#talen lavellan

[mstigergun]

Welcome!

Regularly has feelings about: Dragon Age, Mass Effect, social justice, fandom, writing, and creative collaboration

This blog has been resurrected following a long hiatus (thanks Veilguard!). Over the years, I've written a lot of fanfiction and will continue to do so for eternity, mostly featuring original characters, and also sometimes I write just fiction-fiction. There are generally a dozen stories rattling around in my little brain at any given time and that's the way I like it!

I treat my blog like a little dragon horde of things I think are neat and/or things that make me have feelings and/or shiny things that pop up and catch my fancy. I used to have a coherent tagging system but ALAS, that is no longer a massive priority for me.

Important tags and links for your consideration:

Link: AO3

Tag: AU: Inglorious (ie, DA:I ocverse)

Page Link: AU: Inglorious

Tag: Leonid Trevelyan

Page Link: Leonid Trevelyan

Tag: Talen Lavellan

Page Link: Talen Lavellan

Tag: Tana Writes

Tag: Tana Blogs

(Tragically, the links to different tags don't work on the separate pages and I can't edit them, as it causes tumblr dot come to realize that the type of code I'm using isn't one they like these days. Will I fix it one day? MAYBE. For now, you can use these links to navigate as needed)

[sapphodera]

No one asked for it but here is my Inquisitor’s family tree! Details/explanation under the cut

Talen looks much younger than Hallana because he died at 30ish and Hallana is 50ish

Talen looks much younger than Hallana because he died at 30ish and Hallana is 50ish

The siblings are ordered from youngest (Ghilana) to oldest (Dirthera)

Elori was conceived the night before the final battle with Corypheus, making her about 1 and a half years old by Tresspasser

(Also depending on the events of DA4 I might retcon Elori)

Ghilana and Somniar are both married, but I didn’t include their spouses bc neither of them have children and then this whole thing would be too complicated

[veshialles]

So @rogue-lavellan pointed me in the direction of this awesome website that you can use to compare the heights of different characters. Which is awesome if you’re like me and are crap when it comes to visualizing height! Wow, I barely have any characters who pass the 6ft marker, and I am only just noticing this.

Here’s how some of my OCs compare, from Fallout, Dragon Age, Elder Scrolls, and Star Trek Online.

I’m curious to see how this’ll turn out for other people so I’ll tag @helenaamell @ariejul @thescaryreporter @southernstar-s @mojavia @life-is-no-sugarlicking @radbeetle @chibikinesis @ceilingcow @senpaishlong @cherry-pixels @charomiami @catastrotaffy @ryu-no-joou @nuka-nuke @vorchagirl and anybody else who sees this and also thinks it’s a neat idea. But like, you’re by no means obligated to do this if you don’t want to, it’s just for fun!!

[yetanotherlesbianonthiswebsite]

DA-tober 4: Home

Amaris Lavellan is an OC by my amazing and brilliant partner @dalishious and I am grateful and honored to be allowed to write about the OC in this fandom I love the most.

-

Sometime in Summer of 9:34

The Circle had always insisted that there was no world outside the walls, that everything of meaning was contained within it’s tall, cold, grey stone halls. Imerati deeply loved learning that this was the opposite of true, every day anew. Listening to Amaris’ equally beautiful voice and thoughts was one of those instances where the horizon of the world Imerati could imagine broadened with every finished sentence.

Amaris spoke so lovingly and caringly about her brother, Talen. While the Elvish spoken by Clan Lavellan was devoid of a grammatical gender, there was not a single doubt in Amaris’ descriptions regarding Talen’s masculinity. Talen was as much hanalen-ma as Imerati was, and yet Amaris seemed to reject any notion that this limited his masculinity. Imerati wondered how different her life might have been, had she known earlier how normal hanalen-ma people were among the Dalish.

“But I do not wish to bore you with ranting on for so long. Tell me, do you have a home?”

“Amaris, you couldn’t bore me even if you tried, I treasure your thoughts and ways of interacting with the world so much. As for a home, no, never really.” Despite Amaris looking somewhere into the distance, Imerati knew she was listening. The Circle had taught her strictly to keep eye contact with those she was speaking to, yet to avoid eye contact when approaching an angry superior. Amaris seemed not to care about the arbitrary rules humans set out for interactions, and Imerati found that quite relaxing. Though she did not mind looking at and into Amaris’ magnificent yellow amber eyes, for that matter.

“What do you mean by ‘never really’?”

“I have places to sometimes stay at for a couple of weeks or maybe months, but none of them feel like a home. I am where I am needed, there are in many places many fires to put out and even more to set. I sleep in tents, carriages, boat cabins, palaces, shacks, whatever is available; and I do not carry more with me than what fits in a couple of boxes. I don’t have a place I can call home, not for long.”

“It seems you have misunderstood, I was referring to people-home, not building-home.”

Elvish had many meanings for the word the Trade Tongue primarily translated as ‘home’. People-home was the closest unit of a community. The Trade Tongue could translate people-home as ‘family’.

“Oh. No, I don’t have a family. My birth-father died when I was one, my birth-mother when I was two. A friend of the two, a human woman, took me in, as my birth-parents had designated her as my godmother in case of their death. But her cruel new husband treated her so unwell that she developed a paranoia and a desire to fit in. When my magic manifested at the age of four, she immediately called the templars, hoping that they would know of a way to ‘fix me’. For your parents and your Clan, your gift of magic is a blessing. For my designated mother, it was an illness to be treated.”

Imerati sighed before continuing. “I had wondered ever since I left the Circle why my family had abandoned me, why the hadn’t resisted the templars. I knew since Kinloch Hold fell and documents where recovered what had happened. I have not contacted my designated mother ever, in my life. For all I know, she could be dead. For all that I care about as well. So, no, I don’t have a family, neither by blood nor by designation.”

“Your family does not need to be defined by blood or by designation. You have a choice over your relations.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Family are the close, loving, mutual relations that hold the most influence over who you are. Those kinds of connections cannot be forced, they grow, and we have a choice over which ones we tend to and which ones we cut off.”

“Hmm.” Imerati thought back to the Circle. Irving had always been going on how all mages and templars in Kinloch Hold were the closest thing to family they would ever have, an ultimately benevolent family of circumstance. There were worlds of difference between that which had been called a family in her youth and what Amaris was describing and living.

“Then… I guess Leliana is my family, in the way her boldness and precision and ability to force circumstances out of sheer will informs my own boldness in dealing with the world. Briala is my family, as the visionary pictures her words paint are the outlines of our dream dreamed together. Well, something very similar goes for Merrill, too, and my interactions with the fade will forever mirror part of her movements of magic. And I don’t think the clarity and logic with which Neimena changes the pacing of history will also inevitably have imbedded itself in my soul.”

She looked at Amaris, thinking. Imerati’s gaze jumped between the lines of Amaris’ vallaslin, the soft outline of her face, her magnificent eyes so perfectly framed by her bushy eyebrows. Amaris, who collected and upkept the stories of her people with such care and focus. Amaris, who so deeply understood what power lies within stories and histories and who tells them. Amaris, whose translations and artworks had been the key that unlocked the cage around Imerati’s heart four years ago.

Imerati shrugged to herself. Close, loving, mutual relations that held the most influence over who she was. She looked at Amaris again. “If we define family that way… I guess I hope that mine may grow sooner than later.”

My short fic for the Factions prompt

My short fic for the Hope prompt

My short fic for the Rebellion prompt

Let it be known by all that I love Lydia so much.

[dalishious]

are any of your inquisitors/wardens/hawkes trans? i love seeing trans player characters so i was just wondering!

I didn’t originally envision her as such, but I’ve come to see Dalia as non-binary (she/they)

Talen Lavellan, (who primarily exists as my canon Lavellan’s brother), is a trans man (he)

Niamh Cousland is demigender (she)

In the Origin Story novelization I’m currently slowly working on, the Surana I’m using is non-binary (they) and the Mahariel I’m using is a trans man (he)

And while they’re not Inquisitors, Wardens or Hawkes, my Journey’s End fic (which I really need to get back to) does have a few trans/NB OCs... Aurélie is a trans woman (she) and main character. Hanin, who is genderfluid (he/they/she) is a major supporting character. Minor supporting characters are Jeannine,  who is a trans woman (she), Noam, who is agender (they), and Elgar’athim, who is non-binary (ze)

[kagetsukai]

Compare Yourself to Your OC

I got tagged by @shannaraisles :D Thanks, boo! :D And I’m not doing Hannah, since that would be cheating :P

Ellana Lavellan

BASIC

Age: Older | Younger | Same

Race: Same | Different (well, we’re both white, but she’s an elf?)

Sexuality: Same | Different

PHYSICAL

Hair color: Same | Different

Hair Length: Shorter | Longer | Same

Hair Style: Same | Different

Eye color: Same | Different

Height: Taller | Shorter | Same

Weight: Less | More | Same

PERSONALITY

Introversion Levels: Higher | Lower | Same

Extroversion Levels: Higher | Lower | Same

Hogwarts House: Same | Different

Opinion of Self: Higher | Lower | Same

Other’s Perception: Same | Different

Talkativeness: More | Less | Same

BONUS! BOLD EVERYTHING THAT’S TRUE

My muse and I like the same music. | We share a talent. | We have the same hobbies. | We like the same books. | We watch the same shows. | We’re both big fans of the same thing. | We have the same favorite color. | We have the same favorite food. | We have the same job. | We have the same goals in life. | We live in the same country. | We live in the same state/province/etc.| We both live in a city/suburb/etc. | We have the same fashion sense. | Our friends are similar. | We both look for the same qualities in a love interest.

[iimmcrtalis-archive]

Biography:

     A life begins when you first take a breath, they say. You take a breath, and scream life into the world. You mark the world with your voice and then,  you slowly quiet.

  Sometimes, however, you do not make your mark till later. You didn't cry when you were born, and you aren't crying now. But the world can feel you crawling back. Clawing, etching, your name into the spine of everyone regardless if they know you are not. It is not because of who you are. But what you've done; Survived death for six months.

   This is how she came to be. No memory of who she was. That was the deal. No memories of who she had been. Only of what made her. Dying. Death. Life a new. Death would follow her, threaded through her bones. Threaded through the scar on her throat, knitting together her organs and the wound that let them spill. She would never truly be alive again.

  The snow melted. Hands bloodied. Clothes stained and torn to shreds. She was a corpse walking. Wandering. Lost. But a woman, Eludysia, found her. She spoke with confidence, like a woman that knew everything. Took her away, to the other side of the country. A Grandmother she never knew, apparently. A mentor that would help her truly deal with her magic. But first, they would have to work through how death stuck to her. Work through the questions that rose as she fell into memories of what happened reached her. But that would be years. Years of self destruction. Years that she struggled to think beyond what she had become. A heavy thing to process, until she had a heartbeat. And then she breathed. And the world shifted.

  Nearly dying again had struck fear into her chest. A flash of bleeding, bloodied, lost. A memory replaying in her head shook her to her core. Near death experiences tend to do that, of course. Make you crave life. It turned her around, guided her back to living to live instead of exist.

  She sought after knowledge, and power. Made a web of people she knew, connected over things she had interest in. Plays the role her grandmother hoped her to. Not a pawn, not truly. But as her right hand. The Heir to being a Watcher. Meant the world was her playground and she'd have to explore it at the behest of Eludysia.

So she does.

  She travels, place to place. Under the guise of it being a teaching job, or studying plants and what not. Good thing, her doctorate, covers for a lot

.Stats:

Name: Revas Ramsey Nicknames: Vas, Little Witch, Witchy Bitch. Titles: Death Seer Age: 27 Birthday:March 19th Gender: DMAB. Trans-Woman. She/Her pronouns only. Sexuality: Pansexual │ demiromantic Birthplace: Unknown. Residence: California Relatives:                 Eludysia Ramsey [ Grandmother ] (alive)                 Jacob Feldt [ Father ] ( Alive )                 Rani Feldt  [ mother ] ( Alive )                 Miriam Feldt [ sister ] ( alive )                 Jacob Feldt Jr [ brother ] ( alive )

Height: 5'2" Weight: 140lbs Character’s body build: Curved, muscular. Eye Color: Emerald green. Hair Color: Dark red. Type of hair: Very thick. Hairstyle: Usually in a long braid or high tight ponytail. Hair down will go past her calves.  Complexion and skin tone: Freckled & light brown Scars: Multiple facial scars. Deep scar across her throat. Mannerisms: Revas used to stumble a bit while she was nervous. Now she speaks very cooly, and tends to have her arms crossed; a sign of being closed off. Usual Body Posture: Warm. Usually bouncing or inviting to others. Or cold and shut off. Tattoos:

Black work wings on her back

Hebrew for Freedom on her wrist.

Galaxy sleeves.

Class/race: Witch. Half-fae.

Powers & Abilities:

MAGIC:

Offensive Magic:

Magic Attacks

Magic Combat

Power Absorption

Defensive Magic:

Force-Field Generation

Healing Magical

Energy Absorption

Miscellaneous Abilities

Elemental Manipulation

Flight

Magic Aura

Magic Detection

Magic Generation

Magical Constructs

Magical Energy Manipulation

Magically Enhanced Physiology

Personal Domain

Potion Creation - for various purposes (i.e. explosive, healing)

Shapeshifting

Spell Casting        • Spell Amplification        • Spell Creation        • Spell Destabilization        • Spell Mixture        • Spell Negation

Summoning/Banishment

Enchanting

Telekinesis

Telepathy

Teleportation

Transmutation

SEER:

Precognition:  perceive future events before they happen

Retrocognition: to discern events of the past

Death Sense: To detect who was going to die and when their death will occur, but may not be able to prevent it.

Divination: Gain insight of future events by the use of occult ritual.

Clairvoyance:  gain a direct visual information about an object, person, location or physical event through means other than the user's physical sight and allows them to act when they are unable to use their eyes and allows them to hear things at distances.    can sense/see/hear spiritual/psychic beings and other person's presence and perceive emotions, thoughts and memories of others. Some users can project themselves onto the spiritual world.

Empathic: To receive precognitive flashes of the future when exposed to extreme emotion.

Flash: To see things seconds or minutes before they happen.

Dreaming: To perceive future in dreams, whether symbolic, direct or from the perspective of another being.           • Can also alter and manipulate the dreams of others. Usually has       to be in close proximity to the other person ( same house will work best. ) 

Dream Scrying: to dream actual ongoing far-off events.

Psychic Navigation: to locate people/objects or create a mental map of an area.

Psychometry: to perceive the residual information of an object and/or person. This ability isn’t one of her major ones, thus it’s usually only when she focuses on an object/person. 

Shared Vision: to view another user of clairvoyance sight.

Visual Linking: to link one’s vision to others.

VERSES:

Teen: Tag    Takes place between the age of 14 to 18. Mostly your standard highschool au yo.

College: Tag    19 to 26. Standard college au dude. College buds. Hell ye. Watch my girl earn her doctorate.

Future: Tag   45 to whatever age. She's pretty much immortal y'all. Ngl here. So your muse future shit? Older revas time.

Inquisition Related:

    •  Companion: Post │ Tag     Left clan Lavellan at 12. Became a first for another clan. Murdered two people. Left that clan. Became a traveling Keeper. Hung out in Kirkwall for awhile. Went back to being a keeper for a while. Then ya know. Sky explodes. 

  • Advisor: Tag        Instead of a companion the Inquisitor can make her an advisor. She acts more as an ambassador for the dalish and often consults with the mages so their voices have a say in how shit goes. Shit stays relatively the same. just more stress :))

  •    Inquisitor: Post │ Tag   Sort of the same deal. But instead of just leaving for another clan bc too many mages, she used blood magic to try and keep her parents alive post a darkspawn attack. Then all the other shit happened. In Trespasser she's no longer a devotee to Mythal but to Falon'din. 

  • Grey Warden:  Post │ Page │ Codex       Tag ( awakening ) │ Tag ( da2 & dai ) │ Suledin Tag │ Rosal’nan tag   After killing two clan members, she travels Fereldan for three years. After the Blight she joins the wardens. Variants are based on the Wardens choices made by her. Or default if no choices are made.

  •   Specific Talen ( svcraficed ) Warden AU: Tag │ Shora Tag  Plucked outta the woods, half dead and injured, the Warden took her under his wing. Finding him a part of her new family, she takes the name Shora. 

  • Commander  of The Inquisition Forces AU: Tag          Based on a dire need with @desiderrium‘s Cullen to have him actually fucking not be in charge so Revas takes his place. Why is she qualified, you might ask. Well, for the same reason people say that Merrill is. She’s lead people and is trained to lead people, to command and protect her people. Also she’s like. strong as heck so. why not. 

DC: Post │ Tag     What do you do after you've been murdered but aren't dead dead? Ya get the fuck outta dodge. Except it leaves an impact. So you become a goddamn vigilante.             • Side AU: Blue Lantern verse where Revas is chosen to be a blue Lantern.

Fallout: Post │ Tag    Primarily between Fallout 3, NV & 4.       • Standard: Revas is a former Courser turned Gunner, turned Mercenary. Her age is unknown. Her Identity as a Synth even more so. She travels with Faron, a sniper.        • Other one: Instead of being a synth, she's a Psyker with seer abilities & telepathy.

Overwatch: Post │ Tag    All I know is that she died. Got really fucked up. I'm thinking Nanobots to control plants & shit ya know. We'll see I think. Just know shes dead. Dead ish. Like genji “””dead” but also Reaper dead. Cybernetic nanobot cloud of fuck you. Tho she's melee af yo.

Mass Effect Trilogy:  Post │ Tag    Still debating if Revas is gonna be a Quarian or just a Jewish woman from Earth. Who knows. Probably human bc its easier lbh. Powerful af Biotic human who's a badass merc w/ her pal Faron. Y'all catching a pattern?

Mass Effect: Andromeda: Post │ Tag   Human Biotic. Came to Andromeda because she wanted to get away from bad shit. She studied botany and agriculture so ya know early release to help with food but. She sided against the Initiative and fucked off to Kadara.

Elder Scrolls: Post │ Tag   Wood elf magic user who is sort of a cannibal and eats general kills. Because religious reasons. Stumbles into Skyrim w/ Faron bc she wants to travel and help her people everywhere.

The Raven Cycle:  Post │ Tag      Crossover with her normal verse. Revas works at Aglionby Academy as a history teacher. Her involvement in the series is up to You. 

Murder Mom:  Post  │ Tag        The verse post is Graphic. Tw for abuse ( childhood sexual abuse ), rape implied, murder, violence, death, & murder.      A Modern Conversion of her Inquisitor verse. Revas’s parents are murdered when she’s twelve. She gets taken in by an abusive family that sort of planned it all. Ends up murdered. Comes back and fucks their shit up. She’s an extremely powerful witch in this AU, as well as a CEO of her grandmothers company. She’s not afraid to kill. 

No Death: Tag     Based on this drabble. Not extremely explicit but does have mentions & implications of abuse, sexual abuse, trauma, depression, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempted, cancer, & family death.        In this AU, it’s a case of if Revas didn’t die at all. Instead of dying, her magic lashed out and killed her attackers. & she forced herself to stay alive because of hope and wanting to. Her magic sort of hit an awoken state that gave her high abilities in healing magic, usually on herself. Thus keeping her alive even when the guilt from murder got too much. In her early 20′s and late teen years, her parents passed away and she was left with her younger siblings, twin toddlers. Took a deal with a shady grandmother for money & immortality, mainly the money. & now still lives in a brownstone in New York, studying history working two jobs & trying to be a good mom for her siblings. 

TAGS

general • about • isms • face • aesthetics • abilities • ic 

[suledxn-blog]

Details

Names.

For Revas, names are simply words that she associates with. They aren’t names. Just. Words. It’s understandable that she has many names. Whether its because of a verse, or simply events that happen. Some can know her by one name, and others another. But, understandably, it can probably get confusing! Because there are a lot of names she goes by. So, this is a good list of all her names, who should know them, and when to use them!

FENRIAN - A name that she does not remember in her main verse. The only people who should know this are old Lavellan clanmates & anyone who interacts with any of her warden verses. This is pretty much a deadname. It’s not great to call her, but there are people who probably use it without knowing she has a new name now, or that she won’t respond to it. 

DA’FEN - Title more than a name. Little wolf. It’s usually used in a more gentle loving way than what its been used with regards to Revas. For her, it was something that angered people. Then it became a name that some feared. Tied to Fen’harel in its own basic nature, Dalish should be the only ones who have heard of it. Not that they would know it is her. But she does call herself by this occasionally. 

REVAS - Her name. A name she chose for herself, because a man once asked her for her name with kindness in his voice. A feat that not many had so much as tried. She calls herself Freedom. Not for her people. For herself. Free of her past, her clans. Her life is free, no matter who she chooses to serve. Later, it would be for her people. Keeper Revas. Keeper of Freedom. She who fights to free her people from not only themselves but the constraints humans have put on them. It is a name most should know, if nothing else they’ll know Revas. 

 SULEDIN - Both used in her Grey Warden verse & Post - Trespasser. Of course, in post-trespasser it’s more of a term she associates with, and will still respond to Revas. However, as a Grey Warden, it is her NAME. It is what she chooses to be referred to if you save the city & not the keep. Because, for her, overcoming death? Overcoming the blight? It’s her enduring death. It’s her enduring the pain of the blight, to carry on and have a purpose bigger than herself. It’s a statement that she will continue to endure all life throws at her.         Anyone who knows her through this ending of the Grey Warden verse would know her by this name. Only the wardens of Awakening would know her name previously. 

ROSAL’NAN - Another name in her Grey Warden verse. Of course this name is for the other outcome of Awakening. Should you choose to save the Keep, she chooses this name. Not for herself. For the elves that died in the city. For the elves the blight has taken. She calls herself an enduring vengeance, against the darkspawn that killed her people.            Anyone who knows her through this ending of the Grey Warden verse would know her by this name. Only the wardens of Awakening would know her name previously.

SHORA - Not a name that (for now) pertains to anyone outside @svcrificed tbh. But, still one that will show up on my blog a bunch! After the Blight’s dealt with, Fereldan saved, and she officially joins the Grey Wardens, Fenrian chooses a new name; Shora;  she who is happiest on the journey. While the world may be a hell pit, and being a Grey Warden can be its own unrewarding hell, she’s come a long way from some First in a shitty clan. Her new found brother, Talen, makes the journey one of happiness. And while she may be tempted to trade it for a vast amount of gold, she probably wouldn’t unless Talen came too.

ILVIN - Again, for now, only used w/ Talen. After the final battle, amongst her friends and allies, she finds her brother has given his life to end the blight. The kiss on her forehead the night before, kind words his last to her. It crushes her. And, from that moment she calls herself, Ilvin; A worthy sacrifice. With his warden’s oath around her neck, she joins the grey wardens to honor his memory. Even if he would have yelled at her for it. 

Eventually I’ll make a post about her other names, various titles and the like. Mainly because the lengths to which Revas has gone through to actually get to where she is deserves its own damn post. I’ll also make one for other fandom Au’s bc that’ll be important one day.

[peldragora]

I REALLY LOVE MY DRAGON AGE OCS OKAY??!

[openthepocketwatch]

3 or 15 for Evelyn!!

15. a letter to your OC from a companion they haven’t seen in a while

A piece of parchment in a Lavellan aravel. It was once tied with twine and tightly furled but now is almost flat. There is charcoal and soot on the edges of the paper, seemingly from the hands of the reader.

Evelyn,            Think of my surprise when I arrive in Starkhaven and the first name I hear from off a noble’s lips is yours. It seems you now have a reputation. After you and Virion’s last campaign, the smithy social circles seem to have talked quite a bit about your work. And from what I know about smithy social circles, it seems good. I don’t want you being too smug, but there was an offer from one of the nobles Virion visited. Virion is sure it means good things for the clan. I’ll be keeping an eye out, like usual. Clan Lavellan doesn’t need too much attention on it. But if we had to get attention for something, I’m glad it was your skills at making beautiful and entirely too deadly weapons.                 I’m sure you’ve already gotten it out of the Keeper, that I’m headed off to Sundermount. Istimaethoriel wants to take advantage of our relation with Sabrae, and…. I know, I know. You hate when I’ve been gone this long. I’ll try my best to get back before Harvestmere. I can hear you now, you’re protesting that I always say that, but this time it’s true. I haven’t seen you in far too long, lethallin.                I’m doing well. Virion sends his love. I can only image how mad you are to be cooped up at camp while we’re away. I’ll make up for it when we’re back. You know I’ll only hiking with you now under the most dire of circumstances, but getting you away from the forge is one of them.               I know Virion’s only supposed to pass on ‘official correspondence,’ but frankly, I don’t give a damn. I hope you like my gift. I found it in one of the smithys, one who spoke highly of you. A bit of adamantum, he said. All I knew is that it would be perfect for you.             Stay safe, lethallin, and hang on. Talen

[openthepocketwatch]

Here's to the day, and these beautiful kids.

rowed him softer home

A little early friendship piece for @openthepocketwatch, featuring the first of many glorious Heart’s Days and epic friendship letters that Evelyn and Talen share over the years. This is partially a Valentine’s thing, because I am all about the feelings, but also a birthday thing for Hayley and also a friendship-versary thing.

Hayley, this is a very small token of my affection and appreciation. I could write you a million novels and not even come close to expression my gratitude for your friendship: as I so often like to say, you’re an incredible human being with an incredible future (and an incredible present!). Thank you for continuing to be a beacon of generosity, of kindness and goodness, in my life. You deserve all of the best and brightest things this world has to offer, and I can’t wait to see where this next year takes you.

So happy birthday, you, and Happy Heart’s Day! <3 <3 <3

(Also wow Talen is a sadsack teenager with a lot of feelings he doens’t know how to process! Thankfully he has Evelyn to set him back on track, mostly by getting up to mischief. I mean – adventuring!)

rowed him softer home

And he unrolled his feathers And rowed him softer home Than oars divide the ocean (A Bird Came Down the Walk, Emily Dickinson)

She catches him off guard.

That doesn’t usually happen. Evelyn, for all she itches against the same constraints that leave Talen withdrawn and silent, is bright: a furious comet streaking through the sky, flaring against the winds despite herself. Which means that, even within the few months of their friendship, he can see her coming miles away, whatever plan she’s hatching, whatever small rebellion she intends, whatever innocent conversation that nonetheless leaves Talen dropping secrets like coins through clumsy fingers.

She’d make an awful thief if she were actually stealing coins and not his secrets, he thinks the first time she drags him along on one of her madcap schemes. Her eyes glint with mischief; her fingers twitch; she keeps tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, biting at the edges of her lips to keep a smile from spilling out.

Keep reading

[sapphodera]

Full Name: Somniar Revas Lavellan

Nickname(s): Som (only her family calls her this), Willow (via Varric)

Status: Alive, living in ???

Age: 25 (as of 9:41 dragon)

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Lesbian

Class: Rogue

Specialization: Assassin

Birthday: 25th Haring

Height: 5’8

Species: Elf

Appearance: Somniar is tall and skinny, hence Varric’s nickname. She obviously has Andruil’s vallaslin on her face, but it is also on some parts of her body as well. She has long, dark brown hair that is usually in a ponytail with a braid on the sides. Her eyes are hazel colored.

Background: Somniar grew up in clan Sabre along with Mahariel and Merrill. Her father was killed when she was 5, her sister Dirthera 10, and her sister Ghilana only a few weeks old. Other than that, her childhood was mostly happy. When the clan came to Sundermount and Merrill joined up with Hawke, Somniar spoke to them when they visited. Because of this she became aquatinted with Hawke and Varric. When Marethari died, the clan blamed Merrill for it. Somniar and her mother and sisters were the only ones that refused to fight Merrill. Because of this they survived the attack and Hawke helped them leave Sundermount. Eventually they found the Lavellan clan and they joined them.

Likes/Dislikes: Growing up in a Dalish clan, Somniar did not have much luxury. So when she has access to basically anything she wants as Inquisitor she goes all out. She likes hot baths, tea, Orlesian pastries, books, silk, and expensive bedding. She enjoys nature and peace and quiet. She dislikes Orlesians, politics, humans, Templars, and the Chantry.

Fears: Somniar’s loved ones are very important to her. After losing her father and Wyn she doesn’t want to lose anyone else. She also fears failing as Inquisitor and disappointing her people.

Love Interest(s): Wyn (a girl from her clan, deceased), Briala (they get married during Tresspasser)

Family: Talen (father, deceased), Hallana (mother), Dirthera (older sister), Ghilana (younger sister)

Decisions made: Allied with the mages, left Stroud in the fade, Wardens given a second chance, Briala rules Orlais, and technically she drank from the well but in my canon it was her sister.

Personality: Somniar is a quiet, introverted person. She prefers to listen and observe. Generally, she is kind and polite. Most people think nothing of her, but those that know her well think she is clever, independent, and hardworking.

Beliefs: Somniar obviously respects the Dalish and trusts them. She helps them in any way she can. She does the same with city elves but is less familiar with them. She also believes that the mages should be free but is very naive to how bad the circles actually are. The Qun scares her a bit, as she saw what they did in Kirkwall, but the Qunari species is fine. She is very wary of humans and it takes a while for her to become friends with one.

Religion: Dalish

Friends: Somniar’s sisters are her closest confidants. Her friends in the Inquisition include Josephine, Leliana, Blackwall, and Varric, and eventually Sera, Dorian, Vivienne and Cassandra.

Rivals: So in my personal canon, Samson is the advisor and not Cullen, so she hates Samson at first but eventually they come around to being friendly with each other. She also hates Solas at first but when he starts dating Dirthera she comes around, and then he breaks up with and turns out he’s an evil god so she goes right back to hating him. Also she doesn’t dislike Cole but he freaks her out so she doesn’t spend much time with him.

What happened to them after the game ended: After Inquisition Somniar continued to stay in Skyhold but she frequently visited her clan. She mostly went around doing the same Inquisitor-ly as before. She also continued her relationship with Briala and during Trespasser they got married in secret. Only after her arm was cut off and she was sure she wasn’t going to die they had a real wedding with her clan. She also gets a fancy prosthetic from Dagna.

[dalishious]

Other than your player characters, do you have any other OCs in your personal Dragon Age canon? Just curious.

Not sure if this counts because he was a PC my brother actually made then I kind of stole LOL–but Talen Lavellan is my canon Lavellan’s adopted little bro.

And while the fic doesn’t take place in my ‘canon worldstate’ but rather my ‘secondary canon worldstate,’ there are the made up characters in my Journey’s End fic, namely Ethena and Aurélie. (And though while only a side character, I am also very fond of Hanin and Mina.)

[mstigergun]

OC Kiss Week, “the hope which cannot part”

OC Kiss Week, Day Seven (a goodbye kiss). I’m going to keep my commentary minimal, save to say this is set in Letters-verse and is a variation on a 5 times/1 time structure. [~2300]

the hope which cannot part

Farewell to thee! but not farewell To all my fondest thoughts of thee: Within my heart they still shall dwell; And they shall cheer and comfort me.

Adieu, but let me cherish, still, The hope with which I cannot part. Contempt may wound, and coldness chill, But still it lingers in my heart.

(from Anne Bronte’s “Farewell”)

i

“Be careful,” Asharil says, her fingers digging indents into his arms. She presses a hard kiss to his cheek, drawing back to look him straight in the eye. Her stare is golden, molten, unflinching. A demand, one that permits with no room for half-measure. “Stay with the others. Don’t go wandering off. There are wolves in these woods, and too many shems keen on seeing us harmed.”

“I know,” Talen says, throat tight. He blinks up at his sister, whose skin is washed pale and whose lips are a tight line of worry.

He hadn’t been scared of going on this hunt, before. Not really. But now –

Darkness whispers at the edge of his thoughts. They’ve lost others. He’s heard a hundred tales, stories the children tell each other, or things the adults murmur when they think none of the young ones are listening.

He hears. He knows.

Talen swallows. He presses up on his toes, planting a kiss against his sister’s cheek – an echo of the one he can still feel against his own skin. “I’ll be careful, I promise. Ar lath ma, Asharil. When I come home, I’ll be a better help to the Clan.”

And when he does come back, blood grimy beneath his fingernails and his heart still hammering with that strange tangle of joy and horror, nothing is ever quite the same. But Asharil’s delighted exclamation – one he hears from across the camp the moment he steps past the ring of aravels – is enough to soothe any darkness hiding in his mind.

ii

He kisses her forehead, right there by the fire.

Asharil’s stare flashes up, her hands stilling, though still the threads are tangled around her fingers. “What’s that for?”

For saying goodbye without words, he thinks. For you waking up tomorrow to an empty aravel. For how your heart will hurt.

Instead, Talens shrugs. “You look tired,” he offers, dropping onto the ground next to her.

She snorts. “And since when have you cared about that?”

She is, of course, right. A less selfish boy wouldn’t have his bags packed already. A less selfish boy would think of his sister.

But instead he tilts his head against her shoulder, drinking in this small, final comfort. Trying to allow himself to feel this – the guilt – and not that bright, beckoning excitement at the road before him. He should not be giddy with anticipation. He should be sick with regret already. “Of course I care,” he murmurs.

Asharil’s fingers again begin working the threads. Her chin tilts, her mouth grazing his temple, the line of his hair. A brief and fleeting touch, barely a kiss. “If you care,” she intones, leaning away again, “then you can help me with this weaving, da’len.”

iii

“You’re not terribly clever, little shadow, are you?”

Talen’s hunched over, his body a broken line arcing downward, knuckles white from how hard he’s gripping the table beneath him. It’s a miracle he wriggled out of his shirt without passing out, when he can hardly draw breath for the flare of pain in his ribs. When tears prickle, sharp and hot, in his eyes whenever Shira prods his skin, indelicate.

“They jumped me,” Talen hisses, breath hitching. “I couldn’t – There’s nothing –”

The words close off, his throat a vise that cannot be opened.

“Any one of the kids could’ve told you to stay away from Black Boot territory. They’re nasty bastards, always thinking we’re edging in on their shit territory. As if,” with a firm tug as she pulls the bandage into place.

Talen sucks in a startled gasp, dark patches blossoming before his eyes. He squeezes his eyelids shut, clamps his mouth into a line he hopes will firmly in place. Nostrils flaring, fingers squeezing at the table so hard, he’s surprised it doesn’t splinter.

“As if,” Shira continues, standing and brushing dust from her knees, “we’d want their blighted streets. You ever seen a mark worth snaring in West Stave? Of course not.”

But he can’t respond, too dizzy with the furious pain, the memory of the interaction – fists to his ribs, cutting words sharp in the air – too present behind his eyelids.

The warm and steadying weight of Shira’s hand on his shoulder. Patting him, meant to be reassuring. “You’ll be fine,” Shira says. “Just… be sensible. No crawling up gutters or skittering across rooftops this week, alright? Anyway.” The weight disappears. “I’ve got a thief lord to have a word or two with. That fucker doesn’t beat up one of my kids and saunter away without at a least a broken nose.”

His eyes flash open. “You don’t have to –”

Shira snorts. Her narrow body is a blade in the dim space between them. Primed for violence, hungry for it.. “Of course I do,” she drawls. “Can’t seem soft now, can I? You just stay here and stay safe, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

His ribs ache with the next breath, and it has nothing, this time, to do with the bruises pressed hard into his skin. “Ma serannas,” Talen murmurs, and he edges off the table and – before she can squirm away, or glare at him, or be more cross than she already is – he pushes himself up and kisses her cheek. A bare touch.

“Don’t you start with that,” she says. But still Shira drops a firm kiss right to the top of his head, her nose wrinkling even as she leans away. “And go have a bath. You still smell like blood, and this place is bad enough already.”

He watches her go, slouching her way from their warehouse, her shoulders tense with a barely reigned-in anger that will see Talen’s injuries avenged in some way. And though his body is one long, vicious ache –

Well. He sleeps very easily that night indeed.

iv

“I have to go,” he says.

Shira’s arms are all elbows, folded that hard across her chest. Sharp as blades. Ready to cut. “Right,” she says, curt. “Sure.”

His fingers curl against his palms, cut crescents into his palm. Still, he tries to breathe as evenly as he might. As steady as she taught him, even though he can feel Asharil’s distant gaze on him, like coals against his skin. “Thank you,” Talen says, his voice distant to even his own ears. “For everything. I’ll come visit when I can.”

And, because he’s saying goodbye, he steps in to kiss her cheek. The moment his lips touch her dark skin, Shira jerks back, as if she’s been burned. Her eyes blaze with a furious light, like forest fires in the distance, like pyres on the water. “Is she making you go? We can protect you, little shadow. You don’t need to do a blighted thing you don’t want to. Fuck the Dalish – if you want to stay –”

“I want to go.”

They’re quiet words, but they find their mark. Shira falls to an unfamiliar silence. He can see her chewing on the inside of her cheek, teeth sawing it to blood. Then, “Alright, whatever.” She sniffs, shrugging, her stare as tightly shuttered as their warehouse in the winter months. “If it’s what you want. We’ll see you when we see you.”

She leans down, places a dry, papery kiss on his forehead, and then turns and disappears into the crowd beyond. It’s not until they’re well outside of Ansburg, and his sister has been asleep for hours, that he finally allows the carefully contained tears to fall, to strike soft notes against the blankets pooled around him.

v

“I’m going,” he says, ducking beneath the low tent where his friend is secreted away. Evelyn looks up from the book she’s got unfolded in her lap, something one of their traders picked up for her when last passing through a village. And while Talen and Evelyn had amused themselves for hours reading the most offensive passages aloud – about the savage ways of the Dalish, their obscure blood rites and wild, ritualistic bacchanals – its the later passages on lost temples and artefacts that have caught Evelyn’s unfaltering attention.

Talen doesn’t see much point to trying to uncover pieces of an empire long since fallen to dust. But if Evelyn’s enamoured, he’ll bite his tongue.

“Do you know for how long?” she asks, placing a dried leaf between the pages and closing her tome. She unfolds her legs, standing and stretching. He’s still not used to seeing her with her vallaslin, but its suits her, he thinks distantly. More than it’s ever suited him.

He shrugs, leaning over to press a thoughtless kiss to her forehead. “I can’t say. The Keeper wants me to make contact with an Antivan clan with some obscure connection to a few of our hunters. We haven’t heard from them in years, so it may take me some time.”

Evelyn tucks her arms around his ribs, squeezing him into a tight, quick embrace. “Well,” she says, her mouth brushing his cheek, “If you end up near Antiva City, could you visit a book merchant? There’s this one book – it keeps getting referenced –”

And her hands have plunged down and picked up her book again. Evelyn rifles through the pages, in pursuit of the title in question. Talen huffs out a little laugh and leans against a tentpole, waiting.

He’ll have many hours alone on the road between the Marches and Antiva. His friend’s company, her enthusiasm and warmth, are worth waiting for.

vi

Virion’s mouth falls against his forehead, and Talen is certain he’ll be sick. “No,” he says, jerking away, and he’s not even sure how he manages to breathe the word out – not when his throat is this tight, when his hands shake so very badly, when his stomach has become a black knot of nausea. “I’m coming with you.”

Virion is as pale as dawn on a gray winter day. His hands, Talen knows, are just as cold, fingers stiff. At his side, Virion’s palm pulses a nauseating green as he steps backward. “We can’t know what’s on the other side,” he says, firm. “I won’t see you put in harm’s way, vhenan.” Another step, building an empty, frigid space between them. One meant to keep Talen safe, but –

“I’m not saying goodbye,” Talen insists, and even he can hear the wild edge to his voice. He can barely breathe, heart beating itself bloody against his chest, into a ragged, pulpy mess. “I’m not letting you do this alone, not when –”

He goes to step forward, to move closer, but Virion’s hand flashes forward, a flag in the air between them. “Don’t,” he grinds out. “Just – I have to do this, and I can’t if I’m worried about you. You must stay, Talen.”

Stay, he thinks. Stay, when this might be the end. There are no words.

Talen’s hands curl uselessly at his sides. He can’t fix this, he knows that, hasn’t been able to do a thing beyond look over Virion’s shoulder for him, beyond loving him desperately and beyond any possible measure, even as they fight their way toward darker and darker conclusions. Even as the Anchor roars to furious life, ready to devour Virion. Ready to devour all of them, to glut itself on the destruction of the entire world, all that they know and love.

“I’m going,” Virion says, and though he’s pale, he straights – impossibly noble, impossibly composed, when all Talen can feel is a razor-edged panic. He draws back further, pulling his hand close to his chest, cradling it. “And either I will die or I will live, and if it’s to be the former, vhenan, I will not take you with me. I refuse.”

There are tears, Talen knows, gathering in his eyes: as hot and furious as a brand. Marking him. Again, he shakes his head. “Virion,” he pleads, once more stepping forward. It can’t end like this, and if it is to end –

Say what Virion will, Talen refuses to live in a world in which this is their reality. In which Virion doesn’t step back through that mirror, and if his vhenan even thinks for a moment that he’ll face down the wolf alone, then he has made a mistake. It will not happen. Talen will not allow it.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.” Virion’s stare is soft, pale. Another step backwards, his mouth tight with pain. “I must go now. Cassandra –”

And before Talen can leap forward as Virion turns and disappears into the mirror, hands – strong and familiar and traitorous – reach out and clasp him. He is all fury, all wild desperation, surging forward against the bounds that keep him here, his throat open in a savage scream as he throws himself after Virion despite Cassandra’s grip.

And then, then he is nothing at all – the cool hiss of magic, the sound of a potion being opened, the irresistible pull of unconsciousness. Darkness and emptiness, familiar friends.

I will not say goodbye, his last thought. Then nothing.

(vii)

You’re awake, he murmurs, shifting in bed. The pool of blankets, soft and sumptuous, rustle around them as he slides upwards, leaning nearer. Needing to be close.

Virion’s forehead creases, some distant echo of pain. So it would appear. Then, his eyes opening, his gray gaze stretching upwards, And alive! What a lovely surprise.

Talen huffs, brushing his hand against Virion’s soft hair. I told you I wouldn’t say goodbye, he says, words soft and fragile. Feathers in the air between them, against the dim light of dawn beyond. So hello, vhenan.

And the kiss that follows – tremulous and gentle and certain, all at once, Talen’s fingers tracing the lines of Virion’s face as he folds himself, delicate as a shadow, against his lover – makes all the world right again. As simple as that: as coming home, as breathing, as his heart beating.

Aneth ara, Virion breathes against him, reaching to thread his fingers through Talen’s hair.

Their place, together. A hello worth a thousand goodbyes.

[dalishious]

OC Info Tag - Amaris

I was tagged by @fuckbioware :P and whoever sees this and wants to do it can consider themselves tagged by me

Amaris Lavellan

BASICS

Full name: Amaris Lavellan Gender: Female Sexuality: Ace Pronouns: She/Her Family: Atisha Lavellan (mother), Mirassal Lavellan (father), Elnora Lavellan (grandmother), Darvas Lavellan (grandfather), Talen Lavellan (adopted brother)

OTHER

Birthplace: At the end of the Minanter River between Ansburg and Markham Job(s): Inquisitor Phobias: Spiders, crowds Guilty pleasures: Pretending to not speak Common to avoid having to talk to people, winning arguments, wearing her pyjamas all day Hobbies: Reading, writing, collecting bottles and obsessively caring for said bottle collection

MORALS

Morality alignment: Neutral Good Bad qualities: Insecure, emotional, reclusive Good qualities: Dedicated, curious, optimistic

THIS OR THAT?

introvert / extrovert / a bit of both [EXTREMELY introverted] organized / disorganized close-minded / open-minded calm / anxious / restless disagreeable / agreeable / in between cautious / reckless / in between patient / impatient outspoken / reserved leader / follower / flexible empathetic / unempathetic optimistic / pessimistic / realistic traditional / modern / in between hard-working / lazy / unmotivated

RELATIONSHIPS

OTP: Solas OT3: N/A BroTP: Cole, Blackwall NOTP: Cullen, Morrigan

[dalishious]

Has Amaris ever dated someone before Solas? And does she ever find happiness after Solas?

Amaris was a very solitary child. She always found it difficult to play with the other children her age, and preferred the company of her grandparents, books, and her own imagination. There were, however, two exemptions to this:

The first being her brother, Talen. When she was ten, her parents adopted a young boy when his parents fled from the city, but did not make it themselves. She was a very mother-like big sister, and there isn’t anyone she misses more than him, when away from her clan as Inquisitor.

The second came into being after she discovered her magic, at age twelve. For a long time, Clan Lavellan was known as having no magic. It was always necessary to adopt mages from other clans, as none were born from their own. When Amaris’ magic was discovered, to none of the clan’s surprise, the Keeper immediately announced her as First... demoting the current studying First to Second, and the current studying Second to Third. While the Second held some resentment towards her, (which she could not blame him,) the Third, Telmala, cared not.Amaris felt it a lot easier to get along with the other two young mages of her clan, as there was always something to talk about in regards to the magic and history they studied. Much of their apprenticeship saw them doing so together, (although she still always preferred to be by herself, and often continued her readings on her own time, alone.) She and Telmala connected in particular, and the two young girls did develop romantic feelings for each other. This was an unspoken thing that just happened naturally over time. They “dated” in that awkward teenage sense.Unfortunately, when Amaris was sixteen and Telmala was seventeen, at the Arlathvhen, Telmala was sent to another clan in need of a mage. Telmala didn’t want to go, not only because this was the third clan she would move to, but because it meant the feasible end of her relationship with Amaris, who was also very heartbroken, and remained that way for some time.*

Amaris never had any relationship between Telmala and Solas, nor did she want to. After getting her vallaslin, there was an extreme pressure put on her to bond with a man from the clan and have children, in order to pass down her magic. (Guess what this is an allegory for.) Men would share their interest in her, and she would turn them down. Amaris knew it was not her they were interested in, but rather her magic, and the idea that their child might have magic. More than that, she very much did not want to bare a child.

And as far as after Solas goes... She is still hung up on the jerk, and is in a little bit of denial over the whole thing. She is thoroughly convinced she can stop him from doing so, but whether that’ll happen or not, I guess we’ll have to see.

*Sidenote with Talmala: I like to think that at the next Arlathvhen in 9:37, they met up again, and with many tears, even contemplated running away together. But couldn’t abandon their clans.