bipolarmerrill asked:

*chinhands* so tell me about mordecai lavellan


Mordecai was born to a city elf mother. She was very sick, though, and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to care for her son. Knowing this, she brought him to the nearest Dalish clan (without knowing they were actually  a thing) and begged the Keeper to raise him. She agreed, and Mordecai’s mother died knowing her son was safe.

Mordecai was different. He was much less reserved than the other children. He asked too many questions, and they eventually turned to “Who are my real parents?”

The Keeper told him about his mother, and that she didn’t know about his father. His mother had kept that information from her. 

Mordecai didn’t like bows. They rubbed his arm weird and it hurt. He didn’t like daggers, either. They were too small. He eventually found a really fucking bid sword, when he was around 13, and thought “Yes this is the one for me. I’ll take down deer and shit with this.”

He was the shittiest hunter in the clan. BUT he was a very good fighter. The Keeper sent him to the conclave because a) he begged, and b) he could take care of himself.

Mordecai was never really sweet on any of the women in the Lavellan clan. Sure, they were beautiful and very nice, but none of them really suited his fancy.

And then there was Cassandra.

She scared the shit out of him. She was loud and brash, and she made his heart go a-flutter. 

He was annoying. He knew it, she knew it, everyone knew it. He called her “delightful” and took such pride when she groaned at him. 

He also sometimes slips the children of Skyhold extra muffins, because they’re cute and they deserve muffins.


This is very scattered and very incomplete but I LOVE MY BABY ALREADY I’M SO HAPPY HE EXISTS

Fascination with anti-heroes

I don’t remember when my fascination with anti-heroes started. Maybe it was the day when I first saw a pair of brilliant green eyes, filled with tears as the man begged his father to tell him he was his own flesh and blood not some monster parents told their children about in nights.

People say, like attracts like and i wonder sometimes if the darkness holds such a fascination because maybe i have bit of it inside me.

Its a terrifying thought that chills and yet is strangely comforting.

People call me an epitome of contradiction and strangely it never sounds like a compliment.

I wonder why.