#unlivable and as little as I see complaints about any of the above I still see them more than people calling to break down doors if that

[ziracona]

TLDR at the bottom, as I know this became very long. My apologies.

I would really like to clarify first that I am not arguing with you or attempting to make you like her and am just attempting to explain my stance since you seemed confused about specifically this: as someone who is very solidly for mage rights in the Dragon Age games and also really likes Vivienne, I do think you overestimate how many fans she has? Which is completely understandable as fandom has cooled a little bit in the last few years, which means there’s less discourse posts floating around, but it used to be that if I found Vivienne content it was vitriolic towards her—she has a canonical Ao3 tag labeled “Vivienne (Dragon Age) Is A Bitch” for example.

We’re not prone to criticizing her character on the regular because she already gets a lot of it, on about the same level as Anders (whom I also am very fond of) and most of it has already been said before.

For examples though, her arguments about mages are genuinely infuriating and make little sense.

She is fantastically racist in the game, which is also very frustrating, though to be fair to her, I’m having trouble thinking of a companion who isn’t at some point or another without ability to correct them (Dorian supporting slavery and his “elven harpy” comment towards, Cole’s “Never trust half an elf” comment which is bad regardless of if they were intending it to be about Michel, Solas and Sera’s everything unfortunately, etc. all come to mind.) Maybe Bull, Leliana, or Josie? I can’t remember them being so off the top of my head.

These things do suck and most Vivienne fans (except for a few, but typically fans who support the fantasy Catholic Church aren’t going to be the type of fans who will bother caring about a Black woman—they’ll usually go for Cullen, the white straight man who is anti-mage and who the narrative actually cares about) are very aware of her flaws, but generally we think it was a very stupid idea to have the first Black companion (that they will actually admit to being Black anyway, unlike Isabela who got whitewashed and Morrigan and Cole, who never really have the fact that they are mixed Black acknowledged or shown in the games) support the oppressive system and use her as a mouthpiece for a conservative agenda.

(Using characters as a mouthpiece for whatever agenda the devs are trying to push with little regard to their actual characters is a very common thing in Inqusition—ex. at one point they have Cole say Cullen was a “good Templar who remembered the mages are people” when Cullen literally has a line in 2 saying “Mages aren’t people like you and me.” which is a direct quote from him, and even though Cole should by all rights be terrified by Cullen. Also, all of Varric’s Inquisition characterization.)

I mean, her companion quest is just there to have you distrust her briefly (the quest is named after a classic villain line and the youth potion paper) before “surprising” the player with the the fact that she… has layers? Cares about someone? Which is so… incredibly stupid on the Dev’s parts for a variety of reasons that if I talk about now I will start getting genuinely angry over.

I also think she has some very redeeming qualities. I personally found that she was very compassionate towards an Inquisitor she was friends with. It doesn’t stop her from being opportunistic, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing necessarily. I think this bit specifically is probably something we won’t agree on however, since we have very different readings on these moments, so I’m going keep it at that.

None of this is meant to convince you to like her at all, but I wanted to explain my perspective in doing so since you seemed confused about it.

TLDR: I, and many other pro-mage Vivienne fans, are aware of her flaws, but we think that was a terrible writing decision and do see several redeemable qualities in her character. None of this is meant to sway you in your dislike of her, but I wanted to explain my perspective since you said you didn’t understand how someone could like Vivienne and be pro-mage.

(P.S. I am very sorry if any of this comes off as condescending or if this was completely unwelcome. I’m autistic and have a hard time with tone, both reading it and delivering it. I’m working on it, but I’m still not good at tone over text.)

I. I understand all of this. I’ve criticized the fact they made the first black companion a huge bitch and a bigot against her own kind from the second it became clear that was her personality? But her being the first black companion also doesn’t innately make her a good character. Being a minority doesn’t make what a character does automatically ok or less bad, and idealization is dehumanization as much as villainizing is. It makes BioWare’s writers and their decisions gross, and their agenda gross, any anyone who uses her sucking as an excuse to be racist or disproportionately hateful to only the black companion horrible, but it at the same time doesn’t just…make her good, or ok.

She’s written stupidly, but the character they made is a bigot given no real character growth who tries to ruin the advances for mage rights even if you put forth the best possible outcomes (Lelianna Divine, allied Mages) and befriended Vivienne. She straight sucks. She does. She is a bad, selfish, emotionally manipulative person with no empathy for those of her kind less privileged than her, and a species traitor. (Or whatever? Can’t think of a better thing to categorize Mages as. Class??) It’s not like I only complain about her. I’ve been just as liberal complaining about Doriana and Sera and every other fucked up choice the Devs made. If you’ve seen anything I posted the past week, you’ve probably seen me having a meltdown over how utterly unsalvagable Inquisition is as a game. As for Viv herself, she’s not devoid of good qualities. She’ll be nice if she’s your friend, you’re right, but you have to be kind of terrible to befriend her at all, and so? So is everyone on the planet. That’s what fair weather friends /are/. But beyond that, yeah. She’s not all evil. She cared about the guy she was mistress to. She’s not a monster. But she high key is a terrible person and sucks. You’re right, the devs making her quest a quote from the Queen from Snow White of all things, to encourage a player to lie to her, is fucked up. So is literally everything they did to her. So is how they treated Bull, and Dorian, and Sera, and all kinds of things. But that doesn’t make the character good.

From your own description, you don’t actually like canon Vivienne. You like the HC version you rewrote in your head. And that’s fair, and it’s a fair way to say fuck you to the devs—I do the same with Solas. But you’ll never see me not absolutely accusing the shit out of canon end game Trespasser Solas—he’s a racial supremacist genocide intellectual dude bro, which is a horrific choice for the devs to make esp considering his preTrespasser characterization, but that’s still what he was. I can ignore that and make my HCs, but I’m not going to pretend canon wasn’t what it is. It was. And I wasn’t complaining I see alternate takes on Vivienne, but that I see people talk about Canon Viv like she’s a girlboss while claiming to be pro mage, and those things just concretely do not and cannot go together. And that complaint absolutely stands. It’s cool and even good to hc and rewrite her as a different person. But that’s not canon Viv anymore then, it’s an OC that should have been in the game.

[goldenfawnwriting]

Birds of a Feather- Hawks Fic pt 4

Summary: After a traumatic experience after going drinking with friends, Finch finds comfort in Hawks’ company. After much contemplation, Hawks’ knows this is a bad idea... Will rumors spread or will their little rendezvous stay secret?

When Hawks awoke he groaned, turning over on the pillowy bed to find Finch sleeping soundly beside him. He was stripped down to his under shirt and boxers and the comforter wrapped the two up warmly. He pushed himself up on his hands and knees, stretching out his wings above the two and letting the plumage shiver as he shook off his sleepiness. He was surprised nothing happened last night, usually when he stayed the night at a woman’s house it was inevitable but, she wasn’t the same.

Finch’s eyes blinked open slowly, a yawn pulled from her chest. When her mind was finally clear she noticed the red feathers blinding her from the sunlight filtering through the window. Her plain bedroom was alive with the red of Hawks’ plumage and she looked over to find the man with his eyes already set on her. 

“U-uh sorry I was just st-stretching...”

He mumbled, pulling his wings back in. As he did she reached up, letting her fingers run against the feathers. She heard his little gasp and blushed slightly as she felt an honesty envelope her. 

“I’m jealous of you.”

He looked at her with a questioning look before she elaborated. 

“Last night when you were flying me home. It was amazing, the feeling of being so far up in the air, the feeling of being so free.”

“Aw birdie, it’s nothing that great..”

She looked away from him, turning to get out of bed. She sat up on the edge of her mattress, pulling her shirt straight again and blushing at how many pillows and stuff she had on the bed. The amount of nesting she did really was kinda weird.

She was sore from the night before but she still stretched out her wings, her right falling short of her left. Hawks’ lingered on the sight for a little longer, pity setting in as he realized that she had never flown, never felt what it was like, never really had a reason for the wings on her back. 

“I wish I could do what you can Hawks.”

He was silent in reply as he watched her stand, fold her wings again, and make her way out of the bedroom. Her bruises from last night were darker, finally developed completely. He noticed the delay in her step and knew she was feeling bad. It was then he got out of bed, pulling on his pants. 

When he finally decided to follow he found her in the kitchen. He peaked over her shoulder, finding her making a weird, colorful bowl.

“What’s that dove?”

He wondered. She jumped slightly, turning to face him as she sighed. 

“It’s a smoothie bowl with oats and granola...”

He gave a weird look and sighed, shoving his hands in his pants pockets.

“No meat huh?”

She chuckled at him.

“No meat. I don’t eat that stuff.”

She explained. He gave her a shocked look.

“You don’t eat any type of meat?”

She shook her head. She was getting a kick out of his reaction. 

“No, I’m a vegetarian. You may be based off a hawk, sir, but I’m based off a house finch. If I eat meat I’ll be sick.”

He didn’t reply to her, just looked her over as she ate her breakfast. He wasn’t really sure what he thought, he was just taking in her form. Her skin looked so soft, She was pale, with a rosy tint. Her brown hair was a little messed up from her sleep but, it still looked so shiny and soft, like she put a lot of work into it. Her wings were the same way, a little roughed up but, nicely taken care of. She was so pretty, he found himself concluding. 

He puffed his wings slightly, pushing his hair back out of his face as he did so. 

“Well, sweetheart-”

“Oh my, I’ve probably kept you way too long as it is, I’m so sorry...”

She trailed off, smacking herself in the forehead. There was a little red mark where she hit herself, and Hawks almost laughed. That wasn’t what his goal was at all, but it sure was hilarious to see her get so worried about it.

“Actually I have today off. For the first time in forever, I don’t have to go in today. And that means you don’t either since you’re my PA.”

She gave him a surprised look and moved to put her bowl in the sink.

“So, I figured, why don’t we spend the day together?”

She looked very surprised then, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly opened. She looked so cute to him. His wings puffed up again. He couldn’t figure out why they kept doing that.

“U-uh are you sure? You really want to spend your day off with me?”

He nodded with a smile at the girl across the room. She paused for a moment before she decided to take the offer without complaint. He barely ever got days off, if he wanted to waste his time with her then who was she to tell him off?

“Well.. What did you want to do?”

Hawks paused. He wasn’t sure, he didn't expect to get this far. As he thought for a moment Finch took in his appearance. He was stunning in the morning, his hair was reflecting in the morning light and his skin was super clear and pretty. She was a little jealous, he almost looked like an angel, only with red wings. 

“Why dont we go back to my apartment so I can grab a shower and then we can go to lunch maybe?”

He suggested. Finch instantly agreed. Whatever he wanted to do she would entertain, she decided, since it was his only day off. 

“Am I gonna have to deal with more flirty waitresses?”

She questioned with humor. He chuckled as he replied.

“Actually, I hate to say it but, probably. I am a bit famous love, so to be honest, we’ll probably be bothered a lot. Sorry...”

He apologized. Her eyes widened slightly with regret.

“Oh no, that’s fine, I didn’t mean it that way!”

She scrambled. She blushed hard and looked away and Hawks inwardly wondered if she would be ok with all that attention. She seemed so shy otherwise. but, he thought, she did stands out anyway. Everyone with wings like his and hers did. Too bad she couldn’t fly so they could avoid the mess of traveling. 

“So uh, did you want to fly to my apartment?”

He asked slowly. She looked at him with a glimmer in her eyes before agreeing hastily. 

“I wish I could fly like you... I bet it’s perfect when you’re stressed or something.”

He smiled and nodded as they made their way to her balcony. He hadn’t noticed the night before but she had many plants decorating the balcony that ranged in size and color. He was impressed as he silently scooped her up and took off. There was that little squeak from last night and he almost laughed. As he made his way across town and up a ways he thought of how warm and nice she felt hugging onto him. He noticed her looking around and her tawny feathers fluttering in the wind that raced past them. She was precious, he thought before he caught himself. No, he couldn’t get involved like that, as much as he was already letting himself. After this lunch date he would go home and go back to work and pretend it never happened, he promised. 

As they landed on his balcony he looked her up and down in his arms before setting her on her feet. He thought about the risks of bringing her to his place, the people that might notice, the trouble he’d get in. He sighed inwardly and led her inside. She trusted him to let him inside of her home but he wondered if that was a good idea. He wasn’t sure if any of this was a good idea but at this point it was a little late. 

She took in his penthouse in silence. She wasn’t sure why she was expecting anything less. It was hardly decorated and looked almost unlived in. She wondered how often he actually was home. She waited on the giant sectional in the living room as he showered and tried to force herself to not notice things but it was impossible. 

The pair of panties that were strewn across the floor in the hallway that lead back to where she assumed was his bedroom. The pair of earrings on his kitchen counter that could be his, she reasoned, but they were pretty gaudy for a guy. Rose gold with glitzy diamonds? Probably not real diamonds she reasoned, they looked way too clear. Unless he had been hooking up with another socialite. He had to be, she reasoned. He had to have found someone within his league at least. This thought only reminded her that she was a lowly personal assistant and didn’t mean much to him. What was this lunch date anyway? 

When he returned he looked a little guilty and he lead her out of the apartment quickly. She inwardly wondered if someone else was there that she hadn’t seen. Was he really dating someone? Then why was he taking her out on a lunch date? Was this second girl a secret fling that no one was supposed to know about? She couldn’t keep her mind from racing as he lead her to the little cafe on the corner of his street. It was uppity and she wondered if she was underdressed. Then it finally popped into her head. The idea that he was doing this for the paparazzi so that it looked like he was seeing her instead of the mystery girl. Maybe people were starting to catch on to them and this was the perfect way to deflect the attention from the one girl to her. 

As they sat down and ordered it felt a little awkward. Like they both knew this wasn’t real, just a look for the public. And she groaned inwardly cause if this was how it was he could’ve at least let her try and look a little nicer. Maybe thrown on a little more makeup and a nicer blouse than the lame nude blush color she was wearing. Her black skinny jeans didn’t do her much justice as a pro hero’s lunch date and she sighed at her ratty sneakers. 

He watched her from across the table and wondered what her mood change was about. Was she regretting seeing him? He was trying his best, he thought, looking across the room and away from her. What had changed her mood? He thought for a good moment as they ordered before the light bulb lit up. the stuff in his apartment. She must have saw it. He instantly felt awful. It was from a hookup a weekend ago and the girl hadn’t been back since to collect her things. It was a one night stand but he was always working or patrolling so he never got rid of the things. He mentally beat himself ups and knew that was what she was thinking about. He probably seemed like a sleezeball to her now. 

“F-finch?”

She looked up at him with stony eyes. He was definitely correct in his assumption. He gulped at her look before taking a deep breath and throwing his signature, lady killing smirk her way. It didn’t seem to do much for him.

“So, what do you like to do in your free time?”

He asked, trying to lighten the mood. No point in bringing up the girl’s things in public, when anyone could be listening. As their food was served Finch replied. 

“I mean, nothing amazing. I have plants and I like to write a little.”

He nodded and inwardly she wondered why he cared if she was just a publicity stunt. She supposed it was to make it seem a little more real to the people watching. She felt shy all of the sudden, as if she had the whole world watching her. 

“Thats cool. Do you like plants a lot? I can’t keep a single one alive.”

He laughed, taking a bite of his food and watching her face for her response. 

“U-uh, ya I guess. It’s a lot of work to keep them alive but it’s not like I have much else to do.”

She trailed off. He could feel that she wasn’t very interested in him. It hurt a little, since he didn’t mean to mess up what little connection they had. He felt like he had just thrown it all down the drain. He should’ve thought about the stupid panties. He didn’t even remember, in his defense. 

When they had finished eating Hawks paid and lead her outside, swimming through the people snapping photos and asking questions before Finch stopped him.

“I can make my way home from here. I’ll just see you at work tomorrow.”

She began walking away, looking down at the sidewalk before disappearing into all the people out that day. She had left him there to watch her walk off, face dropping. He really had fucked it up, he blew it big time. 

[deanofwhumpuniversity]

Blind Eye, Unliving Heart: Prologue

This was meant to be for Whumpmas in July 6, but since it’s just story setup, no actual whump happened. I’m so sorry, I’ll do better in future.

Content Warnings: Watched while sleeping, injured while sleeping, unknown injury, dehydration, fainting, sleep deprivation, character questioning their own thoughts

***

Thea woke to an abject silence, the sort that only follows a jarring sound. Each night so far in Kennedy House, she’d found her sleep either delayed by the unfamiliar surroundings, unhelped by the imposing furnishings and unsettling architecture; or interrupted by the creaks and groans of the mansion’s ancient bones settling. 

As old as this place is, shouldn’t it be all settled by now? 

She snorted gently. Unless it’s slowly sliding down the mountain.

Her eyes widened in the dark at the unbidden thought, and she curled herself tighter under the blankets, as though they would be the difference between safety and a mile long tumble down Mont Sarseine. 

She waited in the lengthening silence to see if whatever sound had woken her would come again. She didn’t feel groggy or bleary, as she believed she would had she fallen out of a quickly forgotten dream. Part of her wondered if she was awake now at all, or if she’d lay awake in this room so many hours, so many nights, that her mind was now replaying the habit in her sleep. Groaning inwardly, she considered just getting up and getting some work done, knowing a few more hours failing to sleep wouldn’t make slogging through her texts any easier. She looked toward the corner of the room by the door, knowing her phone was plugged in on the table there. No light came from the screen, and she was about 90% sure she had it silenced anyway; though the more she tried to remember actually going through the action of muting it, the more that percentage dwindled.

The room was cast in an utter natural dark that should have been serene, without the ambient glow and attendant background noise of the million electronic devices she was used to being surrounded by. With the moonlight filtering weakly through the curtains, all the heavy wooden pieces around the room were just slightly lighter shadows in the nothingness surrounding them. She was fairly certain the outline of the table was just her mind filling in what she knew to be there despite her inability to actually see it. She was almost certain that the shape above it on the wall was just a trick of the absence of light. She was not-quite certain that she didn’t see the shape move. 

A shadow, almost like a person, only upside down. Her eyes flitted to the window for just a moment, to confirm there was no figure standing there to block the light. She quickly looked back, and the thing remained, unmoving. What might have been arms and legs splayed out from the center, as if the shadow was not cast, but clinging to the wall itself, spider-like. It had seemed to have a head before, down toward the floor, and while she couldn’t possibly have seen it in the gloom her mind supplied the information that its face was now arched back, away from the wall. Looking at her.

She had to stifle a gasp as the thought, and her heartbeat rushed in her ears. Now that her mind’s eye had seen it, she couldn’t unimagine unblinking dark eyes, wet enough to shine in the light that couldn’t possibly illuminate that far, though the rest of the figure was without form or detail. She focused on keeping her breathing slow and steady, hoping that the darkness concealed her wide, terrified stare.

Thea jerked awake, spinning around to survey the wall while frantically patting the blankets around her, as if to make sure nothing had skittered under the sheets with her to hide from the sunlight beginning to struggle through the heavy curtains. When had she fallen asleep? Why was she so sure someone else had been here?

She tossed the blankets aside, kicking free from where she’d tangled herself in them, and swung her legs out of bed. The moment she stood her face felt flushed; the heat from her cheeks seemed to roll down her body in a wave as her muscles gave out and she went to her knees on the ancient rug, barely catching herself with one hand on the end table at the head of the bed. The spell passed quickly, and her mind was present enough to catch the out-of-place tremble of glass as she steadied herself. 

She sat back on her heels, and quickly spotted the source of the noise: A simple, clear glass of water sat center on the otherwise empty table. No condensation dripped down its surface, no ring marred the old wood beneath it, but it was glorious, and she found herself letting out a shaky sigh as she suddenly felt she’d never been so thirsty.

By the time she began to question, she was already taking in greedy mouthfuls and swallowing them heavily, breathing through her nose, intent to finish the whole thing in one go. I don’t bring drinks into my room. I don’t bring water around the books. God, what if I’d knocked it on my research?

You haven’t been sleeping, she argued with no one. Or, clearly, hydrating enough. Obviously you do bring drinks to bed, it’s here isn’t it?

The last swallow wasn’t a full mouthful, and it felt a strangely unsatisfying end, but as the glass emptied she gasped and pitched forward, both hands around the cup thumping to the floor. After a few heavy breaths, she began to smooth her hair back from where it had tossed into her face. Her hands grazed over the wispy curls at the top of her neck, behind her ears, and she felt a jolt of soreness, not from poor sleep, but like a bugbite without the itch. 

Thea focused on the spot, poking and prodding at it. Her first thought was to check the mirror in the bathroom down the hall, but she shied away from it as the only girl on this floor, and she didn’t want to field any complaints at spending more time in there than usual, having to explain why she might have a mark on her neck. 

She remembered the foundation in the caddy by her desk, and dug out the little compact, angling it up behind her, straining her eyes while she felt around. She thought she could make out a bit of redness, but the whole of her neck was irritated with her ministrations by now, and standing at an odd angle was already tiring. She needed more water. I’m going to be absolutely useless today. She snapped the compact shut and tossed it on the untidy pile of zipper bags in the basket. Gathering her towels to shower and face the morning, she stepped out into the hall and pulled the door til she heard it click, leaving the empty glass still sat on the floor by the bed. 

***

The day hadn’t been a complete loss. Once she’d fallen back into routine, Thea had managed to shake off her fatigue and felt like she’d actually made some progress through her translations. At least the research fellows seemed happy with her work.

Dusk fell quickly and she was almost glad that the hours had raced away, as with the set of sun she felt her exhaustion returning. She excused herself from dinner as soon as she’d eaten enough to be polite, and in her room she dumped her materials on her desk without bothering to straighten them. She changed her clothes, and set the alarm on her phone with practiced motions, plugging it in by the door. Turning back to the bed, her unconscious routine shuddered to a halt. As the last light of day slipped below the horizon, Thea stared at the end table and a full, clear glass of water.

I refilled it and brought it back. Obviously. I’m sure I’ll be glad for it in the morning.

She held her shoulders straight and tightened her jaw, moving stiffly past the table with her sight firmly on the bed, sparing no more attention for the glass. She slipped under the comforter, pulling it close up under her chin and turning to face the wall, away from the lengthening shadows of the room.

I’ll be glad of it in the morning.