#modern mages

[erika-xero]

Hatter for @aevalentine

A charming fella from my friend's webcomic "Three Past Midnight" (which is only available in russian for now, but I hope that one day she will translate it into english too).

[cursedcupcakemaster]

no one asked me for this but fuck it this fandom deserves more

Warnings:fluff,implied depression, slight yandere themes

Notes:i do not own these characters these fictions are my interpretation of how they'd be in a relationship with someone, reader can be any species up to y'all, I use "you" for the reader reader is gender neutral,

Enjoy everyone~

Type: deluxe fruit tart

Thistle Relationship Headcanons

First of all you have your work cut out for you but please please love this elf as much as you possibly can

One thing I can describe this guy as is protective of you, look how far he went for his adoptive sibling, depending on the timeline he might not really let you leave the kingdom let alone the dungeon

Yall will need therapy, maybe twice a week and it takes a lot of convincing to make him go

There is a second thing I could describe Thistle as and that would be romantic when he really feels something

He probably serenades you using his lute and singing poems he made about the way you make him feel

Kisses are not often between you two but they're very gentle and sweet

He won't really cuddle with you unless it's bedtime, he holds you really tight as if he's scared of you disappearing like Delgal did sometimes you feel his tears soaking your clothes almost as if he's silently begging you to stay with him forever

May or may not have cast immortality on you to stay alive if you guys never left the dungeon

My bet is in the modern timeline he is a little less high strung thanks to your dates

Said dates are often walking through the woods, composing music together or bookstore dates

Let this man fiddle with your hair it calms his nerves and he likes styling it for you though he won't admit it out loud, he loves when you do his own hair not that he'd admit that either, it just comforts him with how gentle you are

Thistle may not be the best person but he overall does so much just because of how much he loves you

[thegnomelord]

What about Monster!AU for prompt 5. Male reader and price please :)

Sure thing anon, made it a mage reader again, was trying to study for a 'lovely' surprise test but inspiration decided to strike me :/. Play the game HERE

Prompt: “My feelings aren’t real and my heart’s a fucking idiot.”

CW:NSFW, switch/power bottom Dragon Price, Male Mage reader, Oral, Anal, shower sex, semi public sex, reader is oblivious for a bit.

Price swears his hair and scales are going to go completely gray because of you.

You've been avoiding him for a week now, and all the base knows why — Price can still hear your desperate voice begging and bargaining with whatever will listen "I'll buy you dinner please-just stay alive- I love you- damn it you slimy bastard don't you dare die on me-" as you try to keep him alive, magic flowing from your arms to heal the gaping hole in his side despite the bullets raining overhead; a valiant knight protecting him like he's a prince instead of a dragon.

And Price can remember the way his heart had fluttered at your words, at the way you had hugged him so firmly to keep him safe as your magic raged all around you like a wild force of nature, at the way you looked at him so tenderly— eyes burning with mana like the gaze of a god he's your most prized possession —right before the blood loss made him black out.

But now that Price was out of the hospital, his side permanently marked with your magic and a hefty load of paperwork on his desk, you were acting like you never said anything. Anytime someone brings it up you just ignore them, ignore him, throwing yourself into training as much as you can. And it's getting on his nerves, his draconic blood making anger and malcontent burn in his bones because you'd looked at him like a mate but now it's like he doesn't exist beyond training and missions.

He knows it's against the rules, knows he shouldn't hope for much when he sets out to find you, but he does. It's not hard; though his sensitive nose easily picks up the stench of magic, it's the lingering mana burrowed into his skin that tugs him in a direction, even the foreign parts of him wanting you. He finds you alone in the training room, the ground around you scorched beyond hell.

"We need ta' talk lad." Price rumbles as he closes the door behind him, the deep thrum of his voice hiding the anxious pressure he feels in his chest.

Your head whips to look at him. Price cherishes the way your eyes soften when you see him like a glittering gem. Then a sea of ice settles over your eyes, and you turn your head back to the target dummy as if looking at Price makes you sick. "Nothing to talk about captain."

"That so?" Price asks like he doesn't believe you, because he doesn't. Ancient instincts tug on his mind and he follows them. You know he knows what's plaguing your mind, both of you are aware of the elephant in the room and Price can see the way your shoulders progressively tense as he draws near. But you're a stubborn fool, you refuse to show how his presence makes your heart beat faster despite how each of his steps rings like a gunshot in your ears.

Your mind fails to conjure up words but you force an "Hmh," out of your throat, trying to ignore how Price is so close to you, the heat of his body radiating into yours. His remaining wing stretches out, scales and leathery membranes barely brushing over your shoulder, but the intent is clear; the claim is clear.

You try to ignore him, ignore yourself, clinging to the sensation of your sharp mana digging into your veins as you summon another bout of magic to shoot at the training dummy, whisps of formless energy quickly forming into your preferred element.

His hand settles on your hip, not enough to make you loose focus just yet. "Because last ah remember," He leans in closer, the smell of black coffee and cigars on his breath. This close he can smell you instead of your magic, his chest rumbling against your back with a happy purr. "you promised me dinner if I lived."

You nearly choke on air, your magic sputtering out like an old car engine. "I-" You whirl around, your noses almost touching from how close you are. "-that's not what I'd meant!"

His heart should break at that, but before it can his sensitive ears pick up how rapidly your heart's pounding in your chest, reptilian eyes noting how you're flushed more than usual, breathing rapidly without even noticing it.

"Really now?" That greedy part in his bones urges him on, begging and pleading for him to just take you. His other hand settles on your shoulder, keeping you in place, close to him just like he wants. "Then ah suppose all that 'bout me bein' a slimy bastard was also not true?"

You want to flinch away but can't, your own body a traitor to you, a deep frown tugging on your lips. "Price, I wasn't-"

"And-" He cuts you off by leaning even closer, his forehead resting against yours and fuck, your head fits perfectly between his horns, like you belong there. "-I must've misheard you when you said you loved me?" He raises an eyebrow, voice both teasing and serious, holding his breath.

Just that small contact of skin on skin has your resolve crumbling like sand, "Listen, just-" You suck in a sharp breath, the situation both bliss and hell for you. “My feelings aren’t real and my heart’s a fucking idiot. Okay? And just-" You try to stammer the same lies you'd tell yourself every time you'd catch yourself thinking of him more than just your captain (which was way too often).

Price's clawed hand grips your chin and manually closes your mouth, his smooth scales cool against your warm body. You forget to breathe, your eyes flickering all over his face as he smirks, voice deep and guttural like the rumble of moving tectonic plates. "Then I'm an idiot too."

The world goes completely silent as he kisses you, holding your head still so he can claim your lips for himself, his deep purr shaking both of your chests when you submit so easily to him, like getting a gulp of fresh air after years of drowning.

You're so lost in his taste and his scent and just him you don't notice when Price roughly pulls you into the showers, tail and wing and arms holding your body; as if your brain could even conjure the thought of leaving. Bursts of awareness assault your mind every time you part for a breath and to displace a piece of clothing, his sharp claws tickling your skin as he can't wait and just cuts through your remaining clothes.

Clawed fingers grip your hair and tilt your head back, exposing your throat to sharp fangs and you submit easily, trusting him not to hurt you too much. Low sounds rumble in your throat as Price marks you, biting one spot until it bleeds your mana rich blood, greedily drinking up the crimson droplets and soothing the wound with his tongue just enough for the sting to become pleasant before biting again. Bite, lick, bite, lick, bite, lick— chest rumbling with satisfaction he pulls away, "Oh, look at you," He growls, your throat turned into a warzone, "So handsome, like a charming knight."

You snort and grip his hips, the water of the shower raining down the two of you. "Yeah?" You ask as you turn him around, pushing his chest against the wall as you drop to your knees. "Gonna let me lay you?" You ask, kissing down his spine, your rough hands groping and fondling his ass.

"Wanker," Price growls and lifts his tail, revealing his hole to you. You almost cum on the spot from the sight of it, looking every bit what you'd imagined he'd look like. But you don't get to look for long before his tail wraps around your throat, soft underbelly scales scraping against your bruised throat as he pulls you closer. "Only, if you prove your worth."

You don't need a formal invitation, pushing your tongue out as you slobber all over his hole, your hands keeping his asscheeks spread so you can worm your tongue into his hole, feeling him clench around your tongue, his moans ringing like angel song in your ears. His claws tangle in your hair, pushing your head even closer to worship him better. And you do, like a pious believer you lick and suck and nibble around his hole, your nose buried in the space between his ass and tail, barely able to breathe but it's a small price to pay.

Finally he grows greedy for more, his tail releases a fraction and he shoves you, making you fall back on your ass, your cock standing like a flagpole. You only manage to rise up on your elbows before Price jumps on you like the beast he is, thigh powerful thighs bracketing your own, his clawed fingers scraping against your skin as they settle on your shoudlers.

"Now then," Price rumbles like an ancient mountain, reptilian eyes hooded with lust. He feels on top of the world with the way you look at him, like a desperate mutt, your cock hard like a rock between his legs. "Stay still, mighty knight, an-" Price lifts himself up, positioning your cockhead at his puckered rim. "-relax."

The running water muffles your combined groans, his walls hot and tight like the fire in his chest. His weight bears down on you, wing stretching out in a show of pleasure, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he pants. "Fuck," Price growls, grinding his hips down into yours. "Feel so good, lad."

You grunt, your hands fitting on his hips like they always belonged there. Magic sparks across your arms as pleasure steadily erases your ability to think, but his thick scales keep him safe, a pleased groan leaving his chest as he starts bouncing on you, chasing his own pleasure. You can do nothing but hang on, your hips rising to meet his downward thrust, Price's lips swallowing your moans. You don't have enough sense in your head left to care if anyone was to come in and see you, your mind fully consumed by him.

You cum way too soon, your orgasm sneaking up to you, lightning rushing down your spine and magic sparking across your arms as your brain leaks out of your ears, shooting cum up into his greedy walls.

"Good- good lad." Price grinds his teeth, never stopping his bouncing, lewd sounds ringing through the showers from the way your cum squelches inside him. He rides you past the sting of overstimulation right back to hardness. His hand grabs yours, placing it over the scars on his abdomen where your magic had stitched him back together, greed and lust fueling his desires. "Protected me so good, yeah?" His hips never cease moving, that draconic endurance coming in handy to absolutely wrecking you. "Let me take care of you,"

And like a proper mate, you let him do as he pleases.

[willowve01]

Modern AU

Not going to lie, I thought about this AU in private for a while before @rozeliyawashereyall helped me gain that confidence to share it with the army. (And the writers more-less)

My personal headcannon of this AU is similar to Demon Slayers ending—where they’re all eventually reborn into a future timeline where everything is better. Still sticking to the sirenverse Al’terra, I made society somewhat the same.

Halfbloods are tolerated much better within this society but there is always that bad apple—like Circe. Roze and I came up with the idea of a sort of Mafia vibe (based off Obi’s Gator Boys 2nd Anniversary art) to the AU, though that’s more of the Founders thing. (Anyone is welcome to join if they wish) All the other bugs live their life as street vendors, performers, journalists, etc.

As for the Founders, they are bounty hunters, modeling as a side-gig. Looking for Circe Fain due to the various crimes she committed; trafficking/man-slaughter/slavery/there’s more. Our Founders just-so-happen to work for The Boys, working to get Bog Boss’s family back.

The Founders: @asmrbrainrot, @rozeliyawashereyall and myself.

[tactax-art]

Mage!Soap and his familiar! They are unusually close and affectionate, he even gave her a name, "Trouble". Going to go deeper into the AU another time, made a whole magic system for it cause I love worldbuilding.

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Whumptober 2024 - Day 27

This was like the second to last piece I wrote, I just love a good scary ransom c:<

TWs: Muzzles, face whump (hooks in the muzzle), kidnapping, oxygen deprivation/suffocation, captivity, ransom, beating, tazing

Voiceless | Laboratory | Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”

Mariano's entire face hurt. It had been hurting for as long as his wrists had, shackled to the wall as they were. He didn't know if it would ever really stop.

The hooks in the muzzle had bitten into his skin, into the muscle underneath, from the moment it had been locked around his head. The leather was unforgiving, stiff and sharp where the edges dug into him. Breathing felt impossible.

It wasn't, really.

He could inhale. He could exhale. It was slow, far too slow, and it wasn't enough.

But it was possible if he focused.

Possible didn't mean comfortable or easy, though, and the way it made his chest ache was only second to the muzzle hooks. The concrete he was forced to slump against was solidly in third place, he'd decided. There wasn't enough slack in his restraints to stand or sit, so he was caught in a miserable kneel between the two positions.

Mariano's head spun, as it had been doing since a minute and a half after the muzzle had locked into place.

It wasn't going to stop, none of it would. Not until his dragon came to him. Not until his favorite medic got to him. Not until the voice of one of his boyfriends were there.

But that meant that he just had to hold on. Mariano could do that. He could keep breathing.

Even if every breath made fire rip through his face, he would. The hooks embedded in his skin gnawed at him, made his head throb. It made him groan into the silence of his cell.

Was it getting darker? It looked like it was. Mariano's lips tickled as sweat poured over his skin and invaded his mouth. It crept further, down his chin, into the line the unforgiving leather cut into him.

It stung, fresh and sharp and bright with every drip. Mariano tried to breathe deeper, only to have the muzzle seal itself shut. His chest tightened and the room swayed harder under his knees.

He breathed out, and the leather relaxed again. Air escaped. This time, he took a slower inhale.

Relief. Not much, but some. It would have to be enough for the moment. Mariano took another slow, shallow breath.

Mariano opened his eyes to a hand in his hair and a sharp crack of a palm across the muzzle. When had his captor gotten there? When had he fainted? The man looked down at him, eyes wild with some emotion Mariano couldn't have named even if he wasn't oxygen deprived.

"Wake up--" He snarled, and Mariano blinked at him slowly. "You're not going to die on me yet."

Had he been dying? He didn't feel like he was. He never did, though. Mariano winced as the man released his hair, grabbed the muzzle, and forced his chin up.

The hooks dug into Mariano harder, but it did allow more air into the muzzle. He gasped greedily before he could stop himself. Another blow landed against the muzzle, ripping a hoarse noise from him.

It echoed inside the leather.

"Look at me." The man growled, snapping his fingers in front of Mariano's face. "We're going to send proof of life to your little friends, and for that you have to look alive."

He held the muzzle firmly then squeezed down on the end of it, forcing the tiny opening at the nose even wider. Mariano's eyes fluttered as he choked on the fresh air, and the man released him with a growl after a few breaths.

A light flicked on, illuminating the concrete floor stained with black blood. Mariano dimly remembered that being his. The man's hand grabbed his hair again, tangling in blood-matted curls and forcing him to look into the light as a phone was shoved in his face. "Say hello to your people, mage."

Mariano tried to mumble something, all his words running together into mush. The leather only distorted them further. What had he even been trying to say? Mariano couldn't remember.

He had even less of a chance to remember when a fist hit him in the jaw, wrenching a ragged shout from him. "If you want him back in one piece," The man panted, starting to rain down blows. "You'll wire me my fucking money." He didn't stop, punctuating every word with another hit to Mariano's head. "I know you have it--one of you is a dragon."

"And if you don't get moving," He said, reaching for something at his belt. "Well, you'll have a lot more work ahead of you to bring him home alive."

Mariano didn't understand the flickering light he saw was a taser until it jammed into his throat and the room went fully dark.

@whump-captain @whumpr @whumperofworlds @lektricwhump @cyberwhumper

@bxtterflystxtches @inscrutable-shadow @whumpbees @painful-pooch

[trashpocket]

@leavemeintheground had me thinking bout taliyah again <3

[curioushappenstance]

“Smile!”

“Inquisitor… what are you doing?”

[rozeliyawashereyall]

Yippee!! Part 2 of modern bugs!!! They're the performers!

And some fake game scenes (kinda)

+ whatever this is I made at 3am

(Esther and Earl deserve to be happy, goddamit)

@iistxrmyskyii @kaiamtt @aspenm00n @astralbulldragon13 @asmrbrainrot @willowve01 @fangsshadow @rustycopper4use

[diamondzoey]

Rules of the bug army house!

Marco walks into their house: Alright bugs sorry to bother you but- *Sees a whiteboard* umm… what is that in the wall?

Korey: umm.. So that, that’s a white board

Emerald: of all the rules we have for the house

Marco: you guys made rules for yourselves?

Chester: Uhh yeah.. We realize we needed it, after a lesson a day of living with each other sooo.. have that

Raine: Yeah and as the time goes on we add to the list, sooo

Calix: it’s been growing

Marco:….Let me see that

-a few seconds later-

All of the bugs and Marco are sitting down

Marco looking at the list of rules: Rule No.1 No sparing, training, fighting, etc.. after dinner, seems fair enough

Duarte: See, it’s not that bad

Marco: Rule No. 2 Lamia and calamity are not allowed in a room together unsupervised.. also understandable..,

Jemma: see, that was made after they almost blew up the house after the first night

Lamia huffs: I said I was sorry, also he started it *While pointing at calamity*

Calamity: you little-

Marco: Rule No.3 neither Jemma nor Korey are allowed in the kitchen unsupervised…why?

Easton: Well Korey would burn the kitchen and jemma can’t cook and will burn the food she’s making into a crisp

Marco:…Okay, Rule No.4 Duarte is not allowed to babysit the baby bugs unsupervised..what?

Chester: Well when she does she teaches the baby bugs curse words

Marco shrugs his shoulders: Fair, Rule No.5 if you hear one of the bugs playing in someone’s room, leave them alone. Okay, I don’t understand this one

Malachi: basically means that they are going through it and they need to be left alone

Easton: No question asked

Marco: Rule No.6 Sunday brunch is mandatory- what are these rules!?

Emerald: Sunday brunch is necessary for team bonding, come on Marco

Azren: besides the rules get better trust me

Marco looks at the list: Rule No. 7 if any one dyes their hair red they must only do it in their bathroom

Calamity: Yes, so that was from when I dyed my hair in the kitchen, apparently I got red dye everywhere..

Victor: And it looked like a crime scene

Jemma: Sammy and some of the other bugs was traumatized for days

Marco: Oh my..Okay, Rule No.8 Jemma or Lamia needs to wear gloves every time they sleep

Vincent: yeah we found out after night 3 that they both sleep walkers

Jemma: I’m NOT a sleep walker!

Chester: Okay then explain why the couch lit on fire last night?

Jemma: I don’t know maybe you were dreaming??

Korey: it wasn’t a dream if all of us saw it

Marco: Okay moving on..Rule No.9 if anyone hurts one of the bugs or the gator boys, the bugs are allowed to beat that person up

Easton: yeah we made that rule when Jemma almost rip Sammy’s bio mom’s hair out

Jemma: 😊

Marco: Alright..Moving to rule no.10

Vincent: Oh my divines, this one is my favorite!

Marco: If someone picks up a nerf gun…? Everyone in the same room must immediately pick one up and participate in a nerf..Battle…Is that why there are so many nerf guns lying around?

Duarte: Yup and you pretty much keep going until there’s only one person left standing!

Calix: it’s very intense

Marco: oh okay.. Rule No.11 Sammy is not allowed to have weapons near him

Azren: yeah that rule was made when he accidentally fired a tranquil dart at victor and he was out for days

Marco: Okay, Rule No.12 Azren is not allowed to sleep outside when it’s winter?

Joan: yeah that was after the many times he almost turned into a human shaped ice cube many times

Azren: Hey!

Marco: Alright, Rule No.13 twister is not allowed to be played in the house, why?

Easton: that was because after few games of twister some of us got turn into a human pretzels and took hours to get unstuck

Marco:…Rule No.14 every week everyone gets to pick a activity to do that week

Amber: me and Lucy made that rule because we thought it was be a fun experience to do everyone’s activity UwU

Marco: Alright… Rule No.15 Jemma is not allowed to use her fire power in the house

Jemma: Yeah that was after I accidentally burned the kitchen because I thought if I use my fire power it would cook the food I was making faster

Duarte: it didn’t

Marco: Okay… Rule No.16 Monopoly is banned, that’s a rule?

Chester: Monopoly ruins friendships, Marco

Emerald: Basically Raine way too good at it

Malachi: there’s also been times when the board had been broken too many times

Vincent: first instance being calamity and the second time Jemma almost beat Raine in monopoly and Jemma accidentally lit the board on fire

Amber: So…

Azren: The last time we played calamity throw the board game out the window

Marco:…Okay, Final rule- Rule No.17 always remember that we’re a team/Family, Aw that’s pretty sweet

Duarte: that is correct Marco, we have to remember to work together in times like these

Marco: Times like these?, what do you-*Sees that all of the bugs have nerf guns*

Marco: Well is that a nerf gun in your hand…?

Nash: refer to rule No.10 Marco

Sammy: if someone picks up a nerf gun, everyone in the same room must pick a nerf gun and participate in a nerf gun battle

Marco: You- You’re not being serious…?

Let’s just say a nerf gun battle begin

————————————————

A/n: am finally done, this took me three hours to write , also what would you add to the rules?

The bugs in this

Korey- @rozeliyawashereyall

Emerald- @aspenm00n

Chester- @not-5-rats

Raine- @willowve01

Calix- @pinkcocopuff-aqualoid

Duarte- @puffin-smoke

Jemma/Lamia- @diamondzoey

Azren/calamity- @strayharmony943

Sammy- @ccstiles

Easton- @itsargyle

Victor/Vincent- @littlesiren79

Nash- @lightdragon789

Amber- @astralbulldragon13

Malachi- @stxph-artist

Joan- @rustycopper4use

Lucy- @castbracelet240

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Idea #91: Modern Girl in Thedas, but make it DA2

In honor of DA:V coming out next month I've been replaying DA:I. This is something of a trial because, having just finished a Hogwarts Legacy replay, it's easy to tell that this game is 10 years old - that, and I loved how focused and intimate DA2 feels. Yes, it has world-spanning implications, but it's really all about this guy trying to do his best by his friends and his family. I love it, and DA:I never inspired the same kind of feels.

All of which is a long way of saying: I got to thinking about that most famous of tropes, Modern Girl in Thedas, and I thought about how would I handle it?

Or: What if the MGiT were to appear in Kirkwall shortly before the Fifth Blight?

Just imagine it:

Rather than a true self-insert, I see this more as modern woman meets Thedas, with a middle-aged fan of the Dragon Age series waking up in the body of an unnamed background character in a Hightown estate sometime in early 9:30 following a severe illness. The keyword here is fan - the SI has played the games, read the fic, and glanced at the wiki, but couldn't write out a clear timeline or recall most codex entries.

The SI eventually learns that she's woken up in the body of Sofia Vidal, the 15-year-old daughter of the richest merchant in Kirkwall. Their family has a virtual monopoly on cloth trade on the northern cost of the Waking Sea and has distant ties to Orlesian Nobility as well as the Amells. Their Hightown estate abuts the future Hawke Estate, and if the term robber baron existed in Thedas it would probably apply to here them.

Now, going from the body of a middle-aged engineer from the modern world into the body of a teenager in a Medieval fantasy world is difficult... but luckily no one seems to notice, because it seems doubtful that anyone has ever noticed Sofia Vidal in her life, her family included. She was mousy and shy and easily startled and apparently an endless disappointment to the family for being more fond of books than hunting or fighting.

Because, as Sofia soon discovers, the Vidal family has aspirations. They can read the writing on the wall with regards to the current Viscount and are willing to go to any end to have their family be named the viscountcy.

To which end: Sofia is the youngest of seven children. Three died in the cradle or soon after. Her oldest brother - Gaspare, her senior by nearly twenty years - spends most of his time in Orlais with his titled wife, running the family business interests there. Their other two living siblings are mages, with Amalia sent to the Kirkwall Circle while her twin Agnese went to the Circle at Dairsmuid. It had been their father's hope that, should they not be able to secure the viscountcy themselves, one of his children could marry into the line... but Sofia is so unlikely to catch anyone's eye that her father despairs of her ever marrying at all.

All of which brings us back to the events of DA2.

Sofia may not know much, but she knows that the Blight is coming. She also knows that the conditions in Darktown are horrendous and only about to get worse as refugees flood the cities, so she buys a book on healing, collects some herbs, and sets up shop on the opposite side of Darktown from where Anders had his clinic. It's better than sitting around the estate all day and makes her feel like her transmigration has a purpose.

The events of canon proceed apace...

...which is something of a surprise, because for a long while it's quite easy for Sofia to forget that she's in a video game world at all. That is, until Anders appears at her door looking to swap healing recipes, trade potions, and - eventually - share a drink at the end of the day.

It's through Anders that she meets Garrett Hawke - a cheerfully sarcastic force mage of breathtaking power. He's the sort of powerful it would be easy to fear if he wasn't so affable and in control of his gifts. The idea that he could probably take over Kirkwall through sheer power of his magic and personality alone never seems to occur to him - which is good, because he could probably be DA's answer to Alexander the Great if he cared to try.

Sofia doesn't join the Kirkwall crew, however. She does her healing, gleefully watches their antics from the sidelines, and occasionally joins them for a drink at the Hanged Man.

Though she is the first to welcome the Hawkes to Hightown at the end of Act I, becoming quite close with Leandra. (For many years Leandra will harbor the hope that Sofia and her son will marry and give her many grandchildren to dote over, but neither are inclined that way. Especially after it's revealed they're third cousins.)

Sofia turns 19 in 9:34, the year Hawke becomes Champion.

It's also the year Sofia is introduced to Sebastian Vael, being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night to attend the prince, who is bleeding out in the foyer of Hawke's home following the events of Repentance. It's not the first time this has happened - Sofia's bedroom is infinitely closer than Ander's clinic - but it is perhaps the most embarrassing.

Embarrassing, because she prefers not to be introduced to royalty in her nightclothes. Sofia has standards - not many, mind, but she has them.

Luckily for her, Sebastian is far too out of it to recall what she was wearing. But he can't help but develop a crush on the kind healer who so diligently tended his wounds - one who also ministers to the poor and downtrodden, though she could easily choose to live a life of luxury.

What follows falls somewhere between the canon friend and rival romances. We get a Sebastian who wants to regain Starkhaven because Sofia deserves no less than a Prince but who has the calm and pro-mage sympathies of the friendship route.

But that of course takes time, because Sofia's not convinced at first that Sebastian's crush has nothing to do with seeing her in her nightclothes. (Nor, for that matter, does she particularly care for the idea of a chaste marriage or an aggressively anti-mage spouse. She'd not been a particular fan of Sebastian in the game, but hadn't hated him either.)

Canon proceeds apace. Hawke becomes Champion, Kirkwall is left without a viscount, and Sofia's father tries to marry her off to however looks most likely to succeed Dumar this week.

As the chaos mounts, the soft, slow romance between Sofia and Sebastian is a breath of fresh air. On Sebastian's part, it grows from a seed of fondness - and, yes, lust - to genuine affection as he gets to know Sofia. For her part, by the time Sofia realizes she cares for Sebastian she's already in deep. Its friendship turned to love, which is the best and strongest.

They wed in a small ceremony in 9:36, only telling Sofia's father after the fact. As Sebastian has to leave the Chantry to do so, they're forced to camp out at Hawke's estate for several weeks before finding a small place of their own. This is awkward - mostly because the Vidal estate right next door and Sofia's father is a pompous ass on the best of days.

As the calendar turns to 9:37, matters reach their tipping point. Anders blows up the Kirkwall Chantry and Hawke is forced to kill him in hopes of restoring order. This fails and events of the endgame play out with Hawke siding with the mages.

Hawke goes on the run, helping mages across the Free Marches get to safety.

Sebastian makes good on his promise of taking back Starkhaven for Sofia, making her a princess in truth. The city becomes a sanctuary district for many of the mages in northern Thedas, much as Redcliffe was for the mages in the south. This doesn't prevent the events of DA:I, but halves the numbers of conscripts available for Alexius to conscript later. They send forces to help Kirkwall rebuild... but the city is still lawless and in turmoil when the Conclave occurs in 9:40.

Per Sofia's urging, Sebastian helps the Inquisition in its early days... though she does make it clear that she thinks the Inquisition's only aim should be to close the Breach.

But for the most part Sebastian and Sofia end up living fairly happily in Starkhaven. They have a larger family than Sofia ever imagined herself wanting - 5 kids, but magical epidurals are a wonderful thing. It's not a utopia, but it's the best that can be expected given the politics of the time. Their eldest succeeds their father as Prince of Starkhaven while their next oldest, not to be outdone, eventually gets themselves named Viscount of Kirkwall - just as the Vidal family had always dreamed.

Bonuses include:

Sofia becoming deeply, deeply over-invested in the relationship between Hawke and Fenris. So much so that for a while Sebastian thinks she's interested in one or the other or both and resolves to let her pursue her happiness without any interference from him, only to have it knocked into his head by a third-party that Sofia doesn't want be with them, she wants them to be with each other. This should be played for maximum humor and confusion.

An exceptionally complicated relationship with the Chantry. Sebastian is very much a committed Andrastian, whereas Sofia was agnostic at best in the modern world. Are demons and magic and the Breech proof that the Maker exists? Should she follow the rituals of the religion for Sebastian's sake or be honest about her beliefs? Can she open her mind enough to give Andrastianism an honest try? &c.

Sofia coming to view Leandra as second mother. Though she tries her best to prevent the events of All That Remains, she's not a fighter. All she's able to do is injure Quentin and alert Hawke to the problem sooner; Leandra still dies, but it's before Quentin is able to reanimate his perfect bride.

An engineer being forced to come to terms with magic. It makes the transition to a world at Middle Ages level of scientific advancement easier than it otherwise would be (magically running water!) but still makes Sofia's basic knowledge of germ theory a great leap forward in her Darktown clinic; and

Sofia gaining a reputation for being a great storyteller by blatantly stealing stories from the modern world to entertain children at her clinic. Varric eventually "borrows" some of these ideas and ends up writing the DA version of Harry Potter set in a fictional Circle in the years leading up to the mage rebellion.

And that is surprisingly more than I had. To be frank, the Sebastian romance snuck up on me because it's not one I usually go for, but the muse wants what it wants. As always, feel free to adopt this bun - just link back if you do anything with it.

More DA Ideas | More SI Ideas | More Terrible Fic Ideas

[ansburg]

[thegnomelord]

PLEASEEEEE UR IDEA WITH MAGE M!READER AND MONSTER!COD MEN I'D LOVE THAT SO FICKING MUCH AND YES I AGREE THERE IS A LACK OF ALL THE VIOLENCE

Pov of how the world sees the reader Vs how TF141 reader :D. I'm in the middle of writing the first chapter of a fic with this idea, but guess who contracted TB like some coal miner 😞, me! So here's a sneak peak for the sort of vibe I'm going for while I'm trying to recover:

P.S: Ya'll are free to suggest/requests with this idea cause!

P.S.S: Check out bluegiragi who came up with this AU and give her some love!

Mages and Monsters

Mages are strange creatures.

In a world so full of monstrous hybrids and mythical creatures, mages sit on the proverbial line separating man from monster, stuck in both worlds without any hope of fitting in either one.

Because outwardly, they're average. No different from the billions of other humans. They're not born with the marks of monsterdom; they don't possess horns or leathery scales to shrug off small caliber bullets like dragons do, nor the claws and bone crushing jaws of werewolves, not feathered wings and razor sharp talons of harpies, nor the wraiths ghostly ability to become immaterial.

Outwardly, they're average. Ordinary. Mundane. Human...

Almost.

Because Price and Ghost are experienced enough to see the thing laying beneath the paper thin veneer of normality, are seasoned enough to quickly notice the one thing that puts an 'in' before a mage's 'human' description — Magic. Not the smoke and mirror kind magicians or charlatans use to swindle tourists out of money, but real magic.

The ancient kind, the capricious kind, slumbering like a beast inside the hollowed out cavern of a heart until it awakens with a terrible bloodlust. Each of them can attest to this; Price sports gnarled patched of scar tissue on the scaleless parts of his arm from ice burns, his draconic breath having saved him from frostbite that had devoured more than a few good men. Though Ghost doesn't show much skin, one can sometimes catch sight of branching fern patterns on his neck where lightning magic had shot through him. Gaz's back is peppered with hundreds of little cuts where a glass mage's summoned elegant ornaments had shattered into millions of shards, aiming to take out his wings.

And now Soap sports a mark of his own, his side tender red and blistered with a second degree burn. It could have been much worse, your flames were hot enough to melt steel, the only thing having kept him from an early cremation being the two solid concrete walls your magic had had to travel through to hit him and the enhanced regeneration of his thick hide.

But such power demands a cost — one paid in blood. For magic is as fickle and capricious as a rabid dog, just as eager to lunge for your throat as it will at the enemies, leaving lasting wounds for all to see; rough and calloused palms, skin blackened from blazing heat and freezing cold or marked with fern patterns of electricity, fingers stiff and marred with cuts from thorns and crystals and rock and glass, bone deep cuts where the liquid mana had burst out from the skin, leaving faintly glowing scars that never heal right.

All mages are born with this grievous gift, though one never knows whether it will present itself with a pitiful flicker of embers in a man's dying breath, or with a maelstrom of an infant's first hiccup. That's why most mages are sealed, by choice or force, a process which puts chains on the magic, making it and the mage docile.

But you are unsealed. And you flaunt that fact readily by melting the tail of their APC helicopter with one spell, not even waiting for them to crash before flooding the terrain with suffocating ash, the lenses of their gas masks already fogging up from the heat as they get out of the cloud of heavy sediment before it bursts to flames.

Sometimes the magic becomes unsatisfied with the weakness of the body, demanding more than just its pound of flesh and molding the body like clay to better suit it— Mage Marks, they're called — the subtle glow of magic in your eyes, the mana visibly pulsing inside your chest, the skin of your arms slipping away like wet paper before growing anew, this time mimicking the surface of magma, or the rocky barnacle encrusted reef, the gnarled bark of a tree, the crystalline inside of a geode, the ice spiked ground of tundra, or any other form that suits the magic in your veins.

The process is excruciating, the mana burrowing and gnawing on every nerve like a parasite that replaces what it eats with itself. But to you, that's an acceptable loss, because marked mages far surpass their unmarked fellows, your magic stronger and wilder, feral and viscous like the primordial force of nature.

So it becomes concerning when you're laying on the floor, captured, battered and bruised and calm.

Ghost had been waterboarding you for a while now, your body tied to a chair that had been tipped back so you were parallel with the ground. With water pooling around your head, your top half would have been soaked to the bone had your magic not been simmering in your veins, the magic suppression momentarily reducing the raging inferno in your chest to a meager flicker of flames.

They can't kill you, but limiting your magic for even a second is death in and of itself.

Your breathing is harsh as Ghost pulls away the cloth over your mouth, asking you a question as steam rises from your skin. Most would give in long before this point, but you just grin, eyes glowing with a burning glow, and make a comment about how good his arse looks from your viewpoint.

You manage only one small note of laughter, pitiful embers sparking at the corners of your lip, before Ghost drops the rag back over your face and begins anew.

Price watches all of this, sharp draconic eyes noting how the mana glows in your chest, pulsing like a second heart (assuming you had one to begin with), noticing how the water turns to steam a little faster when it splashes over your skin.

And Price knows.

You... You are going to be trouble.

[not-5-rats]

Holy shoot it's been a while but here we are again ig

Bug Army Questions/ Scenarios! Also quick warning but I really do ramble on here sorry <3

(The new au talk gave me some ideas lol)

1) Smth that makes them cry like instantly?

2) Modern! AU

What's their go-to cinema/ theatre snack?

3) Opinion on velvet? (the fabric)

4) Yandere AU! (Check @strayharmony943 acc for list of Yandere Bugs/ the obsessed/ to enlist ur Bug)

For the Yandere Bugs: who are they obsessed with? why?

For the Bugs being obsessed over: how do they feel abt smbdy being obsessed with them?

For the rest of the Army: how do they support those who are being obsessed over?

5) Scenario #1 - back to Yandere AU! :D

Bug had noticed that Chester's behaviour had been slightly odd recently. He hadn't spent much time out of his room, Bug doesn't remember the last time they spoke, the biggest pointer that something was up was the flower beds...all the flowers were dead. He hadn't even come out to water them

Bug decided they would go check in on him, just to see if he was okay...if he was even alive. They knocked on his door, no response, they knock3e again, still nothing, so they announced that they were coming in and pushed the door open

Chester had been staring into a wardrobe but as soon as Bug entered the room he roughly pulled a the door of said wardrobe shut, hiding whatever was in there from view. He turned quickly to look at them. His eyes were bloodshot and wild yet he tried to regain his composure.

"*Bug*! What are you doing in here?"

It wasn't till now that Bug got a true look at the room...it was a mess? Chester was usually so well put together, so neat, so pristine but now there were clothes everywhere, grime/ dust covered every surface, dead plants surrounding the entire area...what tf happened?

Chester is staring at Bug waiting for their answer as they try to silently usher them out of his room

6) Continuing from Scenario #1

It had been a few days since Bug had went to check on Chester, they had failed to find out what was in that wardrobe but today they seemed to have found a way

Nobody knows where he went but Chester suddenly dissapeared from the house and Bug decided to take the chance and find out what's om the wall. They knew he could be back any moment so they had to act fast.

They snuck into the room, being mindful that Chester may have set up some sort of trap to harm those who came in when he was gone...luckily there wasn't anything. They cautiously made their way over to the wardrobe, pulled it open and....

Photos, poems, flowers, gifts...what? They stared at the wall until they finally realised what they were looking at, a shrine. They picked up one of the many photos that lay there, it was a photo of Duarte training in the forest nearby...they didn't seem aware that the photo was taken, they looked at another Ulysseus playing their flute to some of the Baby Bugs.

As they scanned the rest of the contents of the wardrobe they found that everything linked back to those two, the photos were all of them, (if there was smbdy else in the picture they were scribbled over in bold, black ink) the poems all abt them, flowers with labels describing why they reminded Chester of the two, letters addressed to them and gifts they had given him/ gifts he intended to give to them.

Holy shit...he was watching them, constantly. He was fucking obsessed with them!

What do they do with this new, sparkling information?

☆---------------☆

Huge thank you to Duarte/ @puffin-smoke and Ulysseus/ @lunaritychuwolf for sacrificing their Bug to this awful fate <3

Tags -

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[chaosfairy18]

Me and @thatoneandlonelyemo2005 had a vision about Bumlets with a manbun and I needed to draw it. Somehow the right was giving our Fantasy/Medieval AU so he turned into a wizard and I love him dearly by the way.

Left is Modern AU where he plays beach-volleyball where all the newsies are at a little holiday cabin thing together just having fun (which is also where the idea stemmed from) It is entirely Mack's fault that he is shirtless, don't come at me /j

Side note: my reference page looked like I was a crazed fangirl

But it was worth it

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Whumptober 2024 - Day 26

Hehehehe time to see modern war mage Mariano in action as the lamb!

TWs: aftermath of torture and waterboarding

Nightmares | Breakfast Table | Parting Words of Regret | “I’m haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.”

"Lumen!" Dimitri shouted, voice tight with desperation. He strained against the bars that held them in their cell, one arm reaching between them to try to get to the youngest war mage. The others strained similarly in the chains that kept them close to the walls.

Mariano was dragged down the hallway between two guards, not even able to lift his head. Blood dripped steadily to the floor, and his hair hung straight and limp, matted together and dripping with water. Little, crackling sobs eked out, just loud enough to be heard.

The men sneered as they got close. "What did you do to him?" Dimitri snarled, only to flinch back with a yelp when they swung their batons at his arm, forcing him away from the door.

They didn't linger when they opened the cell and dropped Mariano back inside to cough and wheeze on the floor. Dimitri scrambled over, pulling Mariano into his arms and cradling his head close. "I've got you, it's okay, it's over now." He said, hearing the guards laugh. "They won't touch you again."

Mariano sobbed louder, voice cracking as one hand tangled into Dimitri's sleeve. He curled in tight against Dimitri, trembling hard. When Dimitri hugged him tighter, he angled his face like he was trying to hide in bleach-fried hair.

In a voice hoarse from water and coughing, just barely loud enough to be heard, Mariano spoke. "I know where they're keeping the intel." He sounded steady even as he trembled. "No guards in four hours. Two are sick."

Dimitri settled back, aware of the cameras still on them. The hand at Mariano's back slipped up to hide under his hair. He tapped a finger against the back of Mariano's neck. N-I-G-H-T-M-A-R-E.

"Understood, sir." Mariano whispered back. "I'll tell the others." And he would. When he crawled to be by them, he'd pass it all on. By the time they were done executing that particular escape, nothing would be standing.

@whump-captain @whumpr @whumperofworlds @lektricwhump @cyberwhumper

@bxtterflystxtches @inscrutable-shadow @whumpbees @painful-pooch