queensigrun-deactivated20180615
I came with you to help. I would have told you sooner but you were busy.
probablylostrightnow reblogged
xx. Dragon Age - Cole Quotes
[Shirt]
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Cole: Your elbow made him smile.
Cassandra: My...who are you talking about?
Cole: The blacksmith's apprentice. He repaired the armor. He was too shy to ask if you were satisfied.
Cole: He saw you smile as you tested the joint. It made him happy.
Cassandra: It was fine work. I will remember to thank him when we are back at Skyhold.
Cole: My elbows don't make anyone smile.
probablylostrightnow reblogged
Judging by the way Zevran cut off the ashes guy I don’t think he would get along with Cole. I feel like Cole would start to say something about him and Zevran would aggressively shush and try to put his hands over Cole’s face.
probablylostrightnow reblogged
“Faith seeks a friend in Compassion, cautious, careful, too much grey but growing.”
probablylostrightnow reblogged
SO COLE AND CASSANDRA WERE TALKING ABOUT WARDEN-COMMANDER CLAREL, AND HOW SHE FELL BECAUSE SHE WAS AFRAID, AND HOW CASSANDRA WONT FALL LIKE THAT.
AND CASSANDRA ASKS HIM IF THERE WAS ANY HIDDEN PAIN IN MAGISTER ERIMOND AND COLE JUST
COLE
probablylostrightnow reblogged
“It always had a soul. The question is the answer.”
by cole’s trespasser dialogue
probablylostrightnow reblogged
hobaglavellan:
veitstanz:
didn’t quite go the way I wanted but it was good practice
Iron Bull is crying
WHY IS THIS SAD IRON BULL STUFF ALL OVER MY DASH SUDDENLY T_____T
WHY ARE YOU PUTTING IT ALL OVER MINE!?! SWEET JESUS, MY HEART!
probablylostrightnow reblogged
Wouldn’t it be cool if Mass Effect characters met with the Dragon Age characters….
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“That strange boy came in with an armful of chickens. You’re looking after him, right?“
for arcanehound :)
probablylostrightnow reblogged
earned the right to happy endings (Dragon Age, Pentilyet, Cole)
This is sort of a coda to cups of sorrow thrown into the ocean.
It’s also… I have always promised myself that I wouldn’t write Cole-talking-to-people-about-their-relationships unless I could do it in a way that treated Cole as a real fully-developed character and not just an ambulatory plot device. So this was my attempt. We shall see if it was successful.
In which Compassion and Faith have a conversation, and Grace awaits.
earned the right to happy endings
“You’re afraid you’re going to hurt her,” Cole says.
If Cassandra was a less single-minded person, that–spoken, in characteristic fashion, out of thin air–might have startled her enough to falter. As it is, her blow falls true on the training dummy, and only after does she say, “What?”
“No,” Cole says. He has… appeared, materialized, whatever it is, perched atop one of the hay bales in the training yard, arms around his knees. “No, that’s not right. You’re afraid that she’s going to be hurt because of you.”
“Cole–”
“Like all the rest of them–Anthony, Byron, Justinia, Galyan, Daniel–”
If it were anyone else, she would probably have punched them by now. Even with Cole it is a near thing. Her hand flexes on the hilt of her sword. “No,” she says, hard as ice. “Stop.”
“–but it doesn’t make any sense. None of their deaths were your fault.”
“I do not wish to discuss this, Cole.”
probablylostrightnow reblogged
cole dies like all the time but i still take him everywhere aka put this breastplate on u squishy pale boy
Argent, the Assassin (DA:I ficlet)
DA:I multiplayer ficlets: Reaver, Legionnaire, Hunter, Assassin, Arcane Warrior, Templar, Elementalist, Archer, Alchemist, Necromancer, Keeper, Katari
Because I am a doofus, I keep forgetting to thank servantofclio for all her help with these ficlets: encouragement, beta-reading, typo-spotting, and more encouragement. Thanks!
#
Every night she was not on a mission, Argent trained on the walls of Skyhold. The Inquisition had not been nearly as emphatic about her training regimen as her former masters, but they did not need to be. An important part of being a weapon was keeping herself honed. So every night, she spun from shadow to shadow. Duck and slice, parry and stab, fully extend with the dagger, then jump away and disappear. The guards on the walls never saw her. That, too, was part of the training.
It was unprecedented for her to have an audience when she trained.
He stuck to the shadows, quick-moving and whisper-quiet, but she’d spotted him and stole subtle glances at him as she continued her moves. It was the thin, pale boy from the tavern, the one with all the hats. She’d watched enough to know that he was no stranger to shadows and knives himself. She wasn’t sure how skilled he was with the knives, for she’d only seen him use them on the dying. Some had used their last breaths to thank him for the mercy. It struck her as wrong for people to thank their killer.
She was certain that no one had ever thanked her.