A scenario/reacion blog that is centered around Dragon Age. I am 23, I go by they/them pronouns! Please be aware that I have a lot of health issues, so sometimes posting is SUPEr frequent and other times my pain gets kind of intense and i might just do something once a month. apologies for the inconsistencies !!
Ahem ;} Headcanons for Dorian just realizing that Oh. His Amatus is quite protective of him 🥺 something short but sweet mayhaps
Or whatever u wanna write 🤣
It's not that Dorian was by any means ignorant to his Amatus protective streak. You didn't have to be some genius (although Dorian would argue he is the closest spare for perhaps a select few) to understand his partner felt a need to keep their loved ones safe. It's obvious in the little things, making sure people always walk in the safest spots, triple-checking everyone eats at camps.
The little small ways that you can write off as a mother-hen situation, laugh over a couple of glasses of wine about.
And then his father appears. Halward Pavus had always had an ability to surprise even when Dorian thought he'd had the man all figured out. Dorian had expected his anger to be shared with his love, obviously. Whenever Dorian doesn't like someone it becomes a group project.
But he hadn't expected- well. Whatever this was.
His eyes are filled with amusement, eyebrow raised as if to say 'really?'. Dorian leans back against the chair he's sat at in the Inquisitor's quarters, watching them pace back and forth just as he had for the past five minutes.
''Why would she think I wouldn't tell you?'' Has been a repeated sentence for this whole time, and it seems Dorian isn't spared it's existence just yet.
''In what world- in what disgusting world would I not tell you such a thing?''
The Inquisitor stops, hands on their hips as they huff.
''I'm going to start securing peoples mail at this point. Does your father have a phobia? Do I have to start nailing paintings of anti-slavery propaganda on the walls to make him go away?'' That does actually make Dorian laugh.
He can't keep it together at the mere image of Halward Pavus walking into the esteemed Inquisition and somehow cowering at political paintings and statements.
''Darling, I'm starting to think you're somehow more upset at Mother Giselle about this than me.'' Which was really saying something. Dorian was still healing, if he was being honest with himself. A part of his exhaustion lingered even now. His heart in shattered little pieces once again after being so delicately repaired the first time he left home. But he'd live. He always did.
''I just-'' They sigh, shoulder slumping like they do whenever paperwork or meetings with nobles get brought up over breakfast.
''I want you to feel safe here. This is by all means our home currently and I don't want a single person here to make you feel like it isn't.'' They frown, face scrunching up in annoyance.
''Besides, that was an absolute disgusting overstepping on her regards. I should really have a conversation with her regardless.''
It makes sense if Dorian thinks about it. His Amatus isn't above sending narrowed glares and snide remarks on his behalf whenever people feel far too confident pointing out things to the scary Tevene Mage.
He just sort of didn't expect them to carry such a spiteful sentiment towards anyone for him to this degree. It's charming. It makes his heart warm and glue itself back together a bit. Dorian could cry about it, if he wasn't enjoying seeing them worked up so much. Perhaps later, during a later night when they're doing all those emotional chats they're so good at.
''It was.'' Dorian starts, standing up and walking over. His plenty accessories making small noises with every step, and he doesn't doubt his rings are cold against the Inquisitor's face as he presses his palms against their cheeks.
''But you've been huffing and puffing about this like a wronged businessman even before you started pacing. I'm starting to worry you'll dent the floor.'' He can't help but grin as he speaks, eyes twinkling with a mixture of adoration and amusement.
''How about we shelf this, as fun as I do find the idea of watching you chew out an old revered chantry member on my behalf- I much prefer you not being chased around by religious zealots. Well- more than we already are.'' Dorian lets his hands drop to take theirs, the mark warm against the touch.
''I suppose I can hold my anger. For now. But if you hear something about Mother Giselle and me fighting in some courtyard let it be know, she asked for it.'' They huff, and he just shakes his head in response.
It's funny how they thinks anyone could make Skyhold feel less like a home when they're right here. Making it feel safer than anywhere else in the world by just pacing back and forth in a room like a madman.
i have so many wips i promise im just writing a ton of ttrpg campaigns, dealing with a pest issue, trying to get through the summer and praying to god my hand stops hurting when i write longer texts LMAO
god. Vivienne really is just. that character. She is taken to the circle so young she does not remember what her parents even looked like and someone had to tell her. She wouldn’t even know if they were telling the truth. She is ruthless, the terror and nightmare of the Orlesian court. She almost weeps when you find the Tranquil skulls in Redcliffe. She hates drop waists. She is harrowed younger than any other mage in living memory. She teaches Bull the steps to the dance of the six candles. He likens her to a Qunari dreadnought that has half the enemies on the ground before he’s even reached the front line. Her accent’s not Orlesian. No Free Marcher can tell where she is from either. Is her original voice another part of herself she cut off? She enchanted a duke within one meeting and they scandalised even Orlesian society. She was good friends with his wife. They possibly fucked too. No can control her. She’s been owned since the moment she was first brought to the Circle. She belongs to no people. There are a dozen leashes around her neck claiming otherwise. She makes fun of an elven god for setting his coattails on fire. She is on the verge of banishing Cole back to the Fade all the time. She can’t help but grow to care for him at the end despite her best efforts to pretend otherwise. She hates herself for it. She thinks caring makes you weak. During the first conversation you have with her unmasked as a Trevelyan, she begs to know if you also cared about her childhood friend, Lydia. She tries to import illegal fur into Skyhold. Did she kill everything soft within her soul herself or did the Chantry sisters do it for her? She is impossible to prank. Some might say she’s even better than Sera at pranking. She was pulled into the game by the time she was nineteen. She’d faced worse things since she could first remember her dreams. Life has never been fair. One merely needs to be hard enough to survive. The blade at her neck when she lay on the floor of the harrowing chamber was no different from the hunger in her belly as child, a necessary pain that only drove her forward. Maker, was there ever any chance that she did not see cruelty as simply another word for life? Is there any version of her that does not end up surrounded by moral filth?
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