political-murder

elennare  asked:

First, I wanted to say that I love love love your Harry Potter fics and what-ifs! thank you so much for writing them :) And I also wondered if you ever written what if the Dursleys had refused to take Harry in?

When Petunia Dursley refused to take Harry in she forfeited his birthright protection, so Dumbledore took the baby to the safest place he knew: Hogwarts.

The applicable staff (mostly just… not Snape) took Harry in on a rotating schedule as he grew from baby to toddler to child. They traded extra credit for babysitting among the older students, and Harry grew up knowing a few dozen different laps that were safe and warm to nap in.

This was a Harry who grew up among books, among old transient walls and learned professors. They gave Binns night duty sometimes, and let him talk young Harry to sleep. This was a Harry whose world changed, on principle, daily. The stairs moved. The walls became doors. You had to keep your eyes open–you had to pay attention. So he did.

He grew up in a school. Knowledge was power, but knowledge was also joy. This was his sanctuary. There was magic in his world from birth.

“The castle will keep him safe,” said Dumbledore, when McGonagall came into his office to complain for the eighth time about Albus’s rather cavalier take on child-rearing. “That’s what it does.”

Then why do we bother with chaperones ever,” McGonagall said, tempted to shriek it. “Should we let all the children run about willy-nilly at all hours, or just the orphan waifs?!

“He’s not a student. He’s a ward of Hogwarts. It will take care of him, Minerva.”

McGonagall walked off fuming. A cat with spectacle markings followed Harry almost constantly from ages three through four. At some point McGonagall was far enough behind on her paperwork, and had seen enough suits of armor carry the kid back to his room, enough draperies lift off the wall and tug Harry away from edges, and enough stairs creakingly shift their slope for his tiny toddler legs. She gave a grumpy sigh, stole some of Albus’s lemon drops, and resigned herself to a magical world.

The Grey Lady, the ghost of Ravenclaw Tower, didn’t really like boys but she liked children. She especially liked patience, and politeness, and Harry had been raised by McGonagall’s stern table manners, by Victorian portraiture and quite a few House Elves. He said please, thank you, and ma'am, and as a child he was very cunning in how he got bedtime stories and bedtime snacks out of most every adult he met.

The Grey Lady told the best stories, you see, the ones with riddles in them. You had to think and ask questions to get all the way through them. So he hunted her down with big patient eyes and plates of very smelly cheese, and she told him stories that made him think.

When Harry was stable enough on his feet to walk, and then to run, Sir Cadogan would race him through the castle, the knight scattering banquet tables and galloping across landscapes, twisting through the abstract gallery up on the seventh and a half floor. Harry stumbled and sprinted up stairways and didn’t notice for years the way Cadogan waited at the end of corridors for him to catch up.

Harry was a chubby-legged toddler, in this world–cute cheeks and stubby limbs. It’s a cute image, yes– but this is important. He was a chubby kid. He ate in a high chair on the teacher’s dais, getting peas and mashed potatoes on the adults beside him– Sprout laughed. Snape didn’t.

But this is important–Harry filled his plate. He wobbled up on little legs and grabbed biscuits from the table, slurped his soup, got marinara sauce on his chin and forehead and somehow behind his ear. When he was hungry, he ate. If he snuck down to the kitchens at night, it was for the adventure of it and nothing else. When he was hungry, he ate.

When he was four, they started letting him go sit down with the students. Bill Weasley, on route to be a prefect next year, took him under his wing and scrubbed his face down after meals. Harry was passed around the Hufflepuff table; theirs was the House Common Room he most liked sneaking into, with its barrels and cozy warmth. Nymphadora Tonks turned her nose a dozen different shapes to make Harry laugh, gurgling, as a toddler (and then a child) (and then for the rest of her life, honestly–it never stopped being funny).

The whole Ravenclaw table got distracted from meals, trying to solve riddles from a book one of their Muggleborns had smuggled in.Harry pushed his fork through his gravy, trying to draw out his thoughts but only making squiggles.

It was years before Harry sat at the Slytherin table for the first time–no one had ever set him down there, like they had with the others. But he liked green–it was the color of Professor Sprout’s greenhouses, where he went and napped sometimes in winter. It was the color of his mother’s eyes, from the little book of moving pictures Hagrid had given him when he was three.

All the Slytherin kids seemed big, but everyone Harry ever met seemed big–except for Flitwick, who was seeming smaller with every growth spurt. He leaned forward, teetering on the bench, and grabbed a chicken drumstick. “Hi,” he said, because he’d had a childhood full of tea parties with high portrait society– the French nobility and the tired housewife from the third floor and an old witch with her sleeve on fire but very particular table manners. “I’m Harry. What’s your name?”

By the end of the meal, they were flicking peas across the table with their spoons, like catapult projectiles. Harry had been unwelcome in so few places in his life, after he’d left 4 Privet Drive, that he simply didn’t expect it. He asked Warrington, a Slytherin with shoulders like a bulldog’s, to help him with the juice, which was too unwieldy for his kid-sized wrists. Harry sat there blinking, smiling, until Warrington took the jug and poured him a brimming glass.

Read More

Keep reading

At least 7 Russian officials have turned up dead since November

  • Vitaly Churkin, Russia’s ambassador to the United Nations, died suddenly in New York earlier this week, apparently of cardiac arrest.
  • Churkin, Russia’s envoy to the U.N. since 2006, reportedly became ill at his Russian Mission office in Manhattan on Monday and died at New York-Presbyterian Hospital. He was to turn 65 the next day.
  • The New York City medical examiner said more study is required into the cause and manner of Churkin’s death, though federal law enforcement has said it does not believe there was any foul play.
  • Still, because Russia is no stranger to political murders, the sudden death of a Russian official automatically raises suspicion. 
  • So while Churkin may indeed have died of natural causes, some have noted that it follows several other recent deaths of Russian officials, all occurring suddenly or under mysterious circumstances — including a man who is believed to have helped former M16 spy Christopher Steele compile his bombshell dossier on Donald Trump’s links to Russia. Read more (2/27/17 4:59 AM)

Giulio Regeni (28) was an italian student working on getting his PhD in Cambridge University. He was doing an investigation on independent unions in Egypt and for research he moved temporarily to Cairo, unaware that his good intentions would lead to his brutal murder.

On January 25, 2016, the country was on high alert because it was the fifth anniversary of the Egyptian revolution, one that in 2011 ended up overthrowing president Hosni Mubarak. The current government, led by  Abdel Fatah al-Sisi has since kept a tight control over social manifestations, and thousands have been killed because of it. So Giulio should have stayed in his apartment for safety on that day, but instead he decided to go out to a friend’s birthday party. His last communication was in the evening with his girlfriend, who lived in Ukraine, letting her know he was heading out. He was never seen alive again.

On February 3, after 9 days missing, Giulio’s body was found in the road from Cairo to Alexandria showing clear signs of prolonged torture. The finding happened right at a time in which an italian delegation was meeting with Abdel Fatah al-Sisi. The Egyptian authorities said he’d died from a blow on the head and gave a number of different explanations for the murder to the press: that he had been killed in a road accident, then that it was a crime of passion, that he’d been murdered during a drug deal and that he was a foreign spy.

But Italian prosecutors didn’t let it go and they conducted their own examination of the body and circumstances. Yes, Giulio had been hit on the head several times, but that hadn’t killed him. He’d died from a broken neck, but before that he’d been repeatedly burned and cut, his hands, feet and teeth were broken and letters had been scarved in his skin. He’d been tortured for several days, because the time of death was determined to be between the night of February 1st and the night of February 2nd.

With this revelation, Egyptian authorities changed their tune again. Sisi himself said in the press that Giulio had been killed by Russians to make them look bad with the italians, and then they said that Giulio had been kidnapped and murdered by a gang of robbers that pretended to be policemen. But this didn’t make sense, because no ransom had ever been demanded and his credit cards had not been used. The authorities went as far as to produce Giulio’s documents that had been allegedly in the hands of these criminals, and claimed the gang members had died during a shoot out with police. The gang’s family members, however, said that they’d been executed in cold blood.

The real theory behind this tragic murder is that Giulio was taken by the police because of his research; they suspected he was inciting the social movement. Giulio had told friends he’d been followed and photographed and he’d trusted in the leader of the independent street vendors union, who denounced him to authorities claiming that his questions were “suspicious”. However, the lack of real cooperation from the government means this case will likely remain unsolved, although italian authorities have pledged to keep looking for the truth.

anonymous asked:

LOL THE SUGA ONE WAS PERFECT! Yes he can be a kind supportive parent along with Daichi but hebis also E V I L! Daichi can be scary when angry but Suga will murder u in your sleep. EVIL I SAY! ok if you are not tired of those how about Akaashi next? So many fics make him this shy, pretty dude who needa to be saved by Bokuto nd I dont get where people got that. He's evil too, in a different way than Suga, but still evil

*kicks down your door* DID YOU SAY EVIL AKAASHI HOLY SHIT DO I LOVE THAT SHIT HOLY SHIT. (i already regret this entire meta) 

i mean to be fair i am partial to a wildly insecure akaashi because holy shitting fuck being shy/insecure and being a badass dickhead aren’t mutually exclusive what a fucking concept (this is rage at fandom in general not this ask, dw) but holy shit anyway

fanon akaashi

  • god it’s been so long since i read a bad akaashi
  • i live in my weird, dark akaashi corner and never wander out
  • fragile and feminine
  • like, dainty or something?
  • “so tired of bokuto lol poor akaashi”
  • eventually??? notices bokuto’s charm??? or something?? and is swept off his feet

canon akaashi

  • bruh
  • fuckin brutal my dudes
  • that moment in the anime? where bokuto’s explaining a rebound and then he’s like “well it can go wrong” and akaashi’s like “yeah it goes wrong a lot for you”
  • holy fuck what an asshole
  • bokuto’s like “NO” because of course he’s like “NO”, akaashi you dickhead. and then he’s like “you’ve gotta say that’s not true bokuto-san” because bokuto happens to know how to be be nice fucking person
  • and akaashi’s like don’t fucking tell me what to do you shithead
  • and the next time bokuto’s like “but if you’re calm you can figure out what to do” and akaashi swoops in knowing full damn well that he’s being a dick and is like “that’s not true bokuto-san”
  • fucking brutal
  • and you might be like “lol well he’s a sarcastic asshole with bokuto because he’s So Tired”
  • are you fucking kidding me
  • the guy spends all his free time with bokuto
  • endless practice? sure. lunch together? sure. the guy has a list of bokuto’s weaknesses, knows how to get him back on track no matter how shit his mood gets and you wanna tell me he’s not, like, one of the most important people in akaashi’s life?
  • also the second someone’s like “so bokuto, huh?” he’s like “yeah dude he’s super reliable and i only have good things to say about him whatever”
  • holy fuck
  • this is how he deals with a teammate he respects and is most likely one of his closest friends
  • he’s a dick. the way he smirks at tsukishima when they win? that’s a fucking “hahah suck it you loser, you little snot” even though he knows this is an insecure first year who is just getting the motivation to work at volleyball and he’s still like “should i be gracious in winning here? nah, i’m gonna smirk at him in a way that’s utterly rubbing his face in the fact that i fcukin played him hah you dickhead that’s our ace”
  • seriously though look at some of his faces the guy is absolutely out for blood. kenma is teasing him? i’m planning your untimely death you little pipsqueak. tsukki loses? hahahah how do you like that you lil bitch
  • not to mention he’s super fucking tall
  • he could crush you
  • this list is so long because i. fucking. am. so. emotional. about akaashi keiji.
  • he may be polite but he would murder you, bro. fucking murder you.
  • *muffled sobbing*
washingtonpost.com
Domestic terrorists killed his son. He wants Trump to remember that America makes extremists, too.
Ex-police chief Bob Paudert is worried that federal officials have forgotten about the dangerous sovereign citizens movement.
By https://www.facebook.com/peter.holley.923

I generally try to be apolitical and upbeat on social media, but since Bob Paudert is a coworker and friend of my dad in the SLATT program, I think I should share this. RIP Brandon Paudert.

Jesus was not sent by God to die in order to appease a violent deity, nor did he defeat the powers by dying on the cross. his death was not an atoning sacrifice or a way of bringing a scapegoat mechanism to light. It was a political murder meant to sow terror and to undermine hope. His violent death exposes the domination system as oppressive and violent. His resurrection challenges the ultimate power of the system and invites us to be people of God here and now where oppressive systems remain powerful and must be challenged. Jesus teaches us how to live and shows us the risks of living God’s compassion in an unjust world.
—  Walter Wink, The Human Being

anonymous asked:

Are you capable of seeing that antifas actions and claimed funding make you more fascists then the people you attack and claim to be said fascists? If you all started wearing brown shirts while protesting and inciting riots you'd be another page in history.

We’d normally ignore a message this fucking ignorant, Anon, but today we decided to use your bullshite to clear up a few things:

1) Fascism doesn’t have a super-clear definition but if it definitely includes some or all of the following: ultra-nationalism; the promotion of racist hatred & scapegoating; a extreme fetishization of violence as the ultimate legitimate political mechanism; organized mass murder; the ownership of government by one individual or a small group; prioritizing money over the lives of people; anti-individualism; and the destruction of civilization.

Maybe you know something we don’t, Anon, but we don’t recall antifa ever promoting ultra-nationalism; racist scapegoating, promoting violence as the supreme political mechanism, organizing mass murder, advocating for the ownership of government by one person or a tiny elite cabal, prioritizing money over people, anti-individualism; or ultimately destroying civilization.  Maybe you should actually read about fascism before you make baseless accusations.

2) Antifa’s actions are fascist?  We’ve been blogging about antifa for nearly three years now; we have nearly 4000 posts up; yet we can’t seem to find a single one that has any of the characteristics of fascism.

3) “Claimed funding?”  WTF conspiracy pill did you swallow?  What are you even talking about?  State your claim clearly, then back it with actual evidence and credible sources or GTFO.

4) Oh, maybe you’re all upset because antifascists will defend their communities from people attempting to advocate for the forced removal and genocide of members of those communities, huh?  Too fucking bad, asshat.  We have the right to defend ourselves and our communities from people that are advocating, organizing, and promoting violence against community members.  

Emma Goldman (June 27, 1869 – May 14, 1940) was an anarchist known for her political activism, writing, and speeches. She played a pivotal role in the development of anarchist political philosophy in North America and Europe in the first half of the 20th century.

Born in Kovno, Russian Empire (present-day Kaunas, Lithuania), Goldman emigrated to the United States in 1885. Attracted to anarchism after the Haymarket affair, Goldman became a writer and a renowned lecturer on anarchist philosophy, women’s rights, and social issues, attracting crowds of thousands. She and anarchist writer Alexander Berkman, her lover and lifelong friend, planned to assassinate industrialist and financier Henry Clay Frick as an act of propaganda of the deed. Frick survived the attempt on his life in 1892 and Berkman was sentenced to 22 years in prison. Goldman was imprisoned several times in the years that followed, for “inciting to riot” and illegally distributing information about birth control. In 1906, Goldman founded the anarchist journal Mother Earth.

In 1917, Goldman and Berkman were sentenced to two years in jail for conspiring to “induce persons not to register” for the newly instated draft. After their release from prison, they were arrested—along with hundreds of others—and deported to her native Russia. Initially supportive of that country’s Bolshevik revolution, Goldman reversed her opinion in the wake of the Kronstadt rebellion and denounced the Soviet Union for its violent repression of independent voices. In 1923, she published a book about her experiences, My Disillusionment in Russia. While living in England, Canada, and France, she wrote an autobiography called Living My Life. After the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War, she traveled to Spain to support the anarchist revolution there. She died in Toronto on May 14, 1940, aged 70.

During her life, Goldman was lionized as a free-thinking “rebel woman” by admirers, and denounced by detractors as an advocate of politically motivated murder and violent revolution. Her writing and lectures spanned a wide variety of issues, including prisons, atheism, freedom of speech, militarism, capitalism, marriage, free love, and homosexuality. Although she distanced herself from first-wave feminism and its efforts toward women’s suffrage, she developed new ways of incorporating gender politics into anarchism. After decades of obscurity, Goldman’s iconic status was revived in the 1970s, when feminist and anarchist scholars rekindled popular interest in her life.

useless facts about the founders of the US

george washington: had so many deadly diseases that no one knows how he survived to presidency. p sure it made him infertile. also basically caused the french and indian war by accident

thomas jefferson: was so obsessed with ruining aaron burr that he oversaw every part of his treason trial. made someone run back and forth between the courthouse and his home to keep him updated. is #inconsistent in his political ideas 

james madison: dropped out of college bc of anxiety and lied about it, telling everyone he’d been studying independently. tried to save the south from total agricultural dominance but was stopped by hi bff Jeffyson who was hot for farmers 

john adams: shocked everyone by doing the right thing and volunteered to be the lawyer for the soldiers in the boston masacre trial. when his wife wrote him a letter suggesting women may have rights in the new america, responded “that’s adorable” and probably told his friends

alexander hamilton: published letters under a pseudonym calling burr a ‘cataline’, a reference which implies mass murder, political conspiracy, and incestuous rape, because burr had taken his step-father’s senate seat #nochill

hercules mulligan: was somehow an effective spy despite being a very well known rebel (in every fucking comittee and member of sons of liberty) bc everyone loved his clothes SO much that they were willing to risk it. saved george washington from 2 assassinations mostly by accident. 

aaron burr: major speculation about if he wore silk when he dueled with hamilton bc they thought it could deflect bullets. everyone though he had a haram and warned he’d steal your virgins and pretty boys

benedict arnold: betrayed his country bc sempai didn’t notice him; was constaly ignored for his victories, got lots of texts from washington of ‘who dis?’, and was probably mistaken for benjiman talmidge frequently. 

baron von steubon: was too gay for europe. had a legit haram of pretty boys approved by president washington for his service in the war. is the reason one of adams’ sons ran across harvard yard naked. 

nathan hale: worst spy ever who no one should have let outside. they say he was hanged bc he was a spy, but i’m pretty sure they were angry his last words were such a sick burn

ethan allan: not always furniture. came to fight and had the fucking BEST time, may not have even known what the war was about when he joined

paul revere: sybil ludington road twice as long, through the rain, and over rough terrain to tell the local militia british troops were coming. went on with her life knowing she was better than everyone else

abigail adams: is the reason vaccines happened in the US which, coincidentally, is the only thing that kept the american troops from dying outright. salty as fuck and would have been a better president than her husband 

Grassroots campaign shuts down far right art gallery!

The Shut Down LD50 campaign can happily disclose that the landlord of the LD50 Gallery has asked the tenants, Lucia Diego and Alexander Moss, to vacate the premises. The gallery sign has been taken down from the building at 2–4 Tottenham Road, Dalston, London, and there is no indication that any future events will be taking place in the space. As of April there will no longer be a racist cultural centre operating in Hackney.

Shutting down the gallery is the result of sustained campaign work by many political and community groups, Hackney residents, cultural workers and journalists. We thank everyone involved for their dedication. At the same time we have to recognise that this is only a first step. More needs to be done both to prevent LD50 and its organisers from restarting their project elsewhere, and more generally to ensure that our communities and cultural institutions are kept free of the influence of the far right.

We urge people inside and outside of the art world to refuse to work with Lucia Diego and Alexander Moss. They have actively supported the development of a fascist culture in London. The speakers they hosted often promote mass violence against oppressed peoples and political opponents. The LD50 representatives have done next to nothing to disassociate themselves from such views. There is every reason to believe that they will attempt to resume their public promotion of racist ideas if given the opportunity. Not giving fascism a platform or a voice is an effective non-violent means of stopping them.

It is also important to learn lessons from our activity up until now. As a loose affiliation of friends and associates the Shut Down LD50 Campaign worked collectively alongside established community groups. We have worked mostly anonymously in order to protect ourselves. This was especially necessary after Lucia Diego published the personal details of opponents for potential use by the online far- and alt-right (including open advocates of political murder). When we oppose fascists we need to protect ourselves from their tactics of intimidation.

We must continue to think about how to oppose racism and fascism more broadly. Whilst some of the events at LD50 were openly fascist, it is clear that the space also took inspiration from the more everyday forms of political authoritarianism that have proliferated during the last few years, including Trump. Shutting down fascists in the long term requires that we transform the culture in which they can begin to gain popular and institutional support (and the art world is not the neutral space it often believes itself to be). We need to be able to ask larger questions, such as how to oppose Britain’s own violent border regime.

One way is by working in and alongside the many groups who helped to support our campaign. All of these different organisations are doing exceptional work in the fight against racism, fascism and oppression. Their struggles are becoming increasingly necessary, and we encourage you to get involved with them. To that end, we include a list of groups who have supported us below.

Shut Down LD50

56a Infoshop, Anti-University, Artists For Palestine UK, Arts Against Cuts, Autonomous Centre Edinburgh, BARAC / Black Activists Rising Against Cuts, Base, BDZ Group / Boycott Zabludowicz, Black Lives Matter UK, Boycott Workfare, Cleaners and Allied International Workers Union, Cops Off Campus, Digs / Hackney Private Renters, Disabled People Against the Cuts, DIY Space for London, Goldsmiths UCU (University and College Union), Independent Workers Union of Great Britain,  Jewish Socialists’ Group, Lesbians and Gays Support the Migrants, London Anti-Fascists, MayDay Rooms Staff Collective, Movement for Justice, Mute Magazine, Novara Media, PCS Union Culture Sector Group, Plan C London, Radical Housing Network, Roots Culture Identity Art Collective, Scottish Radical Library, Sisters Uncut North London, South London Solidarity Federation.

buzzfeed.com
Being “Polite” Often Gets Women Killed

In late January, Kristen, a member of the My Favorite Murder podcast Facebook page, wrote a post about a woman who “probably saved my life.” She had driven to a restaurant to get some food and iced tea for dinner late at night, alone since her boyfriend was sick. After getting her order, Kristen went back outside toward her car, but a woman stopped her. “It’s so good to see you!” she said. “How have you been?” Kristen assured her that she had the wrong person; they’d never met before. The woman whispered to her to pretend that they were friends. “There’s a man hiding behind your car,” she said.

They walked over to Kristen’s car together while the woman explained that she had a bad feeling about the man who was lurking and decided there would be power in numbers. “Sure enough,” she wrote, “we get to my car and a man in a hoodie stands up from behind my passenger rear side and nonchalantly walks into the dumpster alley.”

As Kristen said goodbye, the woman smiled and said, “Stay sexy and don’t get murdered.”

For the uninitiated, this is hardly a normal way to say “you’re welcome,” but it’s a calling card of sorts for fellow “Murderinos,” which is what fans of My Favorite Murder, a hugely popular true crime podcast based out of Los Angeles, call themselves.

MFM, the weekly show hosted and researched by Karen Kilgariff, a comedian, musician, and writer, and Georgia Hardstark, a TV host for the Cooking Channel and co-host of the Slumber Party podcast, has been up and running for just over a year now. Their Facebook page is currently creeping past 100,000, and though the duo started it, fans now run it. Their live shows across the country routinely sell out and they have an extensive merchandise line with tees, mugs, and beanies bearing their own quotes. (“Stay out of the forest.”) As of writing, their iTunes rating is four and a half out of five and they’re ranked 6th under Top Comedy Podcasts, and 49th overall. (One of the very few one-star reviews suggests that the show is, “for chicks only. They may as well be talking make up [sic] and pumpkin spice.”) Intentionally or not, the show speaks to women.

anonymous asked:

Do you have any tips for writing Cullen?

Let me first start out by saying that he comes easiest to me because we’re very similar people. That doesn’t help anybody, so I hope I’ve articulated some tips that work well. This is purely how I view the character, so all opinions and observations are my own. If they help veer you into the right direction, bully. If not, then just ignore.

He’s a busy guy.
First, I recommend listening to his banter. It’s established in Inquisition that he is married to his job, hyper-focusing for hours or even days without rest. He’s curt with his page and peppers his lines with sighs of indignation and annoyance. He isn’t someone who likes to or even can drop what he’s doing to concentrate on something else at will. His dialogue varies depending on how “in the zone” he is.

He uses contractions sparingly.
He tends to veer toward a more formal manner of speech, though not nearly as much as Solas. The best way I can think to word it is try to find a more polite way of saying something. (”D’you wanna… vs. “Perhaps you would like to…)

  • “With what? They have only words at their disposal.”
  • “At first they merely humored me, but I must have shown promise.”
  • “I was not sorry to leave at the time. I did not expect to return. Now – between the Divine’s murder and the Breach – I’ve arrived to find nothing but chaos.”
  • “Few who survived the Blight have fond memories of that time. I would prefer not to speak of it.”
  • “Is it? I hope they’re right about you. We’ve lost a lot of people getting you here.”

-I’ve noticed he tends to use more contractions when under pressure or stress. This fits very well into his busy-body persona. Reading his notes on the War Table is a good reference, as well.

He’s nostalgic.
His dialogue is rife with fond memories of happier times. Heck, he even has a side quest named that. When he’s reminiscing, he’s more open to expression and laughter.

  • (Laughs.) “I wanted to be. I wasn’t always successful. Watching a candle burn down while reciting the Chant of Transfigurations wasn’t the most exciting task. I admit, my mind sometimes wandered.”
  • (Smiling.) “The poor recruit ran into the dining hall in nothing but his knickers!”

-Get more liquor in him and his guard goes way down. Keep in mind that he still maintains his same speech pattern when inebriated. Look at the difference between him at the start of the Wicked Grace scene toward the end:

  • “You seem to have enough people. I have a thousand things to do.”
  • (When the Inquisitor asks for another round of drinks.) (Smiling.) “I’ll get them! Don’t start without me!”

He’s prone to a black and white manner of thinking.
I can go on about my asperger’s headcanon, but putting that aside, he’s a character who sees himself and the world around him as polar opposites, and this tendency feeds into his need to be perfect (ie defeat Corypheus by raising a massively successful army, free from lyrium). This comes out during his Perseverance quest. What’s his response to suffering withdrawal and trying to put in a resignation? Anger. A meltdown. Punching a wall. He likes to feel in control, and loses his temper when he feels caged.

He panics when people go “off script.”
Seriously, when was a time Cullen succeeded with language? He’s purely a man of action, and seems to keep himself centered on a particular subject. (Should you choose his first flirt option and ask to hear his lecture you’ll see it right away.) When people veer from it, he becomes flustered. I’m afraid I only have romance dialogue examples of this.

Cullen: Inquisitor! We were…
Leliana: Eagerly awaiting your presence…some more than others.
Cullen: I wasn’t…I mean, I was…we have work to do.

Inquisitor: “A life of service and sacrifice. Are templars also expected to give up… physical temptations?”
Cullen: “Physical? Why…” (Clears throat.) “Why would you… That’s not expected. Templars can marry – although there are rules about it, and the Order must grant permission… Some may choose to give up more to prove their devotion, but it’s, um, not required.”
Inquisitor
: “Have you?”
Cullen: “Me? I… um… no. I’ve taken no such vows. Maker’s breath – can we speak of something else?”

He has a dry, exhausted wit.
He actually tries jokes. They are just subtle and sarcastic. I find his sense of humor similar to Blackwall’s, though the latter is more warm and welcoming.

  • “While I was there, Qunari occupied and then attacked the city, the viscount’s murder caused political unrest, relations between mages and templars fell apart, an apostate blew up the Chantry, and the Knight-Commander went mad. Other than that, it was fine.”
  • “At this point, the headache I’m developing is preferable to the company.”

He’s not going to say sorry…until he does.
This is specifically pertaining to his romance arc, but if you choose to write it it’s good to note that while he remains unapologetic in his worldviews, when it comes to consent and his partner’s comfort? It’s a different picture. 

  • (After kissing Inquisitor.) “I’m sorry.”
  • ”Does it bother you?”
  • ”I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Stims, glorious stims.
Make use of his stance: arms crossed, guarded, clutching his sword. The way he flexes his neck or rubs at the base of his skull. The shifting of his feet. Pinching the bridge of his nose. There are characters like Cassandra or Solas who stand perfectly still in conversation, arms crossed behind their back in scenes. Cullen’s body language is far more expressive, and indicative of his level of comfort (or discomfort).