#please excuse

- my great grandma was from slovenia

- my great grandpa was a german

- my grandma is originally from the “Sudetenland” (which is an area in czechia)

and yet i am neither slovenian nor german nor czech nor anything other than austrian. even tho i’m not necessarily proud of it, i am austrian. because guess where i was born. GUESS THE FUCK WHAT.

real convo i had with an american once:

“i’m from austria and-”

“OH THAT’S SICK I’M GERMAN!”

“oh hä cool von wo kommst du denn?”

“bruh you really expect me to speak dutch? lmfaoooo no i’m 21% german and my grandma was from germany and [something something this went on for a while]” <- ONLY A MADMAN SAYS SUCH A THING!

like does this make sense?????? does this at all make sense?????????????

and yes yes i know it’s often about being raised a certain way but like. italian americans are not italians. i know some italians and. i don’t think i know one single joey or tony from actual italy. does this all make sense. an ocean in between you and your apparent motherland creates some quite noticeable differences yk.

if you say “oh my grandma was from [wherever the fuck] :0” or “oh i have some ancestors who lived there! i hear it’s nice :)” THEN NO ONE WOULD BE SAYING ANYTHING!

but with you being all “ACTUALLY MY GRANDMA BEING GERMAN MAKES ME GERMAN TOO” you just sound so very weird. please stop this all.

if i was born in austria i am: austrian

if you were born in america you are: american

I'm not saying this is already canon or anything but it isn't necessary not canon.

I'm not saying, like, short short here, not like Riz. just... slightly shorter than an elf should be. she was in an abusive household and I wouldn't be surprised if she often went without a meal or two because of either "not deserving it" or regurgitating it because of a ray of sickness or something similar spell wise. not eating can cause you to not grow as much as you were meant to.

{ Continued from Ask Prompt found HERE. }

@daughterofhighever-blog: ❝ You are much better than you pretend to be. ❞ ------------ @impcrriumm -  "What a mad thing to say," Dorian quipped.

 What did the Warden expect from him? His heartfelt gratitude? And reveal that his perception was not without blemish or distaste? He would sooner flay himself with a rusted bread knife.

 'Your heart is not an accessory, you are not to wear it like pearls.' He could still hear his mother tell him. 'You would not bathe yourself in blood before entering a den of  wolves unless you intended to be devoured.' She would warn him. His parents taught him little he thought applicable. That hardly meant that he'd managed to wipe away the stain of their self interest had left on him. No, it clung to him like red wine on white linens.

 In hindsight they ought to have taken their own advice. Perhaps then he might not have spent so many restless nights listening to them quarrel with such passion. Not that he ever dared to speak it, better to preserve a beautiful face--that was after all among of the few things he had going for him. "I have not been pretending well enough it would appear if you think me the humble sort." he added.

   Elissa sat in one of the tower library’s deep windows, nestled between two bookshelves the stood from floor to ceiling. She was leaned against the cool stone frame while her hands rested on drawn up knees. Lifting her head from where it rested by the glass, she looked at Dorian with a teasingly amused incredulity.

  “You think I’m calling you humble?” she asked with a bright smile and a laugh. Clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, Elissa gave a light tssk and shook her head.  “Far from it, Master Pavus. You’re as proud and pompous as a puffed up peacock on parade...”

  For a moment, she turned to look back out the window. It overlooked the courtyard, and from where she sat, she could just see the figures of her family below. While Bryce swung a wooden sword in playful “combat” with his father, Gareth sat cross-legged on a roughly carved bench, studiously hunched over a book in his lap. Her brow pinched just for an instant as the thought rose up again that she would need to secure her eldest son a new tutor. There were mages a plenty in Skyhold, but Elissa was wary of any that came from the old Circles - and more so of the few who still supported the idea of their return. 

Banishing the thought from her mind, Elissa turned her attention back to Dorian. There were moments when he thought no one was looking when she’d catch little things - small, fractional cracks and shifts in his face and carriage that belied a much deeper well of feeling than she’d seen him allow himself to express.

Caroline putting her own life in danger because he was alone and scared and someone she knew...not loved(yet) just knew....and he “needed help.”