s ears with a soothing song. Fallen petals danced above the lake in the moon’s reflection and the Prince inhaled deeply as he closed his eyes. 

The soft crunch of the grass underfoot cut through nature’s serenade, and the sweet tang of tangerines flooded the Prince’s mind. His body relaxed farther and when the Prince opened his eyes, the flutter of ivory and lilac blinded him. Beside him, the Princess lowered herself onto a thick blanket and folded her leg to the side. The ivory nightgown she wore was pretty and tempted the Prince with its innocence. The dress hung off her shoulders, hugged her breasts and flared downward until it covered her feet. 

Thin ribbons of lilac silk were threaded into the cotton dress at the bottom and pulled into tiny bows with rosewater colored beading stitched into the shape of lovely peonies. A lilac robe, silk of some kind, was worn over the nightgown with matching rosewater peony beading over the shoulders and down the sides. Large cutouts of peonies went down the length of the sleeves, stitched over with ivory lace.

Wordlessly, the Prince shifted his body and stretched out, his head now rested in the Princess’ lap as he stared up at her. Loose braids that were not tucked away in a ponytail hung over her shoulders and hid their faces from the prying eyes of Hoseok and Aga in the distance. Princess Keena cupped the Prince’s cheek in her hand as she leaned over him and he batted at the pewter crystals that were woven into her hair.

“What are you doing out at this hour, my gem?” 

The Princess smiled and smoothed her thumb over the apple of the Prince’s cheek. “I couldn’t sleep.” The Prince’s lips turned into a frown at her words and she smiled, “It is nothing to worry over, Pallas.”

The Prince snorted and tugged at her braids lightly, “And yet, here I worry.” He stared into her warm eyes and licked his lips. “Tell me what troubles you, Princess?”

A soft smile rested on her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes and the Prince raised an eyebrow. The Princess leaned down farther and closed her eyes as she rested her forehead against the Prince’s. 

“You won’t answer me?”

“Would you send me away if I chose not to?”

The Prince stared at the Princess’ face silently and quickly rolled them forward. The Princess chirped in surprise and giggled now that she was sprawled out on the grass with her head in the Prince’s lap. Prince Yoongi bent his knees as he lifted the Princess and leaned down. Their lips touched with the grace of a butterfly and warmth of the sun. It was a silent answer to her question, one that was loud and clear between the two. The pressure of the kiss increased, the heat in the pit of their stomachs spread and sunk lower, and lower. The Prince growled deep in his chest and nipped at the plush lips before him.

He soothed the lingering pain with the teasing touch of his tongue as he kissed more and more. Honey, sweet and addicting. Sage, sharp and grounding. As they pulled away the scent of flowers lingered in the air, soft and fleeting. The night’s silent melody was no more, replaced by thundering hearts and panted breaths. Slowly, as the Prince pulled away, a gossamer strand of saliva hung between their lips and he chuckled. He swiped his thumb over the Princess’ lower lip and broke the wet connection before he pecked her lips once more.

“Have I not shown that my days are yours? I will give you many more without question. I am only but a shout away if you ever need me, Princess. Ask and I will answer, always.”

“Thank you, my Prince.”

Carefully, the young royals stood to their feet, and the Prince laced his fingers with the Princess, “Let us retire to our chambers. I have a gift for you.”

Together, arm in arm, the young royal walked along the stone and sand paths that led into the palace. Servants that worked late all bowed low and whispered about the couple as they passed. Hoseok and Aga glared at them all; it was improper for servants to whisper so freely when they should have all held their tongues. The Prince led the Princess into his chambers and she sat on the settee while he disappeared into his sleeping chamber.

Aga and Hoseok stood by the entrance of the Prince’s chambers and watched as the Prince emerged with a small box in his hands. He kneeled before the Princess and Hoseok’s eyes widened while Aga’s lips pulled upwards in the corners. 

Prince Yoongi placed the box in the Princess’ lap and kissed the knuckles of her hands before he spoke. “Duttu sends her regards and thanks you for showing such trust in her skills.” He stayed kneeled before the Princess, his hands pressed softly against the top of her knees and Princess Keena bit her bottom lip. 

Slowly, she opened the plain chestnut box and inside sat a black leather collar. A beautiful gold name plate with Cookie’s name carved into the center of Ginkgo leaves that were embossed into the leather. The collar was simple and elegant, perfect for the rambunctious cub that would wear it later.

The Princess’ fingers brushed over Cookie’s name and she smiled, as her free hand rested over the Prince’s. “I know Cookie will love it. Thank you, my Prince.” 

A shy but proud smile pulled at the Prince’s lips and he gave the Princess’ knees a light squeeze. “Byenvini.”

The Princess’ eyes widened as the Prince spoke a simple Escistan phrase and he looked so shy that the Princess laughed. 

“Did I say it correctly?” The Prince asked, worried that he had mispronounced the word of thanks and Princess Keena shook her head.

"Ou fè byen."

He smiled at the Princess’ words and leaned forward to capture her lips. The kiss was soothing, a pleasant weight settled in both the young royals' hearts as they pulled away.

"Ou fè byen," Prince Yoongi whispered and the Princess giggled. "You do well."

The days seemingly bled into each other as Princess Keena continued with her lessons. Madam Theda was not pleased to see the Princess in the Escistain garb but she made no comments on the matter. Madam Theda’s lessons were exhausting; the Princess felt like she had fallen behind during the day and had started to spend her nights with etiquette books and scrolls in front of her. She had Byulyi, Wheein, and Hyejin, and even her guards help her during breaks between lessons. 

The Prince had noticed that he only had the Princess’ attention during their time together at lunch and their last meal of the night was split between himself and his parents. Empress Min asked about the Princess’ lessons and was pleased to hear that the Princess had no complaints. Things were moving along and the Prince was pleased to know that the Princess was preoccupied. 

As the day of the night market grew closer and closer, the Prince had a lot to prepare for and he did so when Hoseok wasn’t around. San and Kai were helpful and acted on the Prince’s behalf while Minho carried out his own orders from the Prince. Things had become hectic within the palace as everyone prepared for the engagement announcement. With only eight days left, everyone had felt the pressure. 

“Again!” Madam Theda smacked a bamboo cane against her palm as she stared at the fallen stack of books on the floor. 

Mingi stood against the wall, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. His jaw was locked and tense as he bit his tongue. Chan and San had told him how blatantly disrespectful Madam Theda had been to the Princess and asked him to stand in during one of the lessons. Mingi had thought that the younger guards had over reacted since the Princess had not spoken up, but now he understood. Mingi felt sick, his stomach churned, and his heart beated quickly in his chest as he watched the Princess pick up the fallen book. She straightened them out and walked across the room with them in her hands before she turned to face the entrance of the room. 

Wheein took the books and carefully placed them on top of the Princess’ head with a frown on her face. As the Princess straightened her back, Wheein removed her hands and stepped back. The books didn’t move and the Princess took a step forward, then another followed by another. She kept her eyes forward and looked straight ahead as she walked. The books started to wobble and Madam Theda narrowed her eyes. Mingi watched with bated breath as the books tipped to one side and slipped off the Princess’ head.

Madam Theda clicked her tongue and Mingi stepped forwards, “That is enough. Move on to the next-”

“Silence!” Madam Theda swung her cane and smacked Mingi in his thigh. He clenched his jaw in pain but stood strong as his thigh plused. He knew there would be a nice sized welt.

“Mingi!” The Princess rushed to his side and he waved her off.

“A royal does not shout nor show care for those of lower rank. A mere guard does not speak out of turn.” Madam Theda voiced with a frown set on her face.

Princess Keena’s eyes slowly shifted from brown to silver and she smoothed down the skirt of her emerald green iro before she touched the large braided buns that sat on her head. She had opted out of wearing heavy hair accessories and focused on her outfit to show Madam Theda just how wonderful the Escistan grab truly was. She wore a celadon blouse that had a keyhole in the center with gold beading on the lantern sleeves in a swirled pattern. A golden getzner pele was tied over her skirt and pulled the whole outfit together.

The Princess folded her hands in front of herself and looked Madam Theda in her eyes, “You are dismissed for today, Madam Theda.”

“Parden?”

“You are dismissed!” The Princess raised her voice, but she didn’t yell nor did she return the glare that the older woman sent her way. “For you act of violence against one of my attendants, your pay will be docked by half-”

“You-”

“You should be thankful that this is all I will take away for your transgression.” The threat was loud and clear as the Princess stared at the older woman. “Have a good day, Madam Theda. Now, if you’ll excuse us-” Princess Keena bowed her head and gathered the skirt of her emerald green iro. Wheein hurried past Madam Theda and opened the door before she stepped to the side and waited for the Princess to leave first. Mingi stepped out of the room and Wheein bowed before she followed after them.

Outside of the room, Princess Keena took short inhales of air and remained silent until she stepped out of the butterfly house. She turned to Mingi and frowned, “Wheein, take Mingi to the doctor.” She held her hand up as Mingi opened his mouth. “I understand that it is not a life threatening wound, but pain is pain. Get treated and return to your post after a break. I will remain here in the garden.”

Mingi sighed but bowed his head and whistled loudly. A few moments later, Wonho appeared and took over guarding the Princess. She said nothing as she walked around the garden’s outside and the silver melted into brown once more. Wonho kept his distance and when he noticed Kwangseon with his wife, Ellarian at his side, Wonho informed the Princess. 

“Let’s not keep them waiting.” 

The smile returned to the Princess’ face and Wonho followed behind her as they stepped back into the butterfly house. As they entered the house, Hyunjin jumped at the sight of the Princess and quickly bowed. His robes were covered in paint and there was a smudge of white paint on his forehead which made the Princess giggle. Hyunjin was the artist that Namjoon had commissioned in place of Jungkook and he was a shy young man. Dark purple hair that he kept out of his face with a headband was always tied in a low ponytail. He had striking indigo eyes with a tiny beauty mark under the left one that was endearing to everyone who noticed it.

“Are you taking a break, Hyunjin?”

“Y-Yes, Your Highness…u-um, I have completed m-most of the-”

“Hyunjin, breath,” the Princess smiled as she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Enjoy your break. I am looking forward to seeing your finished work.” Princess Keena bowed her head and continued into the house with Wonho right behind her.

As the Princess settled back into the lesson room, she smoothed down her skirt and glanced out the window. Chan walked by with Cookie tucked underneath his arm, his new collar shinned against his fur. The cub had become somewhat of a menace since he came to the palace and it made the Princess smile. Cookie was a playful and curious cub, he always got into something but at the end of the day when the Princess was settling down for the night, he would curl up in her lap and drift off to sleep. She wondered what the cub had managed to get into for Chan to have been the one to grab him.

The door to the room slid open and Ellarian grinned at the sight of the Princess’ smiling face. 

“Oh, I see we have a new partner today. Hello, Wonho!” Kwangseon looked thrilled as he greeted the guard and Wonho bowed his head as his ears turned a bright red.

“How were your lessons today, Princess?” Ellarian asked as she helped her husband set up the different instruments for the day's lesson.

“It is another day complete in the eyes of the Empire.”

Ellarian laughed and nodded her head in agreement. She understood the Princess’ words. Lessons were lessons and they would not all be fun to learn. 

“Shall we continue with the Buchaaechum dance?” Kwangseon offered as he sat behind his haegeum and cracked his knuckles. 

“That is a wise decision. Princess, what do you recall from our lesson yesterday?”

The rest of the time during the Princess' lessons went by easily enough. Madam Theda spoke no more of the Princess’ Escistan garb and taught her everything that Lady Zarrin had not touched on. The lessons were hard but no longer had Madam Theda tried to push the Princess past her limits. Madam Theda’s attitude towards the Princess was still strict but there was an air of respect that had not been there before. The Princess considered it a small victory while her guards felt their hearts swell with pride. The Princess would be a great Empress once it was her time to step into the role.

Four days before the engagement announcement, Empress Min had called for the Princess and they sat in her chambers with tea and treats between them. Empress Min wore a beautiful iris colored seuran chima with a pale olive dangui on top. Her hair was braided and tucked into elegant loops that resembled two butterfly orchids decorated with four tteoljams and pinned with a golden eastern dragon that had ruby’s for its eyes. As she sipped at her tea, Empress Min smiled at the cub that sat beside the Princess. Gingko spirits were rare and she had never seen one in person before, Cookie was as cute as he was beautiful.

“Are you excited for the announcement, my dear? It is right around the corner.”

Princess Keena swallowed the bite of sponge cake in her mouth and licked her lips in thought. Was she excited for the citizens of the Min Empire to know who she was and what her role in their society would be?

“I will admit that I do hold some reservations about the announcement but I understand that it must be done.”

Empress Min understood the Princess’ worries; she remembered how she felt when she was first engaged to the Emperor. 

“Is there anything I can do within my power to make the announcement less taxing on you, my dear Keena?”

“You and His Majesty have been kind enough to grant me such wonderful freedom within the palace. I have everything at my disposal and there is little that I wish for…” Princess Keena stroked the top of Cookie’s head and scratched behind his ears. “The worry lies within my own heart. I fear that I will not be the Empress that this empire deserves.” 

“I disagree with you Princess.” Empress Min’s words were firm as she stared right at the Princess. “You have shown an unbelievable amount of wonderful qualities that will make you a true Empress of this nation.” Empress Min set her tea cup on the table and nodded her head to the attendant closest to the door. 

“I have called for the best dressmaker in our empire. She will make your dress for the announcement, as well as the one for your wedding.”

Princess Keena turned her attention to the door and an older woman with blueish-white hair that was pulled into a neat updo bun stepped into the threshold. The bun showed that she had deep blue cat ears that sat proudly on top of her head and the Princess was in awe. 

“Crown Princess Keena, this is Menzo. She has served members of the royal court for the last two generations while her family has served since the Taebong era.”

Menzo looked kind with pale peach feline eyes that were framed by crow’s lines and tear troughs on her cognac-toned skin. They were slanted towards a sharp and slender nose that was over a set of demure lips bordered by deep frown lines. She wore a simple taupe kurta that had black beading on the hem of her sleeves with matching palazzo pants that hung loosely around her legs. A sage green dupatta with black and taupe beading stitched throughout in a flower pattern rested over Menzo’s shoulders, and she bowed low. Her tail was blueish-white with a deep blue tip and swayed lazily behind her once she stood upright and offered the Princess a warm smile.

“It is an honor, Your Highness.”

Cookie mewled from the Princess’ side and Menzo grinned, her canines sharper than a humans. 

“Hello, little one.” She bowed her head and Princess Keena knew that she would enjoy her time with the nekojin.

The Princess stood with Cookie in her arms and Empress Min held out her hands, “Give him here. Menzo will need your full attention.”

Cookie sat beside Empress Min while the nekojin tailor took the Princess’ measurements and held up different fabrics against her body. Menzo asked different questions and made notes in a small booklet that she pulled from the satchel that rested on her hip. The Princess was grateful that Menzo seemed to really listen and take her wants into account. If she was to stand before the citizens of the Min Empire, she wanted to show a combined front. The Escistan Kingdom intermingled and woven tightly together with the Min Empire. That is all the Princess wanted to show with the Prince by her side.

Alone in her chambers, Princess Keena laid in bed, wide awake. Her mind raced as she thought about the upcoming announcement. It was two days away and she feared that something would go wrong. A soothing breeze crept in from the lattice cut windows and the soft blue curtains that hung from the bedpost swayed gently. An earthy scent wrapped in warm spice rode the breeze and lingered just outside of the window. The Princess sat upright, the covers held close to her chest as her eyes sparkled in the cool moonlight that caught her gaze. A shadow danced along the wall and soon the Prince dropped down from the ceiling. 

He wore a white kimono that was dyed a deep grey at the bottom with large white spider lilies that wrapped around the bottom. A grey and black obi was tied around his waist and a black jaori was worn over top. His blonde hair was pulled away from his face in a loose bun on the back of his neck and he was free from jewelry. 

“You are asking for a repeat of last time, my Prince.” The Princess’ voice was nothing more than a scolding whisper as she frowned. 

A fanged smile slid onto the Prince’s face and he held out his hand as he stood at the foot of the Princess’ bed. He wiggled his fingers and his eyes flashed a tempting gold before he licked his lips. “Come, I have a surprise for you, my gem.”

Still in bed, the Princess eyed his outstretched hand and tried to fight the smile that pulled at her lips. “Aga would kill you if he knew you were here.” 

“He has to catch me first.”

The covers were released from the Princess’ hold and the Prince’s eyes narrowed as he took in the bare skin of her shoulders. There was nothing to the nightgown, the Prince thought to himself. Thin straps held the dress to her body while satin and delicate alabaster lace clung to the Princess’ chest.  As she crawled towards the foot of the bed, the strap on her left shoulder fell and the Prince bit his lower lip. 

The Princess was tempting, so very, very tempting. Her braids were down, the front pulled back into a low ponytail while the rest hung freely at her back. A few slipped over her shoulders and the Prince inhaled deeply. As she placed her hand in his, the Prince pulled her close, chest to chest and wrapped an arm around her waist as he exhaled. He released her hand and cupped her cheek before he growled softly, almost like a purr.

“How easily you tempt my patience without much thought.”

Their noses brushed against each other’s as the Prince closed the distance and he inhaled the tangy scent of citrus and honey.

“Cover yourself for my sanity…” As his lips pressed against the Princess’, his fingers dug into her waist and the Princess moaned softly. “Ashii-” Prince Yoongi pulled away and rested his forehead against the Princess’ collarbone on her left side as he inhaled deeply. “Such a pretty sound…” His lips ghosted over the exposed skin and the Princess shivered. Her nimble fingers found the bun that rested against the nape of his neck and she pulled his hair free. A waterfall of blonde covered the back of his haori and the Princess sighed.

“There is a r-robe by the-” The Princess’ breath hitched as the Prince’s tongue licked at the skin where her shoulder and neck joined. “My P-Prince…” Her fingers tangled in his hair and she pulled lightly to which the Prince nipped at her flesh.

“Just a taste, my gem?”

She could feel her willpower crumbling with each swipe of the Prince’s tongue. The warmth in her stomach grew and started to inch lower and lower. Blood rushed behind her ears and she yanked on the Prince’s hair harder. His head jerked back and he licked his split slick lips as he flashed that dazzling gummy smile with a solid ring of gold around his dark irises.

“My surprise?” The Princess’ question was whispered and the Prince’s upper right lip quirked as he smirked and pulled away from the Princess once she released his hair.

Carefully, the Princess sat on the bed and before her feet could touch the floor, the Prince was on his knees before her with slippers in his hands. Heat kissed her cheeks and warmed her neck as he slipped the cream colored slippers onto her bare feet and kissed her ankles. As he stood up, he removed his haori and placed it over the Princess’ shoulders. Sage and ginger seeped into her skin as the fabric of the outer jacket rubbed against her neck. It was comforting and settled the wild heart in her chest as she grabbed hold of the Prince’s hand once more.

Prince Yoongi led the Princess through her room until they reached the sitting area where three settees were placed around a large table in different shades of blue, with white and gold accent pillows. Cookie was sound asleep in his playpen, curled around a wooden toy that Namjoon had carved by hand to help with his teething. There was a box on the oak table, about two feet long in width and height. As they sat beside each other, Prince Yoongi grabbed the box and placed it on the Princess’ lap.

“You spoil me, my Prince.”

The Prince rolled his eyes at the Princess’ words and silently encouraged her to open the gift. Carefully, she untied the gold ribbon and slowly lifted the lid of the box. In the box a sand colored jeogori with thick beige cuffing sat on top of a beige pleated chima. It was a very simple and plain hanbok to which the Princess raised an eyebrow. The Prince chuckled as he saw the silent questions in the Princess' eyes and he kept quiet. 

Also in the box was a pair of cream and sand colored hwahye shoes. A norigae was hidden between the shoes and it was beautiful in its simplicity. A cognac floral design in the shape of a rose acted as the base with a polished star garnet at the center that had a pearl butterfly on it, followed by the fluffy cognac tassel wrapped in gold thread that finished it. 

“I have another gift.”

The Princess looked at the Prince beside her and clicked her tongue, “What are you planning, my Prince?”

Prince Yoongi grinned something devilish as he reached inside of his kimono and pulled out a cream silk ribbon with gold larch and lupine flowers embroidered at the ends.

“Am I not allowed to gift my soon-to-be wife a night of wonders?”

As the Prince placed the daenggi in the box, he leaned forward and captured the Princess’ lips in a soft kiss. He shifted closer and the box fell to the floor, ignored as he pulled the Princess into his lap and pushed his haori onto the floor. Her hands tangled in his hair as she settled herself in his lap, her knees bent on either side of his thighs.

He squeezed her hips and groaned as the Princess nipped at his lower lip. As the kissing went on, it became heavier and needier. Soft nips became pinched lips between teeth that were soothed by wet tongues. Hands that squeezed became hands that slid from place to place in search of more skin. 

The heat between the young royals was thick, and when the Princess felt a firmness underneath her, she gasped into the kiss. The Prince was aroused, he strained underneath his kimono and he wished to pull more sweet sounds from her swollen lips. He trailed a path of wet kisses from her mouth to her shoulder and lower.

As her head lolled backwards, the wet trail became slick and smooth as the Prince licked at the skin from her shoulder to the tops of her breasts. A sudden flora aroma made him growl and buck his hips upwards to which the Princess moaned. Her legs tensed around his thighs and she fisted the collar of his kimono tightly.

“Oh?” The Prince made a show as he lifted his nose in the air and inhaled deeply. His irises now had a thicker golden ring around them. “What a lovely scent,” he purred as he licked his lips. The tip of his tongue was now forked but still pink and he hummed in delight as the Princess whined.

“Y-Yoongi.” His name was a stuttered whisper, a plea for something more than wet kisses.

“I know, my gem…I know.” 

The Prince trailed his lips softly up the length of the Princess’ neck, along her jaw and pressed a sweet, slow kiss to her lips. They fused together, tongues tasted the other’s mouth and the Princess bit down on his tongue lightly. Prince Yoongi chuckled and sucked the Princess’ lower lip into his mouth before he bit down roughly and pulled away. The sweet heady scent of liquid honey flooded the Prince’s sinuses and his body shuttered.

“Just a taste, my gem. Wouldn’t want Aga to kill me, hmm?”

Wordlessly, he maneuvered their bodies and held onto the back of the Princess’ thighs before he stood up and strode into her bedchambers. He placed one knee on the bed and climbed on before he crawled forward to place the Princess in the center. As he pulled away, her nightgown was askew, shoulder straps draped low on her arms, the bottom bunched high on her thighs, hardly covered the mound between her legs and the Prince licked his lips. As he sat back on his bent legs, he drew random shapes on the Princess’ knee and upper thigh with his blunt nails. His eyes drank in every shiver, every goosebump, and every fluttering breath that left the Princess’ lips. 

She was divine, bathed in the cool, silver milky glow of the moon that filtered in from the window. An offering, all on her own. Laid out before the Prince’s eyes, for him only. To touch and he did as he cupped the Princess’ cheek in one hand. To taste and he did, the moment his lips pressed upon hers, their tongues swirled and teased. To have over and over and over again. 

Prince Yoongi kept his touches soft yet firm as he moved his kisses lower and lower down the Princess’ body. He kissed the soft skin of her chest, over the covered pebbled nipples and skimmed his nose down her stomach. He paused and nuzzled his nose into the fabric that covered her womb. The Princess shivered and she ran a hand down her torso until her fingers twined in the Prince’s blond locks. 

“Why are you down there?”

The question made the Prince smirk, how innocent his wife-to-be was. His hands slid down to her thighs and massaged the thick muscles and skin. He nosed at the apex of her mound and kissed the warm skin as her nightgown shifted once more.

“I want to worship you. Give thanks to the ancient dragons who came before and offer them my-” the Prince placed a kiss to where the Princess’ thigh and hip joined, “silent praise…if you would grant me such an honor?”

The Princess couldn’t understand the words. It was all unfamiliar to her but the heat and wetness between her thighs, that was enough for her as she nodded her head. Prince Yoongi left open mouth kisses on her inner thighs before he settled himself on his stomach and wrapped one arm around the Princess’ waist to hold her down. He inched closer and closer to the leaking warmth that called to him. The sweet scent of honey, so much stronger there than anywhere else on the Princess’ body. She had dark curls of hair, trimmed neatly and kept low. It made his mouth water as the clear essence of her arousal coated her skin.

He leaned in and swiped his forked tongue from her perineum to her clit. The Princess’ thighs snapped closed around his head, his cheeks squished together as she gasped.

The Prince moaned at the taste, “Mmmmm, my gem. So good for me.”

Again he licked at her opening and the Princess’ eyes squeezed closed. It was different, not unpleasant, but different. As the Prince continued to lick, he changed his rhythm and motions. His tongue technique switched from fast to slow, shallow to deep, long to short…it pulled sounds from the Princess that she had never made before. Prince Yoongi pinched at her hip as he spoke from between her legs, “Shhhh. Bite the pillow to muffle your pretty sounds…I can’t have Aga or anyone else seeing you like this.”

The Princess nodded her head, unable to speak as tears collected in the corner of her eyes. Blindly, she reached for a pillow and dragged it over her mouth. As the Prince wrapped his plush lips around her clit and sucked hard, she screamed into the pillow. He swallowed down every ounce of liquid that touched his tongue, slurped up everything that the Princess offered. Her muffled cries were the sweetest sound that he had ever heard and with her thighs squeezed tightly around his head, the Prince had reached the gates of those before him.

He had never come untouched but he felt close enough with how hard he was; it was painful but his pain only added to his pleasure as the Princess whined and thrashed above him. The hand in his hair pushed him away and pulled him closer, it was the constant sting at the base of his scalp that pushed him to dive his tongue deep into the Princess’ warmth and the cry that spilled from her lips was beautiful. Her wall clenched around him, he felt the skin of his cheek grind against his teeth and more wetness flooded his mouth.

Endless tremors raked over the Princess’ body and Prince Yoongi groaned as he wiggled free from the headlock. He shifted upwards on the bed, now on his knees and released himself from the damp fabric of his kimono. His hand wrapped around himself and he threw his head back as the Princess’ fluttering eyes watched him. He growled, deep in his chest as he covered her thigh and stomach in his cum. Honey and sage mixed together in the air and as the Prince’s skin flushed with a red hue, he collapsed beside the Princess with his chest heaving. Together they caught their breaths and as the Princess tried to move, Prince Yoongi hissed.

“Stay.” It was rough, the single word coated in an unfiltered need to mark what was his. Silently, the Prince raised his arms and set his hand on the Princess’ stomach. She made a sound of disgust as the warmth of his cum had faded into cool ropes of his very being. The Prince leaned upward and nosed at the Princess’ jaw as he rubbed his cum into her skin. He licked and nipped at her jaw until he focused on the scent gland at her throat and licked at the sensitive spot. Princess Keena shivered, her body felt like it was underwater, flouting through an endless stream with the Prince’s hands slowly guiding her along. 

“Hide the gift from your maids and wait for my call on the night of our announcement.” The Prince’s voice was gravely as he spoke in the Princess’ ear. His lips wet as he kissed her lobe and temple. “Will you wait for me, my gem?”

Princess Keena turned her head and cupped his face in her hands, “Always.” 

The day of the announcement, the air was humid and buzzed with voices as the townspeople closest to the palace gathered in the arena towards the west gate. Throughout the Min empire, messengers rode since the day before with news of the Crown Prince’s engagement. Today the news would be shared with the townspeople and everyone who lived within the palace walls was on high alert. The arena wasn’t used often. It was a place for public executions and court sponsored entertainment for the townspeople. It was rare for everyone to be gathered in one place, but the townspeople woke up two days ago to handwritten notices from the Emperor that everyone was encouraged to join them in the area for a wonderful announcement.

Seokjin and Namjoon are dressed in the finest of robes; whites, creams and silver made up most of the court’s attire as they entered the arena. Slowly the crowd started to settle as more and more officials filed into their seats. Streamers hung from the rafters, paper lanterns in the shape of dragons and flowers were strung on sturdy twine rope that connected from section to section. A small band of musicians played in the middle of the arena, all dressed in matching  yellow and white hanboks while another group danced around in colorful bedlahs and butterfly hanfus. The female dancers all had their hair down in long flowing waves with beaded and jeweled headpieces on display as they lept in the air and twirled on their bare feet.

Thick white smoke wafted in the air and carried the scent of takoyaki, dango, corn and other tasty treats from small venders that set up shop early that morning by the gate. Guards were dressed in their dress attire for the announcement. A green brocade button-down jacket that stopped just below their knees, with white trousers and a thick black leather belt fastened around their waist made up the base of the outfit for the royal guard. Depending on the rank of the guard, there was a white lotus flower stitched onto the inner sleeve of their jacket. Hoseok’s attire was the same but his colors were indigo and black. 

Aga and the other guards that watched over the Princess wore a different uniform that combined the two nations’ styles. A indigo, white, and black dashiki was tucked into a pair of black hakamas. A white open cross collar outer jacket with a black hamerkop bird on the back was worn over top with matching indigo headbands that completed the outfit. As more guards filed into the area, the dancers cleared the arena grounds and sat off to the side while the band switched to a slower song. 

Everyone in the arena rose to their feet and bowed low as Emperor and Empress Min appeared at the top of the arena. They wore matching black hanfus with a golden nightingale pattern. A large golden five-toed dragon was on the Emperor’s back surrounded by nightingales, while the Empress had a golden five-toed dragon on each of her shoulders and bottom of her sleeves.

They were a sight to see, elegant and powerful as they greeted their subjects with stern faces. Four intricately carved outdoor thrones were arranged at the front of the arena, where the royals were seated above everyone on a fenced riser. As they were seated, the rest of those in attendance sat, and once again the dancers took to the center of the arena. A jester performed, followed by two singers, before Emperor Chungho signaled the eunuch behind him to move forward with the day's events. As the older man stepped forward a hush fell over the arena and he pulled a rolled scroll from the inner pocket of his robes.

Princess Keena stood outside her room with her guards surrounding her. Byulyi, Wheein and Hyejin stayed behind her and walked with their heads bowed as they made their way to the Prince’s chambers. Aga led the way as Mingi and Chan flanked his sides. Today was a big day and no one took any chances of the Princess or Prince being harmed. 

As they reached the Prince’s chambers, Hoseok grinned at the sight of the Princess. She was stunning in her attire and he knew that the Prince would feel the same way. Hoseok opened the door and stepped inside quickly to inform Prince Yoongi that the Princess was ready. Prince Yoongi stood from his seat behind his desk and swallowed thickly. His hair was pulled from his face and piled high on top of his hair in his signature topknot with a golden donggot; a dragon with ruby eyes and rose quartz petunias clutched in its mouth was carved at the end. Three small golden hoops clung to each of the Prince’s ears while a single earring hung from his left lobe, five rose quartz teardrops set in gold.

The day before the announcement, Menzo approached the Prince with new garments that would complement the Princess’ attire. She expressed the urgency of the Prince wearing the clothing and he did not understand why until today, once his attendants started to dress him. He wore an orchid color cross collared blouse that was tucked into a matching qun - skirt - that had a carafe and violet square patterned design along the hem. An orchid agbada was worn over top with the same matching square patterned design from the qun down the sides and around the hemming. His manggeon was replaced with a violet headband that had a gold hamerkop bird on the ends.

It wasn’t much different from what he wore in terms of style, but the colors were bright and eye-catching. As he inhaled through his nose, the Prince held his head high and followed Hoseok out the doors of his chamber. His eyes found the Princess immediately and his eyes flashed gold before a black plume of smoke huffed from his nose. They wore matching colors and it stirred a deep desire in Agust as he crawled in the Prince’s gut.

“You look…like a Queen.”

A rose quartz colored gele was on her head, folded and twisted into a crown in its own right. Pink diamonds and pearls were scattered over it with meori-kkoji pins on it as well. An orchid cross collared ru was tucked into an ankara patterned iro in carafe and violet. A rose quartz pele was wrapped around her waist and an orchid outer robe was worn over everything with a golden four-toed dragon on the back. The Princess smiled as heat attacked her face, and she offered the Prince her hand. 

“Shall we, my Prince?”

“In a moment, Princess.”

Prince Yoongi held out his hand and Hoseok placed something in his palm. He walked to the Princess and took her outstretched hand in his own before he kissed her knuckles. She still wore his rings on her right hand and he grinned since her left hand was bare. Silently he raised his hand and slipped a gold ring onto the Princess’ ring finger. Her eyes widened and Prince Yoongi winked as he released her hand. She looked at the ring in awe, it was a plain gold band that split into tiny branches that held an emerald cut smoky quartz gem the size of a lima bean.

“Shall we, my gem?” 

[ungodly-amounts-of-godly-trauma]

wotw round 1

propaganda under the cut!

leliana:

shes a companion in the first game and a major character in the third. between these games she becomes the spymaster for the girlpope and actively aids in and supports its various atrocities. this is NEVER EVER AKNOWLEDGED BY THE FANDOM. this isnt a bit! i go through her tag on ao3 and tumblr regularly and NO ONE TALKS ABOUT THIS??? all her content about her romance is fluffy and nice (which. Um. Yeah im sure thats not due to lesbophobia at all. (shes bi, but the majority of people who romance her do so as a woman)) EVEN DURING THE TIME PERIOD WHERE SHE IS APART OF THE ORGANIZATION THAT IS DOING LIKE SIX SEPARATE GENOCIDES AT ONCE AND IS ACTIVELY DISENFRANCHISING THE PEOPLES THAT HER LOVER CAN BELONG TO???? HUH??? just because she Says she supports certain things (and to her credit she does later. just way after the helping with genocide) does not erase her active role in furthering the oppression of various peoples in thedas. this isnt even getting into all of her other more minor flaws people erase all the time(i am very tired but otherwise i WOULD) if only because this is enough. Can people please please like women without pretending they dont have flaws come the fuck on

martin blackwood:

listen my memory of this podcast is so loose BUT in canon he's a cunning and competent person, he actively works to sabotage the evil organization he's forced to work for, he gets trapped in a sort of limbo-state version of reality meant to isolate him from the world and decides on his own to try to get out instead of submitting to it, he was literally theorized to be working for the Web by some people and YET everyone just sort of takes the way he was in s1 (in love with the main character, very timid, etc) and ignores all of his character development 👍 there are some major martin soldiers who could explain this better

he's great actually he's committed minor arson. he killed his boyfriend (necessary). he's got incredible mommy issues. he's manipulative. he's angry and wonderful and kind and the fandom has dumbed him down to this uwu chubby tea lover softboi and i HATE IT

Hated by his sick single mother, but still cared for her till she died. Spent two weeks trapped in his apartment by a worm lady and didn't lose his head. Always tries to be kind and give people tea, but beware the nice ones. He will murder you once the apocalypse comes around. Especially if you hurt him or his boyfriend. The fandom may sometimes only remember the tea and the meekness but don't be fooled!

so many things. mainly a shitty mom and Spooky Depression though

[midnightprelude]

Middy's DA Create-a-Thon Masterpost

This year I made a bunch of different works for the @dacreateathon, including fic, recipes, crochet, and podfic! Here is a post of everything I made for the event this year. :)

Fanfiction:

The following works are part of a large collaboration called A Night to Remember with Team Orlais. All of the works are set at an Orlesian ball at some point between the end of Inquisition and start of Trespasser.

Madame Volants' Guide to the Grand Game

Rating: G

Madame Volants invites you to the Monmarte Ball, where excitement abounds and characters from the Dragon Age series will certainly have an unforgettable evening.

Notes from the Chateau Lierre Kitchens

Rating: G

A few moments from an Orlesian kitchen, featuring recipes for Remy Ducasse's macarons and Alienage quiche.

Stealing Glances, written with @oftachancer

Rating: T

Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Rilienus

Word Count: 5K

Rilienus has a job to do, but how can he resist the handsome Alti who keeps getting in his way?

More Fanfiction (not associated with the Orlais collab):

The Vault that Dreams Might Fill, with @oftachancer

Rating: M

Relationships: Karl Thekla/Dorian Pavus, mentioned Karl Thekla/Anders/F!Hawke

Word Count: 33K

In 9:41, a book was found in Therinfal Redoubt that held a long-held secret about Tranquility. Karl Thekla needs to learn that secret. He needs it like he needs to breathe. Though it is risky, he sets off to pursue a solution to the endless cycle of Tranquility and raw awareness he has been living through for nearly ten years.

This work is the seventh part of 'The Mortice and the Tenon' Arc, which follows the alternate history of Karl Thekla and Anders. This series can be read alone, but if you're curious to learn more details of their history to this point, please enjoy earlier parts of the Arc.

Daylight, with @oftachancer

Rating: E

Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Rilienus

Word Count: 41K

In 9:31 Dragon, the Silver Lady of Churneau hosted a week-long fete to celebrate the end of the Fifth Blight. She invited guests from around Thedas to attend. This is where Dorian Pavus met Rilienus Maecilia and didn't have a chance to ask a question.

(This is a prequel to The Vault that Dreams Might Fill, but doesn't need to be read in that order).

Shredded Lace and New Leather, with @oftachancer

Rating: M

Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Rilienus

Word Count: 30K

After 10 years apart, Dorian and Rilienus are unexpectedly reunited.

(This is a sequel to Daylight and probably should be read in that order, but can also be read alone).

Friends After the Fall

Rating: G

Relationships: Merrill & Anders

Word Count: 2K

Merrill begins a correspondence with Anders after he flees Kirkwall. Includes a recipe for Anders' Apple Crisp.

Podfic:

Curiosity Crosses the Veil

Rating: T

Relationships: Spirit of Curiosity/Human OC, Female Surana & Female Amell & Jowan

Jowan's anxiety rises as he approaches the age to Harrow, and it's getting to his friends. Hamin decides to distract him with a story of Veil-crossed lovers.

Curiosity is a spirit who yearns to experience the waking world, Odric is the human she comes to love, and Envy is a demon who has dark designs on their union.

A storytelling fic set in the Kinloch Circle Tower, inspired by The Little Mermaid. Written and recorded for Create-a-thon 2024.

Ready to Rise and Fall

Rating: G

Relationships: Loghain Mac Tir/Rowan Guerrin

Musings on Loghain and Rowan before the final battle for freedom.

Originally written by Librivore42 and recorded by midnightprelude.

Crochet:

Baby Griffon

A crocheted baby griffon hatched just in time for the Dragon Age Create-a-Thon!

[theluckywizard]

In the Shattering of Things, Ch. 55: The Dead Outnumber the Living Part II

Chapter summary:

Rose, Hawke, Blackwall and Varric contend with an undead ambush and then continue onward to dine with the mayor. Their humble dinner in little, seemingly insignificant Crestwood village is tenser than Rose ever imagined it could be.

Fic Summary:

Lady Rose Trevelyan's idle, aristocratic life blinks out in a haze of irrelevance when the breach destroys the Conclave. She may be soft and coddled when she joins the Inquisition, but there's a fierceness inside her she's yet to fully recognize. Armed with only a few relevant skills and the mark that makes her a legend, she is thrust onto a path delivering hope where it’s long been scorched away and finds comfort in the grumpy, handsome stick in the mud charged with her protection and training. As she stumbles her way across southern Thedas, she begins to realize she's tangled at the center of machinations she barely understands, and she's not alone in that. Enter Hawke.

Excerpt Below the Jump ⏬

The following morning I delegate most of my companions into crews to accompany scouting missions— one resource gathering mission further to the north consisting of Solas, Vivienne and Cassandra another along the lake shore with Bull, Blackwall, Varric, Sera, and Hawke to further investigate the undead problem. Dorian remains in camp with Harding and I and I assume that Cole is around somewhere in the ether. He didn’t attend our morning meeting but he’s never far. 

“I’ve been meaning to catch you alone,” says Dorian, leaning against my desk where I’m scanning through an update missive from Leliana that Harding has decrypted for me. “How are you?”

“I’m keeping busy,” I say, pitching him a half smile.

“It’s been a week and a half. Have you heard anything from him?”

“You mean beyond his parade of dismally dry requests for signatures and permission to buy toys for our army?” I say. “Why? Do you think he’d send anything different?”

“You both care about each other.”

“I still have a foolish amount of hope inside me, but he drew a clear line. And logically I know I should accept it. Maker knows I’ll be more productive if I do.”

“If he weren’t such a self-flagellating sad sack—”

“ No . I don’t know what he told you, but he’s entitled to feel the way he does. I don’t like it, but I understand. It hurts . But I understand.”

“ Fasta vass , Rose,” Dorian sighs. “You two are infuriating. Whatever happened to talking things out like grown ups? Fighting for one another?”

“I’m sorry if we’ve disappointed you, Dorian. But some things aren’t a matter of fighting,” I tell him. “And clinging to hope is foolish. He made that perfectly clear.”

“Let me see these notes of his,” Dorian says, scanning my desk like he might stumble upon them.

“ Dorian .”

He sighs.

“I just need someone to be happy around here, I suppose,” he says into his folded hands. I reach over and squeeze his upper arm.

“And what about you?”

“ Me ?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t been making eyes at Bull these last several weeks. I may have prodded you about it while it was still a fleeting thought, but it’s a little harder to mistake now.”

“Rose, you were an appalling matchmaker then, you’re an appalling matchmaker now,” he says in an obvious deflection. The man never seems to blush, but he scratches his forehead in the sort of tell that satisfies me.

“Then I shall leave your stolen glances be for the moment. No harm in them.”

“Certainly no more numerous than your obvious looks at a certain celebrity hero.”

“Obvious? He’s the second biggest thing here next to Bull. There’s no avoiding looking at him.”

“And now you understand me!”

Read the chapter here Start the fic from the beginning

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[greypetrel]

me @ La Priscy

SIAU 💛

For the Rook Questionnaire: 14, 16, 23, and 26 - this one is the most dear to me as she's a descendant of our lady and savior Raccoon Queen

WELLA'!

Tis the prompt list

14: What hobbies does your Rook have?

She's a pro with makeup and hair. Would do your own make up if you let her. And she loves sewing. It started out of necessity, but she actually loves to keep up with her own clothes, modify what she buys, adding frills and personalize them. Watch her rhinestoning all of her shields.

16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas?

She fell in love with Assan the moment she saw him. Pestered Davrin non-stop until he agreed that she could adopt one of the Griffons, call them Feathers and bring them home to mama Merrill (OF COURSE). Otherwise she's a simple cat lady, but I guess nugs scare her for purely irrational reasons.

23: What do they do after an absolute crisis?

She takes the pressure quite well and beside all the frills is very practical. So, cry a little, take a self-care day. Beach and sunbathe, go shopping, a long bath, go and train and shield-bash something. Then, sit down and find a practical solution to the problem.

She'd be big on venting with some close friends, too.

26: What animal best represents your Rook?

You catch me unprepaired ahahahahahaha

Mh, I could answer hyena purely out of vibes. Strong, resilient, opportunistic but GREAT socially, good with pups, and laughing a lot. But this answer could change in the next week, so I'll keep you updated, LOL.

[starswritteninourscars]

Happy DADWC Friday! How about "Crushed Elfroot leaves" from the Artifacts of Thedas prompt list for the character or pairing of your choosing?

I went with non-Warden Cousland for this, and I'm fairly pleased with how it came out. Elissa has the spirits, but she's new at the experience thing. She's a long way from Inquisition Commander here.

Tagging @dadrunkwriting

The infirmary tents at Ostagar had a stench all their own, layered over the general smell of the war camp like a sheen of rancid oil over chicken soup gone bad. It smelled of elfroot and rot, spindleweed and vomit. Elissa Cousland avoided it for nearly a week after arriving before finally storming in the day the senior Grey Warden returned with his mage recruit.

“What is this?” she demanded, tossing a handful of crushed elfroot leaves on the camp desk where a middle-aged scribbled away in a ledger. Maybe he was the one in charge, maybe he was a clerk. Either way, he wasn’t currently saving someone’s life.

The man’s beady eyes blinked up at her through the curtain of hair that had fallen into his face.

“Who are you?” he said after a long pause.

“Elissa,” she said. “Elissa Cousland. This came in for our wounded not an hour past. What is it?”

The man gave her and the House Cousland heraldry on her tunic a once-over, bowed without standing, and picked up the leaves.

“It’s elfroot, my lady. Excellent for wounds, especially–”

“I know that,” Elissa snapped. “Specifically it’s gossamer elfroot. I sent an order for royal elfroot. Any competent herbalist should be able to tell the difference!”

“Just so, my lady,” the man replied. “But our stores of royal elfroot are limited. My lady’s brother reported relatively minor wounds. I have ordered what we have of the royal variety reserved for amputations and infections.”

Somewhere not too far off, a man’s moans turned abruptly to a wailing scream. Elissa felt her stomach drop

“How much do you have?”

He named a figure. A very low figure, for the size of the army.

“We are holding much of it here in the royal encampment, though of course the other infirmaries have some for emergencies,” he continued. “Already I have reports of underground trade among the officers.”

“I see,” Elissa said.

“I’m sure you do, my lady,” he said in a very neutral tone.

“I’m taking a patrol into the wilds tomorrow,” Elissa said. “I’ll bring back what I can.”

“My lady, I thank you for your generosity, but–”

“Serah,” Elissa cut in, “before you assume I am another blundering warrior who has never opened an herbal in her life: How many noblewomen have you known who could tell gossamer elfroot from bitter?”

“I must admit, Lady Elissa, that I am not acquainted with many women of that station,” he said, brushing greying hair out of his eyes and smearing ink across his cheek in the process. “Perhaps I should not have assumed.”

“Oh, you’d be right most of the time,” Elissa said, “but probably not. I’ve recently been reminded of the danger of assumptions.”