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Tarot card for Mahariel
My beautiful Lina who sacrifised herself in the end :”)
🌙 "I'll sew my own dang dress" solavellan enjoy🌙
It is Lavellan's idea of a compromise: she'll use the same colours and fabrics, but she will not be caught in dress blues and riding boots.
"Elgar'nan did not give me the shoulders for that."
Elgar'nan gave you nothing, he wants to tell her. Nothing but blood and murder and deceit. Your people do not call him the god of vengeance for his gifts.
Instead, once they're alone, after they bathed and he rubs lavender oil into the skin of her back, he tells her with teasing touches how she was given wide, soft hips, a narrow waist, a supple bottom and round breasts and to dress them however she likes. Let them know it was a Dalish Elf who saved their Empress, though he does not get to finish the sentence before she is on her knees between his thighs and his hands in her hair.
She insists on sewing her robes by herself. She sucks at her teeth with her tongue as she lays out the heavy, bright red velveteen, the blue silk and golden brocade, lambswool dyed a muted, almost muddy brown.
"Do you require assistance?" He knows she doesn't, but her annoyance at the fabrics roll off of her like thunderclouds that crinkle the pages of his book.
"You'd think three shem nobles who busy three runners all day everyday for three weeks could settle on a colour scheme that doesn't look like the remains of a bluebird caught by a wolf. Or one that doesn't make me resemble a washed-out bog corpse."
"I do not believe the Spymaster is of nobility, vhenan." When he looks over the edge of his book, Lavellan frowns at his wry smile.
"She spent enough time at court; might as well be." She sighs as she gets up from the ground, steps around the yards of cloth and walks over to pick up her haphazard sketches; those she dreams up on the roads, then turns into reality in the hold.
In another world, she might have been the most prolific seamstress in the empire. Every day, one of the Evanuris would have sent for her, for her inspired clothing concepts. He himself would have dressed her in fabrics brighter than the whites of her eyes, magic woven into the threads that her clothes may as well have had minds of their own.
In this world, however, he must content himself with watching her squatted over the floor, muttering in fragmented elvhen as she transfers the scribbles onto the fabric with chalk and then cutting with a dull blade.
"But no. I don't need your assistance. Thank you, though." She holds him by a shoulder, presses a kiss into his scalp as she walks past, kneels back down.
"If it's any consolation: You do not look like a washed-out bog corpse in your nightgown."
"That's because its a muted burgundy satin nightgown, and not apple-red velveteen," she does not even look up from her transferred lines, "and you don't see me wearing it much anyway. If anything, you spend more time taking it off of me than viewing me in it." The hint of red on her eartips matches his.
"I see a lot more than you think." A hiss, she wets her thumb and forefinger with her tongue and scrubs at the velveteen until the line can be redrawn. "I did not take it off last night, did I?"
She barks out a laugh.
"Fair."
She does ask his assistance, eventually, to hold the fabric taut behind her and mark off where to trim so the dress sat on her the way she wanted it to.
He excuses his poor lines by her naked back beneath his fingers, a glimpse of her bare chest through the mirror as she pulls at the neckline just a little too harshly.
"You are a master with fabric, my heart." His breath makes her shiver, though he knows it's not from the cold. The knot in her hair unravels over his shoulder as she leans back.
"I know. But do shower me in compliments, if you please."
"It is a rather heavy fabric, compared to what you prefer to use," he thinks back on silk and satin, chiffon and muslin, "but you make it look like barely more than tulle and the sky at sundown over the coast. I try to imagine what you could do, given enough time and the fabric you wanted, and I fall utterly short."
Loose, flowing chiffon, he thinks, a high, snug waist, a low, deep neckline, decorated straps that hold or hide nothing. The fine gold jewellery she prefers. Though, in his mind, there is only the feeling and vague, blurry patterns of what he knows to sit inside Lavellan's head with perfect clarity.
It makes sense they would find each other in this life, he half-thinks. Artists flock together. Like moths to flame, no matter the medium, his mother would say to him, deep purple smudged over her nose and in her hair.
He drops the velveteen unceremoniously. Their eyes meet through the mirror, and she does not cover up. Unashamed, as she should be.
"Also, if you look like a washed-out bog corpse in bright red, what chance do I have?" He pokes her ribs with a finger; the tannest part of him against the palest part of her, and yet, if they were trees, she would be rosewood and he birch. She snorts.
"Don't they say being pale means you never had to work a day in your life? Looks like you lived the good life, once, wherever your village is." She reaches for him blindly, backwards, one hand on his chin, the other playing at his waist. Her fingers twist underneath his tunic.
"I said it was a small, boring village, not a poor one." Solas kisses her neck, and his fingers crawl around her waist, dig into the flesh of her belly, just a little, before he tears himself away. "I shall let you get back to it. I do not wish to be at fault if you have to appear naked before the Empress."
Lavellan swats at him, laughing, slipping back into leggings and breastband and measuring out grommet holes to his sloppy lining.
Still, before she forces scissor points through the fabric, even before he returns to his spot in the corner of the settee, in front of the fireplace and behind his book.
"Vhenan?"
"Yes, my heart?" No reply, so he turns over the back of his seat.
She looks so small, so young, and yet so wise and confident and larger-than-life.
If anyone should be revered as a living deity, it should be her, right now, with the dark rings under her eyes and the messy hair and the animal hair on her clothes.
"You make me so happy. I don't think I could do this - any of it - without you."
She walks up and grasps his outreached hand like it was all she was ever made to do.
"Don't sell yourself short. All you did, you achieved of your own efforts." He turns her hand, kisses her palm. "Though it does make me happy to hear it; that my presence fulfills you as much as yours does me."
She leans over to him and kisses him, and it takes everything in him to not pull her over the back and into his arms.
"I'm trying to be sweet, and sincere, and you just unpack your eloquence and outdo me." There is no bite in the retort.
"I thought you wished me to shower you in compliments."
He does not have to pull. She climbs over the back of his seat.
"You, my love, may shower me in whatever you wish."
His book only narrowly misses the fire in the hearth.
but also another fic on ao3 [love song for the admiral / cullen x josie] where josie contemplates on the dress blues and i was ALSO like 👀 i see you the inquisition should be a visually joined force
🌙
inspired by a fic on ao3 im reading [the truths between / solavellan] where they put lavellan in a gown and i was like 👀 i see you lavellan should be in a gown
so im about to put lavellan in a gown in red, blue, gold and brown, even though there's only two people in the inquisition who can wear that colour combo and its josie and cully wully :)
then just the usual they horn knee for each other kaboodle dont @ me
Tessata Amell
Birthday gift for @froshas
Stupid google requests
is there any point in having sex for the first time if i'm 28 years old
pum pum pum tututu grrrraaaaa what a spell
why Lagerfeld died and my grandfather not yet
how to live with the name Igor
funny pranks with napalm
what does it mean if the kombucha growls
bald charlatan's punishment 18+
Kost Adaar special for DragonAgeDay c:
I regret not sleeping until 7 AM... I also don't like drawing or sharing game art 😕 However, I literally had to start over three times to get closer to the result I wanted, so... Here I am 😕 #dragonage #dragonageart #dorianpavus #pencildrawing #pencilsketch #pencilart #portrait #portraitsketch #sketch #sketchbook #sketching #doodle #doodling https://www.instagram.com/p/BuJDmWzljbe/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=i8c7gkxaepco
But you would do this to yourself? I cannot bear to think of you alone.
Day 6 - Loneliness
Damn it! We saved Ferelden, and they're angry! We saved Orlais, and they're angry! We closed the Breach — twice! — and my own hand wants to kill me! COULD ONE THING IN THIS F*CKING WORLD JUST STAY FIXED?
My Inquisitor Lavellan cosplay - Dragon Age: Inquisition
Ph. by nerina_photo
via Gridllr.com — an Archive of all your Likes!
Shizuka Cousland.
Full Name:
Shizuka Cousland.
Nickname/Alias:
Lady, Lady Cousland, Lady Shizuka, Ice lady, Yukion'na, Shirayuki-hime.
Meaning:
Shizuka:
Quiet, Summer, Fragrance.
Yukion'na:
Snow Woman.
Shirayuki-Hime:
Snow White.
Title:
Lady, Warden, Lady Warden, Shirayuki, Shirayuki-Hime, Shizu.
Pet Name:
Pup, Ice Lady, Hime.
Gender Role:
More lady-like than anything. But, she has her moments.
Class:
Enchanted Warrior
Sheild and sword.
Orientation:
Straight.
Real Age:
Depends on the place and time.
Age Appearance:
17-20.
Birthday:
August, 24th.
Birthplace:
High Ever.
Zodiac Sign:
Virgo.
Immediate Family:
Father:
Bryce Cousland.
Mother: Eleanor Mac Eanraig.
Brother: Fergus Cousland
Sister in law: Oriana.
Nephew: Oren Cousland.
Ethnicity:
Alamarri and a Fereldan.
Eye Colour:
Crystal blue.
Hair Colour:
White-Silver, with a blue Tint in it.
Hairstyle:
You would think her hair was easy to tame, but it wasn’t. She has thick hair and while it was still straight and seemed to look neat, Shizuka always had a hard to taming it into the usaul hairstyle. It was down, never tied up so what could be hard about that. Right? you would be surprised to know how many tugs is there. Brushing it into a neat place and leaving it was the hard part mostly, unlike most nobles who move there hair into buns or braids. She preferred it down and long, at least to her hips. Her bangs were combed to both ends, right and left. Leaving the centre of her forehead and face to be seen.
Makeup:
Her lips are painted red or pink, depending on her mood or how they got up. There was no need to put anything on her face really, she was perfect the way she is and her mother believed that woman should wear less than more when it comes to make up. She did, have some silver eye shadow as well. It was barely seen though.
Appearance:
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Body Type:
Athletic, but looks fragile from the first glance.
Build:
Petite looking, but well built for a women.
Birthmarks/scars:
There was a birth mark, of two eagles on her right shoulder, her twin has it as well.
Distinguishing Features:
Her pure white hair, pale skin and blue eyes.
Posture:
Lady-like.
Scent:
No one can place her scene, but apparently it’s a flower called Andraste’s Grace.
Heroes:
Mother and Father, Though recently it was the Grey Wardens.
Pets/Familiars:
A wolf, Though for this it is going to be like a normal dog, able to withstand the Taint.
Wardrobe examples:
F-o-r-m-a-l. O-u-t-f-i-t-s. B-a-l-l-r-o-o-m. O-u-t-f-i-t-s. F-i-g-h-t-i-n-g. O-u-t-f-i-t-s. C-a-s-u-a-l O-u-t-f-i-t-s. D-a-n-c-i-n-g. O-u-t-f-i-t-s. N-i-g-h-t w-e-a-r.
Equipment:
-Family sword.
-Sword level one.
-Sword level two.
-Sword level three.
-Cousland Shield.
-Shield level one.
-Shield level two.
-Shield level three.
Accessories:
-Locket.
-Family Ring with the crest on it.
-Magic book
-Journal/Diary.
-The crest of the Cousland family.
Element:
Water.
Biggest Failure:
Letting the people she loved die alone, even at all. Her life was always about them and how she would bring her people up as a heir. At least, they told her as much. If she didn’t then her brother would. Even then, they would have found someone willing to marry her anyway.
Secrets:
As a young girl she wished to be free, never to hold herself back. Her family always knew she wanted to be free and wander like her brother did. However, due to her class he was forced to ignore that and grow up. But, in there group she fears that her secret love for freedom might come out. A witch who has been free since a child, A sister who choose her path and lived with it, Even there Assassin friend made her wonder. No one like her should even be thinking of that, but she did.
Hobbies/Interests:
Writing in her journal and diary, by herself, Walking in the forest alone or with someone, Watching the night sky, singing, Dancing, writing poems, horse riding.
Skills/Talents:
-There is a small part of magic in her, but not enough to call it dangerous. I’m trying something new with this, so I hope you will accept this part- She is NOT a full blood mage. -Casting without her hands. -Making her magic flow into her weapons. -Knowing different herbs, poisons. -Cooking. -Flower Arranging. -Can work with a shield, but she choose a smaller one than most.
Likes:
Singing, Dancing, Children, Animals, her brother, Alistair, morrigan, Writing poems, Cooking, Night walks.
Dislikes:
People treating Elves, Servants or anyone of low class bad, Her title coming up, talking about the past, howe.
Pet Peeves:
-The Servants being treated badly. -Someone giving up with not say in the matter. -Pointless talk. -Bringing up the past. -Judging someone for no reason.
Personality Detailed:
Personality:
Intelligent
The Virgo are an intelligent lot, who would love to know about various subjects and increase their general knowledge.
Practical They don’t believe in living in the fantasy world and will be very much in touch with the reality. Their practical approach is one of their biggest strength.
Analytical The Virgo possess an analytical mind and see things in black and white. They are capable of producing a clear analysis and thereby a solution of even the most complicated problems.
Reliable You can trust a Virgo for following the instructions and trying his best to do the job well. Besides, he is a rational person and would not let emotions affect his decisions.
Modest Since they are goal-oriented, perfectionists, rational and reliable, it is very likely that they are great achievers too. But you will rarely see them boasting about their accomplishments. Overcritical They have such a clear picture in their minds as to how things should be, the Virgo tend to be overcritical and lose the plot in the process. Fussy The Virgo-born often get lost in details and they will not have a peace of mind till they resolve all the issues. Besides, their strong likes and dislikes make them quiet fussy. Fastidious Pleasing or impressing a Virgo is tough job, as anything less perfect (in their eyes) does not make the cut. Harsh They call a spade a spade and they don’t sugar-coat their opinions before putting them across. Their harshness does not always go down well with the people around them.
Conservative The Virgo are conservative and won’t readily accept modern ideas. Maybe it has to do with their need to test the waters and be sure of the outcome.
Judgemental
The Virgo-born are criticised for being judgemental. They cannot ignore faults and mistakes as anything less than perfect is not good enough for them.
Symbol:
Cousland Crest.
Vice:
Chastity.
Virtue:
envy.
Background.
The outpost of Highever was originally a bannorn and was held by the Elstan family, who was a secondary branch of the then-freeholder family of Howes. During the Towers Age, Bann Conobar Elstan was murdered by his wife, Flemeth, thus ending the bloodline. Sarim Cousland, the captain of Conobar’s guard, took the lands and title. The Couslands declared their independence from Amaranthine, starting a war that lasted thirty years. When the war ended, Highever won its independence and possession of half the land that had once been southwestern Amaranthine. Highever became a teyrnir during the Black Age. Previously, the Couslands held only the minor title of Bann. During the lycanthrope plague, Bann Haelia Cousland[1] or Mather Cousland[2] according to other sources, gathered the lords together under the Cousland banner to drive the werewolves out of their lands, thus earning the title of Teyrn. Calenhad Theirin was born in Highever in 5:10 Exalted as the third son of a poor merchant. He left at a young age to become a squire, but returned during the Unification of Ferelden as a Teyrn. The contemporary ruler of Highever was Teyrna Elethea Cousland; She fought the soon-to-be-King Calenhad in an attempt to maintain Highever’s independence, and so when Calenhad’s army reached Highever, Teyrna Elethea led the local banns against him, but lost against the future king. After Elethea’s men were defeated, Calenhad asked her to swear fealty. She did, thus allowing the Couslands to retain the teyrnir in Calenhad’s new kingdom.[2] In the beginning of the Storm Age, the Couslands conspired with Warden-Commander Sophia Dryden in the Grey Wardens’ attempted rebellion. The rebellion was betrayed to King Arland by politicians before it began, and the king’s guard ambushed their meeting place, with the rebels barely managing to escape. The Couslands were not so lucky, however. King Arland executed the Cousland Teyrn and a number of others, and then sent soldiers to Soldier’s Peak to stamp out the remainder of the rebellion. During the rebellion against Orlais, the Couslands opposed the Orlesian rule. However, Arl Tarleton Howe of Amaranthine supported the Orlesians and this resulted in several bitter battles between Amaranthine and Highever. Eventually, the Couslands manage to capture Harper’s Ford and hang Tarleton Howe for his treachery. Unlike his father, Rendon Howe was part of the rebellion like his uncle Arl Byron Howe. Rendon and Bryce Cousland fought beside each other at the battle of White River, becoming two of the fifty rebels who survived the defeat. Thereafter, Arl Rendon Howe was a great friend of the Couslands. Arl Howe later betrayed the Couslands, using the chaos of the Fifth Blight as his route to power. Teyrn Cousland had called together the forces of Highever and Amaranthine, intending to ride with Howe to support King Cailan against the darkspawn. However, upon arriving at Highever, Arl Howe told Teyrn Cousland that the Amaranthine forces would be delayed for a few of days. Not one to keep the King waiting, Teyrn Cousland sent the bulk of Highever’s forces ahead to Ostagar under the command of his eldest son Fergus Cousland, intending to leave with Howe’s Amaranthine men once they arrived. After Fergus left the castle, Howe’s forces took advantage of the Couslands’ weakened defense and made a surprise attack during the night, killing the teyrn, his wife Teyrna Eleanor Cousland, and Fergus’ wife Oriana and son Oren, as well as most of the other inhabitants of the castle. Though Fergus was left as the rightful heir to the Teyrnir of Highever, Howe then declared himself the new teyrn. Eventually, however, Duncan will rescue the human noble from the surprise attack on Castle Cousland in exchange for joining the Grey Wardens. Following the end of the Fifth Blight, Fergus Cousland will inherit Highever and become the next Teyrn. Fergus will also be given control of Amaranthine, which he presents to the Grey Wardens.
Theme song:
About Me
Welcome To My Blog!
Here, I write stories, make imagines and make Dragon Age Scenarios, feel free to ask me questions! I also draw in my free time.
I Do:
Dragon Age Origins
Dragon Age 2
Dragon Age: Inquisition
And
Red Dead Redemption 2
I Do:
NSFW
Gore (Not Exaggerated )
No Incest
No Pedophilia
No Alpha/Omega Stuff
Feel Free To Ask!
I draw this portrait of Grey Warden for my very good friend @muljean ^-^
"His friend had to die, because he thought they were people. A slow arrow breaks in the sad wolf's jaws".
