#the elf one is actually my character for dragon age origins i am currently sort of playing!

[ginkovskij]

characters i drew for games that i didn’t play (:

[fantasywr1te]

✱ ⋆ ࿔ 𓂃 ࣪ORIGINAL CHARACTER FANTASY MULTIMUSE

This  is  a mutuals only fantasy writing blog inspired by Dungeons & Dragons, Baldur's Gate 3, Dragon's Age and other various fantasy media. You may recognize some of these characters from my old/archived blogs such as @asangel-arch , @h3llslinger-archive , @slaycults-archive , @fatewr1te & @f8weaver. This blog will  include  suggestive content,  explicit content,  and  battle scenes - please  do  not  interact  if  you  or  your  character  are  under  the  age  of 18. Please note for romantic or sexual interactions I require both muses and muns to be 20 or older since I am 26.

✱ [ open starters ] - [ meme/prompt tag ] ✱

✱ ⋆ ࿔ 𓂃 THE CHARACTERS

CURRENT MUSE TOTAL: 13 For ease of navigation, characters have been placed into categories inspired by the meanings of various tarot cards. Each tarot card aligns with either a character's backstory, personality, or both. Click on character NAMES to read more (this is currently a w.i.p).

FULL MUSE LIST & RULES UNDER THE CUT!

THE WORLD

Reflect upon your journey and all that you have learned, how has it changed you? Celebrate the journey and if you’re not quite finished -- the end will come very soon ✱ Akaneth, he/him (cis), looks to be over 35 (actually thousands of years old), shapeshifting wrath demon who primarily wears an angel's face to get his enemies to drop their guard. Barbarian & fighter. ✱ Azariel Skywalker, he/him (trans), looks to be over 30 (actually thousands of years old), demigod of Ilmater who often feels pressured to follow in his father's selfless footsteps. Barbarian/paladin.

THE HIGH PRIESTESS

Trust your inner wisdom/intuition to conquer doubts & fears. ✱ Alden Warman, he/him (trans), 30s, cursed elf/hexblood, only child of infamous warlords. Not a dark urge oc, although often mistaken for one. Fighter & ranger. ✱ Kenichi Shirahama, he/him (trans), looks to be in his 30s (actually age thousands of years old), half-elf (and demigod), first son of the god of murder, resist!the dark urge oc/dnd oc. Fighter & rogue.

THE TOWER

This card represents a sudden occurrence that will shock us. Essentially, something going wrong that we didn’t prepare for, and this has a major impact on us. ✱ Zahari, he/him (trans), looks to be around 30 years old (actually 300), demigod & cleric of Lathander. Fiends, monsters, and mortals alike yearn to drink his blood, blood rumored to be golden and able to grant the drinker immunity to death and disease. Cleric & fighter. ✱ Zeal, he/they (trans), 28, undead tiefling warlock & carnival entertainer. He has a pact to and owes his undead life to an ancient and mysterious undead entity that often acts as an adoptive father of sorts. Originally portrayed as a Wild Beyond Witchlight character, rewritten to fit most fantasy settings. Warlock & rogue. ✱ Zelene, he/him (cis), looks to be over 35 (actually thousands of years old), cursed tiefling turned living weapon. Former wizard, now a living weapon (can shapeshift between humanoid & blade form).

THE MAGICIAN

This card symbolizes that you have all the tools at your disposal to make a decision or start something new, taking inspired action. ✱ Patchwork Jack, he/they (trans), 30, cursed changeling & gunslinger/outlaw, designed for fantasy-western settings but can be edited to fit general fantasy settings. Gunslinger wizard & gunslinger fighter. ✱ Vi'haan Talderesh, he/him (trans), late 30s, disowned son of renowned sorcerer family turned extremely talented wizard. School of conjuration wizard.

THE HANGED MAN

This card signifies a fresh start and a break free from whatever came before. ✱ Aslan Ashcroft, he/him (trans), late 30s/early 40s in appearance (actually hundreds of years old). Undead human. Human mage (sorcerer & warlock -- he has a warlock pact with a vampire, actually) who was killed because idiotic townsfolk thought he was a vampire-witch (in reality he was merely a mage who was friends with vampires. He's still human, although technically undead -- he's kept alive/immortal by the ancient vampiric blood magic ingrained into his very skin. ✱ Melkor (last name kept private), he/him (trans man), middle aged in appearance (actually 500+ years old), former drow noblewoman turned exiled 'traitor'. Is wanted in the underdark for killing his former fiancé and multiple heads of households. Hopes to one day return to the underdark and change or eliminate the darker/more problematic aspects of drow culture & politics.

WHEEL OF FORTUNE

This card represents the idea that we have reached a turning point in our lives, that something might suddenly, and unexpectedly, change but that it is an invitation for you to welcome change. ✱ Viorel, he/him (cis), looks to be in his 30s, twin to Vithyra, cleric of Myrkul whose mind and soul was corrupted by the decaying touch of his chosen deity. Attempted to kill his brother to earn his god's approval and be named High Priest of the Church of Myrukl (this character is a canon-divergent take on the Forgotten Realms god Myrkul & his followers). Fits the wolf in sheep clothing trope. ✱ Vithyra, he/him (trans), looks to be in his 30s, twin to Viorel, twin to VIorel, wizard turned cleric -- took up an oath to Lathander. He gives both his lifea nd soul to the god of spring and renewal in the hopes he might be able to undo the damage done to his twin by Myrukl.

✱ ⋆ ࿔ 𓂃 THE RULES (READ UNDER THE CUT/SWORD)

✱ ⋆ ࿔ 𓂃 RULES

▍ ❝   MUTUALS ONLY. If I want to interact with you in any way I will follow you back.. If I don't follow you back within 4 weeks it means I don't want to interact. If you continue to follow me after those 4 weeks I reserve the right to hard block you.Please note my blog is 18+ for general interactions and 21+ for romantic and/or sexually explicit rp threads

.▍ ❝  MINORS DNI. My blog contains material not suitable for minors such as fantasy typical violence/blood and sexually suggestive (or explicit) content. My blog is 18+ for general interactions and 21+ for romantic and/or sexually explicit rp threads. Minors who try to interact with me will be hard blocked.

▍ ❝  GENERAL DNI LIST.* DNI IF YOU ARE A PERSONAL BLOG/NON RP BLOG. If your rp blogs are a sideblog state it clearly in your main blog's bio or I will block you!* Harry Potter (even if you are anti-JKR. The HP fandom/RPC in general makes me uncomfortable.* If your muse(s) are for shows/books/games meant primarily for kids younger than 13 (ex: Bluey, Pokemon, Sonic the Hedgehog, pretty much any Disney cartoon, etc.)* If your muse(s) are from adult style cartoons (ex: Archer, Hazbin Hotel, Family Guy, etc.)

▍ ❝ RP ETIQUETTE.

I don't support call out culture. If someone is an issue you can use the report and blocking tools. You also can handle the issue privately/without making a spectacle of it. You are also welcome to reach out to me via DMs if you have concerns about a user I am interacting with.

 I'm autistic and have social anxiety. Because of this I struggle with ooc chatter and tend to prefer rp memes to get threads going (versus plotting). I'm open to plotting but need some prompts/questions to get going. Reaching out to me with question ssuch as "what sort of dynamic do you think they'd have?" or "what are some rp tropes you enjoy?" will get you a better response from me than a vague message such as "let's plot"

I have a full time job and live on a farm. I also frequently babysit my niece and nephew (both of them are under 5 years old). Because of this, my reply lengths and speed will vary. Do not follow me if this is a problem for you. Also do not follow me if you look down on people who don't always have the energy to write novella style replies and/or people who can't reply multiple times a day.

Favoritism: I do not have it. I tend to reply to short threads during the work week when I have less energy and long threads on the weekend when I have more energy. I also have friends on here who I write with a lot/have hashed out character dynamics through DMs so I write with them often. Not everything is about you and just because I take a little while to reply to you DOESN'T mean I hate to you. If you easily get jealous of other writers DNI.

I often struggle to understand social cues, especially digital social cues. I especially find soft blocking vs tumblr glitching out hard to determine. Because of this I AM NOT SOFTBLOCK FRIENDLY!!

FYI: I tend to block personal/non-rp blogs, minors, people who haven't interacted with me much after multiple attempts of me reaching out, people who ignore my DNI info, people who are inactive a long time without warning, blogs who have an overwhelming number of muses, people who I feel like I just don't mesh well with, etc.

▍ ❝  RULES (short version)

18+ for general interactions, 21+ for nsfw interactions (dni if you are a minor)

* I use the block button frequently. If you don't want to interact with me you're more than welcome to block me in turn.

* don't be a bigot in ANY capacity

* this is a bg3/dnd/fantasy/western/supernatural rp multimuse blog. I will follow blogs for other fandoms/genres at my own discretion and will block anyone who I think just isn't a good match for me.

* Communication is key. We are all adults here. You can DM me or ask for my discord.

* I have multiple rp blogs and am most active on mistakenmessiah & vigilanthe

✱ ⋆ ࿔ 𓂃 ART CREDITS

blog banner (vintage drawing that I'm still searching for the artist for :' )

pinned image

dash icon template

patchwork jack's art is by @/sweebread

zeal's piccrew

[burtlederp]

My OCs (A Masterpost)

So, you wanna get to know my OCs, eh? Great! That’d make my day! I appreciate your interest more than you know! :) I have a lot of OCs, I will admit, many more than will ever show up here on tumblr. I will only include, in this post, those that have had drabbles written about them and/or people have expressed interest in. The current number of OCs featured on my tumblr is 12; Milo, Anton, Jackson, Valerie, Elias, Risa, Samson, Cindy, Moe, Damien, and Marcelo.

Character bios are below the read more, because, trust me, there is a LOT more to read!

Milo’s Story: A Complete and Utter Mess

Milo O’Malley He’s lean, he’s definitely not mean, and he’s nearly exactly five feet of skin and bone and little else. Beaten down repeatedly through his life, this kid (who doesn’t even look like a kid anymore) resigned himself to a life of harsh, relentless work until his body inevitably gives out on him when he turns 26. Oh, except, it seems a very powerful tiger sprite is trying to possess his body, and he actually doesn’t want to die. And he’s been “adopted” by a giant pick-axe wielding dad-friend named Jackson, who also insists he lives on. Milo isn’t much of a looker, not anymore, with a gaunt, ghoul-like face, dull green eyes, and a shaved head (easier to keep clean when you don’t really have a place to get clean). He is, as I mentioned earlier, five feet tall, thanks to malnutrition through his early years, and dangerously thin. He’s of Irish descent, though his pale skin has long become a sickly gray. After living with Jackson for a while though, his red hair’ll grow out a bit and he’ll get back some of that snow-white European paper skin. As far as he knows, Milo is straight, but he’s never really been in a relationship before. Milo’s Playlist

Jackson Pitolua Jackson is the ideal dad-friend. He’s kind, he’s caring, protective, intelligent, and has a witty sense of humor. He’s been through some very rough times in his life, has had his fair share of terrifying, nightmare-inducing experiences, but this refining fire has left him who he is, and he doesn’t soon forget it. Not all his emotional wounds have completely healed, though, but at least his coping mechanism is seeking to help others as much as possible. As much as he’s grown, he’s still young, and he still hungers for adventure, doing so regularly as both a hobby and a profession. This has led him to meeting and literally adopting Anton, and figuratively adopting Milo. In terms of physical descriptions, Jackson is 6-feet-10-inches and over 200 lbs of pure muscle, with short black hair, a large nose, warm brown eyes, and wide smile missing at least one tooth. His Polynesian descent grants him darker skin, and he’s gotten his fair share of tribal tattoos, with one climbing up his arm to just under his left ear, and another adorning his right leg. His adventuring has led him to be in need of a patron, and so he has chosen one, his allegiance to his Samoan goddess of choice emblazoned all over his back. If he were to be put into any Dungeons & Dragons class, it would be barbarian, because he favors little armor and wields a pickaxe that weighs twice or perhaps even thrice that of Milo. Jackson is straight. Jackson’s Playlist

Anton (Pitolua) Anton is a bit different from others, in that he is not human. He’s from a race of humanoids known as the Night People, carnivorous humans with a very base, tribalistic society. Anton left it in a heartbeat to go with Jackson when he was around the age of 17, after hearing all the wonderful, magical things the modern world had. Anton had his first taste of indoor life and decided he would never go outside ever again. Jackson didn’t allow for this, but Anton has remained rather partial to his static, sustained environments. Anton is a strange one in terms of personality, having lived in a competitive survival situation his whole life and suddenly plopped into one where everyone’s on fair ground. He’s picked up the english language quickly, but he’s still working on his mannerisms, so he can often come off rather cold or harsh, but he means well. He’s protective of his new family, and would give his life for them in a second. Appearance-wise, I am still undecided. I’ve sketched multiple designs, but I haven’t found one that I really enjoy yet. Some features I have decided on though are sharp claws instead of nails, sharp teeth, clawed, long-toed feet with rotating ankle joints and opposable thumbs. Distinguishing features for Anton specifically are his long, black hair and the long scar down his left arm from a nasty fall he took in his youth. Anton, sexually-speaking, is very young and not sure about anything and, for now, forbidden from the act of it by Jackson, who’s nervous he might take after the rather… animalistic sexual habits of his people. Luckily, Anton plays Fortnite and doesn’t get out a lot, so Jackson doesn’t need to worry too much (yet).

Valerie Floraison A wood elf in a modern world, Valerie was raised mostly in Detroit with her nine sisters. Their family made trips back and forth between home and their parents’ home in another realm throughout her childhood so she could still retain her culture. Her family struggled financially all her life, a combination of poor decisions and bad luck, when left Valerie hungry for a life outside of the projects. She moved to D.C. after graduating top of her class at a college in the other realm, and joined the newly-publicized Magic Affairs Agency, becoming head of resource management in no time. She’s got a fiery, stubborn spirit about her, and it’s easy to see her as shallow and materialistic, but she really does care about people. Well, except maybe Jackson. Her sister was engaged to Jackson, and died fighting with him against a manticore. Valerie blames Jackson for her sister’s death. She’s not quite over it yet. As courtesy of her job and career, she’s quite good at wearing a pleasant face, even when she may or may not desire to strangle you. She has a habit of getting a bit physical when angry, never anything beyond a slap, and she does tend to feel bad about it afterwards.  Valerie is almost exactly 6 feet tall, with a thin and willowy figure. She has those long elf-ears, which bear a moderate number of piercings each. She has darker skin with long, wavy black hair that’s usually down, falling over her shoulders, and purple eyes. She favors the finer things in life, so it’s rare that you’ll ever see her out of a dress or not wearing heels. On her left hand is a small rune she had tattooed there that grants a permanent illusion perfectly-applied make-up on her face (no, this did not come cheap). Valerie, in college, double-majored in finances and illusion magic, with a minor in magical cloth manipulation. If she’s not wearing Gucchi, she’s wearing her own couture.

Elias and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Life

Elias Benson Native to the lands of Utah, Elias has never really had an outstanding good time in his life. His family never liked him and kicked him out of the house before he was a legal adult, which resulted in him moving across the country on his own before he was really ready. He’s had relationships before too, and none of them were healthy. He’s a gentle soul, but the world hasn’t really given him a chance to prove it, so he’s turned out to be a bit of a punk, and a lot of an idiot. Even so, he’s a truly good person, even if his language (and observable intelligence) belies it. Elias, before he meets the bounty hunter Risa, is about 5”9, and is pretty gaunt. He’s not quite Milo-levels of emaciation, but he’s not exactly looking great either at around 130 lbs. He’s got short, curly brown hair and big, green eyes, and a little nose stud on the left side. Bruises around his neck were pretty much perpetual from his girlfriend. He also was never terribly clean, so he was usually kinda grungy. After meeting Risa, things more or less took a sharp 180–he got and stayed clean, and bumped his weight up to almost 200 lbs through healthy diet and strict workout regimen. If he gave thought to it and knew it was a thing, he’d identify as asexual or straight.

Elias’ Playlist

Risa Literally out of this world, I like to describe her as a psychopath who accidentally gave herself a soul–because she kinda did. She’s from another planet in the future in a different universe, and was originally a complete sociopath. Not the “mwahaha I like murder because it’s fun” kinda thing, but she just didn’t feel things the same way or at all as other people, literally incapable of most emotions. She was wicked smart though, and after many years of learning about machines and how to be a witch, she complete switched her weak, fleshy body for a metal one and a computer chip brain. Due to an error on her part, however, this robot brain opened up neural pathways for her to experience and use emotions other than want and annoyance. Not that that slowed down her bounty hunting career in the slightest. She’s a planeswalker of sorts, meaning that she’s particularly good at finding her way around the multiverse, and takes advantage of it and the many job opportunities presented because of it. She’s a grade-A badass, also a bit op, and she’s lets people know it. She (kidnapped? Adopted? Enslaved? Took in? There is no good word for how she got Elias) got Elias as her henchman because she was bored and accidentally got attached. Risa is cold, calculating, greedy, and apathetic unless there’s money in it for her. She also has a sense of humor and sarcasm that usually smacks harder than a bullwhip. When she’s not on a job or in a rush, she can also be incredibly, horribly, awfully petty, and takes advantage of her often-if-not-always superior resources to smack down her enemies like flies. She’s a very practical person, and will always choose the most logical pathway in any situation. Risa is lesbian, but the only people she’s ever been attracted to in any way at all is her computer wife Carol, and a giant, sentient, anti-orbital gun she met once on a distant world. Risa is the most difficult to describe in words for me. She’s designed her body to be lightweight but incredibly strong, with minor force manipulation. Thanks to a very expensive coat of paint and arrangement of parts inside her, if she goes ten minutes without direct observation, she becomes completely invisible and partially intangible. She’s not powered by fusion or fission, but rather, a captured god that resides in an enchanted jar in her chest cavity. Her body lacks a lot of humanistic features, being mostly a very smooth, rounded head with antennae on either side that resemble ears, and often move like them too. It wasn’t until she got Elias that she finally installed a proper mouth on herself as well. Risa’s Playlist

Samson Callidan Samson is a very gentle soul who speaks softly, and tends to not speak for long either. He’s wise and observant and a very good listener, because likely, no matter who you are, he cares, at least a little. He had a harsh mother who taught him whats-what, growing up in deep Texas. He has the ability to force people to do as he says, as long as he’s commanding them, like a built in command spell from D&D. Luckily, his mother knew him better than he realized and she was always able to stuff something in his mouth and taught him that his power wasn’t to be misused. Samson is not a young man anymore, but is old, and his parents would say he’s been old since he was about twelve. He’s a religious man, a devout member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, though he didn’t join until well into his twenties, after mission age. He still has done his fair share of traveling, and some of it he even enjoyed. One trip into another realm left him handicapped, with only one functioning eye, and he’d say in a heartbeat that that was the worst time in his life. Luckily, his second wife, Cindy, thinks eyepatches look cool. He and Cindy live alone, way up in the mountains of Utah in a tiny little cabin he and she built together. They have had no kids together, but he plays grandfather to Cindy’s children from a previous marriage of hers. Samson is a gentle giant, roughly 6’’5 and of various European descent. He has tan, leathery skin, with a kind, gray eye, and his hair has long-since grayed, though once it had been a lovely gold. He’s built thick, with a strong figure that Cindy keeps filled out, and despite his age, he’s retained a generous portion of strength from his youth. He’s got a large scar that stretches across his face, going over his left eye, nose, and just barely missing his mouth. His nose, once handsome, is disfigured at the tip, and his eye is a badly-healed, still-freshly scarred pit in his eye socket, though one does not usually see it beneath his eyepatch.

It’s Too Damn Cold To Be A Superhero Today

Damien Lowry Yet another upcycled character, I’m still kinda pulling off the cobwebs and dusting him off, so his backstory may be subject to change. But, as a person, Damien is stubborn as a mountain, and the kind of person whose idea of ‘relaxation’ is more work, but work he wants to do. He’s pretty easy to get along with, but he won’t tell you if he doesn’t like you, he’ll just avoid you. He bounced between homes as a child, traded constantly between his sweet-yet-frail grandparents, his constantly sick or injured mother, or his perpetually drunk father. He’s pretty quiet, a result of too much time spent alone, or too many voices in his head. The voices, fortunately, give him a handful of powers to use as he pleases, and he does so, wielding them under the guise of the superhero, the Alchemist, so named for his ability to summon substances at will. Unfortunately, the power is very specific, and Damien never graduated highschool, so chemistry is a bit foreign to him. But he manages. Damien is mostly only interested in women, a couple men catching his eye throughout his life, but nothing ever really progressed further than crushes, and he’s never had a steady relationship. Damien stands at roughly 5’‘10, and while he’s not starving or emaciated, he’s still on the skinny side, but is deceivingly strong. He has some Native American in him, giving him darker features, including brown eyes and shaggy, usually un-kept black hair. His teeth are noticeably crooked and slightly yellowed, so he usually doesn’t smile with his teeth. He’s built sturdy, and hey, maybe someday he’ll fill it out.

Marcelo Blackwood Marcelo is, honestly, not that different from most super villains. He’s disgustingly rich, wicked smart, and seeks power. He does take the path less traveled from here though, because Marcelo is not mean nor conniving nor evil. He’s a rather nice mayor of a small town in Alaska that’s best well known for having the only superhero in upper North America. The superhero’s name is the Alchemist, and he has but one main foe: the Roman. Who is the Roman? Marcelo is the Roman. By day, he plays the role of the town mayor, a kind, courteous fellow with more money than he knows what to do with, and by night, he is a super villain, blowing things up and robbing banks. What is his motivation? Well, it’s his hobby. Keeps things interesting. His wife is his greatest supporter and literally his partner in crime. Marcelo is, despite all this, a very kind person. He’s very smart, he’s patient, and tries to do his best by the citizens of his town. Even when he’s playing the role of the Roman, he avoids true wanton destruction or harming innocents, bystanders, and law enforcement. Mayor Blackwood is 6’‘10, with pale skin, piercing blue eyes, and always well-styled black hair. He has a perfect nose, a nice jawline, and is all around a strikingly handsome fellow. He may be in his late thirties, but it’s hard to tell. The mayor is always dressed well, rarely dressed down any lower than business casual, and all his clothes are custom-tailored. As the Roman, he wears boots with thick soles so that he is 7 feet tall, and wears a expertly-made and expertly-applied fake beard under his Roman centurion helmet. The helmet also has a visor to further hide his identity.

A Menagerie of Disasters (Everyone Else)

Moe Moe is an older character of mine, and for the writing blurb I used him in, I was really recycling him just for the specific scene in mind. As of now, there isn’t much to say about him. He’s a pained, mentally-distressed individual with a very rowdy demon trapped in his mind.

---

That’s all, folks!

[andtheotherstars]

Long-ass Bloc O’ Text below the keep reading. 

TL;DR: I felt bad because I cheated in Dragon Age and had to invent a headcanon for it to make me feel better.

Spoilers for Hinterlands, Storm Coast (DA:I), The Urn of Sacred Ashes, and A Paragon Of Her Kind (DAO).

I’m currently playing Origins and Inquisition simultaneously. Origins on my laptop and Inquisition on my boyfriend’s PlayStation, both on the easiest mode possible because I play videogames for the story and not really for tactics and fighting and so on. I don’t know if it’s because of the game itself or because I didn’t manage to skill my characters properly.  I have 40 hours in Inquisition and it happened once that my whole party died. That was when we met that Frostback bitch in the Hinterlands. She flew past me and I thought she’d fly away again ‘cause all the dragons I’d seen so far were--whatever--fighting a giant and I could watch them from a safe distance. (That’s Storm Coast in case you’ve missed it. You can fight the giant afterwards.) Anyway, it went from, “Ooh, nice, another dragon. Let’s stop picking herbs and watch it for a while. Aaah! Oooh! Gorgeous!” to “AAAH! DRAGON! BACKTRACK! BACKTRACK!” in a matter of seconds. But that wasn’t what I wanted to talk about.

Okay, so that was the only time my whole party died in Inquisiton. But Origins ... I’m telling you. I’m literally facepalming right now. I die all the time! Hell yeah, the combat in Inquisition is way better than in Origins--I can’t tell you how often my Warden has smashed his daggers into thin air because I didn’t manage to properly click the enemy. I might be such a noob because I’m generally new to videogames and/or because I never ever played a melee before. I was always a ranged attacker kinda guy, and still am. (Mages FTW!) And I realised long ago that my party isn’t really the best combination. No mage. Alistair and I are both tanks. Zevran should be the damage dealer but he’s such a loser, he dies all the time. And usually Dog. (Don’t know what he is. Tank?) 

It worked perfectly fine like that. Until the Deep Roads. The goddamned Deep Roads, gods, how I hate them! More than the Raw Fade. (Unpopular opinion: I actually like the Raw Fade.) The first time I died several times in a row was against Carta. After that I seriously considered taking Wynne with me--but no. I wanted my best bro Alistair and my boyfriend Zevran with me. I took Oghren to the Deep Roads instead of Dog, because it’s sort of a personal quest for him. I didn’t know how many times I’d died so far, and this dreadful thought was at the back of my mind. What if I have to fight Branka in the end?

Well, never mind Branka! I DIED ABOUT TWENTY TIMES TRYING TO BEAT THAT MOTHERFUCKING BROODMOTHER! I actually stopped playing Origins for weeks because I was so frustrated. And I didn’t want to walk all the way back and change my party, then walk all the way through the Deep Roads again. (I probably would’ve got lost and it would’ve taken twice as long to get back to that Broodmother.) Okay. So I took my laptop to my boyfriend’s so he could try to beat that bitch for me. (He’s a videogame pro.) Of course, the first thing he notices is that my party just sucks. I know. I know! But I love them! Okay? Okay. He died three times trying to kill the Broodmother. (Took him one round to get to know the controls and skills.) At least he’d managed to take two thirds of her HP. I only ever managed half. Anyway. That’s when he said the magic word: God mode.

“Why don’t you cheat a god mode?” I heard my alarm bells ring and an angelic choir sing Hallelujah at the same time. “You want me to cheat?!” I didn’t even cheat at class tests. Ever! Frankly, I cheated a lot playing Age of Mythology (O Canada!) but I was young and reckless. I felt a bit torn. I could cheat a party change, but I’d have to change it in the long run and I didn’t want to. I could cheat health poultices, but, nah, too complicated. I could cheat instant kill for every enemy around, but, nah, I like the fighting a little bit after all. I knew I’d have to kill an Archdemon sooner or later and I’d never manage if I couldn’t even kill that stupid Broodmother. But I felt like I’d abuse my characters’ trust. Poor Darrian, he’ll be so confused, I thought. But then again, it just wasn’t fun anymore dying all the time--and not only that. I mean, I couldn’t continue with the game as long as I couldn’t get past that enemy. And I knew it’d get worse. I knew that when I died five times trying to kill the Carta boss. I just didn’t know it’d be so soon and so frustrating. So I did cheat god mode.

I felt so bad. I know, it’s so ridiculous, it’s just a game after all. But anyone who is passionate about DA probably knows what I mean. It’s not just a game. So I immediately had that headcanon of the characters trying to figure out what in the Maker’s name happened.

Darrian stands in front of the Broodmother’s corpse. Blood splattered all over his armour. His daggers slip out of his hand. He rushes to give his companions a healing poultice, then lets himself slump to his knees with exhaustion while they wake up.

ALISTAIR: Darrian! Darrian! Maker’s-- ZEVRAN (gently takes Darrian’s face into his hands): For a moment there I thought that’s it.

Of course Zevran kisses Darrian. He’s so hard in love with him although he denies it. Alistair probably pulls a face now and contemplates wether this thing between Darrian and Zevran is something serious after all.

Darrian looks at his hands. He can’t quite believe that he got out of this without losing a limb, or quite frankly ... dying.

ALISTAIR: The last thing I saw before I passed out was how that--that thing grabbed you and shook you, and I--I thought I’d wake up and you’re-- DARRIAN (still looking at his hands): Yeah ... I thought that, too. ZEVRAN: Then how did you-- DARRIAN: I don’t know. (He shakes his head.) I don’t know what happened. OGHREN: Well, I’d say congratulations on that major adrenaline rush that made you single-handedly kill that-- (He gestures towards the corpse.) DARRIAN: No. No, you don’t understand. (He gestures, too. For the first time since he can remember, he’s lost for words.) I--it should’ve killed me. It literally broke my neck--

Everyone dashes forward to make sure Darrian’s neck is alright and he raises his arms in a defensive gesture.

DARRIAN: I’m alright, guys, I’m fine!

He gets up with a groan, picks up his daggers, and slides them into their sheaths.

ALISTAIR: You’re not alright. DARRIAN (sighs, then snaps): Okay. I’m not alright. Is that what you want to hear, Alistair? I don’t know what happened. I didn’t feel anything, I didn’t see anything, I just know that I should’ve died when I didn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I love being alive. It’s just--argh! 

Darrian hates it when he doesn’t understand something. This frustrates him just as much as those twenty unsuccessful attempts at killing that Broodmother frustrated me. He doesn’t want to think about it any further. They need to find Branka, and quick, before they get to the surface with their new dwarf allies and find all their other allies have been killed by darkspawn.

DARRIAN: Let’s just go. ZEVRAN (looks at Alistair): What he means is, ‘I’m sorry I yelled at you, Alistair, my dearest, bestest friend.’

Alistair says nothing. He knows that, so he smiles. 

They catch up with Darrian. Zevran brushes his fingertips along Darrian’s palm so subtle no one except them notices.

ZEVRAN (murmurs): We’ll find out what happened. DARRIAN (smiles ever so slightly and mouthes): Thanks. ZEVRAN: (still murmurs, but with mock-drama): And if not, maybe you were blessed by the great and glorious Andraste.

Darrian grins and shoves his elbow into Zevran’s side. Of course it was a joke, but maybe--just maybe-- A spark of hope leaps up inside of Darrian. He never believed in any gods or anything. Neither Elven nor human. (He’s a City Elf. But you knew that already if you ever played one.) Then again, only a few days ago, he couldn’t bring himself to pour the blood into Andraste’s supposed ashes.

Seriously. I wanted to be a Reaver so badly but when it came to the point where I had to pour the blood into the ashes, I couldn’t. I. Just. Couldn’t.  And, holy shit, while writing this just now, I realised I could headcanon a whole subplot. (I’m so gonna do that.)