Tbh from strictly technical perspective dalish elves did appropriate vallaslin ... strictly technically. They had no idea what it was for or why, only that it was elven (thanks Solas) so they took it. From wider standpoint of what happened, they were desperately trying to reclaim and rebuild their lost culture and this was the best they managed (and they did good job) and by the point of Dragon Age vallaslin is inherent to their culture. That's what one gets if they do not look at context.

Except you can’t appropriate from YOUR OWN PEOPLE.

Look, here’s my Indigenous perspective on this, which call me crazy, but I think is pretty damn valid…

These are examples of the Wabanaki Double-Curve:

Well at least a few Mi’kmaw examples; there are many variations and further uniqueness among the different Wabanaki peoples, but they all feature the same general look. They are sometimes called the Mi’kmaq Double Curve and Penobscot Double Curve, but in reality they were not just a design element from my people or the Penobscot, but among all the Wabanaki Confederacy.

They are frequently found on artwork and ceremonial clothes/regalia, and are known as a cultural identifier. Most notably among the Mi’kmaq is on our traditional peaked caps for women of high regard.

When beading and stitching, the designs implemented are not for ornamental sake. The designs, the colours, the materials all had meaning, and that is why these clothes were mostly for ceremonial purposes and not everyday wear. This is known and documented.

What is not known any longer is what the different traditional designs meant. There are solid theories for some of them. Certain variations found on canoe paddles probably have some connection to the water, where others have very floral elements and probably have connections to the earth.

But the unfortunate truth is, we will likely never find a solid, indisputable answer for what they all mean, because it was stolen from us. Not lost; lost implies it was simply accidentally forgotten, and not buried from colonization. But my people still use these designs today for the reason I said above: They act as cultural identifiers. They are insignia. They are special. And even if we do not have a full understanding of what our ancestors used them for, we know that there was a sacredness involved, and we keep what we can. They are still special to us, even if that now has different meaning than what it was before.

This is exactly what the Dalish did with the vallaslin. It’s still theirs, just with lost meaning. They’re not taking from someone else. They’re reusing something from their own history.

Even if vallaslin was originally used as slave markings, it has become a reclaimed symbol. Yes, the Dalish were very wrong about the origin. But I don’t understand how you can fault them for that; it’s not like they chose to have their history and culture erased, leaving them to play guessing games at restoring whatever they possibly can to maintain some form of identity. Vallaslin has become a symbol of Dalish pride. And for Lavellan, possibly a form of protection against the constant erasure they face as Inquisitor.

To say that the Dalish “culturally appropriated” vallaslin is one of the most obtuse, pseudo-woke thing I’ve ever heard in this fandom.

EDIT: Yes this is okay to reblog? All my posts are okay to reblog unless for some reason said otherwise.

Modern day Cassandra Allegra Calogera Filomena Pentaghast, go:

Bisexual. I will support her no matter what else, but dammit, she will be a respected bisexual woman while doing it. 

OK, OK, Here:

On bad days at work she comes home and watches sappy, tragic romance movies with a pint of Ben n’ Jerry’s, bundled on the couch in tattered sweatpants and a sports bra. She has the local Chinese takeout on speed dial, and they know her order. They always send two or three fortune cookies with her order and she can’t believe they still think it’s all for multiple people. 

She comes to work early and stays late. She doesn’t pay attention to office gossip, but she does listen quietly to new interns or hires vent about adjusting to their new responsibilities. 

She goes to the barber for her haircuts, not the salon, though she does mourn that their shampoo smells better. 

She has a cat named Dawson after one of her trashy drama shows. He’s black as soot and eats on the kitchen counter, though she always swears to herself that she needs to train him out of it. She likes having someone to eat breakfast with – even if it’s a cat – a little too much to ever really try.

She’s a wine drinker, and on the weekends she goes to her favorite pub downtown and gets a single glass while she reads her latest chosen serial novel. Men make advances, buy her drinks from afar, but she lets them stack on the table next to her. She only needed one glass of wine, if she needed more, she would have ordered. 

She goes to the gym at 6am sharp, and has her own locker there. She boxes, takes a weekly martial arts class, but her most enjoyable practice is yoga. It evens her out, gives her time to decompress and think about the week ahead and the week gone by. She can also listen to her music the best. 

She sleeps with a white noise sound machine that plays sounds of rainstorms. Never with thunder, though. Just rain – bonus if it sounds like it’s in a wooded area, or somewhere mountainous and serene. 

She considers those she dislikes the least at work to be her “friends” and even then she does not grant them the vanity of admitting it. She tolerates them for all they know, but it’s a kind toleration: sometimes, she brings them their coffee order, or brings them their meal they forgot on the microwave on the way back from the break room. Little things that keep them ensured she still knows they exist and that she cares, but not enough to elicit mushy emotions like sentimentality or crushes.