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Oh noooooooo! The mystery is solved! You’ve solved my final riddle, you are ze new riddle master... Congratulations… You have proven yourselves... quite the adventurers... oh, I’ve landed on Bryan- Bryan, ahhh… Bryan, I’m so proud of zem… I’m going to die now... My life is flagging from my body... I’ll see my family... goodbye cruel worrrrld-
8, 10, and 14 for the fic asks, for A Murder of Crows?
8. Did any particular scene give you a hard time?
I think the Water of the Womb chapters were definitely tricky in trying to balance the pacing and just landing the plot points. There was a lot of revision going on there from what I recall, just trying to get the balance right with Illario, Lucanis and Alessia, and everything else going on in those chapters.
10. Is there any moment in your fic that makes you go crazy, even if it's not the most well-written?
“So Viago wasn’t the only one who had to put up with that behaviour,” Lucanis tsk’d. “I’m sure he would have loved to complain with Varric about that.”
“He still might depending on how all this ends,” she laughed.
“Hey, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Taash snorted. “We kill Ghilan’nain and get that dagger and we can still win this.”
--
I'm still very proud of myself for this interaction and how Alessia is managing to have an entirely different conversation with the gang without anyone realising it :)
Oh, and as a bonus because yes this ask did get me re-reading my own fic when I'm meant to be working on another one, and it's reminding me that I will need to eventually work on a DA2 fic...
--
At that, Emmrich shuddered. “I will never understand the practice of cremation,” he murmured.
“It’s not a practice among the Dalish either,” Merrill said, nodding sagely. “We give our bodies back to the earth, to feed it and become something new. Burning someone to nothing but dust just seems… sad.”
Hawke shrugged irreverently. “Stops the bog zombies from biting your face off.”
Emmrich had never looked so scandalised.
“But Andraste was burnt alive,” Merrill pointed out. “Surely she wouldn’t have wanted people to be burned up just because it happened to her?”
“I dunno, Merry. I think if I was burned alive, I would make it everyone’s problem.”
“You are everyone’s problem,” Viago muttered.
14. What is your favorite chapter (if applicable)?
I don't really have just one, but I loved writing the 'Getting Rook Back' chapters. It was fun to play with stuff that in-between stuff.
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It's pride month so I'll allow myself to express one opinion on the internet :
There are no "exact color" of pride flags.
I see more and more sites and posts talking about the exact hex codes for the lesbian flag, or the right purple for the ace one, and how it should be more or less saturated and I just want to say: pride flags were meant to be sewn in your kitchen. To be spraypainted and to be recognised.
There are no "exact colors" of pride flags because you should do them with what you have ! Nobody should care if you use a crimson red instead of a cherry red or whatever ! Be free ! wave your colors ! The colors you have !
still boggles my mind that davrin isn’t Thee hottie of veilguard btw. i mean we All Know Why. but come on. what happened to the inherent charisma of warrior with big shield you guys loved warrior with big shield when it was alistair and cullen
I know it shouldn’t shock me that fandom is like this, but I still can’t wrap my head around Davrin hate.
He was delightful and hot and sexy and cute with Assan and one of my favorites hands down, and I feel like this is Wyll from BG3 all over again. It makes me so mad for my bois.
I wish all Black girls a clear shot at this world. I wish all Black girls a full belly. I wish all Black girls a respite from their many troubles. I wish all Black girls nothing but grace, prosperity, and ease. Black girls I am hoping for your continued safety and success every single day.
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because I need to feel like I'm making progress because the next chapter update for In His Name has been kicking my arse
anyway here's some post-coronation Dark Urge stuff
--
Hours passed before finally the storm broke, a bloody wash draining from her vision as the night passed sick and sweating, but bloodlessly. Her whole body was weighed down by its own exhaustion, her bones and muscles ached as though she had walked for miles and her skin was clammy with sweat which left the inside of her mouth painfully dry and her throat aching. But her breathing was finally evening out as the corkscrew pains finally began to subside bit by bit.
Her mind was her own again at last.
From the wall-chained cot, Logan sat watching over her, eagle-eyed and sleepless with his arms folded over his knees. The dark circles around his eyes seemed to have deepened and a familiar ache soaked through her chest as she rolled to sit up with her head bowed.
The silence was achingly painful as she tried to summon up something to say. Anything.
"Thank you," she murmured finally. "For stopping me."
He didn't reply, just rose to his feet, left the cell and vanished through the nearby door. Barely a moment later, he returned looking no more pleased than he ever did.
"I've sent for the Queen. Whatever you have to say will be to her," he said tersely as he resumed his seat.
She nodded and tried to turn her attention inwards, self-assessing the damage she had done to herself. The previous night was a blur from behind the crimson veil, though there were moments that retained some clarity and sharpness; moments where she had been closer to control than enthralled to the horror inside her, though they had been brief and swung between tooth-extractingly painful explanations and sobs of abject misery.
Her wrists and ankles itched from chaffing where she had strained against the manacles, the base of her tail ached as if it had been pulled, and her headache was throbbing explicitly behind the front of her skull, which was different from the usual pain. Had she tried to bash her head open against the wall at one point? That might explain it.
Otherwise she seemed largely unharmed, though that was hardly the point. She hadn't been the one in danger. Not until now.
She shuffled to put her back to the far wall and dared to glance up at Logan. He glowered back at her.
"Did I hurt anyone?" she asked tentatively.
For a moment it seemed he might not answer, before he rubbed his face.
"You cut a guard across the face with your tail, whipped me across the back multiple times, and managed to rip chunks out of a balustrade, but otherwise no," he replied exhaustedly. "You did try to bite me on several occasions though."
Ah. Her faced flushed purple.
"I'm sorry. You were just the first person I found, and-"
"Whatever you have to say, it will be to the Queen," he repeated bluntly. "I trust you will not threaten to hollow out her chest cavity to serve as your castle and to wear her bones as your crown?"
Light, had she really said that? Her flush deepened and she hung her head.
"I'm sorry."
The wait for Lorna to arrive was agonising, and when she did, Nobody was verging on asking Logan what else she'd said if only so she could apologise for the feral madness that had run her mouth rampant. Fortunately, her Majesty managed to save them from that conversation as she entered the cell and frowned.
She didn't look to have slept any more than the rest of them and there was a whiff of coffee on her breath as she addressed Logan with a tone of needling accusation.
"Why hasn't she been unchained?"
"A safety precaution," he replied as he got to his feet. "Just in case she reacted when you arrived."
As always, Lorna didn't seem impressed with her brother even as he unlocked the manacles around Nobody's ankles. When she made no leap to run or lunge, he unfastened her wrists. The warmed iron fell away and her flesh cried out in relief at their freedom regained.
Pathetic. Look at you. The Butler gave you another chance. Kill the Child Queen and save face. But you didn't—you spent the night chained and shackled, playing out a farce as a wriggling, squirming slug. Humiliating. You can be so much more than that screaming heap. Come back to yourself.
Even now her headache refused to abate and she rubbed her wrists carefully. The skin was worn thin from thrashing. It verged on splitting under the slighest pressure. Under the tip of her claw, she could draw forth such beautiful rubies…
She put the thought down before her wandering claws could do any harm and she sat up, bracing herself for a brutal scrutiny by the two siblings.
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im not gonna lie it was fucking delicious i would fucking do it again. wait shit youre the fucking wizard in disguise seeing if ive learned my lesson arent you. fuck.
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sometimes my Beloved Mutuals will rb a post about a certain character archetype and i will have to physically restrain myself from saying “yeah you would say that wouldn’t you”
just so we’re clear if you’ve never actually seen a cybertruck in person and have only seen photos of them i cannot stress enough how much worse they look in real life. like i honestly don’t know how it’s possible. most things look basically the same in pictures and in real life. but as stupid and ugly as cybertrucks look in photos, every person i’ve spoken to who has seen one in real life agrees that they somehow look even worse in person. and i know you’re thinking to yourself “tah they already look so bad in photos, how can they possibly look even worse in person?” I DONT KNOW. the first time i saw one on the road i was on a phone call and i literally cut myself off in the middle of a sentence just to be like “oh my GOD.” just an incredibly, laughably, unbelievably bad vehicle. i’ve never experienced anything like it. they’re just so bad
kinda wanna write kinda wanna take a nap @nightingaletrash - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook
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