daficswap reblogged
Usiu and Josie for @sunlian aka very late @daficswap contribution :>
daficswap reblogged
A little late bUT
Art is hard guys
Anyway, here’s my @daficswap (except it turned out to not be a fic its an Art) for @julissayne ! Halloween in Thedas, so I did Dorian in a Desire Demon costume
Because that’s who Dorian is as a person
I hope you like it! ><
@sunlian‘s entry for @julissayne featuring their Felicius Trevelyan and Dorian post Trespasser.
20 years. That’s how long it took to track him down and box him in. 20 years of endless cat-and-mouse, sabotaging operations, cutting losses and abandoning plans, a seemingly endless back-and-forth, a war fought nearly entirely in the shadows.
They were all here, mostly. Those who had been in this fight from the beginning, when there was still a barely-stable hole in the sky. More had joined, when the true enemy was revealed. Many more fell.
For years, this is how so many thought it would continue; they couldn’t catch Solas, and maybe they couldn’t fully stop him, but they could slow him down, indefinitely. Delay and delay each plan, plot and ploy, keep his forces occupied in a cold war, fighting small skirmishes on the occasions where blades truly did clash.
Until today.
Fitting that he’d been finally pinned on a tiny island off the Tevinter Coast, so small that it was not even named. Maybe there’s some dramatic irony in that, pinning a god down on a such an insignificant patch of rock and sand, but Dorian isn’t concerned about dramatic ironies at this point.
He’s far more concerned about his family. More importantly, he’s concerned about his child.
He’s worried about Trevelyan as well, of course, but his amatus was always a fighter; he lived for it, found a near unparalleled joy in proving himself in combat, even in his age. He was where the fighting was thickest; holding off the forces of Fen’Harel on the coast, preventing them from reaching their leader. Where he belonged, when he was not at Dorian’s own side, of course.
(He’s much more worried than he wants to admit, and maybe he will, when this is all over and they return to Minrathous. The three of them, together, because they will all make it through this.)
The small trawler rocks as the sea churns, broiling from mana-storms and violent spellcasting. It makes the small wounds Dorian sustained in the push to the boat that little bit worse, and he makes an obvious effort to not wince, when he catches Felicius staring at the blood coating their shortsword. He reaches over, pulling out a kerchief and offering it to them with a smile.
“Better get that clean. Remember what your father taught you about clean blades and the like?”
The young adult nods and wordlessly accepts the offered cloth, gently dragging up and down the length of the blade, into the small groves where lyrium-etched runes were molded and stamped into the pale steel. It was a fine blade, despite its age now; a gift when they turned sixteen, presented by a beaming Trevelyan. It was beautiful, and yes, practical; Dorian had no delusions that they would use that blade in earnest one day.
He could’ve never imagined that it would be against a god.
@mureh‘s entry for @littlemissfundip of her Eris Trevelyan and Cullen.
daficswap reblogged
All the Way Down the Rabbit Hole
Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition
Pairing: Grazham Trevelyan/Robert de Somonte
Summery: Due to a series of unfortunate events Grazham and Robert find themselves stuck in some rather inhospitable dwarven ruins. Then come the spiders.
Note: A Cristmas trade for the lovely @mureh as part of the @daficswap. It was an honour to write for your babies. I hope I did them justice. Had to repost this because apparently Tumblr’s entire system wants me dead and flat out refused to let me tag anyone.
daficswap reblogged
The Long Hours
My contribution for this latest round of the @daficswap for @latefortevinter.
Featuring their Vaxus Trevelyan and Dorian Pavus just after Trespasser’s events. I’m not quite sure if this is angsty enough to fulfill your request but I hope you’ll like it.
Sorry I got this up a little late, but I hope you enjoy it! If you want to read it on Ao3 you can find it here.
The setting sun had painted the walls opposite the windows with hues of fiery oranges and gold-dripped yellows, the floral wallpaper transformed into a field of marigolds.
The room beyond this one was filled with voices – Leliana’s, Cullen’s, and Josephine’s - as the three argued one another into circles with greater and greater intensity. They were afraid and falling back to the old habits because of it.
daficswap reblogged
Zevran and Falcon for @aly-the-writer (: They were so fun to draw!
Happy Holidays ✨ also thank you jess for hosting @daficswap, you are my hero.
daficswap reblogged
lovelylittlekitten-deactivated2
DA Fic Swap!
This time my partner was @spacetango in the @daficswap! And they wanted Briala post-Trespasser! I hope you enjoy it, it was certainly refreshing to write!
daficswap reblogged
My part of the exchange with @lovelylittlekitten for the @daficswap. Penelope Hawke and Fenris, posing for their annual Wintersend card. It’s really just an excuse to wear those sweaters.
daficswap reblogged
My second present for @candystrippers for the @daficswap event!! This is their lovely Inquisitor Seren who’s in love with Dorian. Seren’s buried underneath a mountain of paperwork, even after losing his arm but luckily he has the talking crystal to talk to his love far off in tevinter.
I hope you like it and it was super fun to work on this!! Have a great holiday <3
daficswap reblogged
candystrippers-deactivated20190
Wicked Hearts
A major MAJOR thank you to @crispych0colate for telling me all about her amazing Inquisitor OC Cyriel Lavellan. I hope I did her justice in this, I’ve been more than a little anxious about sharing with you. But she’s incredible and I hope you like this.
Cyriel did try to hide the twinge in her face the moment Josephine had mentioned the ball in Orlais, and if Josephine noticed at all she was kind (or perhaps cordial) enough to let it pass without a fuss. She had no means to deny the importance, she saw what lay ahead should Empress Celene fall. Still, an Orlesian ball, lives on the line, and this time Cyriel would be the representation for the entirety of the Inquisition. There was more at stake here than a life, it was so very many lives.
Still, Josie did well to remedy her fears, at least in the moment. She would not be alone, and she would have help to keep the judgement of those nosy racists at bay. And besides, that was when the ball had seemed ages away, a distant plan on the ever-expanding list of save-the-world requisitions that flew by the war table day in and out, when the Western Approach still remained hostile and the number of active rifts still pouring demons like waterfalls was too pressing to ignore for even one night.
Then the day finally came and the doubt crept back up again. There were so many variables, it could all go wrong. It had before, she thought, standing around the trunk of that oak tree with her advisors, hoping they had more faith in her than she could muster. Cullen seemed steadfast and headstrong as he often was, and at least he understood her distaste for Orlais, that was a comfort. But Josie kept talk of the game, of winning favor with these people and somehow even worse, Leliana saw reason to exploit the idea of an elf in the Empress’s bed as scandal.
All this she kept thinking in her head as they entered the palace, trying her all to focus on anything but the night that seemed to distant only a day earlier, now ever-present as Cyriel stared up at the familiar architecture.
“Hey you, Rabbit!”
Cyriel’s heart leapt up into her throat to stay her words, thankfully, else they’d be thrown through the gates before the night even began. She swallowed the sentiment and shot a glance at Cullen who’s eyes rolled just enough for her to see. At least she was not alone.
Gaining the favor of the court was unnatural, yet not quite so difficult as she originally expected, and soon Celene herself was requesting Cyriel’s company on the dance floor. The gossiping sounds from the ledge above them as they twirled were like a distant thunder on the horizon that Cyriel hoped with every breath would be kept at bay.
Between the intrigue, the clucking hens, the sneaking around, she kept her mind clear and focused. Staying out of the past, and in the present was all she could want to do. There were moments, still, that she enjoyed. A drink in the courtyard with Dorian, a laugh with Sera over the silliness of these nobles. Still, anytime she allowed her mind to rest even for a moment, the desperation of the ongoing investigation pulled her back to the present.
Soon enough she gathered enough information to go forward. She knew everything. The Empress’ relationship to Briala, Gaspard and his treason, and what Celene had done.…the magnitude of it all. There was no shortage of anger trying to rise up in Cyriel’s throat, but she had to keep her vision clear. She was almost through this. All she needed to do was tell her advisors what she found and they’d put a stop to this assassination. No evil, fade-ripped future, no descend into chaos.
“Then perhaps we should let her die.”
The words froze Cyriel in place, as a stark whiteness took her, her vision tunneled. Leliana elaborated, truly suggesting they let the assassination they came here to stop take place. To step back and allow it to go on. The visions in her head were all of the old ball now. The bloodshed and screaming, the sounds of pure pain that swept through the echoing halls that may as well be the one she stood in right now.
They weren’t exactly fighting her either, Cullen and Josie. It was all political. Not in defense of ones self, but killing - allowing killing - for a political shift. She tried to open her mouth to object as they argued before her but no sounds came. She was stark white now, enough for Cullen to catch and take note for just a moment as he reached an arm out to steady her.
It wasn’t enough to calm her panicked mind, but it dragged her out of the spiral and into the present where she could finally speak.
“We came here to save Celene.” Her words were rarely final, but in this case they had to be. She would not go down that road. Not again.
daficswap reblogged
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Blackwall & Josephine Montilyet Characters: Blackwall | Thom Rainier, Josephine Montilyet Additional Tags: DAficswap Summary:
Blackwall makes use of an Orlesian code, Josephine responds in kind.
A gift for DA Fic Swap ‘17, for @sharp-sparks
Source: archiveofourown.org
daficswap reblogged
My Round 10 @daficswap for @sincethewreck focuses on Hawke’s relationship with each love interest in the event they have children. Short little expositions for each one. It was alright if I varied the Hawkes used in each relationship, and since I already have a headcanon for my Corin Hawke and Anders, that fit nicely here as well. It was definitely interesting coming up with these scenarios and just how each type of Hawke might react. I hope you enjoy!
Title: Possibilities Characters: Garrett Hawke, Marian Hawke, Corin Hawke, Fenris, Isabela, Anders, Merrill, and Sebastian Vael (plus all the children). Words: 1,219
Garrett Hawke and Fenris
“RAAAWWWRRRR!” Garrett lunged at the two boys with his arms outstretched, a broad smile across his face. They were long overdue for a bath, and it was his turn to haul them in for a cleaning. Tarin and Kristofer led him on a chase around the mansion, ducking under tables and sliding around tight corners, laughing the entire way.
Garrett had just pulled the two of them up by their collars when he heard his name come from the balcony. Fenris stood frowning down at them from the top of the stairs with their five-year-old, Lily. She had her little hand wrapped around his finger while the other sleepily grasped on to her doll. They’d just finished their reading, but Lily was meant to be asleep.
Garrett straightened and cleared his throat. The boys were old enough to know when to call it quits; Hawke gave them the final word anyway. “Enough of that now. Let’s wash up and let your sister sleep.”
He grinned apologetically and shuffled the boys off to their bath, blowing his daughter a good-night kiss before leaving the room.
daficswap reblogged
My @daficswap for @definitelyallergictohalla happy holidays!
daficswap reblogged
@dinah-myles
Happy Holidays, hope you enjoy this!
daficswap reblogged
Gift Fic [DA Holiday Fic Swap]
@urrsari Thank you so much for the use of your OC… I hope I did her justice. Enjoy your holiday! :) Thank you to @daficswap for putting on this event!
It’s cold outside, but Ryvka doesn’t feel it. Her face feels hot and sweat beads against her collar. She has to get out.
Along the battlements, she takes long strides through the snow. She doesn’t have a destination, but the ember in her guts won’t let her rest. So many details… so many possibilities… so many facets to manage… and any one of a million intricacies that could go wrong.
She breathes in staccato huffs–wisps of rapidly-crystallizing air blur her vision. It’s better; she’d rather not see. She closes her eyes and feels the air fill her lungs: 1, 2, 3…
“Remember your exercises?” asks a voice.
She blinks. “Yes, Solas.”
He smiles, but doesn’t come any closer. They have the kind of student-teacher relationship that never crosses the professional. In fact, Ryvka never exactly knows where she stands with him. Nevertheless, she finds his advice useful. She has ever since the Inquisition’s inception back in Haven.
“What are you doing out here?” asks Ryvka.
One corner of his mouth turns up and he looks like he’s going to answer, but like so many times before, he shrugs–an insouciant movement that creates more mystery instead of dissuading it.
Ryvka smiles despite herself.
“The same as you, I’d imagine,” says Solas.
Ryvka nods. In the months since they came to Skyhold, they’ve caught glimpses of each other across the courtyard or exchanged looks from opposite sides of the library. Being alone is a part of their lives. For Ryvka, it always has been.
“Were you always like this?” she asks suddenly.
Solas squints consideringly. “Define this.”
“Did you always need to be alone?”
He nods. “Yes. But there were many periods in my life when it was impossible.”
They sigh together.
“Which is where you are now, isn’t it, Inquisitor?” asks Solas. He’s still staring off into the horizon.
Now it’s Ryvka who shrugs. Insouciance is catching, she thinks, and almost smiles. It’s amazing, actually… just a few minutes ago she was suffocating–leaving her friends, and even Cullen, in favor of journeying out here into the cold. The desperation is like that sometimes: all-encompassing, engrossing, overwhelming.
…except now it isn’t. Why is that?
“Solas?” says Ryvka suddenly. “Do you think people can change?”
Solas turns his head to look at her–eyes dark and mouth pulling up at its edges. “In my experience no one ever changes; everyone is the copy of someone else… a mask of a face I used to know.”
Ryvka nods. “I think I’m changing, just the same.” She looks down at the anchor; a knot forms in her stomach. Responsibility.
In the months since this all began, Ryvka has changed. She knows it in her gut. She sees it in the way she grits her teeth and charges into battle. She feels it when she does what she knows she must, even if it hurts. She hears it in her voice–confidant and clear, even when she’s scared. And, most of all, she knows it because right now she doesn’t want to go back into that crowded, hot space… but she’s going to. And once she’s there, she’ll laugh and smile, and do exactly what she must… because there’s no one else who can. The anchor glimmers–as if it’s silently reacting to her resolve.
They stand in silence for a long time–it could be two minutes or ten.
“Are you ready to go back?” asks Solas.
Ryvka looks up. “Are you?”
Solas smiles. “No, but we do what we must.”
Ryvka nods, flexing her jaw and straightening her spine. “Let’s go,” she says. “And… thanks, Solas.”