#Dragon's Dogma 2 fanfic

[chessalein]

Here is the first chapter of "Flames of destiny"

Its a Dragon's Dogma 2 fanfic so please be aware that there will be major spoiler.

[choccy-milky]

bruh i need to vent about a rude comment i got on my recent chap and also about clora, cuz its something thats been on my mind for a while now. it has spoilers to my most recent chap tho so im putting it below

so in my most recent chap clora gets hit by the killing curse but thanks to seb sacrificing himself for her, it doesn’t work/she survives. and I got a rly rude comment about how that’s super cringe and that clora is a "shoe horning of every possible manifestation of Mary-Sueism I have ever seen." theyre dropping my fic after almost 500k words bc apparently THAT’S where they draw the line and that "just somehow pulling it out the bag and surviving a killing curse from the power of love. In simpler terms, it’s absolutely cringe worthy" and "forgive me if I rolled an eye at the yet again invincible nature of Clora Clemons-the-one-eighth-Veela-extraordinaire"

BUT LIKE LMAO TELL ME U DIDN’T READ/WATCH HARRY POTTER WITHOUT TELLING ME. that’s literally what happens to harry??but its only cringe when it happens to our "mary-sue" clora? like yeah sure love magic might be a bit cringe but IM LITERALLY JUST PULLING FROM THE SOURCE MATERIAL. of all the things to take issue with in my fic and interpretations, theyre taking issue with something that’s canon BAHAHA.

and since im on the topic of clora being mary sue can I just say I hate the misogyny/internalized misogyny that i've seen some people (NOT A LOT, THANKFULLY) treat her with. like i get it, im not pale and blonde and as conventionally pretty as clora is, but even if I was, is that a reason to hate me?? and does being beautiful and well-liked = mary sue? bc as far as I know, mary sue is a chara who is just naturally amazing at everything and doesnt need to try hard and theyre just inexplicably great for no reason (like mc in the base game BAHHAA) if anything the mary sue in MY fic is seb LMAO (but hes a boy so its ok). like clora has worked hard and studied magic all her life due to being a squib and wanting to make up for not being able to DO it. she isnt good at flying, seb is still better at her than duelling, shes really short sighted when it comes to doing/thinking whats best for others and can be a huge idiot.... and like. the only guys that have even shown interest in clora on a real scale have been seb and leander (and then lawley for blackmail purposes, and also bc he hates seb) so its not like literally everyone is falling over themselves for her?? like her interactions with the main cast of boys (ominis, garreth, amit) theyre all indifferent to her LMAO but still, the fact that shes pretty and guys here and there might look at her and go o shes cute! doesnt make her a mary sue SORRy thats just called being attractive idk its just annoying that ppl automatically see a nice kind beautiful female character without any VISIBLE flaws and go SHES TOO PERFECT!! MARY SUE!! WAH IM JEALOUS! and like I get it bc when I was younger I probs would have been annoyed by clora as well due to my own insecurities and internalized misogyny but hey, how about u just realize that’s ur own problem and your own jealousy, and not a real one HAHAH anyway ive since evolved bc I used to be a ‘not like other girls’ type girl back in highschool. trying to be super tomboy-y bc I thought being feminine was cringe and too basic but now ive embraced it and love girly things and dresses and charas like clora who are still strong and showcase their strengths and weaknesses in subtler ways, and I want to smooch her and make out with her. get behind me clora ill protect you🤺🤺🤺

[dd-wyd]

Why him?

What had he gotten himself into? Until now, he had been trying to ignore the signs, but now there was a horde of Pawns before him, eager to serve.

Why him? Why did it have to be him? Bertrand had been looking forward to a quiet life in his sunset years, now that he finally left the military. His years as soldier and veteran of several conflicts already weighed him down. And now he was... Arisen? Had to slay a dragon - nay, the dragon?

Why did it have to be him?

"Simply paint with your mind's eye the loyal attendant whom you would have serve you," the woman said.

He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He tried to think of his fallen comrades - but would that be right? Would that even work? His mind had other plans. An unbidden memory of a young elven archer came to his mind.

No!

He tried to think of anyone, anything else, but the memory wrestled itself into the forefront. Many years ago, when he was much younger, he had been fighting off Battahli skirmishes near the border. During one night as the soldiers sat around the campfire, exhausted and drained, there was a sound coming from the nearby woods. They thought it a possible ambush and investigated.

He could barely see in the dark forest, his lantern offering little aid when he heard another twig snap. Without thinking he whirled around, sword swinging - paranoid to be ambushed. Scared.

The high pitched yelp of pain gave him pause. The man who fell backwards onto the leaf-covered ground was no beastren. 'Twas an elf. A young-looking elf, now clutching his bleeding chest, blue eyes wide.

Bertrand fell to his knees beside the boy, tried to undo the damage, but his blade had cut deep and there was no hope. The elf didn't say anything - just stared at him with his ice blue eyes and a shocked expression, as his blood stained the ground. And before long he was gone...

Bertrand had never forgiven himself for this. His paranoia and inexperience had cost the young man his life. It was a lesson that weighed heavy on his conscience. The elven boy's blue eyes etched into his memory.

He heard a sound and opened his eyes again, only to see his Pawn step out of the rift... looking like the young elf he had tried so hard to forget.

[wraithwars]

Not me seeing a minor character and falling in love.

[bearlytolerant]

Fandom: Dragon’s Dogma 2

Pairing: Arisen/Phaesus

Chapter Rating: Mature

AO3

Figures spin in an array of silks. Donning masks feathered or scaled or embellished in some format or another. Fancy birds and beasts alike. And her eyes watch from the shadowed corner of the room.

Blonde hair. Braided bun. Blue plumed mask.

Blonde. Braided. Blue.

The description plays on repeat for her target of a delivered letter. A noblewoman—Lady Henrietta—who can be swayed to the side of the arisen. To her side. Not that she cares for her position or any side swaying (unless it’s in reference to a pretty woman) but she cares for Ser Brant and Regentkin Sven and they are the ones pulling all the strings. Someone always is. She’d made an attempt at convincing Brant to let a pawn go in her stead but it failed. Miserably. So she resigns herself to playing puppet. At least she can don a pretty dress, drink and dance. Besides, their hard work on her behalf should be rewarded, no? And it’s not like it’s a difficult assignment. She might even be best suited for it, her whole life spent knowing the subtle details of each of her goats to call them by name. These nobles are just goats.

More masqueraders filter through the doorway and something new plays on the violin, soft and sensual. Half the candles are blown out, casting a warm, moody glow on cheeks unshadowed. Roses in a vast array of pinks and reds fill vases around the room, and the sweet fragrance cannot drown out the scent of sweat and sex that permeates the air.

Gwyn manages to spot a woman matching the description she’s searching for. But the blue of her dress is caught up in a twirl on the dance floor, the same blue plumes of her mask taking flight before she can even peel herself off the pillar. With slumped shoulders, she sighs and mindlessly adjusts her own scaled black mask. Patience is almost too steep a price for paragonal virtue.

A shiver runs up her spine and she averts her gaze from the dancers to scan the dim-lit recesses between the marbled columns nearby. Her eyes land on a tall figure, dressed in black with mask to match, hands clasped behind his back. The gold accents on both mask and robe gleam when the flickering flame catches the metallic just so. His attire is different. Not Vermundian in style but more Battahli, and she wonders what a noble from the neighboring country is doing here. Surely events such as these exist in his own courts and ballrooms. Does he just want to bask in the revelries of Vermundian customs or is he on a mission, much the same as she? A half smirk tugs at those lips, eyes never leaving her and his bearded jawline is accentuated by the candle’s half-light. Like a moth to his flame, she floats over to him.

He’s not quite as tall as her up close. And not everything is black. The habit beneath the robes is a deep shade of purple and a thick, wine red cord is tied about his waist. All of it is luxurious garb, the kind only befitting nobles and she wonders what title he carries back home.

His eyes remain fixated on her. More often her chest than any other feature. She can’t say she wouldn’t do the same if she were him. But isn’t that what these little masquerades are about? They say it’s to celebrate The (false) Sovran but everyone knows what those celebrations entail. Unadulterated lust and stolen moments of forbidden fornication disguised as dancing. She smooths her hands down her corset, his eyes never straying from her body. At least he carries no false pretenses about his desires. She determines she likes him already and closes the small gap between them.

A tilt of his head and his eyes flick back up to hers with a pleased hum. “Why, you’re—”

His voice is like a hypnotic rumble carried on smoke laden clouds. Or velvet sheets caressing the skin just before that first light of dawn peeks through the curtains. A voice she associates with satiated desire coupled with possession and she wants to be his tonight. She just knows with that deep decadent tone and alluring cadence that he’s the type to talk you through an orgasm and if not, she’ll take enjoyment from hearing that voice of his relinquish a moan while threading her fingers through his raven colored locks. Raising a brow in piqued interest, she hopes he continues speaking.

“No, pay me no mind.”

“A senseless request when you have caught my attention and are all that consumes my mind now.”

A small smirk but her bold attempt at flirting is not enough to make him blush. He unfolds his arms from behind his back, dispersing the tension of his haughty posture with a roll of his wrist. “We who are gathered here are naught but nameless nobles. Twould be uncouth to inquire after another’s identity.”

She wants to laugh. Ask how many times he’s rehearsed such an alliterative line or if he’s the type to succumb to such formalities. But the way he turns each word into goosebumps on her arms has her trading her almost-laugh in for fire running through her veins. She no longer even cares about his name. Would it be uncouth if she skipped banter altogether and went straight to sex in the corridor? Does she care if it was? She surmises she aught to at least dance with him first.

“All such speak of identity aside, might I ask you to dance?”

“I would be a fool to deny you.”

“You would indeed, my lord.” He offers a small bow before taking the lead.

Fingers cool to the touch, hers interlock with his until they find a place amongst the other masked dancers. Somehow her memory serves her for once when she recalls the required four-steps and turn for this particular dance but her mind wanders. One-two steps and he’s too far away. The third and the fourth, brings him back and she wants him closer. Wants him to stay. Desires his fingers skimming along her skin, playing her like the violin, her sighs harmonizing with his.

“You seem distracted,” he says when they rejoin, fingers interlocking with hers, raising their arms into the air as they slowly circle one another. His lips, thin and yet so alluring, are so close. Too close. Not close enough.

“Are you not?”

Though taciturn, the desire that burns behind his own dark eyes, reveals a satisfactory answer.

A catch of breath and his eyes don’t leave her as she steps back, spins and then they trade partners. Another four-steps that she must focus on or else be tripped up, and she loses sight of him with the next twirl. The music comes to an end. The crowd claps, pressed in tight together. She stretches on tip-toes and searches above the crowd. Spies his robe slipping smoothly away toward the fringes and she follows, almost forgetting the whole reason she’s at this masquerade.

A collision. A gasp. And wine is spilled down the front of her bodice but she spots that braided, blonde and blue and remembers the letter. Squeezing past the clumsy, wine-spilling noble, she reroutes herself, trailing after the blue dress.

A hand gently wraps around her wrist from the shadows and she’s pulled away from her pursuit.

“There you are.”

“My lord, I hardly think I was lost. You are the one who left and are in need of searching out.”

“Am I?”

She grants him an easy smile, taking in his form. “Indeed. Though, you are found now.”

A hum of acknowledgment and he folds his arms across his chest.

“I regret that I must leave you for a moment but I have need to speak with a friend. But after, if it would please you, I would relish in the opportunity to share another dance.”

“I was thinking we could share in a moment more—private.”

“I believe there is a storage—”

He interrupts, lips almost against her ear as he says, “let us reconvene when the clock strikes the next hour.”

She nods. Searches out Lady Henrietta. It’s all hush hush and a secret exchange gone well before Gwyn is almost sprinting around the outer hallway, blotting away the wet spot of spilled wine on her black dress with a kerchief she stole from a man in a Beastren mask.

She will definitely be early.

Heart racing as the clock tolls the new hour, Gwyn readjusts her position on a forgotten desk littered with old, dusty books buried in the ballroom's storage closet behind a room divider. Remembering to breathe, she quells her nervous excitement. But it all shatters when the door creaks open and the gentle hum of a spell is cast. She marks down another certainty. But is he a mage or sorcerer? Or some combination of the two? She resigns herself to thinking it doesn’t matter.

“I presume you found your way easily enough?” She hopes it’s her masked tryst and not a guard she’s speaking to.

“Indeed,” he answers and her momentary worry dissipates.

“You did lock the door, yes?” Though, she can make the assumption easily enough if he felt the need to use magic.

Rounding the room divider, she takes in his handsome form and it’s a shame she can’t peel off that mask and those robes to reveal all of what’s underneath. To see what face that growl of a voice comes from. But his mouth will have to do as he inches closer and she tugs the wine colored cord around his waist. He nearly loses balance, but braces himself, palms on either side of her. Cupping his chin in her hand, she captures his dark brown gaze and slowly inches toward him, breath on his lips.

“Yes. And we shall remain uninterrupted for a few hours,” he says.

“Hours?”

He closes the gap between them, lips pressing against hers in a surprisingly gentle way and her fingers crawl along his jawline and slip to the back of his neck where she twirls a dark lock around her finger. Heart thudding wildly, she releases all of her pent up tension with a tug of his hair. A soft, pleasant gasp and she smiles against him. Deepens the kiss with a slant of her lips and flick of her tongue, she yanks him even closer. But he breaks away with a coy smile.

“Time is needed for a fruitful and thorough experience.”

“Thorough hmm?”

“Might I inquire of you?

“Go on.”

“How well,” he reaches down, hooking his fingers under the hem of her dress, thumbs sliding across her thighs, as he slowly shuffles the fabric upward, bunching it around her hips, “do you follow instruction?”

She expects a grin but only seriousness lingers in his gaze. “I suppose it depends upon who is instructing and if they are worthy of my obedience or not.”

“Hmm,” he says thoughtfully, inching to his knees. A press of his lips against her inner thigh and his eyes flick back up to hers. “I shall make myself worthy then.”

[fangbangerghoul]

10. I still remember how you taste.

For Eric and Ghoul 😈

Thank you for giving me one of these!!

I had to let this sit for a little while because as usual my brain couldn't just do one snippet. It needed a whole backstory and reasoning. So I had to wait for the ideas to find their calm to start writing it.

I hope you both don't mind but I couldn't write this without including The Boys.

So featuring Quil whom is @bearlytolerant pawn and featuring Ambrosius whom is @lisa-and-shadow pawn!

Maybe this is what I needed to get me started on their fic adventures.

(also this is raw written from my notes so forgive spelling errors, Grammer, etc. I just had to get it out then try to format it on my phone)

************************************************

"Are we to camp here for the night, Arisen?" Quil asked with a bit of earnest. The long day of traveling was wearing down on the team, even Ghoul herself was finally feeling the end of the final stretch. She placed her pack by the spot that was full of ash and charred logs from the previous travelers.

"Yes, might as well. I think even Ambro is starting to slow down. " She sighed.

"Is that a challenge Arisen?" There was a quiet purr of amusement that came from the question as Ambrosius, the large beastren stretched for the heavens. Eric was already sitting on the ground only a few steps from him.

"No, no, not this time." She chuckled as she stepped out the way for Quil to prepare the fire. The small greys seemed to be persistent in falling in front of his face as he moved the remaining logs in place.

"Ambro will you fetch us a few more logs, please?" Quil asked as his eyes concentrated on his flint. The other two pawns never questioned when Quil gave an order and sometimes it irked her.

"As you wish." The beastern went ahead in the forest and Ghoul's eyes caught onto Eric again. Many could assume her main pawn was a bit lazy on the outside but she knew when he was siting so comfortably he was also at work. His eyes and ears following all the sounds and moments around them in the forest, to follow his duty to protect her at all costs. Sometimes she pitied him.

"All we have left in our packs are greens and fruits. I'll set out to hunt something." Ghoul announced as she grabbed the bow from their larger pack Eric carried. She wasn't a master at it and the last few times she tried to use it in combat Ambro and Eric both suffered more than their enemy did, on accident. Quil and Eric both eyed her cautiously in subtle fear of the hell she might accidentally unleash while she was restringing it. They trusted her with daggers, spears, swords but a bow they acted like she was the devil in disguise.

"Do you need any assistance Arisen?" Quil asked as he shot to his feet. But she held up her hand for a moment as she bit the tongue that hung out her mouth in concentration.

"I need a little bit of trust, Quil." She murmured as she stepped on the bow softly to hook the other string. Just as she thought she had it the string snapped out of her grip and she closed her eyes in preparation for the sting that she was all too familiar with. Instead she had felt nothing and when she opened her eyes Eric's forearm was in place of where the string was supposed to hit. Ghoul blinked for a moment and then grabbed Eric's arm annoyed at his grand gesture.

"Why did you do that? Are you okay?" She huffed inspecting the welt on his arm and he rolled his eyes at her. "Eric that was unnecessary, I can tolerate the consequences of my own-"

"Arisen I would naught have harm come to you, even if it was foolishly your own doing." He said cooly, he still hadn't removed the arm as she traced the welt. Ghoul dug into her pockets to see any of that balm Quil had made her a few day previous was there. She had remembered she didn't use it all and was determined to at least do this for her tall brute of a pawn.

"You know I hate it when you call me that." She said under her breath so only the two of them could hear. In fact she had commanded him not to call her that after...their one altercation at the last tavern. 

"You don't think I know that, Ghoul?" Eric smiled his devious grin at her but his voice was as low as hers. Now it was her turn to roll her eyes at him, frustrated but also amused at his bravado. She finally found the correct balm and slowly started to rub it over his welt, the grainy goo was leaving an oily like healing substance on it. Even with the smell and sight of it she pressed the welt soft to her lips before wrapping it with bandages.

"Thank you." He praised her with gentleness uncommon with him while keeping their conversation as intimate as the current moment felt. She felt her cheeks redden as the lingering salty taste stayed on her lips from his sweat kept reminding her of the parts of him that also tasted like that.

"Think nothing of it" She cleared her throat for a moment and looked away hoping her cheeks would get the idea and let the redness fade. She picked up her two headed spear as she left his side from the small embarrassment and discomfort she felt.

"I guess fish?" She held up the weapon so both of the men could see and they nodded in sync vigorously. There were the sound of cracked tree branches that garteted all of their attentions and that was Ambrosius came back with a stack of logs in one arm and a large buck on his back.

"I am back master and I have brought back something extra." Everyone who remained in the camp sighed with relief that dinner was going to be sooner than naught.

[linashirou]

Hello everyone!

I'm Margarita, better known as Lina! I'm a 37 year old woman from Chile and this is my Tumblr!

I'm a professional cook, I love photography, EGL fashion, collecting dolls and figures and video games. Here you can find posts about Dragon's Dogma, Metal Gear and about my ship with my only husband, Hal Emmerich. I love writing fanfics and daydreaming with him.

You can add me on PSN! my username there is Lina_Shirow, and here is my fic masterlist!

Metal Gear:

The Emmerich's Curse (Explicit, Main, most important project)

Tales from "The Emmerich Curse" (Explicit, side one shots, could be seem like things that happens in between main fic chapters)

Dragon's Dogma:

Sapphire Hearted (Explicit, Mixing fandoms MGSxDD)

Corazón de Safiro (Explicito, versión en español/borrador de "Sapphire Hearted")

I'll also leave links to the artists working on my commissions! they're all highly recommended!

Al dividers I use are made by @saradika-graphics! she has a ton of them to use! please look at her Tumblr

Walter!: He is my illustrator for all things related to "The Emmerich Curse" and he had an amazing shinkawa style!

https://x.com/VenomWalter_art?s=20

Ri!♥ (@notpink-ri) Ri works is amazing! and if you need a fast, awesome work, you have to consider a commission!

https://x.com/notPink_Ri?s=20

Ivichu.jpg (@ivichu-jpg) Ivi makes my Yakuza illustrations and some random stuff! She is Chilean so, if you're from Chile too, you can talk with her to pay in CLP

https://x.com/IvichuJ?s=20

Araceli (@devilzukin7) Ara have an amazing style! I love how she draws Hal!

https://x.com/DevilZukin7?s=20

[soloavengers]

my dd2 squad

[by-glass-and-waves]

I have taken my meds and thus I must word vomit and play word legos, queue posts on stuff before I get pulled back to DD2

I was picking at Courtship and agonizing still on this chapter but then Dragon's Dogma 2 happened my b

some word legos I did a while back, such agony this chapter gives me

If Death was the [setting sun] harbinger of dusk, then the Lamb was herald of the dawn, as radiant as the sun itself. With them came reconciliation. Renewal. Redemption. The chains of the Old Faith broke under the force of their love, liberating him.

[hellsoperator]

Need some pawn/arisen fanfics to consume

[chessalein]

Flames of destiny is now on AO3 ♥ Have fun reading!

Summary:

The two namles people make their way to Melve in hope to find some answers of her past and for evidences that she is the real arisen. They way isn't as peaceful as it seemed to be on the first look and the pawn learns something new that will change life for him in a good way. In Melve she will find new and old faces that mean well and she couldn't be happier about it.

[bamsara]

A03 Questions Tag Game

I got tagged by: @kagedbird I tag: @onethirdofimpossible, @coffincrows, (first two that come to mind) and anyone else who wants to do the game

1 – How many works do you have on AO3?

At the time of writing this post, currently 30 fics. (Not including any fics or written works that are not posted to AO3)

2 – What's your total AO3 word count?

1,066,633

3 – What fandoms do you write for?

Formerly: Don't Starve, FNAF, Dragons Dogma, Invader Zim

Currently: Cult of the Lamb

4 – What are your top five fics by kudos?

Solar Lunacy, Celestial Omens, Bytes of Lunacy, The Rehabilitation of Death, Saturday Insomnia

5 – Do you respond to comments?

I try to but I also get very nervous responding because I often don't know what to say back and I feel like it's almost rude or disrespectful to respond to a comment, esp the very nice ones that are long and in-deph with just a keysmash or a bunch of emojis, but I do read every single one since I have email notifications on for them

I'd like to sit down and respond to many but I really don't want to make it awkward so pls dear god readers forgive me

6 – What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't like unhappy endings. I enjoy angsty stories but I like when it's at least ending happy to me

7 – What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Not posted? Solar Lunacy

Ongoing? TROD

8 – Do you get hate on fics?

Not really? Most adults (in my experience) know the 'don't like don't read' rule and know basic online etiquette. I've gotten some for discontinuing a fic or switching fandoms though

9 – Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I don't write or draw NSFW! I like to make some suggestive themes sometimes, but I'm a very ace person, it's not something I do often. (I do have a current running goal that if my friend reaches their donation goal for their medical bills that I would give NSFW a shot, but again its not really my cup of tea)

10 – Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nah I haven't written any cross overs, but I do draw them sometimes. Recently I've been spinning a Alice in Wonderland x COTL crossover in my head.

11 – Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep. I've had people copy and paste my work, go in with a thesaurus to change a few words (like changing 'angry' to mad, 'upset' to 'sad', and so forth) to try and avoid detection and re-posted my written work under a different title name. AO3 staff took them down for violating their policy against plagiarism though

12 – Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. I wouldn't mind it so as long as I'm asked before hand, though not on anon so I can actually work with the person to prevent any mistranslations or mishandling, and that I don't want my work posted to other websites

13 – Have you ever co-written a fic?

I think I did when I was a teen but I cannot remember now

14 – What's your all-time favorite ship?

Eh I don't have any favorites, just ones I really focus on for a long while

15 – What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Pass.

16 – What are your writing strengths?

I can sit down for hours or several days and work on a writing wip completely in the zone. I cant do it on command but its at least something I can do

17 – What are your writing weaknesses?

Spelling and grammar, and sometimes long running sentences. I just kinda write, theres not really a goal for it to be perfect though so as long as the story gist and vibe is right, im fine with it

18 – Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it before but only minor, had a friend help me with it (one or two lines of dialogue) Aside from that, I'm not comfortably fluent enough in anything to do it again without assistance

19 – First fandom you wrote for?

Soul Eater, when I was wayyy too young to be posting anything on the internet. My fanfics I wrote are still on fanfic.net to this day

20 – Favorite fic you've written?

It's inbetween TROD and EE&E right now

[dd-wyd]

He was too old for this

His back ached. His knee gave him trouble - it had never fully recovered from that one time, a goblin jump-kicked straight into his leg.

His hand ached. He balled a fist and opened it again, inspecting his calloused fingers in the campfire's light. He was too old for this. His body too battered from decades of service.

Barely half a year had passed since he laid down his arms, but he felt it. His body had already grown accustomed to the easier days of the simpler life. To not having to wear heavy armor all day, not having to swing a sword every day, and not being on his feet from dawn till dusk.

His muscles were sore. They remembered the motions but were lacking in strength. He was too old for this.

He should have just ignored the dragon. Why did he pick up his sword and try to fight impossible odds? Why did he charge in to defend the villagers?

To defend the villagers...

He sighed heavily.

"Copper for your thoughts," came the innocent voice of the naïve pawn sitting with him by the fire.

Bertrand glanced at the boy but swiftly returned his gaze to the flames. He couldn't bear looking at that face.

"I'm too old for this," he grumbled.

"Oh, you're not that old, Arisen! I'm sure you've got enough vigor left in you to see this through," the pawn replied in a chipper tone.

Bertrand snorted - half amused, half dismissive, "You think too much of me."

"You're the Arisen!" the boy countered, "You've been picked by the dragon. He must have seen something in you."

"A foolish old man."

"Aw, don't say that, Arisen. You speak like you have no good qualities."

Bertrand looked at the boy, eyeing him for a moment. "You know me for barely a day. What could you possibly know about my qualities?"

"Oh that's easy, Arisen," the young elf replied ever so cheerful, "You're brave, and protective, and care deeply about others. Even complete strangers! And you do not shy away from putting yourself in harms way to help people. Like that recruit we saved from the harpies. A lesser man would've just left him to his fate."

Bertrand's brows knit together, "That's nothing special."

The boy smiled at him, "See, this is why you're the Arisen."

[red-dead-sakharine]

The Masterlist-masterlist V2

▶️ Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

gifs, screenshots, videos, soundbytes, fanfics, imagines, lore breakdowns & theories

▶️ Lord of the Rings & Dragon's Dogma Masterlist

gifs, videos, screenshots & memes

▶️ Mixed Masterlist

including gifs, screens and musings about

Red Dead Redemption

Tintin

Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland

King Arthur - Legend of the Sword

Hornblower

Peter Stormare

Tremors

Dragon Age

Team Fortress 2

and more...

[bearlytolerant]

I wasn’t originally going to share anything today but @fangbangerghoul kindly tagged me (thank you ) so here is a teensy bit spicy bit below a cut from my phaesus x arisen wip. Tagging anyone who sees and wants to share.

He does not think of her.

Not of her legs hooked around his hips. And the way she had pleaded and begged, whimpering so deliciously for a release that he was certain reverberated through the entirety of the ballroom’s outer hallway. His fork clatters against his half-empty plate. Chair groaning in protest as he pushes away, he tosses his napkin and retreats from the dining room.

He does not think of her.

Not of her perfect mouth and her hungry greed with which she had consumed him. From his lips, to his fingers, to his aching, throbbing cock as he rocks into Disa, sputtering and spilling those memories that he does not dare think about while the Queen Regent graces him with a pleasurable sigh.

He does not think of her.

He does not think of the Arisen.

He does not think.

Rolling onto his back and staring into the plush red canopy above him, he balls the sheets up into his fist. He briefly glances at Disa. She is already off the bed, surely righting whatever part of her appearance she has deemed out of place. Ready to move on to her next task. There’s a comparison to be made here. Reminiscing on the Arisen, he can almost feel her fingers threading through and mussing his hair, offering a soft smile and pressing a lasting kiss on his lips. Slowed and unhurried and—he blinks once to remember. Twice to forget. And thankfully, Disa speaks and breaks the spell.

“Have you heard the rumors circulating the halls today?”

“No. I do not entertain such frivolous idle chatter.”

[fangbangerghoul]

Snippet Sunday Monday

Thank you so much for the tag @roguishcat ! I enjoyed your snippet! It reminded me I really should get on the ball with my own BG3 fic but lately Starfield and now Dragon's Dogma 2 has been on the brain.

I just posted a chapter update today for Heavy Metal Lover but this photo has been speaking to me since I had captured it the other day.

I'll tag: @bearlytolerant @lisa-and-shadow and @arisenreborn since they are my current dd2 content creators atm. No push to post. I know y'all have already, but I figured I should tag somebody. Anyone who reads this and wants to participate is welcomed to join and tag me.

Below the cut the scene that popped into my mind from the photo:

Eric the Viking x Ghoul content (arisenxpawn)

“You know I trust you, Arisen.” Eric said with subtle apprehension. There was something on his mind and Ghoul could see it float like starlight in his eyes.

“And I trust you, Eric.” She reassured him, hoping to ease out of him to speak his mind. Any other time he gave his thoughts freely and unapologetically so she was concerned about the sudden hesitance. It was in his stance, his shoulders, his tight grimace. Eric has proven to be fearless over and over again within their travels. More fearless than even Ghoul herself could be sometimes; so, she wondered what ate at him this way.

“Then perhaps we should continue a different path.” He let out with a breath of relief as if it had pained him to hold it in for so long. “The Queen Regiment’s games are no fool’s play. The way they watch you here. It is a cause of concern.”

“Concern?” Ghoul absorbed Eric’s warning. He was usually the first to claim within the group he knows not of what the next step they should take but it seemed the large pawn used his ignorance as a defense. “Do you no longer believe in me?”

“What?” Eric broke his stare at the wanning fire and turned his blue glacier eyes onto her. There was a flash of pain that decorated his face. “I stand by you and only you. My thoughts are only of you, Arisen.”

“What a plague it must be then.” Ghoul muttered softly. She closed the space between them and reached towards his face, naturally Eric leaned in freely allowing her touch. Her fingers gently moved a stray of hair that hung near his eyes. “You should think of other things. Your health. Your safety.”

“A plague that I will let consume me with pleasure. Forgo my health and my safety. It does not matter if it hinders your success.” His large hand wrapped around her wrist to hold her in place and Eric continued his gaze into her golden eyes. His eyes spoke more than his lips did and she was curious of the exact thoughts that plagued her pawn. “I believe in your destiny and I will protect you till the end. But if I were to speak so freely, I do not recommend our current path. I do not wish to see ill fall upon you, my master.”  

“When will you call me by my name?” Ghoul scoffed softly in amusement. She had told it to him on many occasions at this point. She knew he knew it.

“Are you not hearing my words?” Eric asked with an edge of annoyance. There was his usual attitude, quick to change like the season.

“I do. I do.” Ghoul slowly pried his fingers off of her and he let go only to cross his arms against that broad stone chest of his. “I hear you.”

The writing bug has hit me today. It's long overdue. I have missed writing creatively.