#suchanadorer

[astudyinpanda]

rules — shuffle your “on repeat playlist” and list the first ten songs, then tag ten people

Thank you for the tag, @mystical-salamander ! Have some synthwave, TV soundtracks, and trailer music. Sorry about the SPN jumpscare. It's in a playlist for XCOM 2's Avenger mobile base, and I'll have you know it's a perfect fit, tonally.

Reframed Future - Schlepp Geist [genuinely good stuff]

Planet F - Moritz Hofbaur

Beacon (feat. Dimi Kaye) - Volkor X [sampled quote is from the radio drama Earth Abides]

Scrap Metal - Dominic Lewis [drastic tone shift time!]

Cherry Blossoms - Dominic Lewis [I am obsessed with 2:30 to 3:15]

Signals - Timecop1983 [back to synthwave]

Exoplanet (Alex Stein Remix) Intara, Alex Stein, & Third Person

Luna (Extended Mix) - Ann Clue

The Grateful Undead - Christopher Lennertz

Life on the Frontlines - Epic Score

No-pressure tagging: @theres-whump-in-that-nebula @befuddled-calico-whump @gettiregretti @allroseshave-their-thorns @samati @suchanadorer @usedkarma @boxoftheskyking @mossywriting @nonhumanhottie and you if you wanna play

[windup-viera]

@writerman and I decided to let our WoLs get married today! Look at these gorgeous screenshots by @suchanadorer 🥺♥️ we had a lot of fun afterwards with @coincidencemagnet just bullying each others minions via emotes.

[windup-viera]

@writerman​  @coincidencemagnet​ @suchanadorer​

Zenos Boba

[storybookhawke]

For the second trick-or-treater, Leliana answered the door!

[barbex]

Thane/Shepard, dancing :D

Thank you, darling!

—

She had not expected this. After all the quiet but persistent complaints from him about being an old man, whose cybernetic lungs are not made for this, she had not expected to enjoy their dance. He had even told her that he never learned any human dances, as there had be no necessity for it back when he learned to dance for his work.

But now he has taken her to the center of the dance floor, lightly holding her hand in his, and pulls her close. His hand on her back holds her to his body, leading her with surprising strength. His other hand supports her arm lightly, his fingers gently caressing her hand. 

She stumbles at first, surprised by his ability and not used to giving command of her motions to someone else.

“I thought you didn’t know any human dances.”

A chuckle rumbles up from his chest. “I prepared for this mission.”

“It’s a mission?”

“Yes,” he murmurs in her ear, causing a shiver to roll down her spine. He holds her even firmer, giving her no chance to move in any way he doesn’t permit. “And in this mission,” he growls, “I lead.”

[windup-viera]

@writerman @coincidencemagnet @suchanadorer

to the person who added those tags onto one of my previous hythades posts. truly thank you from the bottom of my heart for this revelation

[thebarefootking]

Thank you! I’m finally getting started on my dream! :D

[fandom-age]

text overlaid atop the dragon age logo that reads Erin ( @gremlinquisitor/@suchanadorer) is a wonderful person to have in the Dragon Age fandom - she is always so patient and kind and supportive and always thinks of others. To top it off, she is a fantastic writer and many of us are looking forward to her Padi Hawke/Sebastian Vael fic "Recreate His Worldly Glory" when she finishes and publishes it!"

[hurryupmerlin]

Well, time to summon y'all: @suchanadorer, @skjwadraws, @reap3r, @pati79, @posstrophe, @happycalm, and everyone who wants to do it!!

starting another picrew chain, it's been a while :3

link here!

going off the cuff as I'm at work and not able to access my taglist (also no pressure what so ever): @humanitys-strongest-bamf @wyvernslovecake @missamity @happybird16 @the-milk-anon @jayteacups @sckerman @averysmolbear @youre-ackermine @roseofdarknessblog @levis-squishy-cheeks @genyastolemyheart and who ever sees this and wants to play along!! Tag, you're it! ☺️

[natsora]

You’re an amazingly talented writer! Pass this along to 10 writers you admire to spread around the love!

You made my day!! Thank you so much! And right back at you!

[hollyand-writes]

I was gonna say that you're a violin writer before I even got the regency thing, but then also definitely cello. Or at least from a reader POV it feels like you're a cello writer!

Oh my gosh Erin you are an absolute *sweetie* and I’m so sorry that I’ve replied to this lovely ask so late! And thank you so much! ❤️ And ssshhhhh, you are a talented and amazing writer yourself, please know that! 

(Also, is it embarrassing how long it took me to work out that you were referring to this post from my queue earlier?!?! I swear I didn’t drink that much tonight) 

Anyway. Thank you so much for being so kind! ❤️ I often don’t feel like I’m a terribly engaging or talented writer, but it really means a lot to me that you think I am! 

I think the only bit of that description I agree with is “they’re full of empathy and it hurts them to kill off characters”, because that bit is true, but it made me so happy that you thought much of the rest of it was too. Thank you so much and big hugs for being so lovely! 

[gingerbreton]

Relationship asks: 22 and 23 for Freya and Thom!

Thank you so much for asking! These were really good questions, I had to have a proper old think!

Freya x Thom

22. From the outside looking in, what is their dynamic like?

I’d say they have a surprisingly healthy dynamic given some of the obstacles the relationship has had to overcome, including regaining lost trust. I wouldn’t say that there is any kind of power imbalance, despite Freya’s position as Inquisitor, or Thom’s previous lies, they have always been very careful of each other’s emotions and wellbeing. They are both a little prone to bouts of depression/self-loathing, which tend to be the times when more destructive decisions are made, but they tend to honestly believe that it would be better for the other party if they weren’t around, for example. Thankfully they do manage to move past this destructive behaviour with time and understanding. They are highly supportive of each other, seeing past flaws that the other struggles to get past in themselves. They very much help each other to grow and move past previous trauma.

23. Did you tailor your OC for the other in the romance?

I didn’t actually tailor Freya for him at all, to be honest, even though I’d planned on romancing Blackwall with a rogue Trevelyan (I do love a human rogue), Freya turned into a completely different creature than what I’d originally thought. She was going to be far more extroverted and sassy, and yes she has these qualities but they’re are tucked away under a hefty dose of trauma, but in the end she’s turned out far more gentle and far less prepared for what the universe has just flung at her. We know Blackwall loves his strong women, and I suppose Freya is strong in her own way, he just needs to peel away a few layers of neuroses before he can see the real her.

[beelzeblogging]

Pumpkin, ouija board, werewolf! 🎃🐺👻

🎃Pumpkin: What is your favorite season?

I used to really like summer, but allergies are a real bitch.  Now it’s spooky season all the way.

👻Ouija Board: If you could change your name, what would you change it to?

I wouldn’t.  I really like my name.  

🎃Werewolf: What is your favorite urban legend?

I like ‘humans can lick too’ or the ‘Erzsebet Bathory bathed in the blood of 600 virgins to be beautiful’.  The second is thematically very interesting, especially when you consider the lore around blood bathing and that a lot of times the only power women had was in regards to their marriages and connections with men.

But that’s a rant for another day.  

[laurelsofhighever]

Hello! For DADWC: A top of the head kiss!

Hello! I cheated a bit for this, but I thought was a fun scene. For @dadrunkwriting a bit of campfire fun for my DA:O crew. Hope you like :)

“Who’s a brave warrior?”

“He’s so loyal!”

“Such a good boy, aren’t you?”

Cuno whined pitiably and wiggled his stub of a tail in anabject manner, his dark eyes rimmed with white as he looked up at his mistress.Rosslyn had him trapped between her thighs, pincered in place with her armswrapped around his broad chest and belly, just in case he tried to squirm away.The last battle had been harder than most, a legion of skeletal dead soldiersin tattered Orlesian finery, disturbed by the passage of a darkspawn emissaryover their resting place. The dog had launched himself at the biggest opponent,a corpse in the armour of a chevalier, and though he managed to drive thespirit out, one clumsy swipe of the enemy’s sword had left a nasty gash acrossthe flesh of his paw. It was deep, but surprisingly clean, and would healwithout fuss as long as infection was kept at bay. While Rosslyn held him down,Leliana dressed the wound, and the two women took it in turns to croon theirreassurances while he looked on in despair that nobody was coming to save himfrom such torture.

Leliana tipped some of their rubbing alcohol onto a clothand reached for the wounded limb. Cuno yelped, but Rosslyn was ready, andtightened her grip to keep him from struggling.

“Easy, easy,” she murmured, and kissed the top of his head.

He twisted around and licked her chin, wild-eyed for pity,but nevertheless he let his paw be cleaned and bound in a thick linen bandage.The final touch was the addition of an empty herb pouch to act as a boot so hecould walk without damaging himself further. As Leliana tied it onto his legwith a leather thong, he tried to wheedle his way in place of her hands andnibble at it without her noticing, but she pushed his head away and laughed.

“This is for your own good, you know. You’re not allowed totake it off.”

The dog whined at her.

“Oh don’t be such a baby,” she chided. “You’re all done now,see?”

At her nod, Rosslyn let go, chuckling as he leaped out ofher reach and shook himself all over, then limped like an ailing veteran overto Wynne, who had to quickly put aside her grimoire to avoid it being coveredin drool. With the fuss over, she wiped the side of her face, grimacing at theslime that coated the back of her hand.

Leliana grinned. “I think we have truly earned our suppertoday, no?”

“Definitely.”

Their portions had already been ladled out into their bowls.Rosslyn took hers from Zevran with a nod of thanks, and settled down to eat.She still wasn’t used to her increased Warden appetite, but at least now sheknew the reason for it.

Zevran was watching her.

“Problem?” she asked, amused.

“Oh not at all,” the former assassin replied. “It is only,watching you handle that beast so expertly, I thought I should point out thatour dear Alistair, too, suffered a blow in the last encounter. I fear he mayneed similar attention if he is to –”

The last of his words were cut off as Alistair, sitting nextto him, choked on his food and fell into a rough bout of coughing. Zevranclapped him good-naturedly on the back.

“You see? He is most ill.”

His eyes met Rosslyn’s. Whether his cheeks flamed from embarrassmentor suffocation was difficult to say, but her own face heated in response nevertheless,and she set her spoon carefully back into her bowl as she collected her answer.

“He also has two hands,” she pointed out delicately. “I’msure he can manage himself.”

She stiffened as the elf burst into laughter, her earsburning but her noble’s pride refusing to be cowed by such cheap mockery. Shebent her eyes to her stew and didn’t say a word for the rest of the night, butwhen time came to retreat into her tent, she couldn’t help but dwell on herinnuendo, and on the quiet, hissed Maker’sbreath that had been Alistair’s response.

[storybookhawke]

Happy birthday, I hope you have an excellent day!

Thank you!

[writerman]

OK, so, I don't know if you've written it yet, but if you haven't, then you should definitely write Christmas fic for them, or the closest available seasonal celebration, let Thranduil show off how the Elves celebrate since Bard probably has no idea.

//OK! So I took an immensely long time to respond to this and I am so very sorry about that ahaha. I ended up picking the Spring Equinox as it is the closest holiday I think Thran would celebrate because Easter would be kind of weird. Even if I totally want to see him hiding eggs for kids.

---

The invitation had been extremely formal, written on thick cream parchment in flowing green script. When it had first been delivered Bard had set it aside while he finished paperwork, after all, as the King of Dale he had priorities, even if the fancy sealed letter did look like it had come from the elven realm.

Once everything he had set out to do that day had been done, the brunet returned to the sealed letter, it felt warm under his hands as though it had been laid out in the sun all day. Turning it over his heart have that family flutter at the sight of the elven king’s sealed pressed into the wax.

It always seemed a shame to break the seal but Bard did so and unfolded the letter to read, as he did the smell of spring flowers wafted up from the warm paper in his hands, such a fanciful letter which meant it must have been important.

It was kind of.

A celebration of the spring equinox…

Bard called the children in and explained the letter and three very excited faces peered back as they begged for the opportunity to attend.

“Well… We have all been working hard lately, me with… well being King and you all with school work and whatnot. I suppose we could go, but it all depends on if you think I am the best dad ever or not…” Upon hearing his words the children dive on him wrapping their arms around him and nearly toppling him over in their excitement.

“Da, stop joking around and reply to Lord Thranduil already.”

The invitation was accepted in a short and polite letter and sent off via the bird it had been delivered by in a matter of moments.

---

As the celebration was to be at night, Bard, the children and several guards set off in the early afternoon. Though the sun shone down upon them from a bright blue sky they were still wrapped in cloaks to protect them from the sharp cold of the wind, the last of the winter that lingered on.

It wasn’t long before the three children began to whine at the length of the journey, Tilda first as riding horseback was still new to her and uncomfortable. Eventually, Bard stopped and had her riding with him while one of the guards tethered her horse to his and led it down the winding road while Bard entertained all with a short story from his childhood.

Soon the fields and rivers gave way to trees, becoming denser as they travelled deeper into the heart of the great forest known now as Mirkwood.

They were greeted by Tauriel at the gates of the palace and the children called out to her excitedly running to her once helped down from their horses.

Bard was ushered into the King’s rooms almost immediately while the children were taken to the rooms they would be staying in to wash up and change for the evening festivities.

Thranduil was sat at his desk, not dressed as extravagantly as he usually is, a tunic of pale grey, darker leggings and boots the match, his hair in a perfect braid, he had gotten up from his seat as soon as Bard had entered and greeted him with a bright smile, as though disbelieving of the other’s presence.

“Greetings, old friend.” They bowed formally before Thranduil pulled the other into an embrace clearly happy to see the familiar face of Bard. “I must say you look well, perhaps being the ruler of Dale is suited well to you.” He moves back toward his desk where two goblets sat along with a silver pitcher, which was likely wine, pouring drinks for the both of them Thranduil hands one to Bard.

“Starting early are we?” Bard asks but he takes the goblet without hesitation, after the long trek to Mirkwood he absolutely needed it.

“This is a grand farewell to winter, a joyous occasion when the young elves of my kingdom request the hand of those they adore. When flowers start to bloom, we start anew in Spring, Bard. It is a time to lay old hurt to rest and allow life to carry on as it always should.”

The king of Dale merely nodded and took a long drink from his goblet. There was a brightness in Thranduil he hadn’t seen before, he enjoyed it and wondered where it stemmed from.

---

Bard stood in front of the mirror in the chambers offered by Thranduil readjusting the collar of his robe yet again.

Something felt off with the whole outfit, Sigrid had dropped in to tell him they were all heading out to the forest without him if he took any longer, she mentioned that his unease was probably because the clothing was the most expensive thing he’d ever worn before, Bard agreed but did not leave his chambers.

The children left for the forest without him with Tauriel in tow ever watchful as they wandered through the twilight lit forest toward the clearing intended for the celebrations.

A knock on the door pulled him from his reflection and he called for whoever it was to enter, his hands still tugged at the fabric of the robe as Thranduil swept in with a knowing look.

Bard caught a glimpse of the elven king dressed for the equinox and his hands stilled while his eyes took in the vision behind him.

Thranduil wore a pale green tunic and leggings under a robe of white and silver, his hair free of the braid now and hanging over his shoulder in a perfect curtain of white blond. His crown was fashioned from silver birch twigs and white cherry blossoms, fine silver chains adorned the twigs and glinted in the candlelight as he moved past Bard’s bed to stand behind him.

“Fair Sigrid was correct, you are worrying yourself over your outfit. Stay your hands Bard and let us join the celebrations before they are over. Come enjoy the night and forget who you are supposed to be and come only as Bard.” The elf placed a hand on Bard’s shoulder and pulled him round away from his reflection, he watched as Bard sighed and moved his gaze from himself to the floor.

“Yes, that sounds like a good plan. Does that mean tonight you come only as Thranduil?” He received an odd look from the king of the forest but Thranduil nodded before moving off to leave the room only stopping to gesture for Bard to follow him.

---

The festivities were in full swing, wine flowed easily while music played and many danced around the clearing smiling brightly as those they shared their joy with. Many came with flowers in their hair, some had made flower crowns and passed them out to those that sought out further adornment.

Tilda and Sigrid found them beautiful and Thranduil sought out 2 for the young princesses.

Bard had seen many proposals that night, young elves shyly shuffling up to others and expressing their love and offering shining silver rings which were accepted readily, Bard aw what great joy it gave Thranduil to see his people happy like this and wondered if the elven king had someone in his life he wished to share such a moment with.

As though his thoughts could summon Thranduil the blond appeared at his side holding two goblets of wine, his beautiful silver and white robe missing from his person, though he didn’t seem to miss it so Bard didn’t mention it, he only accepted one of the goblets instead and offered the elf a smile in thanks.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself, my lord Bard. Is something amiss?” Thranduil’s voice was quiet but Bard strangely could still hear him over the music and singing. “I had hoped the celebration would renew you, give you space to be you rather than the king of Dale.”

It had, he just had been lost in thought and those thoughts had run away from him leaving him seemingly out of sorts.

Bard offered a smile to Thranduil as though trying to convince him all was well.

“There were many proposals tonight, do you think you could do all that again?” Bard asks his eyes gaze now turning toward the dancing youths, one of them spots Bard watching them dance and blushes pink, they approach him and take their flower crown from their head and places it gently on Bard’s head.

“This night you are the king of the woodland realm, Lord Bard.” Their voice shook as they spoke but they smiled, all the same, Bard had the suspicion that this was a subtle flirting technique.

As flattered as he was he knew he was never able to reciprocate, even if it seemed only a drunken fling among the spring blooms, his heart was not moved and could not be swayed regardless of the amount of wine he had consumed.

“Would you dance with me?” It was likely an innocent request but Bard could not bring himself to move from his spot under the willow tree, he gripped his drink and prepared himself to say no, but before he could Thranduil stepped forward.

“I believe Lord Bard is too old to be dancing with you, young one. It would be unseemly for him to accept.” The younger elf nodded and hurried off to hide their embarrassment, though they did seem to receive a warrior’s welcome upon returning to their friends, so their mortification was likely soothed.

When Bard glanced over at Thranduil the elf’s expression was stony as he looked out across the clearing. They remained quiet for some time until Thranduil turned the expression to Bard though it softened quickly.

“Forgive me if I overstepped, Bard. I did not think you would appreciate a teenager mooning over you.”

“You’re right, no offence taken, you refused on my behalf but I had planned the same. Though, it does seem to leave me without a dancing partner.” The brunet responded as he set his now empty goblet down on a nearby table. HIs words garnered a smile from the blond and he too set down his drink before offering his hand to Bard to dance.

“It would be my pleasure to take their place.” As they danced amongst the others they chatted idly, Thranduil spoke of letters he had received from Legolas and Bard caught him up on the progress of Bain’s weapons training.

“I… know this may seem a silly question, but is it normal for two kings to dance together this way?” Bard offers a crooked grin as he speaks as though to prove he is merely asking more in jest than worry.

“What happens happens, and anything can happen when the spring equinox is upon us. Should I find you a pretty maid instead?”

“You are prettier than any maid.”

“The wine has gotten to your head, you’re out of sorts, Lord Bard.”

“Quite the contrary, my Lord Thranduil. The wine gives me the courage to say the things I truly wish for you to hear.”

“I see, interesting effect alcohol has on you, I must admit, I do rather like it.”

They both pause their dancing for a moment.

Did they want the same thing?

Without another word Thranduil led Bard away from the revellers and into the gloom of the forest, the music could still be heard but the light from the lanterns was dim here and only they stood among the silent trees.

“Bard... “ The blond stopped, he didn’t know what to say, what could he say to convey just what he wanted, words failed him and he could only feel the thumping of his own heart at that moment and it sped up when Bard smiled at him reaching out to caress the loose strands of white blond hair hanging over Thranduil’s shoulders.

“Might I borrow your words from earlier?” Bard begins, the alcohol in his veins bolstering him in his courage as he moved to close the distance between them. “What happens happens and anything can happen when the spring equinox is upon us.” There’s a beat of silence before Bard presses a kiss to Thranduil’s wine sweetened lips.

Thranduil’s shoulders sag not realising the tension he had held in them as Bard spoke, but now he had time to rejoice, and the relief and joy flooding him was a heady mix. He moaned quietly, his hands moving to grab the fabric of Bard’s robe in a bid to steady himself.

When they parted Thranduil sighed though the sound was one of frustration, it was too little, it was not enough for him, a single kiss…

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you not satisfied?” Bard asks almost laughing as he pushes Thranduil back toward the well-lit clearing, though when Thranduil resists he looks up giving him a soft and affectionate look. “You can have as much of me as you like later, but we need to keep up appearances at this celebration, it is important to you and I am not letting wine and lust stop you from doing your duty to your people.”

---

When Bard woke the next morning his head ached like a stampede of horses had trampled over him, his body ached his muscles sore and tight, that wine really had done a number on him and he did not appreciate past Bard’s proclivity for drinking it whenever it was offered to him.

When he finally had the courage to open his eyes he was greeted by a mass of blond hair on his chest. His mind raced through the events of the celebration the night prior. He’d drank wine, watched the party from afar and enjoyed the music, he had spoken with Thranduil then they had kissed…

Then they had KISSED!!!!

The rest of the memories came flooding back and he had to hold back from yelling, he’d slept with the king of Mirkwood.

He, Bard King of Dale, had slept with Thranduil… they’d drunkenly fallen into bed together and…

The mass of hair moved suddenly and Bard heard the sound of a groan coming from his chest. Thranduil pushed himself up into the sitting position and ran a hand through the now tangled mess on his head.

“Why do I do this to myself, every year I remind myself that a king must have self-restraint and yet every year without fail I drink so much wine that I suffer for days afterwards….” He seemed to be talking to himself and Bard jumped when his piercing gaze is suddenly on him, though at least Thranduil didn’t seem surprised to see him…

That was certainly something.

“You look as though spirits haunted you all night.” He said before flopping back down into bed to lie next to Bard. “How is your head?” Bard knew his voice was quiet but he couldn’t help but wince, oh it truly sounded as though the elf beside him was yelling and his stomach did an unhealthy feeling flip as he rolled on his side to face the blond.

“I will be honest, I feel as though someone dropped a mountain on me.” He smiles weakly and Thranduil returns it without hesitation, they lie in silence for a while after that but remain close. Bard rests his hand on Thranduil’s hip and strokes the soft skin there for a long time.

It feels right to be there even if it had taken him some time to realise where ‘there’ was.

“Did you enjoy how we celebrate the equinox here in my kingdom?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely, but tell me, do you usually woo kings of neighbouring kingdoms into bed or am I an exception?”

“You’re the first one to accept… I am, of course merely saying this in jest, I hope you know that this was serious for me.” Thranduil’s playful smile had gone and was replaced with something akin to fear that Bard wanted to remove as soon as he saw it.

“Yes, as it was for me. Though, let us hope no one noticed their king leaving with another last night.”

“They would have noticed but will have the grace not to speak on it, not for a long time.”

“Who knows, maybe the next spring equinox will be just as eventful.”

“We can only hope...”