#arielle writes

[justabrowncoatedwench]

I’m kind of proud of myself this NaNo. Not because I’ve hit word count every day, or because the word count I’ve hit has been 100% my writing (a large portion of my drafting is transcribing video game dialogue to be fleshed out later), neither of which is true. But because I’ve worked on my NaNo fanfic project every day, even for just a little bit. I’m hoping to keep at it and really develop a habit, because even if my daily progress isn’t huge or all that consistent, as long as I work at it every day, I can actually accomplish something. So that’s the hope. ^_^

[justabrowncoatedwench]

Courtesy of the wonderful, amazing @kirkwallgirl-inactive, I present to you my Theirin Royal Family Portrait!

L to R: Crown Princess Elena Theirin (named for her grandmother Eleanor), King Alistair Theirin, Queen Milena Cousland Theirin, and Prince Cedric Duncan Theirin.

In (my) canon, this was painted within the year before Milena headed off into the wilderness to the west of Orlais, searching for the cure to the Taint. Elena is about 7 and Cedric is about 2 or so, off the top of my head without looking at my written out timeline lol. Elena will eventually, many, many years down the road, become Queen. At the time of this portrait Cedric is just a prince, but in my canon Anora is Teyrna of Gwaren, and eventually chooses to name Cedric her heir (it’s her idea, not the royal couple’s at all).

It may bear mentioning that my canon is the 5 book fanfic project I’m working on, where among other things, Anora and Milena were friendly during childhood/Milena idolized the older girl a bit, and also Alistair was raised by Loghain and Celia, not Eamon, and so Anora is his sister/they have a sibling relationship (marrying her would have been way too gross, beyond the fact that he was madly in love with Milena anyway).

[justabrowncoatedwench]

For those saying fear and anger are not constructive to today’s climate/protests...

I’m going to copy-paste and expand on a comment I just posted on a Facebook friend’s status. Because I’ve had enough of people saying that fear, anger, and negativity is a bad atmosphere, is a bad attitude to have when protesting the Nazis and white supremacists running rampant in the United States.

I am a Jew.

Of course I am afraid, faced with what my country is displaying these days.

Of what my country is not only permitting, but encouraging.

My fear is not a negative. My fear is a strength, it makes me stronger.

Because it does fuel my anger. Because I am angry.

Those like me, those who are part of minorities who are afraid and angry are RIGHT to be afraid and angry.

It shows we are paying attention.

It shows we are hungry for survival, for life, to live as we choose.

Do not denigrate our fear and our anger just because you have no self-focused reason to feel the same.

I rejoice that such people exist in this world, those who live life without the fear of death, torture, and rape at the hands of someone who hates you just for existing. I am happy that there are those who fear these things (often in an abstract sense) from bigots but do not know what it is to fear these things in a daily, visceral sense.

But I am not one of them.

There are many who are like me. Who fear these things as a matter of course in our days. Who wonder which stranger they pass on the street, they interact with at the store or at work or in school, might hurl slurs, throw hate at them.

There are many, like me, who wonder which strangers would simply look away and stand by, who would do nothing in the face of bigotry not aimed at them, but aimed at an innocent, a stranger.

It is your privilege not to fear.

It is your responsibility to use your privilege to stand strong in the face of such horrors, to speak out, to lend a microphone, a platform, for those who do fear.

Who are angry.

Because our fear, our anger, is not a weakness.

It is not “sinking to their level”.

It is not ruining your “happy, positive, constructive” protests.

It is our survival instinct.

And it is screaming.

Even when we cannot.

Please, reblog. I encourage it.

[justabrowncoatedwench]

OC Kiss Week ‘17 - Day 1: A Good Morning Kiss

(A little late of a start, because RL, but I’m doing in!)

Starring @rogueofstorms‘s Fen’falon Lavellan and my Marek Mahariel....

The Arlathvhen bustled as dinner was cooked and the business of the day broke into the revelry of the evening. Marek mosied through the clusters of elves from all different clans, finally released from his duties as one of Keeper Marethari’s guard. First Sarel and the new Second, Merrill, remained with the majority of their Clan back in Ferelden, but a small guard always went with the Keeper to the Arlathvhen. Freshly inked, Marek was the youngest member of the guard this year by several years; he was pretty sure that his inclusion had to do with his father having been the previous Keeper.

As he walked the young man took in the sights and sounds of the camp, enjoying all the differences in clothes and accents. The smells coming from the cook fires began to make his mouth water. Suddenly a laugh broke the air, even over the general atmospheric sounds of people relaxing, cooking, sharing stories. Marek’s gazed searched out the laugher, finding a young elf like himself, but from Clan Lavellan of the Free Marches. The firelight made her dark hair glow and the staff at her side told him she must be either the First or Second of Clan Lavellan. As though without command, his feet took him closer to the fire she was at, chatting with a mix of their fellow elves from several Clans.

The others welcomed him warmly; they were safe here. The Arlathvhen was never held in the same place twice and several layers of protection were in place to ensure they would not be found by shems. Marek managed to sneak a seat next to the laughing girl and quickly learned her name was Fen’falon. The group of them laughed and traded stories of their Clans, shared dinner together as the night fell and the stars appeared above them. Somehow - he had the inkling that Fen’falon had initiated it - by the end of the evening the young mage at his side was holding his hand. Marek looked at their entwined fingers, blushing a little when he met her piercing, mischievous gaze. Oh, she was trouble, he was sure, but not necessarily bad trouble.

The night wore on and the all went to their own, separate beds, but Marek had hope that he might see the pretty, intoxicating Fen’falon in the morning. He lay in his bedroll trying to sleep, unable to tear his mind from the light on her skin, the curve of her smile, the way her eyes always seemed to be laughing. At him or with him, the young warrior wasn’t really sure. Eventually he drifted off, and eventually the morning came.

Searching the slow-waking crowds of elves, Marek lifted onto his tip toes to see over the campsite. There! His strides were purposeful as he ducked between people to reach his quarry.

“Fen’falon!” It was about the only warning she got, turning to give him a grin, before he took her hand and planted a kiss on her lips, his hand going for hers. Breathlessly, he pulled back, a little sheepish. “G’morning. I, uh, I meant to do that last night, too.”

Fen’falon laughed at his expression and dragged him off to eat breakfast with her; Marek gladly followed, his heart pounding in his chest, a grin on his face.

[justabrowncoatedwench]

Re: the tension thing: comparing what a character was in canon to what they become in an AU is my absolute ideal tension/thing of any sort, and why I almost exclusively read fanfic. Usually if I want to abbreviate it I reference nature vs nurture, because you keep the character recognizable by keeping the same nature, but contrast alternate nurture(s).

That’s an interesting abbreviation, since nurture is a present influence in both canon and the AU, and it’s just different nurtures at play. 🤔

[justabrowncoatedwench]

💬

“I have to go back, I can’t leave them!” Milena moved toturn and run back up the tunnel past him, but Duncan caught her with one armaround her waist, his free hand catching her closest arm.

 “No,Milena. I can’t let you do that. I promised your parents I’d get you out.”

She steppedback from him then, away from her home, and dragged the back of oneleather-clad hand across her cheek. To wipe at the tears she hadn’t stoppedshedding, no doubt. “But you only did that so you can make me a Grey Warden andrecruit me for the war. Not because you want to protect me.”

She was right but that didn’t meanthe accusation didn’t sting Duncan even so.

[justabrowncoatedwench]

Am I padding my NaNo word count by doing more transcripting even though I haven’t finished fleshing out the first chapter’s transcripting yet? Yes, yes, I am. Numbers make the dopamine goooooo.

[justabrowncoatedwench]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Zevran Arainai/Female Warden, Zevran Arainai/Female Tabris, Zevran Arainai/Tabris, Alistair & Female Tabris Characters: Zevran Arainai, Alistair (Dragon Age), Female Tabris (Dragon Age), Tabris (Dragon Age), Loghain Mac Tir, Riordan (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: single rape mention re Shianni, Angst, Losing a friend, losing a friend to protect them, thoughts about death and facing the Archdemon Summary:

Kalliana Tabris would never force a friend to do something they abhor. And she would never put Alistair on the throne when it's the last thing he wants. But he doesn't understand that a loathsome enemy could save all their necks in exchange.

The fallout of the Landsmeet, where Kalliana Tabris loses her best friend in exchange for protecting his freedom by recruiting Loghain Mac Tir to the Wardens.