#declan aeducan

[fade-and-loathing-in-thedas]

So at the lovely @merrybandofmurderers request I have now made my merry band in bg3! I'm not gonna play them straight away (I'm going to Loretta's playthrough goddamn it lol) Idk if I'm completely happy with them yet, probably gonna look into some more mods but look at my babies I do love them 😁

Edit: apparently I forgot Viera lol she has now been included

[ravenqueen89]

and we’re back

The move completely derailed my writing but I am forcefully getting myself back on track!

Here you have a Patreon offering for @sternenstaub28, who fills my life with happiness just by existing. The fic features her wonderful OC, Declan Aeducan/Cadash, and his Dorian. I love them far too much, but it can’t be helped.

Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition

Title: Direction

Pairing: Declan Aeducan/Dorian Pavus

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Declan realises something.

Notes: This continues the trend of people thinking they don’t deserve being loved only to realise that they already are. Plus rambling, of course. Featuring one of Declan’s wolves, Dewey!

When it comes to Dorian, it’s the seemingly tiniest of moments that keep taking Declan’s breath away.

The first time he notices it, he is talking to Solas in the rotunda, and looks up to find Dorian leaning on the railing of the library, watching him. There is something Declan can’t read in the gaze, and he finds himself suddenly short of breath, an odd fluttering in his stomach, Solas long forgotten. He feels a bit ridiculous, a bit awkward, but he can’t stop looking at Dorian, can’t stop his heart from racing when Dorian smiles. He can’t think, can’t grasp the passing of time, can’t remember how words work, but he manages to recover enough to grin and raise an eyebrow. Flirting comes easily, but this feels odd, unfamiliar, something blooming in his chest, constricting his throat. When Dorian gives him a little dismissive wave and disappears from the railing, Declan turns around to an empty rotunda, the ravens singing overhead, a trace of mockery in the sound.

The next time it happens, Declan wakes oddly late, bright mountain sunlight spilling into his chambers, tangling around the mussed sheets Dorian has left behind. Stillness has fallen over Skyhold, something akin to peace in the wake of their victory, and Declan only encounters a few stragglers on his way out into the garden. The sunlight is blinding, and it’s absurd that he’s somehow still taken aback by it, even now, but then he forgets to berate himself. Dorian is sitting on a bench, reading, surrounded by flowers and herbs, with a black wolf sleeping right next to him. Declan can feel his heart stuttering in his chest, and it’s ridiculous, how light-headed he feels, how utterly dazed. Dewey is the smallest of the three wolves, but still enormous, and Dorian has always pretended not to care about any of them, keeping his distance. Declan watches, words failing him, no one else around to witness this. The other two wolves must be out, hunting in the expanse of the Frostbacks, but Dewey has always enjoyed being lazy most. The wolf flicks an ear, aware of Declan’s presence, and Dorian scratches his head almost absentmindedly, lost in his book. Declan doesn’t interrupt. He still finds it hard to breathe by the time he returns inside.

The third time, Declan meets Dorian’s eyes over the crowd of people gathered for yet another banquet, and he is filled with realisation. He thinks shit, but doesn’t look away. He thinks I have kissed the inside of your wrist and felt your heartbeat against my palm. He thinks you kneel when you kiss me so that we’re of a height. He thinks I can’t do this.

When Declan walks out for air, no one follows him, his heart beating so fast it aches. Fragments of images chase each other through his mind as he breathes in great gulps of chilled air that even now taste like snow He thinks of Orzammar, and of his brother, the king. He thinks of how he had to train himself to seek only casual dalliances after the third time someone tried to use him for his position. He thinks of the strangers he’d sought pleasure and comfort from during hollow nights. He thinks of exile, and of the sky still threatening to fall on him at any time in all its stunning enormity. He thinks of his name, his old name, which he has renounced. He thinks of the mark on his hand. He thinks of Dorian sleeping in his bed, the strongest man he’s ever known, safe and warm by his side.  He thinks about not knowing how this works, and about how he can’t accept he deserves it. Fear and exhilaration race through his blood, and he feels almost giddy, his hands cold.

Declan hears Dorian approach before he sees him, and when he turns around he observes what feels like his own expression mirrored on Dorian’s face. The mage’s eyes are guarded, as ever, but Declan knows now. He knows. He’s terrified, but he knows.

He takes Dorian’s hand in his, and brings it to his mouth, his lips brushing a kiss against the warm skin over the wrist bone. Dorian says nothing, but Declan says ‘I’ve been getting lost all my life and still you found me’, and when Dorian smiles it is open and free.

[sternenstaub28]

I would love to participate in OC kiss week. But as I can barely draw or write all I can do is throwing my kids out there, hoping they'll stick :D

There's Bellanaris Surana, ace, warden, spirit healer, mage focused on ice and everydodys mom. (in the pic she's possessed by Mira, a spirit of curiosity but that would be another story to tell)

And Ma'Serannas Surana, teenager, adopted daughter of Bella and always angry, throwing fireballs when startled and having a hard time containing magic and emotions

Declan Aeducan, now known as Cadash, bisexual goof and former noble who loves to flirt

And last but not least, Alma Adaar, bisexual, unwilling Herald and bad at fighting, loves the quiet and high places.

(disclaimer: art was done by antivancorvo, feeshies, noctuaalba and bloodwrit)

[fieryaxolotl]

Crown Portrait - Declan Aeducan

@sternenstaub28‘s Declan Aeducan looks fierce wearing this crown :D

Tried to go with a more “dwarven” look.

Thank you for letting me draw him! ^-^

[fade-and-loathing-in-thedas]

By popular demand here are the Merry Band of Wardens using this picrew lol and much love to @merrybandofmurderers for the tag!

From left to right (top to bottom) we have:

Declan Aeducan (my boy likes showing off his assets)

Amos Brosca (who is very done with Declan's shit)

Eden Amell (looking flirty and fabulous)

Adelene Surana (looking very much annoyed)

Assana Mahariel (being her calm and sensible self)

Viera Tabris (the baby!)

Connor Cousland (being my fav sad boi lol)

[fade-and-loathing-in-thedas]

Huge thank you to @anarrowthroughtimesideblog for these absolutely stunning commissions she did of my Merry Band Of Wardens. There are not enough words to express my love for each of these. They are cute af and you have captured their vibes so well. The details, the colours and the shading just blows my mind.

[fade-and-loathing-in-thedas]

Find the Word

I got tagged by the lovely @wild-houseplant to find the words 'cackle,' 'grab,' 'ache,' and 'forget' in my WIPs— So here are a bunch of snippets from my Merry Band of Wardens series. Spoiler alert for love interest reveals.

Cackle

Declan couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing, and once he started he couldn’t stop. Relief and adrenaline rushed through him as he doubled over, letting out a series of distinctly un-royal cackles.

Grab

Declan made grabby hands at Assana and her rucksack. “If I’m going to die at the hands of werewolves, at least let me have breakfast first so I can die with a full stomach. It’s how I would have wanted to go.”

“No one's going to die,” Assana said, and then tilted her head and shrugged. “Probably.”

Declan rolled his eyes. “Probably? That’s really reassuring, thanks for that. Now give me the food.”

Ache

Blood roared in Declan’s skull as he tried to make some sense of what Amos was saying. “You love me,” he repeated. Amos nodded. “You love me.” Declan said it again, just to make sure he wasn’t hearing things, that he wasn’t dreaming. “You love me?”

“Stop saying it like it’s a joke!”

Declan blinked at him. “A joke? No, I didn’t mean...” His chest ached. “Amos, I’m saying it because I can’t believe it. Because you could do a lot better than an irredeemable bastard with a limp and a penchant for dramatics, you know? Ask anyone. Ask Assana, or Connor, or Alistair or Sten. Hell, even ask my brother. But you... you’re standing here telling me that you love me.”

“That’s what I said.” Amos held his gaze. “Is that a problem?”

Forget

When she started to sing, Adelene nearly lost her footing. Leliana possessed a voice that would have made Andraste weep with envy.

Leliana closed her eyes, as if she’d drifted off on the soaring notes. This is how she would remember her. If she died tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that, or somehow sent back to the circle, she’d think back on this moment. Maker, she wanted to kiss her…

Leliana's lashes fluttered open. A pale pink colored her cheeks and she laughed with breathless abandon, the sound as pure and clear as bells ringing.

“What is this dance?” Adelene asked.

“It is called the waltz," Leliana answered, her voice breathy from their exertions.

“Where did you learn such a thing?”

“In the ballrooms of Orlais,” she answered before resuming her jaunty song.

They twirled in dizzying circles around the camp until they were gasping for breath and singing was no longer possible. Maker's breath, in this moment, she was—content. With Leliana in her arms, she could forget the horrors of her life—if even for a moment. When had she last known this happiness?

Tagging @oxygenforthewicked @merrybandofmurderers @kirkwalls-dumbest @sulky-valkyrie @heniareth @castlecousland @yukichouji to find 'pain,' 'brushed,' 'hurt,' and 'heat' (if y'all want to participate, but no pressure)

[fade-and-loathing-in-thedas]

Messed around and made some character templates. Will finish the rest tomorrow. If anyone wants one let me know I'll make a clean one for download.