#now i remembered Amalia

[sugaroto]

@alalumin I thought of Daphne

coming up with an au were a dead character lives but shaking my head while i do it so everyone watching knows i support the role their death played in the narrative and consider it a legitimate writing choice

[wu-wakfu-undertale]

Re-watching wakfu for the first time in years and s1 Yugo was so silly???

dude discovered he could make portals at will and his first thought after actually acknowledging it is "i can do so many cool pranks with this"

[where-the-wind-travels]

dreamed about lia last night (and actually as mia. not like my previous dream about abel where i was just myself 😭) what a wonderful way to start pride month

[geekgirles]

I've seen people say things about Amalia not being queen material because she was always far from her kingdom, and I can't help but think they're taking everything at face value. Like they assume that just because the plot takes place while Amalia is usually away on an adventure, that's all there is to it and her circumstances, when in reality nothing is further from the truth.

First of all, back in season 1 the show didn't exactly shy away from confirming Amalia essentially spent her early life confined in the Sadida Kingdom and most likely never stepped foot outside of it until she decided to run away. Hence why she failed to understand the chamberlain wouldn't be able to pay for her expenses when she was in Bonta.

And why did she run away in the first place? That's right. Because her family insisted she remained cooped up in the palace ever since the queen's death. And considering Queen Sheran Sharm died when Amalia was little, that all means she had spent 13 years "trapped" in her kingdom as early as season 1.

Now, I don't think we have an exact date for the Brotherhood's adventures, how long they lasted. But I'm gonna go with my gut and say each journey they took place in the span of several months to a year, tops.

That would mean the first time Amalia left home she wasn't away for that long, anyway.

Not to mention, after dealing with Nox and before Eva herself ran away to get Pinpin back in season 2, it was established the Brotherhood of the Tofu spent several weeks, maybe a month or two, in the Sadida Kingdom. With Yugo and Adamaï helping Amalia with her duties because she was swamped with them, to the point she somewhat reverted back to her brattier days (which is not excusable, but it does show that, at 13-14 at the least, Amalia was already in charge of many administrative duties and responsibilities and under a lot of stress).

In fact, the only reason she didn't stay in her kingdom for the entirety of the season, besides her wanderlust, is the fact that trouble kept popping up. Originally, they only left to get Eva back after she ran away in search of Pinpin, and once they returned from that, the only reason they left the kingdom again was because of Qilby's appearance and his lies deceiving them into helping retrieve his Dofus by painting it as a humanitarian mission for the sake of the Eliatropes.

And before you point out Amalia was supposed to stay in her kingdom that time around but chose to run away again, let's not forget how, technically speaking, she didn't sneak away at all, shall we?

In season 2, the roles had been reversed. Amalia thought she was sneaking away again, but not only was Eva in the know and totally in favour of it (as opposed to her reluctance from season 1), but so was King Sheran Sharm. Remember? He went as far as to have Renate and Canar prepare plenty of provisions for her. Meaning, that time around, Amalia had her father's approval, which implies she didn't actually do anything wrong.

And again, their adventures kept them away from several months up to a year, but not much longer. In fact, the only time it was confirmed they spent a year away was during the post-season 2 manga, and that was an accident because they didn't account for time flowing differently in Emrub.

Now, let's add the time of the OVAs. The special episodes are stated to take place 6 years after season 2, with Flopin and Élely being little kids but not babies or toddlers anymore; Yugo stuck in his childish body despite being, what, 19(?); and Amalia being old enough to marry—given she is 22 in seasons 3 and 4, that would make her roughly 20-21 years old.

Six years had gone by between the second season and the OVAs, and if we add the year away from the manga, that means that Amalia dutifully spent 5 years in her kingdom, carrying out her royal duties and most likely only leaving for a few days at a time at most in order to visit her friends for important occasions like their birthdays. Though this is speculation on my part based on the events of the manga. Days she got to spend away because she probably had her father's permission to, as he wholeheartedly approved of her friendship with the Brotherhood of the Tofu. Meaning, once again, that Amalia wasn't doing anything wrong.

Then the OVAs came, and she had to leave for Frigost, and this time indefinitely since she was to marry Count Harebourg, therefore becoming his Countess and needing to remain by his side in his realm. And, again, because that was a marriage of convenience for the sake of her kingdom, she wasn't just allowed to leave but expected to. But even when it was revealed Count Harebourg planned to either exploit Yugo and the Eliatrope Dofus or the Sadida forests to benefit Frigost and the wedding didn't come to pass, it wasn't like Amalia stayed around to sightsee either.

As soon as they freed Joris, Atcham, and Kerubim and got some exposition on Tristepin from Rubi, realising she had the means to save her kingdom by having Pinpin help, the group split up in two and they turned back around towards the Sadida Kingdom. And all that in just a few days, a week or two at most.

Then comes season 3, taking place a year, year and a half, after the OVAs, with Amalia now 22 and confining herself to the palace more than ever because she's watching as her father withers away each passing day and she's trying to avoid Armand and Aurora since all they seem to care about is getting her hitched and out of their hair.

To be honest, I'm not sure how long they're supposed to have spent in Oropo's dimension and Inglorium, since it feels like only a few days, but then Armand reveals in season 4 that he had only been king for a few weeks and the timeline gets kinda wacky. Because... Amalia just returned the day prior? And she spent the whole time by their father's grave?? What, did he leave her be to the point of risking malnourishment and dehydration for several days??? It just doesn't make sense.

Anyway, confusing timeline aside, what does this tell us? Simple, it tells us that Amalia was only away from home for about 2-3 years, which isn't all that different from when our parents send us to study abroad in real life. Which, at the same time, means that out of 22 years of her life, she remained 19 in her kingdom, performing her duties. And that's even without taking into account the fact that 90% of season 4 took place in the Sadida Kingdom, or the four months between Yugo and Amalia's wedding and the events of The Great Wave, where Amalia (and Yugo) stayed in her kingdom, ruling it.

Unlike Armand, Amalia might have been more interested in adventure than power and politics, and she might not have had the same kind of training as he did as heir apparent, but she is in now way, shape, or form incompetent or unprepared when it comes to ruling her people. Now try to tell me she was always away or that she is irresponsible. I dare you.

[loryn-art]

Last panels for my Wakfu Moder AU series ->

I don't know if I'll ever write something about this AU but I love it more and more. Probably some scenes will be made into short comics, but I'm afraid of spoiling too much of the story that way…

For now I think I'll just make some character sheets, probably more about the Eliatrope Goddess as a human form ? Or more about the dragons ? Tell me what you want to know !

Qilby :

Given age - 40~ / Real age - +250

Older than Glip, but still looks younger, does he have special abilities/powers because he's the first born ? (He also has the ability to remember all of his past lives here.)

Tall.

I couldn't find anything that looked like what I really wanted for Shinonome's form, so I went with a sort of mix of different birds for her. (I'm probably going to change her appearance soon anyway...)

Same with Qilby's profession, I guess he's like a very famous scientist but prefers to stay in the shadows. He's like a consultant who works with a lot of different scientists and historians, and gives them his opinion and knowledge when they need it.

Spends his time travelling to various archaeological sites around the world. (Portals are SO convenient for this...)

His apartment is a real cabinet of curiosities filled with books and all sorts of things he brings back from his travels.

He's also supposed to smoke e-cigarettes, but I'm not sure about what flavor, I want something that reminds him of his home planet.

Has a LOTS of diplomas.

Left-handed.

Fluent in several languages.

Yugo :

Given age 20~ / Real age - 20 (how is this possible ? I'm still looking for an explanation...)

Very athletic and popular in his faculty~

Has the same group of friends for years now, they take care of each other like a family.

The Tofu key chain is one of Amalia's gift because he loves birds.

I have no idea what he could actually study :p Any suggestions ?

Skating.

Wears a cat beanie to hide his wings.

Adamai takes the form of a white wolf-like dog, with blue eyes. And a WEIRD smile.

Has tons of pictures of him and his friends~

A collection of beanies. (Most of them are actually gifts)

These are the very first drafts for my Au so please keep in mind that many things may change. I'll probably post something about the Eliatrop goddess next week, but her story is still a mystery to me… I have some ideas but nothing really solid at the moment.

*Returns in the shadows*

[cocogum]

Season 5 worries me.

So recently, Tot explained to a Twitch streamer that the fifth season of Wakfu, a season that we desperately wanted ever since we learned it was coming, wouldn't turn out like we planned.

But first, if you understand French and want to see the snippet in question, then press here. (thanks @geographer746, for sharing the clip)

Here's what Tot said:

A need, for the record, is to tell the love story between two(?) monsters. That will be the main storyline for this season. They won't be our heroes, I should note, but I want to present some strong enough powerful characters who are not really beautiful, and try to make the people cry to a story where the characters do not look like them. I really went for some challenges a bit political and all but incredibly very human.

Apparently, and brace yourself for this, season 5 will explore the love story of two ugly monsters and the many challenges they will face. Tot specified that they won't be the heroes and won't look like we can relate to them, but feeling sympathy or even understanding may happen.

This summary alone doesn't bother me in the least because Tot did say that they wouldn't be the heroes of the finale. However, it made me question many things about what this season can hold.

But it also says a lot because we all expected something else entirely. We thought that season 5 would immediately continue with what happened after season 4, so it could be used as a good filler between season 4 and the Great Wave to explain some things that haven't been addressed or presented in the Great Wave yet.

Things like:

how the Sadida Kingdom reacted when they learned they had to share their lands with the eliatropes;

what happened after the wedding between Yugo and Amalia;

how did Yugo get used to his older body, and if he had any trouble controlling it after the adrenaline he just had from the Necrome war;

if Yugo communicates with his eliotrope children like the rest of Oropo's group besides Bouillon;

maybe we could see the unnamed male sadida and unnamed female eliatrope's relationship growing (the ones that got married in the Great Wave. I've explained it here);

or even just Yugo contemplating all the shit that he went through in such a short time.

Because Tot finally has the time to explore all those ideas now that he's been allowed to make 26 episodes. TWENTY. SIX. Do you remember when was the last time we had 26 episodes in a season?? BACK IN 2011.

Again, the problem with this future season isn't that we'll see these new characters being ugly monsters that we've never seen in Wakfu before. Because every season always welcomes new characters, it should be logical to think we'll see some new ones in this future season. The REAL problem is that I'm scared that that's all we'll see in this finale.

Granted, the clip where Tot summarizes the season was only a snippet, which means we've only scratched the surface of what this season has to offer.

But the thought still worries me nonetheless.

Wakfu, for many fans, has been here since their childhoods, and for people like me, it has been here for almost two decades now. Which is why I'm extremely worried that the finale of Wakfu will only be about new characters that have nothing to do with the Brotherhood we have come to know and love for many years.

The idea of ending it with two random people just doesn't sit right with me.

It's like saying you want to end a full nostalgic adventure with two ugly gobbowls falling in love 💀💀

What's worse in all of this is that we should have expected this coming. A few months ago, Tot released a tweet about a new character he would involve in the future, which was this dragon-looking warrior.

Here is the tweet in question 👇

The translation of the post is as follows:

Hello everyone, I'm in the middle of my writing period and as usual, I'm procrastinating between two lines (of text)... And one of the subjects of this procrastination is X, the most x social network on the internet. Even if it means spending time here, we might as well tell you some nice things rather than talking about the current shit. Right now, I'm seriously working on 3 projects that I can't wait to tell you about.

-Welsh & Shedar

- Wakfu Season 5

- Wakfu the great wave

I'm in the tough, in solitary mode, and these are really the best and worst times for me. As a wait, I present to you a future hero / protagonist of Krosmoz. I showed you a WIP sketch a few months ago, and the baby was done by the talented Vincent Nghiem. Enjoy.

At the time, we all thought this was going to be some minor character that was going to have a role in the fifth season, but knowing what we know now from the snippet, I'm guessing that this dragonic adventurer is probably one of the lovers Tot had mentioned (or maybe not since Tot tweeted that this character is a hero which was not what he said about the lovers. But then again, he could have changed that statement later on). THIS IS JUST A MERE SPECULATION AFTER ALL SO TAKE IT WITH A GRAINE OF SALT.

In addition, I recently saw a screenshot of Malec, one of Wakfu's directors, showing us the beginning of the fifth season's script. (thanks to @viridisgratia for providing the pic here) Below the first episode's title (which was hidden by a spoiler warning), it said version one.

This could mean two things:

either Tot is playing with some ideas and isn't really sure how to start the season or trying to find a way to improve the storyline;

he's just trying to figure out how he wants to start the show with the two monsters in mind.

Personally, I prefer the former.

I think he may be trying to discover things he wants to do when trying to test out what he likes and doesn't like. The story with the two monsters isn't going to be a story that he will eventually want, and maybe he will just ditch it because the character sheet that we saw in his tweet is just a character sheet at the end of the day. It doesn't mean it would be a fully canonized character. Maybe he's just playing with characters and seeing what fits and doesn't fit, but who knows? Perhaps I'm just being very optimistic or just very delusional, we'll see.

[astrosociety]

Do you remember when Season 2 once showed what Amalia and Eva would’ve looked like if they were males? It was from the boufbowl episode with Kriss Krass and it was still one of the best episodes from Season 2 I DON’T CARE WHAT ANYONE THINKS-

So anyways yeah when I was a kid, I vaguely found male Amalia (who was named Amalius in that episode) appealing since I had a phase where I used to be into rude boys and Amalius definitely sounded like one (not to mention that he was also toned so-)

Now that you made your own version of female Yugo, Yuna, this made me wonder how you’d draw Amalius. It’s a shame there’s not much of him around 😭

Amalius (or if you have a better name for him) would definitely be that one guy from the “I ain’t never stop loving you bitch” meme from Vine. What’s worse is that he’d willingly sing it to Yuna 💀

Just picture Amalius singing this to her.

…that is unbelievably and eerily fitting.

Give him long hair because I can HAHAHHAH

Yuna is perplexed but loves him anyway 🙏🙏

anyway I do think amery (still thinking of a name actually) hasa personality a little more similar to Armand in this case, more of a showoff and maybe kinda douchey lol

I kinda want to do draw him and female armand now 😔

[kerubimcrepin]

Wakfu Manga - Tome 3, Part 1

[looks at the cover art where he's doing literally nothing] I'm insane. I',m insane.

He likes to stay in the shadows but didn't hesitate to help.....

He likes the brotherhood of tofu so much that it overpowers his rational thought and social anxiety.

Not Joris being drawn with Shojo Sparkles around him. I bet he thinks he looks so cool. LOSER!

The sad thing is that,,,, he does look cool. His cringe charm works on me.

He looks so tense-yet-chill... fgjdfg.

The thing about Joris is that he is 600 and there's very little in this world that actually makes him feel afraid for his life. Though intellectually, he knows that he probably should be scared shitless.

Don't worry though, he is about to feel some capital-letter-f Fear.

I do think that when it's not just him that's in danger, he gets a bit more anxious.

HE LOOKS LIKE A BUG. @dullard anyway hey your pfp.

Pictured: pack of wild animals.

Joris trying to comfort Ruel by putting a hand on his shoulder and saying, "No, let Yugo cook with this one. I think he has a point. We should cross the ravine."

He's so emotionally constipated.

DFGSDFGAKSLDGDIFJAOISDFJSADLKGHSA;LGASDFGHSJFGHSDFUGSHDFJGVHSDNFGJSHRDGJVLKDFHGSUFGHDFJKGHSDJFG

"Very nice flight, Ruel." said with a blank expression of terror.

They keep asking him this stuff and he keeps not knowing anythinggg. And it's funny every single time.

"Ruel, try dodging the rocks."

I don't know why he's so funny. He's so fucking unemotional it's actually insane.

The way Joris stammers here...

He went from knowing shitfuck about cracklers, mostly being useless during the fight save for one moment, holding onto the train somewhere offscreen for his dear life, saying "CAN YOU TRY DODGING THE ROCKS", to still being alive.

He's probably,, dissociating by now. fsjdkgdf

LEGENDARY Joris moment.

He's so cute... So excited to fish together with Yugo... And the way he casually calls him "Master".

Some important things to know about Joris is that he is petty and hypocritical. YES I believe he's known Eva and Amalia since they were kids, YES I think he cares about them in some way... but I think he likes Yugo more.

Simply because Yugo won't die that fast. He's worth spending time on. He can be a mentor to him ("do as I say, not as I do"), he remembers what it was like — living, spending time together with Lilotte and Simone, and knowing that he was going to outlive them. Knowing that he was going to have to outlive everyone else. And, his childhood ended at 10, while Yugo's ended at 12.

He can't help but look at him and think these things.

I think Joris doesn't exactly look down on mortals, but instead has something much more mentally ill going on there. He can't allow himself to care about people like Amalia and Eva.

The way he looks at Ruel's fishing rod... fjgsfg.

It's so difficult to have relationships with people who aren't childhood friends or his uncle and dad. He can barely talk, or come up with any way to get closer together. So the best way he knows is gift-giving.

A very brief moment of vulnerability, and then —

A casual lil shrug. He's insane. He wants them (especially Yugo) to ask questions so bad. dfgjdkgsfd

And also, OF COURSE Amalia and Ruel know of Khan Karkass! Nerds...

He dropped this lore so, so casually, and then did not elaborate. The true Joris Jurgen approach to building friendships.

Ruel can't count </3 it's 600.

[puts on tinfoil hat] I think Joris is feeling mixed emotions. On one hand, this is Yugo, and Yugo loves his gift. On another hand, he just gave away one of the remaining pieces of his friend. Was it the right choice? Is this worth it?

casually sticks his pinky out like a princess, looking like he is going to have some sort of violent episode.

THEY'RE SO CUTE... THE FRIENDS.

Begging him to stop talking and acting like a beautiful damsel from a castle.

[tishots-skvad]

Since we remembered the 19th episode, I will attach a funny answer, just with a reference to it))

─────────────🌱─────────────

Q: You famously control combat magic and you prefer to keep your opponents at a distance, where did such a magnificent figure come from? Is this a workout for the masses? A feature of the sadida vegetative system?

/Pleasantly/ Naturally, the reason is physical fitness. I started my rigorous training as a child, with the best teachers. They were all masters of their craft, but not always condescending and soft, even with the prince. Especially my father's old friends and gifted young soldiers... They also managed to teach me a couple of lessons.

– I hope you won't mind a little request. Amalia has a dance lesson right now, and Armand's martial arts teacher won't be able to come today. So that Amalia doesn't throw a tantrum because of such an injustice, and Armand wasn't bothering her intentionally... Need to keep him occupied.

– Huh! Roger that. I will be happy to participate in the upbringing of the young prince!

─────────────🌱─────────────

– Let's start with the simples. Try to touch me.

– Hmm, I expected more savvy from the son of King Sheran Sharm.

─────────────🌱─────────────

– Complained to his girlfriend eniripsa and went back to training? What a good fellow! Well, are you going to stand there or try to attack again?

– Well no! Now you're going to run! Attack first!

─────────────🌱─────────────

[piluhns]

Drabble- A MERE MORTAL --G.S.

Um, i don't really write and i found this on my laptop, so yeah, it ain't finished nor well written- since my 1st language is not english

A mere mortal, that’s who she was.

A mere mortal who appeared in his life in one of his teenager years, he teached her a lot of things, and she teached him a lot of feelings.

“I just…don’t understand why would he go down that path” he said, remembering how his best friend left. “I’m sure he had a reason, Satoru, and if not, we will find him back yeah?” Her soft voice said, his head on her lap, her fingers through his hair. She stared at his pale skin, how his eyes looked without his technique, how his nose curved, how he kept his slips moisturized

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” she asked, a hint of worry in her eyes, even if she was a mere mortal, it felt like she understood him better than the rest of the sorcerers.

“I don’t know, Amalia…” He huffed, the bags under his eyes more noticeable than ever, all of the sleepless nights he had while he remembered al lot the memories he made with his once best friend.

“Just know… that I’ll always be here Satoru” Amalia said, while her fingers continued pat his hair, then they both stared at each other.

              12 years later (2018)

Her fingers moved quickly on a keyboard as she finished typing an email.

Her routine was simple, woke up, eat, work, gym, work, work, work sleep. Maybe for other people it was boring, and not healthy, but she was happy with how her life was, she liked to keep it simple.

“Good night, Mrs.” She said to the secretary, she still had that soft voice, only that it sounded more deeper and emptier now, she walked towards her car as she started to drive, the radio was on, she didn’t pay much attention to the people talking on it, in fact, she skipped until she found some music.

Red light, she waited. How could a person change so much? How could they lose all the light they had in their eyes? Maybe it was her fault for being too attached, or it was his, for keeping her by his side.

Amalia sighed, remembering her past once again, shaking her head as she started to drive again.

She arrived, unlocking the door with her keys “I’m home” she said, knowing that no one would respond. She took her shoes off, looking at the photos hanged on her walls, how much she missed his White hair… his teases... how much she missed ***him***.

Amalia showered, and went to sleep, waiting for her alarm to clock, while she rested in Morfeo’s arms.

“i don’t need you anymore! Can’t you see? I am one of the greatest, i am the strongest! I don’t need a mere civil like you distracting me with her stupid stories or looks! We are done, i wish i have never met you!.” She remembered it as if it was yesterday, his screams, his insults, everything. How her cheeks were adorned with tears, and how she had to walk away under the rain that day, wondering what on earth she did wrong to make him crack his anger on her

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEE-*

 She woke up, groaning as she had dried tears on her cheeks, even after years she never forgot him.

“why can’t i move on?” she sighed to herself, looking at her calendar remembering it was her free day. She got dressed, a White dress and some shoes, she put her hair up on a ponytail and wore a black cap, she put a black jacket on top and grabbed her purse, not wanting to spent her day locked up in her own house.

The day was windy as the four of them walked, He smiled, his students bickered between eachother after a mission and they went to get some food while they walked through the busy streets of tokyo.

How could she not recognize him? His White hair, tall figure, his blindfold, his uniform and the ones that the kids wore, she knew instantly who it was. She grabbed her cap covering her face a Little, looking at the ground and walking past the coffee they were in, she swore she felt a jolt of electricity as she continued to speed walk.

Satoru drank his coffee, not really paying much attention to the civils that walked at the other side of the window, his students chatted and laughed, and just as he put his cup of coffee down he felt a jolt of electricity too, knowing it wasn’t because of a curse, he looked outside the window quickly, noticing a woman that covered her face while she walked, He didn’t wanna jump on assumptions, but her hair, how could he forget that caramel hair?, he tried to look at her closer with his six eyes, and he knew who it was as soon as he saw that bracelet on her hand, how could he forget about it? He was the one that gifted it to her after all.

Amalia cursed under her breath as she walked even faster, sighing in relief when she noticed she was no longer on his camp of vision.

Satoru stayed quiet as his head started to put him in a bubble of memories, when she took care of him, when he was at his lowest, she was here. And how could he forget the reason why she left?, it was his fault…. “I don’t need you anymore!” replayed on his mind over and over again, her tears on her cheeks as she nod and left, god, he felt stupid.

He froze as she walked away, not knowing what to do, should he follow her? Or should he just let her be?. He knew that he won’t stop thinking about her after this, but at the time he couldn’t just left his students alone…

He got his wallet out as he left them some money to pay the Bill, quickly excusing himself as he went out of the café, walking on a quick pace at the direction he saw her left.

Amalia just walked on a straight direction, she just wanted to enjoy her free day, not to see the person she used to care and love the most, how could she have that much of bad luck?

Both of them were troubled, she couldn’t face him even if she wanted to, it would be too much. So she escaped, walking to a nearby convenience store as she sighed to herself.

“A-amalia?”

“fuck.”

Both of them staring at each other, so much and so Little changed, she was a grown woman now, and he was even taller.

She sighed as she looked at him, the bags under her eyes more noticeable than ever.

“Do i know you?” she said, trying to play dumb even if the two of them knew it was a mere facade.

“don’t be like this, Amalia” he spoke, his tone having so many emotions in only one phrase

“Gojo, what do you need? I thought you didn’t need me anymore” her eyes were dull, how could they lost so much life in them?.

“…You know i didn’t mean it like tha-“ “i don’t need a mere mortal like you, those were your words, not mine gojo” his last name feeling so foreign in her tongue.

“Look, i was Young and i spent through my worst moments in that time” he sighed, running his slender fingers through his hair.

“i know, and i still stayed, i was there for you. But it’s okay now, because you don’t need me anymore, right?” she tilted her head to the side a little, her eyes never leaving his, just like when they were teens.

“I was stupid okay? You knew better than anyone” he said, a bit frustrated

“but keeping me by your side just to push me away later, was a stupid choice?” she muttered quietly

He furrowed his eyebrows at her words “What? No!”

“Are you happy? Did you achieve your goal of being the strongest?” it hurt her heart hurt, her ears ringed, and she finally looked at his face.

“…That’s a trick question…you know I am happy, but that doesn’t quit the fact that I need you” he looked at her, tightening his fist as he took note of her eyebags.

“…I, I just envy you” she admitted

“wha-?” before he asked she interrupted

“I envy you, because even after us you moved on, you’re happy, and you have a great life”

She walked out of the store,waiting for him to follow

“because even after you left me to regret, ready to hate you, I never did. I never moved on” “it felt like shit having your words play again and again in my mind, because a part of me knows that  you were right, I’m just a mere mortal who doesn’t have a damn purpose”

Hehr voice weak, both now were in a small park nearby.

“Amalia….don’t say that about yourself” his voice had a hint of softness, which besides from Suguru, she was the only that got to see, to hear him like this.

[yuriisclumsy]

𝖯𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗎𝖾, 𝙰𝚌𝚝 𝙸𝙸: Dvalin & the Wind Born Bard

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𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗅𝗒. 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 3839

Authors note: Guys are you excited!? One step closer to uncovering the mysterious quest given to [Name]! I won't take more of your time, onwards you go!

The rustling of the branches and the noises of my mad voice is heard throughout Windrise; even the slimes did not want to mess with me.

“AHHHG!!” I threw a tig at the big tree, frustration getting the better of me.

You may be wondering, why are you mad?

Well, my dear friends, I have been trying to make these powers of mine work for the past THREE hours.

Am I mad? No. 

Am I frustrated? Ehh…

I think the best word to describe this feeling is jealousy. For whom, might you ask?

For Sirius. I am extremely jealous of Sirius right now.

I already tried touching the statue of the seven for its corresponding element as he did. It did not work. Tried telling the system to give me powers; total failure. I even asked the old and wise tree if it could give me powers! …It decided I was unworthy of its recognition. 

So now I am left with no powers, and a will to punch something so hard it could travel all the way to Celestia.

“Ahg!” I aggressively kicked the tree, and in response, the tree let a branch fall on me, “ow–!” I rubbed my head for the pain to go away. “You think you're so mighty, huh!? Well, how about you come here so I can beat you up!” I yelled at the tree.

With a big sigh, I plopped on the edge of the tree on the grass that tickled my sides. I looked up at the branches of the tree; hatchlings were chirping at their parents to feed them; a squirrel running to hide the nuts in its mouth for when winter came around.

This was a rare moment where I could just…relax. Having Paimon’s never-ending dialogues – even the city’s loud gossip of Stormterror – made it difficult to find a window of silence like this one.

Thinking back, how did I end up here? What was the last thing I saw before coming here…? I was making grunting noises with how hard I was trying for a memory to pop up and give me a clue. In the end, I came up with nothing.

I wasn't one to forget things easily. So why are so many of my memories blank? This has been an issue ever since I awoke. I had just ignored it until now, thinking it was nothing but a fluke. But now, I think it’s not just a coincidence.

“Ahg…If it’s not one thing…it’s the other…” closing my eyes harshly wanting to forget this topic entirely. Remembering my original goal for coming here, I opened my eyes; reading the book I borrowed from the Scary Witch, Lisa is why I am here.

I reached for the book that I left forgotten at the side of me and began reading. ‘Teyvat’s History 38th Edition’… I skipped all the chapters I knew from the previous edition. ‘The beginning of Teyvat’, ‘The Archons’, ‘Nations’… ‘The…Divine City’? I don’t recognize that name. Did Amalia talk about this…? Hmmm… No, not that I remember.

I flipped the page and began reading.

In the far right corner of Teyvat stands a ‘nation’ that is different from the others. Not only is it ruled by a god that is not an Archon, but is also controlled by the heavens themselves. The nation is called the “Divine City,” in accordance to its link with the divine; and its ruler, ‘her Grace’, a god above the Archons, making sure that all is orderly in the realm the mortals roam.

A fancy way of saying it is Celestia's domain. I snorted at the thought of the Archons bowing down to this, so-called, ‘Grace’. That’s one way to keep them humble… I wonder if the story will take us there.

Before I could continue with my immersion, I saw a bright light from the corners of my eyes. I raised my arm to shield sensitive eyeballs from it; the light grew bigger until it dissipated into nothing.

With curiosity, I quietly closed my book, slowly standing up. I made small steps to get a better look at the side of the tree where the light came from. Please tell me it isn’t another one of those creatures. I don’t have Sirius to defend me! I leaned my body where only my left eye was in view.

At the foot of the tree stood a person. It was a boy; he wore a green cape and a green hat with a white flower attached to its side. With a lyre on his hip, he stretched raising his arms up towards the clouds, and breathed in the air that surrounded him.

“Ghn! Ahh… What lovely weather we have…”  his head turned towards my direction, “don’t we?” I hid behind the old trunk as fast as it was humanly possible. He had already noticed my presence, so what was the point in hiding?

I don't know how dangerous this boy could be. Even if he was small and meek, this world is a testimony that nothing it’s what it seems. Trust me. The slimes were cute too at the beginning, up until they tried to eat my hand when I tried to pet them.

The boy didn’t seem bothered by my reaction. Humming to himself, he placed the lyre that was on his hip up to his side. He strummed a few cords before his eyelids closed, preparing to play a song.

“There was once a tale of a nation like no other…” he began, and I listened in. “A land far right of the confines of the world, ruled by one far above the Archons, and with blessings from the heavens above.”

Wait, this is…

“The Divine City, they called it; the place where the divine descended, and a place where war could not wage. With hopeful hearts, mortals from all walks of life ventured to the city to find a refugee from the raging war.”

“To most, this was the only place where they could find true peace. But their hopes would soon be shattered, as the city too, would soon be dragged into war at its climax by jealous gods who fought for a seat in the heavens."

"Witnessing the devastation the city endured from the war, its ruler made a compromise with the heavens for a chance to save the people from such horrors; they had lost too many lives already, and they couldn't let this continue."

"The heavens granted the wish, but in exchange, they would abandon all favoritism they had, and never step foot there again…” The notes started to dissipate, marking the ending of the story.

“...And so, this place was sealed off from the world which had opened its doors to refuge,” the music died a while after he finished his tale.

That’s…it? What about the city now? What happens next? Is it still off-limits? Will the story take me there? When our eyes met I realized I had left my hiding spot. Shoot!

“Seems I again caught the interest of a curious star,” the boy said, glancing at me. 

“What..?”

“Hahaha! Don’t worry about me and my ramblings,” he diverted the subject. “Tell, what is the name that was given to you?”

Mother said not to trust strangers, especially weird ones. He must have noticed my skepticism because he went into a thoughtful state.

“How about this, I’ll introduce myself first, and then you can introduce yourself if you want! Ehem!” He prepares to give the best introduction to have ever existed. “I’m Venti. A humble bard and three-times-winner of the “Most Popular Bard of Mondstadt,” at your service!”

Venti…like, the Anemo Archon…? Oh…. OH NO.

“Hello…Venti,” I greeted with bullets of sweat dripping down my forehead as my head was in complete chaos.

This is the Anemo Archon, THE Anemo Archon! My body tensed up as I slightly bowed in a careful manner BECAUSE A LITERAL GOD WAS IN FRONT OF ME! I should calm myself down before I raise suspicion on myself. Bowing with such formality towards a bard is weird in the first place.

I tried smiling, which turned out to be more awkward than I wanted it to be, “it was enjoyable… The song I mean.”

With pride, Venti smiled, “I’m glad my performance was up to your standards!” He placed a hand on the tree and looked up, then he started to comfort the tree, “Poor dear friend of mine. She should have been nicer to you.”

“Y-YOU SAW THAT?!??!” This could not be happening to me right now!

“Of course I did,” Venti stated it like a fact. “It was quite sad seeing the way you treated this old friend of mine.”

[Internal dialogue of panic with second-hand embarrassment].

“We’re almost there!” a high-pitched voice said.

My saviors!

“Paimon!” I yelled excitedly as I skipped a few steps towards my traveling companions who had come in the right direction.

“Huh? [Name]! What are you doing here?” she questioned, then she looked at Venti. “There you are, you sneaky bard!”

“I was beginning to wonder if you two would even follow me,” Venti said as Paimon and Sirius got closer. “You three know each other?” He asked.

“Yup! [Name] right here is our other travel buddy,” Paimon explained. “Now, [Name]. Why exactly are you here?” And here I thought she would forget about me.

“I was here to read this book,” I took out the history book and put it on display. “I was about to read it…but then Venti showed up out of nowhere and startled me.”

“Whoops,” he scratched his head. “Guess I owe you a song as an apology.”

“...Can I request the story of the song?”

I want to know more about that city. And if Venti is a god, he should know far more than these history books, I glanced at the book.

“Why of course!” I smiled at my ticket to unlock a new place. Take that you stupid game restrictions!

“Venti, I know more about the Anemo god,” Sirius told the wise bard. 

“You speak of the God of Anemo, Babatos?” Venti clarified. “He disappeared from Mondstand a long time ago. Unlike Liyue’s and Inazuma’s respective gods are still present, but Mondstadt has seen many a moon since they last saw their own god.”

Disappeared, my a-s. You’re standing right in front of us.

“Why do you wish to know about the God of Anemo? Does it have something to do with Dvalin?”

“...Uh… Uhm… gods are…” Paimon’s feeble mind tried to come up with an excuse.

“Someone told me about Dvalin’s past,” Sirius said before Paimon fried her own brain. “They mentioned the Anemor Archon, so I wanted to know more about him.”

“Hmm… Just how is it that everyone sees Stormterror? I’m quite curious. That said, there’s no need to rush…” he looked at the side, “I have not been back in a while, it seems there are a few who are unhappy with my arrival.”

As we looked to where Venti’s gaze was fixated on, a strong gust of wind blew towards us, almost making Paimon go flying.

“I can’t…open my eyes…” Paimon said as she grabbed onto my cape. “What is that!? It looks like a ball with a tornado inside it!”

In the story, I remember fighting an Eye of the Storm after meeting Venti at Windrise. That thing is far more dangerous in person.

“That’s an Eye of the Storm!” I yelled, trying to ground my footing. “Sirius!” He looked back at me, “Be careful with it!”

“Got it!” He took out his Dull Blade and readied his defensive stand to launch forward.

“I’ll help as well!” Venti said as his bow materialized. “You two,” he glazed back, “stay behind the tree. And don’t come close, it may get vicious.”

“Right!” Paimon yelled back and pulled me with her, meanwhile Sirius and Venti fought the creature. 

Watching fantasy fights in the flesh is interesting, even more, if those characters have a different way of fighting that defies the ‘real world. Venti’s style of archery is unique from what I’ve seen on Earth. His movements feel relaxed and free; ideally, you want to be as stiff as possible from what Amalia told me when she trained.

The screech of the Eye of the Storm signals its defeat. The creature disappears into small particles of dust.

“Finally!” Paimon and I went out of our hiding spot. “That thing sure had a fighting spirit, that’s for sure.”

“Seems that the dragon wasn’t the only one affected by the change of winds...” Venti spared a few more seconds on the place where the Eye of the Storm was last. “Now then, you were saying someone had told you about the dragon?”

“Oh! Lisa told a lot about Dvalin. Something about him being mad that the people have left him discarded, and that the reason the situation has gotten to the level it did was because of both sides being violent against each other,” Paimon reiterated to Venti what Lisa told them about the dragon.

“Is that so? Quite the scholar I must say, Lisa.”

“Wait, is that true?” I asked.

I don’t remember the game saying anything about Dvalin being mad at Mondstadt for abandoning him.

“She’s not wrong. The conflict has reached this point, only because both sides have resorted to the use of force. His hate, however, does not stem from the people not making tribute to The Four Winds. Nor was it born from his own nature, but instead came about as a product of his degradation.

“Degra… what now?” Paimon tried sounding out the word.

“Degradation, Paimon,” I repeated.

“I–I knew how to say it, you don’t have to mock me!”

“Oh, yeah? Then, pray tell, Paimon, what is Degradation?”

“That’s…uh…it means…degragation is…”

“Degradation, not degragation,” I corrected her. “In this situation, it means that Dvalin has been suffering for a long while...”

“Really…?” Paimon looked concerned for the dragon.

“The black blood flowing through his heart has been torturing him for years. That’s what's allowed him to be led by the lies of the Abyss Mage.”

Agh…those guys are as much a pain in the butt as the Fatui. Can’t they leave a nation to breathe for a second?

“Abyss Mage? Isn’t that what we fought back when we investigated the Temples of The Four Winds?” Sirius said to Paimon.

“Huh-hu! Those are some pesky creatures! But they do seem to have some level of intelligence to have made a plan this big.”

“Isn’t the Abyss Order an organization?” I asked Venti.

“Correct. The Abyss Mage, along with other abyssal creatures, are an organization comprised of non-human beings. I’m not sure where they come from, all I know is they despise mankind,” Venti made sure to emphasize the hatred the Abyss Order has towards Humanity.

“Do they really hate humans that much?” Paimon shuddered a little.

“I mean, they are trying to manipulate Dvalin,” I said.

“Dvalin isn't the only one who they have control over. Many hilichurls out in the wild take orders from them and act as their weapons,” said Venti. “Before arriving here, I too was like Dvalin, cursed and left to waste,” he turned to look at the Windrise tree, “but now before us stands the Symbol of Mondstadt’s Hero, the place from which Mondstadt rose.”

“Being here with you beneath this great tree feels like when the tear was purified earlier. Like the poison is leaving my body…”

That sounds…romantic. Well, he is a bard.

“Mmmmm… Feels much better.”

“So…how exactly did you get poisoned?” asked Paimon.

“Ahh… that would be because I tried to communicate with Dvalin back in Whispering Woods, but was…interrupted…” Sirius scratched his head with an awkward smile. “As a result, not only did I not manage to help Dvalin break his curse, but instead, I was also infected myself.”

“Oh, ah…that… That was…us?”

“Don’t drag me into this,” I glared at him,” I wasn’t the one glowing with Anemo.”

“Yes, it was you!” Venti looked directly at Sirius. See? Not me. I wasn’t the one dumb enough to continue adventuring when a dragon was on the loose. “So, to make up for it, you lot are coming with me to the Cathedral!”

“Excuse?” I let out.

Paimon tilted her head, “the Mondstadt Cathedral? To do what exactly?”

“Oi, don’t ignore me.”

“To claim a certain “Holy Lyre der Himmel.”

“And why do I have to go?” They started walking away from me.

“Hello!?”

Why do I keep getting into situations like this…?

We returned to Mondstadt City some time ago, and we’re currently on our way to the Mondstadt Cathedral. Much to my displeasure. I tried leaving a few times but was caught by either Paimon's or Sirius’s puppy eyes that would stare at me, making me feel guilty for leaving.

“Why am I following again…?” I complained, I dragged my feet as we walked through the streets of Mondstadt.

“Because, [Name], you have left us ever since he came to Mondstadt. We are supposed to be travel buddies!” Paimon exclaimed.

“Exactly, travel buddies. And since we’re not traveling, I want to have my alone time, thank you very mucho.”

“Hehe…” Venti giggled, while Sirius snickered.

“What are you laughing about, mister?!” Paimon thumped in the air.

Venti let go of an airy laugh, “It’s nothing, really. I just find your relationship to be endearing. You two might even be considered siblings.”

“Thank you, but no thank you,” I rejected the idea of being Paimon’s older sister.

“Ewww! Not with her,” Paimon gave me a nasty look.

“Oi.”

“Paimon would never stoop as low as to admit that [Name] would be a reliable sibling!” She crossed her arms. “And even less that her cooking is amazing!”

My mood fluttered at the unintentional compliments. “...You think my cooking is amazing?”

Paimon’s little eyes wide at the realization of the things she wouldn't admit aloud. “Uh?! What? No! Paimon didn’t say that your cooking is the best Paimon’s ever tried!”

“Aweeee, Paimon…” I pinched her cheek like a doting mother. “You don’t have to be shy about complimenting my cooking skills.”

“Agh, stop!” she pushed my hand away, “and wipe that smug smile off your face!”

“No can do~,” I said singly.

“Paimon will show you not to mess with her!” Paimon quickly flew over, but I stopped her by the head, rendering her unable to move and with her small arms swinging back and forth trying to hit me.

“Calm down you two,” Sirius intervened just like the older sibling he is in our friend group.

“I’ll get you next time, just you wait…” she glared at me, and in response, I stuck out my tongue.

“So…”Holy Lyre der Himmel.” What is it?” Sirius asked Venti to get us to focus on something else.

“It is one of the most treasured items in Mondstadt. It’s the lyre Babatos used to play. With it, perhaps I can help Dvalin draw his gentle nature back out of this nightmare he’s going through.”

“Can a lyre really stop Stromterror from causing more damage?” The subject had been successfully changed.

“Of course. I’m the best bard in the world,” he puffed his chest. “There’s not a single song I don't know, no matter if it’s from the past, present, or future.”

That ego is really hard to break. I wonder if he's able to sing songs from my world…

“Look me in the eyes. Do you not find me trustworthy?”

“Look into my eyes. What are you hiding?” I looked deeply into Venti’s eyes, making him a bit uncomfortable.

I know what you are…

“The color of your eyes is like the sky in my hometown,” said Sirius.

“Hahaha, that one doesn’t work on a bard.”

Are these two just straight-up flirting?

“So…how can we get the Holy Lyre?” Paimon asked.

“It’s said that it’s enshrined deep within the Cathedral, somewhere safe,” Venti explained as he reached the level of the Cathedral, standing right outside its doors. “I’ll go take a look around. You can come if you want.”

“I’m good,” I rejected his invitation.

“Really?” Paimon got a bit sad, “you don’t want to come with us again?”

“Please don’t give me that sad look…It will make me feel bad.”

“Good! You better feel guilty for not spending any time with us!” She crossed her arms.

Well, now I don’t feel bad at all.

“Paimon, leave her be. She is still as new to Mondstadt, as she is to Teyvat. She doesn’t remember any of this, or if she even was from here,” Sirius reminded Paimon.

“...” Paimon looked at him and then frowned, “Oh, who is Paimon kidding? You’re right” She turned to me and apologized, “Paimon’s sorry… Paimon just missed you being with us…”

I paused for a moment, maybe regretting what I was about to say, “...How about this, I’ll stay right where I am until you guys return.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“...Okay. But Paimon better see you here when we return! Or else…” she threatened.

“O-K,” I signaled with my fingers.

“We should head in now. The more we delay, the more Dvalin suffers,” said Venti.

“You’re right,” Sirius said, then looked at me sternly, “Stay put. Paimon, let’s go.”

“Yes, sir!” And like that, they left.

 “...”

Did Sirius just tell me to stay still like a dog, or am I imagining things?

I sigh in defeat, “...just need to wait till they’re back. It can’t be that difficult of a task.”

Ding-Ding!

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…” I just had to open my mouth. I looked around to locate the screen that would always show up after the sound but found none. Had it been a false alarm? Looking at the people surrounding my area, I saw no one confused about a random alarm going off–although that might be Mondstadt's nature. “No one’s impressed by the sound, that’s for sure.”

Where did the sound come from? I inspected my surroundings again. Maybe I had missed something? I looked to the left, then to the right, up, down, spun around. I looked like a lunatic. Still, nothing I saw was out of the ordinary. Strange… I closed my eyes. Perhaps it's because I didn’t get any sleep last night.

Then, sparkles rained down. My eyes followed, landing on the old stone floor where a trail made of tiny particles began to form. The trail glowed towards the stairs leading down to the lower areas of Mondstadt, trying to pull me towards them. 

But I refused. I promised Piamon I would be here when they came out, and I will fulfill that promise.

I sat on the stairs leading up to the cathedral, moving around a bit, before settling my head down on my palm. And then another notification appeared.

[Your target is near!]

My curiosity was strong, but my loyalty was stronger… But, would taking a peak be that bad? Oh-oh.

“...Sirius, Paimon… Come fast…”

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @udretlnea, @taurus-caeli, @humongousoperatorhairdoopera, @aesir1, @creationmage, @savedpostsnotmain, @melanistium, @dontlookatmepreetyplease. Comment if you want to get added into the Tag section for The Divine City: Story. Related Series: Sub-Stories Arcs for more information about this AU.

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[nightowlwriting]

summary: (he never kisses her left hand, always her right, because she once told him that she’s nothing more than the anchor on her hand and the history of the fight with the archdemon so many years earlier.)

word count: 2.2k

warnings: subdrop, mentions of past child abuse, torture, and allusions to past almost-sexual assault (no assault occurred or is described in the fic)

note: i haven't written in a long time, so this is me easing myself into ktober24. also this takes place in MY canon for the dragon age series which heavily diverges from bioware's canon. eventually i'll get around to novelizing the warriorverse (my warrior playthroughs of the game) but with veilguard coming out in less than thirty days that will have to wait.

title credit: sufjan stevens

kinktober masterlist: here

amalia cousland: here

mobile masterlist - request - ao3

Cullen Rutherford is a strategist at heart and a man of his word. Born from a lineage of farmers, put through trials and tribulations that most men can only imagine - all to rise to the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces. Not without struggle, of course, especially as he falls deeper into his Lyrium withdrawal. But those struggles, the demons that come for him at night, and the gnarled roots of addiction inside of him don’t stop him from being the man that Amalia always knew he would grow into.

She remembers being a child in Honnleath, before the blight and before Ves and before shedding the heavy Sulzbacher name for the equally heavy Cousland name. She remembers being friends with Rosalie first, one year her senior, and then Branson next. Branson was a few years younger than Amalia, but she got along with him fine. Mia came next and then, finally, Cullen Rutherford.

She remembers that he was three years older than her and golden. Golden hair, skin touched by the long hours with his father and farm hands in the fields, and fundamentally benevolent. She first saw him through a curtain of her then-black hair after Branson had tripped her as she trotted alongside Rosalie, smiling down at her. She was only six at the time, to Cullen’s nine, but she knew. She knew that he’d go on to do great things, knew that he’d escape Honnleath like she wished that she could, that he would find a great love like in the stories her mother used to tell.

The world seems so simple when you’re less than a decade old.

Now, though, nothing has really changed. Amalia is still friends with Rosalie and Branson, though only by the letters she sends and receives from the South Reach. Cullen is still all of those things he was as a child, except now he’s been tested by the Maker in tragedy, war, and now one of the Magisters who first entered the Golden City. Selfishly, she’s glad that it’s Cullen. She’s almost thankful to the Maker and Andraste for all of the shit they’ve mucked Cullen through - and the shit that they’ve mucked her through - because it brings the two of them to now, this exact moment in time.

The truth of what nearly happened at Fort Drakon ten years ago had come out at the war table, but Cullen hadn’t looked at her any differently. They’d had the night together at the Winter Palace, after Amalia’s disastrous decision to dule that Duchess in front of the entire court, and Cullen remained stalwartly at her side. And then, when she’d gone up to his office to try and escape her meddling family he’d asked her to go back with him.

To Ferelden. To the Redcliffe arling.

To Honnleath.

She had been hesitant. Matthias surely wasn’t still there, but Amalia also didn’t want to risk seeing her father again, no matter the circumstances. She also didn’t want to see where so many of her happiest childhood memories took place - always at the Rutherford farm or sitting underneath the shade that Shale provided and never inside of her home - after the blight and after ten years of abandonment. But Cullen smiled so sweetly at her, took her right hand and pressed a kiss to her scarred knuckles, and said please.

(He never kisses her left hand, always her right, because she once told him that she’s nothing more than the Anchor on her hand and the history of the fight with the archdemon so many years earlier.)

Cullen had taken her to the lake, had given her his coin, and then taken her back to Honnleath where the bulk of the force they’d traveled with had finished the job they set out to do. Amalia doesn’t mind that they’ve gone through the small home, and dungeon beneath it, that had been her childhood abode. Doesn’t mind that they’ve taken her grandfather’s writings and research and loaded them in heavy boxes on the back of the bronto-drawn carts. She’s not a mage, just mage-blooded enough to pull off rituals as seen by the time she spent with Morrigan’s grimoire and the survival of her Grey Warden siblings. Amalia, at heart, is a warrior. If her grandfather’s works will help the Inquisition mages, then they shall be taken back to Skyhold.

It helps that Wilhelm Sulzbacher was a bastard of a man to everyone in his life, including his elven wife and golem. Amalia has nothing left for him, or her father, Matthias. It helps that he was also a bastard of a man to his elven wife, and elfblooded daughter. It’s almost cathartic to see the Inquisition soldiers - Amalia’s soldiers - carting everything up out of the dank basement she was so terrified of.

Cullen had let her watch for a few moments, standing in the spot that Shale used to stand in, before he took her back to the Rutherford house. It had been cleaned, probably at his request, and then…

Well, and then Cullen made good on his promise.

When she’d been nervous at the Winter Palace, he hadn’t pushed her into sex. They’d shared pleasure, yes, but not sex. Amalia hadn’t wanted their first time to be because of a duel and she agreed with Cullen’s sentiment: neither wanted their first time laying together to be in Orlais. They’re Ferelden at heart, and no amount of satin bedding or hearty foods could convince them otherwise. He’d promised her as he brought her off on his fingers that she’d know nothing but pleasure from him. He’d take her back across the border into Ferelden, he’d find a place comfortable for both of them, and if she wished it they would lay together.

Of course, being in the throes of an orgasm made Amalia agree to anything he was saying. Cullen Rutherford is a strategist at heart and a man of his word. As soon as the missive had crossed his desk about needing Wilhelm’s research, he knew that it was of the upmost importance that Wilhelm’s granddaughter, Amalia, be there when it was retrieved.

The fact that he had his childhood bedroom prepared, cleaned, and fitted with more expensive sheets before their arrival is none of anyone’s concern.

Except Amalia’s, but she’s not very concerned about that. She’s more focused on the way his skin feels against hers, hot and slick, and the way that pleasure still lays heavy in her limbs. Cullen has her pulled as closely as possible to him, legs tangled, as his hands roam up and down her bare back. He has been right when he’d told her that she needn’t worry with him. When Cullen had tried to press into her body for the first time and Amalia had flinched - barely noticeable but she knows that he notices everything about her - they’d prepared more.

(Prepared, of course, meaning that he’d put his mouth on her again until she peaked once more.)

There was never a moment in which Amalia Cousland felt like Cullen Rutherford was just fucking her to own her or taking what he wanted without considering what she wanted. His body over hers, so broad and muscular and golden, hadn’t felt like those moments before Alistair had kicked the door to the machine room down. Cullen’s hands handn’t felt like brands upon her skin - well, they had, but the good kind of brands. The kind of brands Amalia can see herself becoming addicted to. The way Cullen held her as he pressed into her hadn’t made her panic with claustrophobia or cry out in terror.

Amalia isn’t even sure she can call what they did fucking. That seems too… Primal of a word for what they shared. Love-making, maybe. It had felt like love, and she knows that she loves Cullen but can he love her? If he doesn’t, could he? Her past weighs heavy on her shoulders, and she can’t even escape it. Everyone knows the story of the girl who took the final strike on the archdemon at Denerim, of the Grey Warden who refused to let her die, of the Ashes that brought the girl back to life. The scar on the left side of her jaw, from just below her mouth to underneath her ear, is proof that she did die at the hands of the archdemon, that when Ves used the Ashes of Andraste leftover from healing the Arl of Redcliffe that they not only brought Amalia back to life but darned her face back together and left a mottled line of proof.

And now she’s the Inquisitor. The Herald of Andraste. She half believes it herself, because why else would the Ashes have worked? Why else would the Joining not have taken?

Why else would Ves and Alistair, both set on keeping her away from the Conclave and the fact that their Calling was shouting at them to be there, sent her with Bethany and Carver to see if they could find the other Wardens?

Why else would she have been the only survivor? Another moment of death and loss, and Amalia is still standing.

Before she knows it, she’s crying. She doesn’t want to worry Cullen, he already carries so much on his shoulders, but she can’t stop. Before long the heady, heavenly feeling of being in his arms, of knowing him and his body, twists and sours into panic and sorrow.

“Amalia?” Cullen asks, pulling only slightly away from her. Just enough to see her face, really, and she wonders what she looks like. Hair and eyes leeched of color because of her brush with death, scarred face, Anchor… She can’t possibly be the woman he thought he’d be in bed with. The woman that he thought he’d end up betrothed to. “Amalia, darling, what’s wrong?” His voice shakes and he cups her face with one hand, tilting her head up until she’s looking at him.

And, well, she can’t let him think he’s done something wrong.

“I am,” She finally warbles, shaking her head as best she can when she’s laying on her side tangled up in him, “I’m wrong. I should have died in Denerim, and I should have died during the Joining, and I should have died at the Conclave. How can you stand to look at me, Cullen?” Her voice breaks as she begins to cry in earnest, tears blurring his face as he looks at her.

“Oh, darling,” He whispers, bringing her close enough that his lips can press against her forehead, and then her nose, and finally on the jagged scar that reminds her of what she was willing to give up to protect Ves and Alistair. “I don’t care what should have happened,” Cullen finally says, pressing himself as close as possible, “I only care what has happened. Everything leading up to this moment, with you in my arms, is all that matters.”

“But we’ll never be free of it,” Amalia allows herself to sink into him, to press her nose against the side of his neck and drown in oakflower, eldermoss, and the faint scent of leather. “We’ll never be free from people knowing who I am, what I’ve done. I don’t care if it’s all good, if they think that I’m the Herald of Andraste. I just want a normal life. I want you to have a normal life, and I can’t give you that.”

Cullen shifts and for a brief second, Amalia is afraid that she’s chased him away. He only sets her down on the mattress and disentangles himself so that he can prop himself up over top of her. His hand cups her neck, large enough that his thumb can press and lightly rub back and forth over her scar. He smiles down at her, his own scar pulling slightly as he does so.

“You needn’t worry about me,” Cullen kisses her briefly, “Especially not about whether or not I want normal. I don’t care about normal, Amalia. Maker’s breath, the only thing I care about having is you. That’s all that matters to me.” She hiccups, tears still trailing over the sides of her face as she looks up at Cullen, and tries to believe him.

“But would you be happy with me?” Amalia asks, voice pitifully quiet. “If we were to stay together past the Inquisition, I mean.”

“If?” He asks instead of answering, “If? Amalia, I am in love with you. I would lay down my life for you. I don’t know what will happen past the Inquisition, I don’t know what will happen in ten years or twenty, but I know that I want you by my side.” He looks so serious, golden, that Amalia’s breath is taken away. “I want to be by your side.” He says, softer than he spoke before.

“You love me?” She asks, reaching for his face, “You love me?”

Cullen smiles crookedly, and it’s like the sun. It almost fully chases away the storm clouds that had settled in her chest. They’ll never truly be gone, not with what she’s seen and what she’s been through, but in Cullen’s arms and his bed, they don’t seem so scary. They don’t seem so all-consuming like they had been only moments before.

“Of course I love you,” Cullen says, “I can’t imagine a world in which I don’t love you.”

Amalia beams, then, even though her smile only reaches half of her mouth. It doesn’t bother her like it normally does because Cullen is kissing her, surging against her, pressing her into the soft cushion of the mattress underneath her. She lets him take her again, or maybe she shares herself with him again, and for a moment the world doesn’t seem so scary.

[blueshistorysims]

October 1936, Henford-on-Bagley, England

Eleora and Adanna often phoned each other whenever it was a reasonable hour for both. It was a sort of kinship they felt, both being outsiders. Eleora felt she could rant about her problems, and in turn, Adanna felt the same.

Lately, Adanna had been preoccupied with the birth of her daughter, Julianna, and the death of Thddeus’ father Jedidiah. Both events had only been a week apart, leaving the Gardenhouse family reeling. While Thaddeus mourned his father, he did not regret not making amends before his death.

Stella’s son Carl was already 11 while James had just turned 8. The duo were close, and Carl was often over to play since they went to the same private school. 

For the first time in her life, Stella was now working for a colored women's magazine as an assistant editor, meaning she had long hours and little time to spend with her son. Adanna admitted she pitied her, but the job had brought her out of her alcoholism and she no longer relied on her brother’s charity (except for her son’s schooling). 

Adanna then told Eleora of Julianna’s baptism, to be held in November. Adanna’s own brother and sisters were to be the Catholic godparents, but Thaddeus and Adanna wanted Eleora and Byron to also be godparents. Eleora was touched and eagerly accepeted, promising to bring the whole family, but when she hung up, she frowned. She had no idea when Byron was returning from Spain. His last letter implied he wouldn’t be home until December. 

“Mummy!” Simon-Elliot announced, opening the parlor room’s door with a little piece of paper in his hands. “The mail just arrived, and there’s a telegram from Papa!”

“Really?” She asked, standing up as her son handed her the note. 

“Oh my,” Eleora muttered when she finished reading the telegram.

“What did Papa say?”

She smiled. “He will be home in three days.”

Simon-Elliot gasped in delight and cheered. “Yes!”

“Now, before you rush off and tell your sister and Miranda, how would you feel about going to New York City?”

“We’re going to America?”

“Next month. Do you remember Mr. and Mrs. Gardenhouse? They’ve invited us.”

“Can I tell Amalia and Miranda about Papa and that we’re going to New York City?”

“Of course, darling,” Eleora replied as a sense of relief washed over her. Byron was coming home. 

[duckprintspress]

“A Truth Universally Acknowledged”: Sixth Teaser Post!

There’s only a few days left to back the crowdfunding campaign for A Truth Universally Acknowledged: Queer Fanworks Inspired by Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice.”We’re only $500 away from our funding goal as I type this, and there’s one day left on our Small Business Saturday/Cyber Monday flash backer level with lots of great stuff offered at an amazing price and big discount! As for right now, there are so many teasers to do, and so little time left! Today, let’s meet another two artists and three authors!

Story Teaser: Lyonel Loy

Title: Much Ado (About Quite a Lot)

Excerpt:

A good stout walloping wins over lunges and parrying and all of that other Proper Stuff, Mrs Bennet has always found, and a parasol is far more like a stick than a sword.

Darcy advances, feints once, and lunges—and Mrs Bennet opens his parasol.

“What!” Darcy cries, into a wide expanse of laced canopy.

“What indeed!” Mrs Bennet agrees. He shuts his brolly as swiftly as it opened, and thwaps! Darcy soundly about his squared shoulders.

Art Teaser: A. A. Weston

A. A. Weston created the artwork for our lovely Pride peacock note cards. There are four different designs – three are being offered to backers of this Kickstarter campaign, and the fourth is the bonus extra for our Patreon backers who also back the campaign – patrons at the $10/month and $25/month levels who also support A Truth Universally Acknowledged will get five note cards and envelopes, no matter what campaign level they support!

Title: Aroace Mary Living Her Best Life 

Story Teaser: Sage Mooreland

Title: It’s Just You

Excerpt:

“ANCHOVY! NO!”

That cry was the only warning Milla had. She looked in time to see a large silvery-gray blur, and then there were entirely too many limbs, heads, and tails for anything to make sense. She was aware enough that “Anchovy” must be the blur and that said blur must be a dog. Said conclusion was reached by the weight landing solidly on her chest and a large tongue bathing her face in enthusiastic greeting.

“Ackglrppffft!” Milla spluttered, laughing helplessly under the affectionate onslaught. She tried to protect her face enough to focus on what was happening, but between the dog’s determination and her laughing, she had absolutely no success.

A second dog appeared, making Milla laugh harder. The second was more interested in licking her arms, but fortunately, a human arrived very quickly after the second dog.

“I’m so sorry—Annie, c’mon. Sam, you’re not any better. Let ’em up!” Somehow, the dogs were wrestled off, and Milla, still mildly giggling, sat up wiping her face with the edge of her shirt.

“Are you okay?” The dog owner’s voice pulled Milla’s attention upward to meet the most beautiful—and worried-looking—light-green eyes she could remember seeing.

Art Teaser: Amalia Zeichnerin

Title: If only they could see it

Story Teaser: ilgaksu

Title: The Parsonage Becomes Her

Excerpt:

Well, today they buried the bastard. I cannot say I am shocked. He brought the final end to his long-seated dissipation fully and entirely on himself. Victor Whistham deserves the warm spot in Hell that has been waiting for him; and if women of my ilk are to join him, I will relish the quality seat to his suffering. No, what shocks me is how much the burying wounds me. For although I have longed—how I have longed, Theodosia!—to see the back of him, there’s something about death that scrounges within you for the last scrap of tender feeling you possess towards a man. And isn’t widowhood, for one such as me, just becoming a twice-abandoned wife? It reopens all the old wounds of it.

What am I to do, trapped amongst the horrible Ton, with you off in your blessed rolling hills?

This crowdfunding campaign ends on Thursday, December 5th at 1:15 p.m. Eastern time. Time is running out, so check it out while the checking it out is good!

[flowercrowngods]

just a teeny tiny little wintering kid fic thing for @cxwzkeys featuring transmasc!eddie/steve/johnny (that punk from family video) ❄️

Babies are the most punk rock thing to exist. Well, according to Eddie, they’re the most metal thing ever, but Eddie can’t be right about everything. They had lengthy arguments about it — lengthy only because they were busy laughing and kicking and fighting dirty about it (read: Steve distracted them both with kisses and scalp massages).

Secretly, Johnny decided that Val is their metal baby and Sue is their punkrock baby. Valerie Amalia Munson, born into the world during a glorious summer storm and crying her lungs out. “Most metal ever,” Eddie had breathed, exhausted and sweaty and so, so warm after giving birth to their babygirl.

And Johnny let’s them have it.

But Sue? Suzie Joanne? With her wild, blonde mane that Johnny likes to pretend to spike up into a mohawk? Oh, she’s his little punkrock baby, alright. Especially with that little pointy hat she’s wearing right now, sleeping soundly in her papa Steve’s arms while he caresses chubby red cheek whispering nonsensical promises to her sleeping form. It never fails to make Johnny smile, even as Joyce has him wrapped up in a conversation about… something. He’s not listening. Not when that’s his babygirl sleeping so soundly in the arms he knows can make anyone feel safe.

Joyce stops talking and follows his eyes, her hand coming up to Johnny’s forearm as she strokes him gently, as though she understands and forgives him.

“She’s beautiful,” she says.

“Yeah,” Johnny says. “She is.” Then, remembering where he is, he snaps out of it and looks back at Joyce, who has this awfully gentle look on her face, her eyes almost watery. She knows. She’s a parent, and she knows.

She had two little punkrock babies, too, even though Big and Baby Byers are a lot more normie about it.

He grins at her and motions for her to follow him. “How ‘bout we make some hot chocolate for those two, hm?”

“Oh, you deserve one just as much,” Joyce says, lightly nudging his shoulder as they walk through Steve’s winter holiday home — it should still be a crime that this exists, but Johnny knows how excited his idiot lovers get about snow, so he’ll pause the agenda for two weeks, in the name of stars in Steve’s and Eddie’s eyes. But after that, it is on!

“But I didn’t—“

“Yes, you did,” Joyce says, gathering all the stuff she needs to make her infamous holiday hot chocolate — these should really be capitalised, in his very secret opinion. “You’re doing a lot, all three of you, raising those two wonderful girls. And you’re doing enough. You deserve a treat about it even if you’re not drowning in house and care work, boy, when will you learn that?”

Johnny smiles sheepishly, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck, not really comfortable with the easy affection just because.

“Sorry, ma’am. Yes, ma’am.”

“Now that’s what I wanna hear. Come, help me.”

And so he does. They work in silence, the entire situation still so unreal to him. Standing in this lavish kitchen in his big house somewhere in the middle of nowhere as humongous flakes of snow keep falling outside while he can walk around here in socks.

Some part about him wants to be angry about it. But another part is just… calm. Happy. Indulgent.

They get to have this, get to invite Steve’s found family here each year before the rest of Eddie’s and Johnny’s will arrive, too, for two weeks of winter fun.

Two weeks where his little family gets reminded of how big it actually is. It takes a village, they say — and man, they really actually almost got one. It’s insane. He loves them all so much.

The rest are lounging around the fire, with a very mortified-looking Hopper trying not to move as a two-year-old little metal gremlin girl spends her nap time sleeping on his stomach.

Johnny grins as he meets his eyes, saluting to him with too much cheek, knowing it will land him face-first in the snow later, but he doesn’t care as he carefully balances three too-large mugs of hot chocolate in his hands, walking over to his best guys over on bank by the large window.

Steve has stopped whispering things to his little banshee girl and is gently swaying her this way and that instead — Johnny wonders if he’s aware he’s doing it.

He watches for a moment, just to take it on, just to feel again how unreal everything is. Still he can’t help the smile as he steps closer and presses a kiss to the crown of Steve’s head, who hums in affection.

“Need me to take over?” he asks, finishing off with another kiss. “Take her for a while?”

Steve shakes his head, leaning back slightly to look up at him, his head bumping into Johnny’s stomach as he does, earning himself another kiss.

“No, she’s asleep.”

Eddie scoots closer to Steve to make room for him on their bench.

“Come sit with us?” they ask, barely tearing their gaze away from the dancing, tumbling snowflakes outside, their voice just as quiet as Steve’s, just as hushed, just as reverent. It’s the snow, Johnny figures. It’s the snow and their little babygirl.

Johnny hums and leans over to the side, lightly kissing Eddie and brushing his lips to his little girl’s forehead, too. It’s so… magical, having this tiny little human who is already so different from their other tiny human. Most beautiful goddamn thing he’s ever seen, both of them.

“I love you, little punkrock baby,” he whispers, delighted to see she doesn’t even stir. Delighted to see she feels so safe. So calm. That she can just fall sleep anywhere. She’s like her papa Steve.

“I love you, too, you big punkrock baby,” Steve says, bumping his nose into Johnny’s cheek with a smile. “Now come. Rest. While you can, before madame decides she’s jealous of this very delicious smelling hot chocolate you’ve acquired there.”

“Fuck off,” he chuckles, handing over their mugs as he slides in on Eddie’s other side, resting his arms on the window sill and just watching his little family for a bit.

In the end, they make use of the quiet they’ve been given when Eddie leans against Johnny and Steve against Eddie, the three of them falling asleep in a little pile, their baby safe in her papa’s arms.

It’s only when Val comes over an hour later and decides she wants to be part of their cuddle pile, too, that they have to stir and rearrange. She ends up in Johnny’s lap, watching the snow as Eddie tells a story about a Snowflake named Sam.

Johnny pretends not to listen raptly.

[stormlit]

❛ i need to talk to you. i'm at home, when you're free. ❜

it would have been easy to go and find armand, but the last place amalia had wanted to talk to him was the theatre, with its listening ears and disdainful looks. it's been a long time since she felt welcome there, since she enjoyed going. at least paris has enough other theatres for her to frequent, often with armand, that she doesn't feel its loss all too terribly. so she asks him to come to her instead, answers his approach by swinging the door open with a flick of her hand from where she rests on the couch, legs up across it and a bottle of nail polish in her hand. he lives here as much as she does, but tonight it's her domain.

❝ darling, ❞ she greets without looking up, dragging red varnish across the last of her nails and recapping the bottle, leaning over to put it on the coffee table. ❝ did you know that your coven is still following me? ❞ she sounds calm, she looks calm. but amalia has always been a predator prowling the shadows, waiting for her moment to pounce, and calmness is just a front, a misdirection. she is angry. ❝ they think they're so smart, as if i don't know they're there. as if i can't hear what they think of me, as if i can't feel them scrabbling inside my head, trying to get at my fucking thoughts. ❞

amalia nurses her grudges, always. she remembers her slights. and this is something that has been building, held to her chest until she snaps. ❝ it's been years, armand. my patience wears thin. ❞ she looks up at him now, meets his eyes. their connection has always been...intense and honest, and she needs to know. because with the anger comes hurt, too. ❝ did you tell them to watch me? ❞

@devourcr