Ceremorph0sis - Just An Astral Touched Tadfool

Viola and Caius Dellamorte

who are you dancing with at the flower dance

READ READ READ READ READ WOMEN I LVOVE WOMEN WHU IS CASSANDRA STRAIGHT ***READ PLEASE***

10/10 made a man cry. And that man...was a Monk (sad cowboy hat emoji)

To Touch the Sun authors note: I wanted to write sad lesbian inquisitor fic for a specific audience (me) for a game that is 10 years old, enjoy! < 1k female inquisitor x cassanda tags: yearning, unrequited love/feelings, religion mention

I never believed in a higher power. But now, as I stand behind you on the balcony, the sun settling into the lines of your scars, Maker, take me—I want to meet your eyes the way you meet mine.

You cursed me at first; you blamed me for her death and all of your suffering, yet even as I was your prisoner, I couldn't hate you. Trying to ignore you was like trying to ignore the sun. Even if I was blind, I could still feel your heat, the beams of light dancing across my skin. Your presence was everywhere, forcing its way through the cracks of my heart, making me believe there could be something more each time you say 'we' or 'us.' The Inquisition, being your Herald, I told myself I could maybe believe in the Maker if you were standing there beside me.

Back at Haven, I watch as you, again, sharpen your sword, steel shavings falling and staining your trousers, your whetstone scraping against the blade, again and again. I watch, mesmerized by your calm confidence, no arrogance to be found. I wonder what sort of woman you are when you aren't sharpening yourself, the blade of your mouth sharper than any weapon. I wonder if you realize how your presence is hotter than any forge.

You learned to trust me, a woman of no standing, with decisions greater than any I have ever known. You prop me up, light my path when I feel like the darkness of the Fade will consume me; you turn my head up from the ground to face the road ahead with dignity and strength I didn't even know I had.

It's hard not to love everything about you as much as you try to force everyone away. Your orthodoxy, your tradition. It should have turned me away like it has turned many others away. Your dedication to the Maker grounds you, and yet you will never know how those same roots have woven tendrils into my heart. You are so rooted to your ways, so assured of what is right, your ideals toeing the line of bigotry. But I am blind to all of your flaws, maybe not blinded, but accepting. Because the sum of all your qualities draws me in instead, a glow from inside you that cannot repulse me no matter how different we are.

You say as the right hand of the Divine, you give, you take, you make a fist to be the enforcer. But who stands beside you at your right hand? Do you know how badly I want to take your fist and soothe your bruises? Kiss the scrapes of your knuckles and feel the calluses of your sacrifices against my face?

You don't need protection. Your guard is up to all, not just me. Yet, I daydream more than I should, much more than I ought to. Feeling the crushing weight of never knowing what it could be like to soothe your aches, to hold your heart in mine, to tell you that I can take your pain away. Will you ever know me?

I feel the ache grow each passing day, your attention never drifting, Maker, how I wish it could drift to me. Another battle comes and goes, metal against metal, and I watch as you carve out your place and our destiny in this chaotic world.

As strong as you are, you are not immune to suffering, to pain. I see it in the flash of your eyes as you speak quietly about your brother. And for all of your muscle and discipline, you still are flesh. You can be cut down just as anyone. In those moments, as I push a flask of potion to your lips, all I can think about is how I wish I was made of glass so I could be the one to give you the kiss of life that keeps you tethered to this earth, to me.

I am no worshiper of the Maker, but Maker, take me, the void that lives in me where religion should be; when I look at you, you make me truly believe in the Sunburst throne. You draw me to my knees, like a page from the Chant; you turn me from skeptic to devout; your light is a balm to my weary, tired soul, outshining the anchor in my hand.

When I finally tell you how I feel, you are flattered of course. But you are swift and polite in your rejection. Like most things, you treat my confession in your own pragmatic way, which I've come to love to hate, cutting my feelings off quickly and cauterizing them so there's no chance of them growing back again. I try to tell myself it was nothing but harmless flirting; it meant nothing, and I can return to simply being your friend, the one that teases and pushes, the one who doesn't take anything seriously, the one who can get over my little crush. But as I turn away, my humiliation is fresh, a raw, open wound that makes it impossible to believe that it won't ever stop the scalding ache that lives in me now.

Maybe the distance you've given me now is a small mercy; you're giving me a chance to realize nothing can happen, to return to my work, and to be the Herald you believe I am. And that's all I can do, return and play my part for you, always being in your orbit, but never being able to venture nearer again out of my predetermined path. I should have known not to try to reach out and touch the sun. Because, in the end, I have nothing but a burn to show for it. 

Now her hand is raised A sword to pierce the sun With iron shield she defends the faithful Let chaos be undone —Victoria 1:3

header/divider credit to @saradika !

OC Meme: Savar Mercar

(I wasn't tagged, I just wanted to participate ^_^)

GENERAL

Name: Savar'inan Mercar

Alias(es): Rook, SJ, Savar

Gender: Nonbinary

Pronouns: Any

Age: 25 (As of 9:52 Dragon)

Place of birth: Free Marches Tevinter (Or so they were told)

Spoken languages: Trade, Elven, a bit of Tevene (mostly swear words)

Sexual orientation: Demiromantic Asexual

Occupation: Trained as a bard in order to join the Shadow Dragons when their childhood dream of becoming a Crow was shattered by their father. (Long story, but I'm gonna write a fic about it)

FAVOURITE

Color: Blue

Entertainment: Playing the lute (it was their favorite part of bard training)

Pastime: Reading about elven culture. They didn't grow up Dalish, and their parents were humans, so it was the best way they could think of to find some sort of connection to their heritage.

Food: Most breads and cheeses (or anything Lucanis is cooking)

Drink: Antivan hot chocolate (It's just better there... for some reason)

Books: Anything on elven culture. Or dragons, those are cool too.

HAVE THEY

Passed university: Nope. Most of their magic training came from their parents, and all other academic subjects were homeschooled.

Had sex: No.

Had Sex in Public: Very No.

Gotten tattoos: Oh yes. So many. Usually to mark important events in their life, but one was because of a crush. (Surprisingly, not Lucanis)

Gotten piercings: Nope! Not against them, just never got around to it.

Had a broken heart: Not romantically, but their friendship breakup with Tarquin hurt a lot more than they were willing to admit at the time.

Been in love: Just with Lucanis.

ARE THEY

A cuddler: Absolutely. Much to the delight of their favorite touch-starved Crow. They both sleep better in each other's arms.

Scared easily: Depends! Of cultists and blight? Nope. Of spiders and snakes? Yes, very much so.

Jealous easily: A little. Savar doesn't think they're easily jealous until they see someone else flirting with Lucanis and then it's like "Oh... Oh I don't like this feeling at all..."

Trustworthy: Depends on who you ask. (Just don't ask Tarquin and the answer is yes.)

FAMILY

Sibling(s): None. They are, however, related to the Inquisitor without either of their knowledge (for now). Dorian is technically their cousin-in-law.

Parents: The Mercar parents think Savar is dead. After the job in Nessus forced them into hiding, they were told they could never go back home, and have had no contact (aside from the odd covert observation from afar) with their parents since. They send anonymous gold home when they can, as an apology.

Children: Hell no.

Pets: Eventually (post-game) they adopt a mabari with Lucanis. He is their child. (Debating them also adopting a wyvern because the image of a baby wyvern snuggled up to a mabari warms my heart)

GORGEOUS????????? The composition of this piece makes me wanna scream in the best way possible

My Rook & Inquisitor about to crack an egghead in Veilguard.

ACE BG3 BABES WE FEAST AGAIN. 🚨🚨🚨🚨

Gale with an Ace!Tav (Part 2)

[Part 1]

Still thinking about Gale with an Ace!Tav.

After their night together, intertwining their spirits in the weave, Tav is elated to fall asleep in Gale's tent rather than their own. Being with him in the weave was strangely satisfying, in a way. They had no idea magic could do such a thing. And if it was something that Gale enjoyed as much as 'the old ways', then as far as Tav was concerned, everything was perfect.

They make their relationship official the next morning. Many grueling days in the shadow-cursed lands often left him with very little magic to spare, but Tav assured him they were delighted to simply enjoy his company. Their nights spend reading together and falling asleep in each others arms were just as important to them as the ones spent in the astral form. He becomes the one silver lining in their otherwise bleak endeavor.

One such night, after reaching the city and finding the Annals of Karsus as Gale requested, they return to the Astral Plane. This time, in a rowboat meant to bring peace and comfort, instead of passion and satisfaction.

Gale lays everything out plainly before him. His desire to claim the crown and become the best version of himself. The version that Tav deserves.

They try their best to convince him he doesn't need to become a God to earn their admiration, but Gale disagrees. If he was already enough for them, then why have they never spent the night together outside of the astral form?

Several emotions come crashing down around Tav at once when they realize their mistake. Keeping the truth from Gale had only made him feel unworthy. He felt that he had no choice but to 'wow' them, rather than woo them.

All this time, Tav thought they needed to find a compromise to hide their true feelings, while Gale had been trying to impress them with his mastery of the weave to hide his own.

If there was ever a time to tell him, this was it.

Taking both of his hands, Tav offers their explanation. Gale isn't exactly familiar with the concept of asexuality, but he's nothing if not open to learning new things.

He listens patiently as they explain the reason why their relationship has been strictly romantic, and why their previous 'encounters' had been exclusively incorporeal. They explain how he is already enough, and apologize for not telling him sooner.

All of Gale's thoughts of godhood are replaced with shock and surprise from their mutual misunderstanding. In turn, he explains his own feelings on the subject, all but outright stating that his relationship with Mystra was also incorporeal, and he feared Tav's eventual rejection in much the same way.

"I'm so sorry I made you feel that way. I promise, you're more to me than magic, Gale. You're already everything I need you to be."

He finally understands. The calm of the astral sea is nothing compared to the relief they each feel in their hearts.

All Tav can do is smile, and kiss him.

Come what may of their adventure, at least they still have Gale.

The transphobic comments b like “oughhhhhh mental illness!!!! ur mutilating yuor body!!!!!!1!!!” and honestly I hope that OP is living his best life, albeit for a very petty reason among others… 1. Because he seems lovely and is very talented and creative and 2. The happier you are, the more it pisses off the people who hate you LMAO.

I hope that OP is getting bitches of his preferred gender (or no bitches at all if that’s his style) left and right and that for every day he’s living their best life high life, the nasty little terriers barking at him continue pissing themselves about his existence until they eventually explode in furry balls of rage 💖💖💖

kintsukuroi, "to repair with gold"; understanding the piece is more beautiful for having been broken

a personal piece i used my body as reference 😵‍💫

Gale: I'M GONNA FUCK THAT LIZARD

I’M GONNA FUCK THAT WIZARD

Romanticizing act one pinning like it’s my full time job