This. This. This entire conversation with Morrigan actually makes me want to sob. She and my Tabris always becomes close friends over the course of DAO; that, paired with the fact that my Tabris always romances Alistair, makes everything about this hurt so much more when you take DAO's ending into account.
Her confusion over why my Tabris didn't send her away. Why she didn't abandon her after they learned of Flemeth's plans. Why Tabris went out of her way to slay Flemeth and bring her the true grimoire. She asks Tabris why, and is baffled when the answer is, "I did it because I'm your friend," as if it's that simple.
The way Morrigan looks at the warden, the way her voice cracks when she says, "I want you to know that while I may not always prove... worthy... of your friendship, I will always value it."
She knows how this will end; Flemeth sent her with the wardens with the end goal of stopping the blight and obtaining the old god soul through the dark ritual. Morrigan knows that Alistair and Tabris are the only Grey Wardens here, and assuming they don't find more, one of them will have to die defeating the archdemon unless they agree to do the dark ritual.
With that context, her asking Alistair, "And what if a Grey Warden has forced to choose between the Warden he loved and ending the Blight? What should his choice be?" suddenly has so much subtext weaved through the words that I'm gonna start foaming at the mouth. She's practically telling Alistair that a warden has to die. She's scrutinizing his reaction to find any hint that suggests he would agree to the dark ritual in order to save himself and the woman he loves. And when he doesn't choose, she has her answer.
Morrigan made comments to Tabris about him, almost hopeful that their relationship was just a physical thing between them and not actually riddled with feelings... and then gives disapproval when Tabris says she loves him.
She doesn't want the warden to die; hell, she doesn't want Alistair to die, either; whether because she does actually care about him or because she knows it'll break her friend's heart if she loses him, or both!
Things would be so much easier if the only two Grey Wardens left to defeat the blight didn't fall in love, wouldn't they, Morrigan?
She knows that in the end, no matter the outcome, she will lose the woman she called sister and it's devastating.
Morrigan, who has never known true friendship. Who grew up isolated in the woods with an abusive mother and terrible implications for her future. Who discovered said mother planned to take over her body just as she did with her other daughters. Who doesn't understand kindness as it was rarely given to her without a catch. Who isolates herself from the others in camp. Who finally has a companion she cares about... and in the end, if her plan works and the dark ritual is completed, she'll end up pregnant and alone and wearing Tabris' resentment like a tender wound on her heart.
Or Tabris will reject the ritual, and will die to the archdemon.
Or her lover will.
I just- the dynamic between the warden, romanced Alistair, and Morrigan is so good and painful and rich that I'm gnawing on furniture as we speak.
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fever dream? just woke up from some insane nightmare where I had 4 guns pulled on me and was accused of murder and somehow ended up in multiple other countries on the run with a close friend I can of course not remember but who seemed very willing to stand up for me no matter what. the cop who interviewed us was oddly nice but at this point I can’t remember if we were lying or telling the truth 👁️👄👁️ all I know is my sister tried to stitch me up so I’ll be having words
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I've been going through a very interesting, and important gender and gender presentation journey over the past four months, which culminated into a comment that has been bothering me for a while.
Since about mid-September, I've been slowly gaining a lot of self-confidence for various reasons, and I've also been looking at the parts of myself that I've hidden underground inside my mind for a long while. Including my own feelings about my own femininity.
For those who have known me for a while, you'll know I've always been more masculine leaning in presentation and gender. As it turns out, I sort of pendulum swing across the entire spectrum.
Me and the friend who's been by my side this entire journey (who, funnily enough, is the only allocishet friend I have), had this inside joke with each other that if I showed up to a meeting with the gang in a skirt they wouldn't know what to do. And so we eventually got me a skirt.
I can't begin to describe the amount of pure bliss I felt when I saw myself in it. I'd only felt that feeling once before, when my dad put one of his old ties on me for a fun little game we were playing in 2020. The only difference was that when that happened, I was still in denial about who I was. When I looked in the mirror, it was something I couldn't even begin to grasp onto. When I looked into the mirror just barely two weeks ago, I finally saw me.
And so we ended up making a whole "scene girl" outfit for me. This was revealed in almost its entirety a few days later, and we were right. They really didn't know what to do with me. With the exception of my mom and one of my oldest friends (who both said I looked cute, and I did! I felt cute!), the actual group I hang around with didn't know how to react to it. One of my friends just ignored the whole thing like it was normal (hurtful, but it's whatever), another kept asking when it happened and trying to wrap his head around the change (funny), and one eventually ended up saying something that's been bothering me.
Initially, they were really surprised I had legs because he forgot that I did. But later, when we were talking about a character that me and the aforementioned friend had made for a sitcom (a transman who dresses femininely for the most part), he turned to me and said "so like you, a transmasc drag queen".
While yes, that fits that character fairly well, it didn't sit right when about me. Because no, as it turns out, I'm not a transmasc drag queen. I'm not really . . . anything. When I dress more masculine, it's queer because it borders on tomboy/butch and transmasc (which, I know those terms can coexist, but I'm using it as a scale of masculinity because I can't explain it any other way), and when I dress femininely it's also queer because I'm someone who inherently goes towards androgyny/masculinity as my comfort expression.
Here's the funny part, though. Of the four people I hang around, three are queer in some way. The only one, the only one, who saw that I'm fine with fluidity in pronouns, jokes about my gender, and just sort of knew from the beginning that I was suppressing my femininity (which he told me after the Skirt Moment, so that was a fun night), was allocishet. I could get into all the weird shit that has gone on with me and the group, but the least queer person in the group understood, almost immediately, that I, the most verbally and visually queer of the group, enjoy funny little gender jokes. Hell, a few days after meeting I was doing something in my friend's kitchen and he said "oh sorry I was raised in a republican household, if there's someone in the kitchen I assume it's a woman".
So I guess what I'm saying, right now, is that I'm not any particular gender identity, I'm not trans anything, I don't really enjoy the fit of genderqueer even, I just. Am. And I wish that people irl would be willing to have fun with that more, rather than being so fucking afraid that I'm going to have a breakdown and kill someone for misgendering me.
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