Quick question before ya start with the talkin’ thing.”

               “—-Does it look like I got the time 
                 or patience for tomfoolery today?” 

You always have time for tomfoolery when it involves a free drink."


        And with that, a glass magically appears in front of Tara.
    With a thump,
                  and an incredulous expression from her companion.


"Unfortunate? I think he wears it well. Especially on the hand."


"And I do. Because Pan catches liars sooner or later."

"Ah, the elusive ‘Pan’ again. I’m beginning to wonder if he’s simply a figure of your imagination."

For You, I’ll Live | Faerys + Amelia


Amelia heard the sigh almost immediately and she turned to see Hawke walking towards her. She offered her as warm a smile as she could muster while her hands were busy making sure the bacon didn’t stick to the pan. As Hawke went behind her to put her arms around her waist, Amelia felt herself close her eyes for a moment as Hawke peppered her neck with soft kisses. She put her spatula down for a moment to place her hand on the woman’s cheek, looking up at her with kind eyes. She got up on her toes to give her a small peck on the lips before resuming her cooking. The fear in Hawke’s eyes was fading but Amelia could see it as clear as the morning sun. She understood then just how fragile Hawke’s perception had become in such a short time.

"I’m sorry if I worried you," she said, "I just wanted to make you something substantial to eat. It looks like you haven’t been taking care of yourself these past few days, non? Bodahn and I re-arranged your desk to the letters are in order. The manor is slowly getting to a place where I want it. I’ll fix it, Hawke.”

She was overtaken by the compulsion to settle the nerves of the woman standing behind her. Amelia, as was her habit, blamed herself for everything was out in force to try and make up for any wrongs that may have befallen Hawke because of her own miscalculation. There was a lot she wanted to apologize for but she couldn’t quite organize her thoughts enough. She didn’t know where to stop and, if she started, she didn’t know where it would end. She closed her eyes to clear her thoughts before setting back to work and placing the bacon on the plates. Everything else had been finished before Hawke had woken up. Bread was purchased from the closest baker so that it would still be warm and there was already water waiting in a jug for Hawke to pour herself a glass. Chilled with magic, as had become the norm in their house.

Amelia picked up the plate of bacon and moved towards the kitchen table. All at the same time the other plates she had set in the center prep table of the kitchen rose up slightly and began to follow her. She was determined to be a picture of efficiency even with one hand. By that time, the dwarves in the house were used to seeing Amelia using her magic mundanely. Plates floating towards the table so she didn’t have to carry them all was nothing new and they made sure to catch them as they glided down so they could be set in their proper place. Amelia put the bacon down on the breakfast table in the kitchen and motioned for Hawke to take a seat.

"There’s a lot I want to do still. I want to go back to the hut of the woman who saved me but I know it would be unwise to do so now," she sighed, "The place is probably crawling with Templars, tu vois? I can only hope that she is okay. But you will go with me someday, yes? Perhaps she’ll still be there. I need to thank her properly. Ah, and I need to visit Sparrow. I need to…..apologize to her. What I put her through was……..- I should not have brought her with us."

She thought that perhaps she shouldn’t have brought any of them with her or maybe she shouldn’t have bothered with it at all. Amelia wondered whether or not it was the right thing to do. Terrible acts were stopped in their tracks and people were saved but red flags had been raised at the same time. Security was going to be at an all time high and suspicion would only brew strong and grow more deep seated within the people. She felt like she had accomplished nothing, only put the people she loved in danger. It felt pathetic.

Before she could wallow any further, as if on queue, she felt a tuft of fur brush against her ankle. She looked down to see a small black cat looking up at her. She smiled and reached down, picking up the cat and placing it on her lap. Not quite large enough to be an adult but no longer small enough to be considered a kitten, Roland curled up into a ball and promptly went back to sleep on Amelia’s lap.

"Roland," she said softly, "You’re growing up so fast, petite.” 

It came with no small amount of guilt to glance around and see that indeed; the manor was on its way to being somewhat more tidy than she had left it despite her request that Bodahn only clean up the most freshly broken glass. There were no more bottles left idly on every surface (and she wondered then, on looking back, exactly how even she had gotten through so many in such a short time — perhaps it was a blessing that her insides had survived with no more than a particularly long drawn out hangover) and there was no… debris scattered about the floor. Evidence of the ink pot shattered against wooden floor was nowhere to be seen, not even a faint black mark left on the porous surface.

There was a reson she had wanted to clean it up herself, and she gave a small sigh. She was not the invalid here, and she had no right to pretend so. It ached at her heart to hear the plea in Amelia’s voice. I’ll fix it . As though she had broken anything in the first place.Fae’s mind almost set to recounting the past few days, remembering her own faults as though making herself feel more guilty to match Amelia’s would right things but she was dragged back by the collar with the scent of that bacon. It was done, and her stomach rumbled. I forgot I haven’t eaten in days. 

She sat at her place as the food was placed in front of her and she barely let it sit more than a second before she was stuck in. Despite the speed with which she ate, her mother had for years insisted on proper table manners just as hard as she had insisted that Hawke speak properly, and while elbows on the table was certainly something Leandra had not fixed, proper utensil etiquette had. And she was working on not speaking with her mouth full (she rarely spoke at all when she was eating, for at that point there was clearly far more important things to be doing with her mouth).

At the mention of Sparrow, however, Hawke’s heart sank. She had been in the midst of her alcohol binge when the pair had visited, though not so far for her to become docile, nor so far that she would lose her memory of it (more’s the pity). She remembered her aggression, she remembered how she had insulted them. She remembered how she had deflected her guilt, thrust it upon them acting as though they had no right to come to her, that they had no right to grieve. You’ve still got yours! Her best friends, she had pushed them away when she needed them most, and she could only hope that they would not hold it against her now that all she could do was apologise. 

She didn’t share any of this with Amelia, however. The woman’s own guilt was clear, and Hawke had become skilled at spotting the behaviour of a guilty person having spent years with her own. She would not allow Amelia to soak up what had been her doing and blame it on herself, no matter what the greater cause had been that made her act so vilely towards her friends. So she changed the subject, as she was apt to do.

"Very soon we are going to have a house full of cats,” she said between mouthfuls. As she spoke, she reached over to the empty glasses and tipped up the water jug, filling a portion for each of them before setting it on the table. One arm lay flat on the table while the other was propped up by her elbow holding her glass as she spoke. “I don’t know about you but… I think that might be too much. We can’t take them to that shelter though. It’s an awful place. Anders might take one or two. Perhaps Sparrow might take one? Every mage should have a cat after all, that’s what all the stories say, and you already have yours.”

She grinned, gesturing to the kitten that lay in her lap. Hawke had never been one with such a fondness for animals aside from the horse they had had back in Lothering. She was not against them either, however, and the way Amelia acted with them had never failed to bring a smile to her face.


[[I’m gonna do it I’m gonna get my OC up and running after work. HERK. GONNA DO IT.]]

22 hours ago     REBLOG

For You, I’ll Live | Faerys + Amelia


"Happily," she replied.

By pure miracle, the room was somehow cleaned while they were in the bath. Amelia only noticed when she found that she had to pull the covers off the bed to slip under them. She distinctly remembered the bed not having them at all or perhaps it was a trick of her addled mind. Whatever the case, she was glad for it and the warmth of the bed and the feeling of clean sheets on her washed skin was as pleasant a feeling as they come. She exhaled in relief, a small noise of appreciation leaving her lips as she wiggled her way beneath the covers before waiting for Hawke to lay down next to her. She lifted the covers just above her own nose, staring up at Fae like a child hiding under a blanket from would-be monsters hiding in closets. Her eyes were playful, looking at Hawke with a precious revery that she had no possessed ever since talk of the coven of mages had started. Normalcy was a luxury for the both of them and in the small hours of the night, the way they tucked themselves into bed as painfully, beautifully normal.

Amelia shifted in the bed to place her head on the inside of Hawke’s shoulder, her arms folded over her stomach. She would have loved nothing more than to turn to the side and cling to the woman as she was prone to do but with her arm the way it was, she had to make due with the closeness she could manage. She felt warm and the bed was inviting. It felt as if she was sinking into the very cushions themselves, clouds beneath her sore bones ushering her to rest. She spoke few words, quiet mumbles as her body finally gave into temptation and she fell asleep faster than she had ever fallen asleep. A part of her wanted to stay awake, to keep the sight of Hawke within even the corners of her eye. But it would not do. The trek to the Hawke estate had finally caught up to her and the walk of hours would, in her mind, take the sleep of hours more to shave off.

- ♠ - 

Are we safe now? 
I would think so.
Are we really here?
I would say so.
Shall we wake soon?
Not quite yet.
Drift into sleep.
We’ll watch over her.
Will she be safe now?
We would say so.

- ♠ -

Amelia woke before the sun had a chance to peak through the gap in the curtains. Beside her she felt the steady breathing of Hawke. The hangover and the drinking took its own toll on the woman and she surmised that she would be asleep for a bit longer still. Amelia didn’t mind. She bent over to kiss the woman’s forehead before sliding out of bed with care, supporting her right arm with her left as she went. Her feet touched the cold ground and she gave a light shiver before she moved towards the dresser and pulled open the drawer with her medicines. Idly, her fingers glided along the bottles until she found an unmarked potion swirling with blue and gold. She smiled to herself before looking back at Hawke to make sure she was asleep.

Popping open the cork, she quickly imbibed the potion. The effects were immediate, the veins in her neck showing just beneath her skin as everything felt as if it were constricting. Her muscles twitched and her vision blurred as her eyes darted in every direction. Her breathing was shallow for a small moment and she struggled before being able to take a full breath. She took a few deep breaths in and looked up at the mirror. There was a mild glow in her eyes that slowly faded away and her hair regained its shimmer. She looked down at the bottle before tucking it back where it was once placed, making a note that she would have to re-do the potion when she had the time.

She moved towards the door, looking back at Hawke briefly before making her way to the kitchen. Bodahn was already wide awake by the time Amelia appeared at the top of the stairs. Quietly, she gave him instruction to fetch ingredients for breakfast so she could set to work. The manor would smell of baked bread and freshly cooked bacon again. That was Amelia’s goal for the morning, an extension of normalcy.

Sleep was merciful to Fae that night. There was a warmth that had returned to her bed, and it made the endeavour entirely dreamless. Her thoughts did not toy with her, pushing her through nightmares where Amelia was but an inch for her fingers yet too far to grasp. They did not tease her with visions of an ideal future, of a quiet life with the one she had very nearly accepted as lost. She barely moved in her sleep that night either, not tossing and turning so violently that whatever energy she had gained from the hours spent in an exhausted stupour was sapped entirely when she woke. Her breath was heavy and her body weighted into her bed, entirely and immovably content.

She woke slowly, as one who has slept solidly normally does, and her senses returned to her one by one. Hearing came with the sound of birds tweeting. Clearly, the window had been opened for the sound was crystal as it drifted into the room. From another source the faint whiff of meats being cooked danced beneath her nostrils and roused her yet further. Her sights would find before her a bare pillow and empty arms, and touch would find her bereft of the body that she had fallen asleep with, and all at once, her instinct woke with a violent lurch.

Her eyes grew wide and her heart began to thunder in her chest as she shot upward, along with a nauseating weight that seemed to slide down her throat and settle in her stomach, so heavy she felt she might weight through the bed. It was dread that stopped her from simply leaping from her bed and charging around her house in search, that sinking feeling that she had been right all along, as much as she had scarcely believed it by the end of the previous night, and as much as she had wanted to be wrong. It had all been a dream, a cruel, cruel dream. And yet she would not put her own mind past such cruelty and the mere thought only pulled her further into the pits of that ache. She was her own worst enemy, she knew, but there was nothing she could do to stop it.

And yet that scent of cooking bacon struck her senses again, and it occurred to her to pause, to hesitate in her thought. — This has happened before. Her steps were almost tentative then as she swung her legs from her bed, bare feet meeting cool wood floor with a slight hiss. She got up, following her nose and the faint sound of clattering pans with just a handful of thoughts in mind. It wasn’t a dream. She is here, you know it. You have not lost her again. You never lost her before. She is here and she is —

Cooking, with one hand, the other still bound in a sling. Amelia was busy by the cooker, her hair ruffled and her body adorned in a shirt far too big for her and Fae’s sigh of relief was audible. She chastised herself almost immediately for being so quick to believe the opposite, and a few steps across downright cold tile would have her slip behind Amelia as she had done numerous times before, arms curling around her waist and chin settling upon her shoulder.

"One of these days I’d like to wake up with you in my arms. I suppose I better become a morning person, mm?"

She wasn’t about to admit how terrified she had been for a moment, distracting herself instead with sweet kisses to her lover’s neck. Amelia would know, however. Of that Hawke had no doubt. 

[[d’you know who should totally meet

Celene and Margaery]]



      “Perhaps; but doing so or not seems to
       hinder you little in giving it regardless.
       Whether or not it is heeded or asked for.”

         That is my role as a member of your family —
           however extended, no? No-one likes their
           extended families."

The 9th gif in your folder is your muse’s reaction to meeting the mun for the first time.

Tagged by: empathxia + hearttodust

All of my blogs ever:

Fem!Hawke [DA2]: faeryshawke

Isabela [DA2]: rivainidancer

Isla Cuinnsear [Unaffiliated OC]: rovingwarrior

Garen Crownguard [League of Legends]: defenderoftherighteous

Riven [LoL]: notyournoxus

Personal: gyllybug

Collaborative erotic lit blog: HAH NO

Then there’s a couple whose blogs don’t exist anymore including:

Genderbent!Fae [LoL]: Idon’tevenrememberhisURL
Aveline [DA2]: freckledram
Alexis [DA2 OC]: alexisofstarkhaven

Tagging: namelesskraken | starsandscimitars | theorlesianmage | paragoninexile | hisbrokenwatch +aNYONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO DO THE THING



      “… And you think yourself qualified to do so,
       do you Hawke?”

         And why not? It is not such a difficult job. 
           After all; whether you take the advice or not
           is wholly up to you."




      “Fine, Hawke. Fine. I have no will
       to argue with you today. Take it as
       slow as you please. “


         Is it really such a chore to have someone look
           out for your mental well-being? Maker knows
           someone has to do it, you certainly don’t."

For You, I’ll Live | Faerys + Amelia


Amelia sat quietly and watched as Hawke buzzed around the room gathering the various materials she needed. It was a familiar sight that she had seen on multiple occasions. That Hawke never liked going to a healer bothered Amelia immensely but she let the woman sate her dislike by staying at home to be healed. It always fell on Amelia, of course, to do more than standard medicine to patch Hawke up. It was then she began to wonder why Hawke let her do it at all. Hawke dislike healers touching her wounds but, somehow, Amelia was able to do so and she smiled to herself at the idea that, perhaps, she was the only mage who could. She made a mental note to study more of the healing arts, beyond the basics she knew.

Once Hawke set to work, Amelia’s wandering mind came back to reality as the task of gritting her teeth and not moving too much became paramount. As Hawke began to dry her wounds, she couldn’t help but flinch ever now and again, her skin sensitive from the combination of the bath and her wounds being wiped clean. She took in a sharp breath every now and again, looking back at Hawke with a reassuring nod before facing forward again so she could close her eyes and try to think of something else. She sighed softly as she felt Hawke’s kiss on her shoulder. Hawke had always been an amorous woman no matter what she would say to anyone else, but she was being more so that night. Amelia understood and simply took it with gratitude that she was there to experience it at all.

The salve stung her back and her reaction was more audible with soft grunts and sharp intakes of breath. She looked up at the ceiling as she took in a deep breath, closing her eyes until Hawke finished her work. Lifting her arms up slightly to let Hawke wrap the bandage around her, she planted her own kisses on he woman’s cheek when she could.

"You’re making me feel spoiled, ma moitié.” she cupped Hawke’s cheek and kissed her on the lips, “Merci, Fae.”

The combination of the salve and her potion made it so that the wounds on her back would heal cleanly faster than the hours that Hawke estimated. All for the better, she thought. Amelia quickly got up and got dressed, putting on smalls and taking one of Hawke’s shirts from the closet. Amelia redid the sling on her arm, throwing on the one she was wearing as it had grown wet from the bath. She replaced the pieces of wood tied around her arm to keep it straight, being careful as to not move too much She placed four on her forearm and four on her upper arm before tying a new sling around her beck and placing her arm in. Once her arm was in place, she slipped her left arm in the shirt she took and simply left the right side drape over her arm.

"You are not expecting quests tonight, oui? I am not dressed modestly enough for such a thing nor do I have the energy to try and put something on.” she sighed, “The Maker has a strange sense of humor. It’s almost my right side that takes the worst of my injuries, non? Luckily this arm isn’t too badly broken. I should be fine in two weeks, I would think.”

Amelia sat at the edge of the bed and made sure to sit to Hawke’s left before laying on her back, her feet dangling above the floor. She looked up at Hawke and reached out for Hawke’s hand and gave it a light squeeze. She was keenly aware of the woman’s need to maintain constant contact. She was more than happy to sate it.

"Hey. Thank you again, Fae. For the bandages." she pulled Hawke’s hand towards her lips, kissing her knuckles gently for a moment before looking up at Hawke, "I love you. More than anything in this world, I love you. I - ……I’m glad I’m here to say that."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke, “Maker. I thought….I would never be here again. And only now do I realize I wasn’t ready at all. I’ll never be. I never….want to be without you…..I’m so sorry. Hawke, I’m so sorry for what I did. I failed….I….I hope everyone is okay…….Maker I’m so, so sorry Hawke. I love you….I’m so sorry.”

From her perch on the bed, Fae simply watched as Amelia fixed up her sling. Aside from the dislocated shoulder and torn muscles she had suffered in their trip to Lothering, she had thankfully never in the past had to deal with broken bones. — At least, not consciously. There had been one or two dubious moments where she had woken in the clinic and Anders had clearly taken advantage of her not being conscious to fight him off when such bandages and slings had been found on her person. Nevertheless, it was not a thing she had working knowledge of, and it interested her to watch. She made a mental note then to remember how Amelia had done it, just in case she needed to do it herself one day.

Her heart skipped a moment and a small smile crossed her lips to see Amelia pick out one of her shirts. The differences in their heights made the sight almost comical; the shirt draping over Amelia and reaching almost down to her knees in its length. It had always been a favourite sight of Fae’s however, and it certainly pleased her now. Her hand reached out almost immediately as Amelia joined her on the bed, and she squeezed back just as tightly, and though she remained silent, her smile fell just a small amount to hear the slightest of inflections in her tones.

She shifted then, crawling up the bed over to Amelia and propping herself up. the heels of her hands rested at either side of Amelia’s shoulders and she gave a soft smile as she leaned down. She planted a single kiss on each cheek as one hand rose to carefully wipe the rears away, each gentle motion carried only with an intent of comfort. She was careful not to disturb Amelia’s broken arm as she moved, stray and damp hair falling to frame both of their faces. But then their lips parted again and she rested her forehead against Amelia’s and closed her eyes. 

"Hush, love." Hawke breathed, planting small, comforting kisses between her words as she spoke. "I love you. Always, no matter what. We’re all fine, we’re all okay — we… Now that I have you back… I promise I will never let go. I promise. I’ll always be here for you, my love."

Her words were breathed softly against Amelia’s lips before she stole more kisses, each brush of her lips soft and no more than she intended it to be; an outpouring of her adoration. When it came to her feelings, those exceptionally true feelings buried deep in her heart, Fae had never been good with the words to express them. But she did have kisses. he had kisses and she had everything that she felt, all of the loss that she had grieved over the last few days… It all poured into her love in that moment, and she found her soon-to-be wife more precious than ever. Perhaps I should say that.

"Sleep with me," she whispered, stealing another kiss from Amelia’s lips. "Just sleep. Sleep in my arms and wake in them, I think we could both use it after the days we’ve had."



      “Not as big as you seem to like to think. Regardless,
       I am not going to suddenly disregard a threat simply
       because you do not wish to be bothered… I have
       survived this long without someone to tell when not
       to be concerned. Were it up to you, we would not care
       for anything.”

      I do not ask that you disregard it, only that you
        consider that perhaps not everything we find
        around every corner is so dire. You will drive
        yourself mad long before a blade or brand finds
        you if you don’t.