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shivunin · 11 months

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A Good Fight

(Arianwen Tabris/Zevran Arainai | 2,440 Words | AO3 Link | CW: Mild sexual references/sexual tension)

Summary: Things that annoy Tabris: frivolous conversation and being the butt of a joke. Why, then, can she not get the insufferable Crow out of her mind?

“May I rest my head on your bosom?” the Crow asked somewhere behind Tabris. “I might cry.”

Tabris grimaced, casting a look at Alistair. He echoed her glance, nose wrinkled. It galled her to agree with him, but plainly they were in accord when it came to this.

“You can cry well away from my bosom, I’m certain,” the mage said severely.

“Reconsidering keeping him around yet?” Alistair asked in a low voice, bending closer.

Wen pressed her lips together, eyes narrowed, and glanced behind her at the other two. Zevran gazed at Wynne soulfully, one hand pressed to his chest. Wynne was grimacing, staff thumping into the dust of the road as they climbed the hill.

“Did I tell you I was an orphan?” the former Crow went on, his voice sorrowful. “I never knew my mother.”

“Egad,” Wynne said, disgust as plain in her voice as it was in the lines of her body. “I give up.”

She sped up, outstripping Zevran and both Wardens. Arianwen watched the mage go, shaking her head, and glanced behind her again.

Zevran caught her eyes at once and winked. Wen stared back, lips still pressed into a tight line.

“Maybe I am,” she told Alistair, and turned away again.

Before them, the harried mage left small clouds of dust above the road. The late afternoon light diffused there, giving the road an odd sort of dreamlike quality.

“Could still give killing him a shot,” Alistair muttered.

“What was that? I could not hear you over the sound of all that armor,” Zevran said, abruptly behind them. Arianwen took a large step to the left and carried on.

“Oh, nothing,” Alistair said. Wen could feel him looking at her, but she ignored the desperate glance. “We, ah…thought your conversation was interesting. That’s all.”

“Ah—so I suppose you also have an opinion about murder, then?”

There was something under the words. Some sort of…double meaning, hidden undercurrent. Ugh. Wen hated plenty of things, but trying to understand what someone meant when it wasn’t what they actually said ranked highly on the list.

“Let’s not,” she said.

“Not what? I am afraid I do not understand you.”

If he started talking about her bosom, she’d just stab him, Wen decided. When she sped up, the assassin matched her.

“Talk.”

“Pardon? I did not catch what you said.”

“I, ah—wouldn’t push your luck, there,” Alistair said, jogging for several steps until he drew even with the pair of them. “She’s got a short temper.”

“Yes, I had determined as much,” Zevran said. “And how lovely she looks when she is thinking of death.”

Wen stepped directly into his path and stopped moving, forcing the assassin to stop in his tracks or dodge to the side. He chose the former, still smiling broadly, though he stopped only an inch or two away. Arianwen met his eyes squarely, thinking.

She didn’t think she wanted to kill him. The man was decent enough at what he did. Fighting him had been the best part of fighting any of the Crows. Actually, he’d been her favorite person to fight since they’d left Ostagar. There was something fluid about the way he moved that—well. Fascinated her, actually. She liked watching him.

No—no, she didn’t want to kill him. What would be the point now? It certainly wasn’t as if she cared that Wynne, of all people, was annoyed. Actually, she should be thanking him. For once, the mage hadn’t been hovering over her shoulder and asking questions.

“I don’t think so,” she said, to the dust in the air as much as she was speaking to either man, and turned to continue up the hill without any additional elaboration.

“Yes, I see what you mean,” Zevran said behind her.

“We aren’t friends, assassin,” Alistair said stiffly, but added in a quieter voice: “Best to avoid prodding at her when she’s already tired.”

“Mmm,” Zevran allowed. Wen gritted her teeth, irritated again, but he went on a moment later. “I shall take your advice very seriously, Warden.”

Wen glanced behind her one more time, expecting the same cocky grin or perhaps another wink. Instead, she found a flash of something she didn’t expect:

Exhaustion. Hiding in the corner of his eyes, in the subtle roll of his shoulders.

Ah. That was harder to ignore.

Wen closed her eyes, willing herself to keep walking. It would be easy. It would be better. He was so annoying; maybe he’d stop talking if he was too tired to manage.

As soon as she reached the top of the hill, she swung her pack from her shoulder and sat back against a fence.

Not for him. Obviously not.

But—maybe it was time for a break. That was all. Redcliffe was almost in sight and they’d probably be busy as soon as they got there. Best they sit and rest now before they no longer had the choice.

She certainly, pointedly did not breathe easier when the Crow sat to her left with an audible sigh of relief.

“Are you quite certain you are ready for this?” the assassin asked.

Wen, who’d deposited the last of her armor to the side of the clearing, nodded curtly. She’d have to be a fool to think he had nothing to teach her. Whenever possible, she did try not to be a fool.

“I need to know all I can. Show me, if you want to.”

The outskirts of the Brecilian rose around them, trees already towering higher than she’d ever seen them before. This place was odd and old, breaking the monotony of carefully planted fields and abandoned villages. She didn’t feel like herself here. It was as if she’d slipped off her skin and found it ill-fitting upon its return. Or—perhaps something hung watching in the air here. Something that saw her, that waited and knew.

She couldn’t say she liked it.

“If I want to?” Zevran flipped the knife in his hand once, neatly. “And here you have been asking so politely, Warden. How could I say no?”

“You’ve just said it,” Wen replied, taking a slow, smooth step to the side. “Obviously you know how.”

“Tch,” he began to circle with her—taking her measure, she thought. Some of the glossy humor fell away, baring the steel beneath. “So literal.”

Wen huffed, refusing to be dragged into a conversation. She’d get distracted by talking and then he’d strike. She knew exactly how this worked.

“First and foremost,” he said, “I have seen you fight. You are very skilled, yes? But you are not careful.”

Wen felt her eyebrows climb. Zevran feinted, she sidestepped, and they resumed pacing each other.

“Are you suggesting I get thicker armor?” she asked.

He laughed, a deeper thing than his usual chuckle. Wen narrowed her eyes.

“You have been spending too much time with Alistair. No—I am suggesting you learn to be quieter,” he said, and moved—it was like his body had become liquid for a moment, flowing so close that she was forced onto her back foot. A blow in the right spot and she was stumbling back, struggling to halt her momentum enough to guard herself.

To her surprise, he did not press his advantage. He took a step back instead, watching her with an odd look on his face. Wen scowled and rolled her shoulders, loosening the muscles that had gone taut.

“I’m plenty quiet.”

“Not quiet enough to be an assassin—and that is what you asked me to teach you, yes?”

Wen pursed her lips. She had asked him. She’d wanted to know how he moved the way he did, but she certainly couldn’t ask him for that. It had been plenty easy to imagine what he’d say in response.

“Fight me, then,” she said, and dropped her knife. It sank into the soft earth point-down, which meant she’d have to be very thorough when she cleaned and oiled it later. At the moment, she didn’t really care.

Zevran cocked an eyebrow at her, but stepped back to set his knife aside.

“Are you quite certain? Surely you would like some sort of explanation first.”

“No,” she told him. “I’m too literal for that.”

Zevran tipped his head back and laughed.

As soon as his eyes were closed, she struck. It ought to have been a glancing blow, only a soft slap to his shoulder to get his attention. The strike never landed. Instead, he flowed away from her and spun, planting a hand on her back and pushing. Wen was ready for it this time. Her weight shifted hard to her back foot, but she did not waver.

“Good,” he said from behind her, but when she reached back to grasp his arm Zevran was already gone.

Arianwen spun slowly, listening. He must have gone up; there was nothing closer than the branches to hide behind. Her heart thudded in her ears, distracting her. Where was he? That rustle in the bushes had the rhythm of a squirrel, the scratching at the bark to her right was certainly a bird, and the crunch in the leaves behind her—

Zevran dropped from above and locked her into his arms before she had a chance to strike back.

“As I was saying,” he told her. “Not very careful.”

Arianwen tried to kick him to little avail. Zevran laughed into her ear, his mouth briefly brushing against the point of it. An odd tingling sensation spread from that point to her cheeks, burning as it went. What was this? Some sort of poison?

Arianwen planted her feet, gripped his arms where they wrapped around her, and flipped Zevran over her head. His eyes were wide when she straddled his chest, a knife already pressed against the hollow of his throat. She could feel his pulse against her knuckles, could feel his breath whenever his ribs expanded between her thighs, and—what was this?

“What did you just do?” she snarled. Zevran’s brows lifted.

“I caught you,” he said.

“Not that. You—”

She pressed her lips together all at once, her face hot, and climbed off of him. If there had been some way for Arianwen to scratch the sensation from her skin with bared nails, she would have done it immediately. It lived somewhere deeper than her skin, entirely beyond the reach of fingertips or knives.

Had he ever touched her skin to skin before? She could not think.

“Well? Teach me,” she demanded, taking several steps away from him. The distance, such as it was, did not help.

Zevran rose more slowly, dusting himself off. She didn’t like the way he was looking at her. It was—speculative. Like he was weighing her against something in his mind.

“Or was that it?” she asked.

“No, no—I was merely thinking how best to show you what I mean,” he said. There was some hidden meaning to his words. She could feel it.

Wen frowned at him, eyes narrowing. What was he actually saying?

“Let us begin again,” he said, spreading his arms. Wen took a deep breath, wishing away the odd burning at the back of her neck and the tips of her ears.

“Let’s,” she gritted out, her heart beating curiously fast, and raised her fists.

“Are you awake yet?” Zevran murmured.

“No,” Wen told him, hand skimming over his loose, night-rumpled hair. Zevran grunted and pressed his face more firmly against her bare chest.

“It should not surprise me when you make jokes,” he said. His lips pressed against the skin over her heart. “And yet…”

“Oh, ha ha,” Wen said, rolling her eyes. “If you’re going to be a pest, you can get off.”

“Oh?” he angled his head until he could look at her, morning light glinting across one golden eye. “Can I?”

“Andraste’s tits,” she muttered, squirming without any real effort to dislodge him.

“Yours are finer by far, I assure you,” he informed her solemnly, pressing a kiss to the nearest of them.

Arianwen rolled her eyes, but threaded her hand through his hair again. Some of the tangles smoothed under her touch, but not enough. He’d still need to comb it when he rose for the day.

She tried very, very hard to pretend that she couldn’t hear the army moving outside their tent.

“Zevran,” she began, her voice soft, and he lifted his head to look at her.

What could she tell him? That there were even odds she would die today? That she was grateful? What more could she possibly tell him now?

“It will be a very good fight, yes?” he said, as if he knew what she was thinking. “Your favorite thing.”

Tabris pressed her mouth closed, searching his face for meaning. She found none. There was only the warmth of his eyes, the comfort of his body pressed to hers. The clamor of steel rose beyond their flimsy canvas walls. Time was almost up. It would be a good fight, yes. If there was anything she loved, it was a good fight.

Arianwen loved Zevran more.

She’d planned to leave him behind, where the fighting was less heavy, but she already knew she wouldn’t be able to bear it. How could she fight through the city, never knowing if he’d been struck by a stray arrow or felled by an ogre? She could not protect him and seek the archdemon both. At least if they were together—at least they would both know. At least neither of them would have to wonder.

Until the end, then, and perhaps whatever came next. At least she knew she wouldn’t be alone.

“Yes,” she said, passing her fingers through his hair one last time. Her hand fell to a stop at his cheek, thumb tracing the bottom point of his tattoo.

“You will remember what I taught you, yes?”

He lifted himself onto an elbow and leaned forward to kiss her. It had been meant as a glancing thing, she thought. It ran deeper than that in the end, desperate hands on shoulders and teeth and tongues and heat. She didn’t want to lose him. She raged at the world, for giving them to each other right on the doorstep of ruin.

“Always,” Wen told Zevran, and clutched him to her when he would have risen to go. He endured this for several moments longer, his breathing uneven, before he pressed a kiss to her cheek and moved away.

When she pushed the blankets aside to stand, his was the hand that pulled her to her feet.

(For Zevwarden Week Day 6: Favorite Things and Pet Peeves. Thanks again @zevraholics!)

#zevran arainai #arianwen tabris #zevwarden #zevran x f!warden #zevran x tabris #zevwarden week 2023 #shivunin scrivening #zevwen #you know someday i gotta write him digging her out of the wreckage after she kills the archdemon #or just that whole sequence from his POV #bc she didn't tell him what was going on but he for sure knew *something* was happening

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gyrovagi · 1 month

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hello and welcome to my gamer's den. here's a quick and dirty guide to the ocs i talk about constantly

CANON PROTAGS/NORMAL MEN. INNOCENT MEN:

eloy "el" surana - i'm like if a control freak could control things ❤️ with blood magic ❤️. generally well-intentioned but hypervigilant, always playing 5d chess about the worst scenario. world's first moral (not necessarily ethical) male bigender manipulator. wields a wholly inappropriate degree of political influence in denerim

seongmin hawke (primarily diplomatic, sword + shield warrior) - afraid that his abandonment issues will leave him. pathologically conflict avoidant, fawn response to the max - up until someone he loves gets threatened, at which point good luck leaving alive lol. 'i don't think i need to talk about my feelings,' says man who just broke the arm of a templar asking around too much about the darktown clinic and then continued making casual conversation with varric as if nothing happened

ciuying "arav'assan" lavellan (archer, assassin) - king of compartmentalization. would really prefer to be one guy helping people on the ground rather than the unwilling inquisitor chained by power he never wanted, fighting for his life to be as politically uninvolved as possible. guy who is duty-bound never to return home

dak-wai (with horns) - prospective rook, direct port of my bg3 durge. tal-vashoth grey warden mage seeking a righteous purpose after a complicated and bloody past, but who has yet to find a better general approach to problems than killing things with hammers.

TGIRLS SAVE THE WORLD(STATE):

sang tabris - (champion) next shem bastard who pisses me off i'm just going to fucking kill you. alistair did you eat yet ^_^. struggling to reconcile an irrepressible hope for a better world with the abject horrors he's been subjected to by the world he lives in at present. morrigan's lesbian husband.

so-min hawke - girl could you at least pretend not to be a chantry-hating apostate in the middle of the gallows. carver just got suddenly pissed off in a darkspawn tunnel and he knows it's not because of the genlocks

r trevelyan - tranquil since 18, and at age 33, honestly dealing pretty well with accidentally getting a magical lobotomy reversed. yeah ok so maybe the random prolonged neutral-expression weeping is a little off-putting. it's hard when you're the white girl who needs to save yourself

INSANE WOMEN AND MALE MANIPULATORS:

ngayu brosca - (reaver) what do you MEAN the fate of the country is dependent on two twenty-year-olds one of whom gets scared looking at the sun. has never once in her life believed she would live past twenty and that's looking increasingly likely as a prediction

rina hawke - when you are endlessly bitter and refuse to deal with it in any healthy way because that would require you to acknowledge your resentment towards the family members you perceive as a burden. chronically insincere, subservient but seething the whole time, wouldn't be able to name a solid belief if you asked her, incapable of self-reflection. crack baby you don't know what you want...

caden trevelyan - (templar) gay transgender homophobic misogynist. has weird ideas about being a man. constantly develops obsessive fixations on authoritative older men. believes he has the divine right to mete out violence. white boy who sucks 🔥

ha-neul lastname - prospective rook, veil jumper. fascinated by magic and magical artifacts. something of an oddity by both dwarven and non-dwarven standards, a guy with an endless thirst for life and little interest in denying himself pleasure or dwelling in guilt, for better or worse. can be surprisingly cynical and self-interested, despite his generally upbeat, affable vibe.

PRONOUNS USERS GOING THROUGH IT:

enasa mahariel - (ranger) deadalive nothing girl who isn't. didn't anticipate that taking the vallaslin of dirthamen, twin brother to death, would be quite so prophetic. very clearly crumbling under mounting pressure while refusing to stop dragging the rotting corpse

bryn hawke - half-avvar on malcolm's side, raised with what avvar beliefs and practices their father could half-remember from childhood. never quite at home in ferelden and struggling to come to terms with the idea they'll never be quite at home in their mother's city either. quietly shouldering other's burdens until it chokes them.

meiying lavellan - turns out when you take an anxiety-ridden elf burdened with excess responsibility since youth out of their familiar environment and support system she'll have a bad time. solas' ex-spouse still misses him… but their aim's getting better!

ASSORTED GUYS:

dea surana - reserved but observant, knows it's best not to attract attention, tries to look after herself and her own in the ways she can. surprisingly worldly/cynical after her brother was taken by the templars at a young age and her life afterwards was spent largely on the road. then her situationship was like 'you know the hero of ferelden is named surana? circle mage, relative of yours?' and now she regularly talks to the king of ferelden

owain trevelyan - never really stopped hoping his older brother would come back from the circle and everything would be fine again. he's socially well-connected and charismatic, and could make for an influential heir to the house with motivation and an advantageous marriage - but he's a lot more interested in dragon hunting and boy bestiesisms with the prince of starkhaven.

valerie trevelyan - black sheep of the family, annoyed that this is more about lesbianism than being a fantasy communist. managed to pull off a 'buy my silence - for $8000 a month i will stop' ploy on her parents at 20, before she knew that this would end with her as the warden-commander's sister-in-law

ga-ying lavellan - middle sibling b/w meiying and ciuying, closer to both of them than they are with each other. tends to take things a little too lightly, an optimist unconcerned with anything outside of the clan and the present. the siblings' dads (and meiying, and his wife) are hoping the birth of his daughter will make him more serious. ciuying likes him as he is.

everybody's parents tend to be less developed than their kids are but they exist. In my mind . there's also a couple other extremely incidental fellas but they'll come up when they come up. i might also ramble about my non-da guys here but (closes my eyes and passes away silently)

#poast before work hashtag grindset #i will elaborate on the dea valerie lore... at some point....!#they are dear to me. valerie runs away from her family and then helps dea and her moms travel from kirkwall to ferelden #in the hopes that the warden-commander actually is her brother and the family can reunite #and all this while still in situationship territory. they have known each other for around 4 years at this point.

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ghoulie-67-baby · 2 years

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Pet- Twilight.

Summary: With a full house of vampires before the Volturi standoff, you seek peace and instead find two that would rather have bloodshed, but no one puts your family in danger.

Warnings: Angst, Anger, Language, Degrading language/behaviour.

Pairing: Human!reader x Cullen family (Platonic/otherwise).

Word count: 1,881.

The house was the busiest I had ever seen it, vampires filling the space that was once quiet and calm. Round every corner, prying eyes seemed to wait and ears could hear everything. There wasn't an escape for me.

No one had done any harm or showed signs of doing any, but people weren't my thing especially when I knew nothing about them.

The attic was off-bounds because Alistair had holed himself up there, Carlisle's office was one of the busiest rooms in the house right now and I couldn't find anywhere comfortable to hide away.

"Y/N, You okay?" Tanya's blonde locks came into focus as I snapped out of my thoughts. I pushed myself off the wall with my shoulder and flashed her a small smile.

"Hey Tanya," I cleared my throat and forced myself to focus on the woman. "M'just not a fan of crowds, or feeling like I'm constantly watched."

"Would you like me to get someone?" Her voice filled with concern as she rested a hand on my arm, eyes flashing with sympathy.

"It's okay," I shook my head with a small smile. "I'm gonna get some fresh air before the weather turns bad." I rested my hand over hers and pressed a polite kiss to her cheek before turning to leave. "See you later," I called over my shoulder.

I practically gulped down the fresh air as I left the house, starting to feel a little more at ease now eyes weren't following my every move. Slipping my sleeves over my hands, I wandered into the cover of the trees. The breeze sent a few shivers through my body and I knew Esme would scold me when she found out I wasn't wearing my coat.

Trudging through the undergrowth, I came across a small clearing, shaded by the trees that encircled a stream of sunlight. With another shiver from the cold of the shade, I wandered into the patch of sunlight and sat with my face tilted towards the concentrated rays.

The goosebumps under my shirt subsided lightly as I warmed up a little, sighing happily as the sounds of nature floated around me. The silence and peace I had longed for at the house soon filled me and the area I had chosen as I laid myself back against the grass, hands clasped over my stomach with my eyes closed.

Satisfaction simmered under my skin as I revealed in the bird songs, harmonised by crickets. My heartbeat finally settled back into a resting rate after the hours of anxiety I had endured.

The times seemed to float by and I was in a state between being asleep and awake before I was disturbed. Two vaguely familiar voices joined the sounds of the forest, seemingly adding to the melody. That was the thing with vampires, even their voices were beautiful and perfect.

"Humans are so careless," One of the voices drifted towards me, speaking in Romanian, a language I just so happened to be fluent in. "Leaving themselves so vulnerable to anything." I held back a smile, unsure if they knew I was awake.

"How do you think the Cullen clan would feel about their pet being left unattended and alone?" The second voice joined in the conversation and my skin bristled at the words, hating being referred to as a pet.

"Hmmm, I'm sure they would be absolutely devastated and furious at the stupidity of their little pet." There was a hint of a smirk in their voice and I fought to stay calm.

"They do look rather beautiful under the sun though, I must admit," The voices got a little closer and I stiffened slightly. I still couldn't put faces to their voices and it unnerved me.

"Yes they do, I'm sure they're enjoying the compliments." A blush had crept up my chest, neck and cheeks at the second's words. "Let's quit pretending to sleep now Pet, surely you should know better than to lie to a vampire." The voice switched to English, unaware of my understanding of their language.

"I'm not a pet." I forced out, in Romanian, between clenched teeth, sitting up and letting my eyes meet theirs in a glare. I recognised they were two of the vampires from the house, Stefan and Vladimir, who only came because they thought it would be a fight.

The two had surprised looks on their faces at my words, smirking at one another before stepping closer to me. I tensed up and brushed off my jeans and sleeves, as they sat in the shade of the trees across from me.

"You seem to be in quite a foul mood Y/N," Vladimir spoke with an amused grin, "Perhaps the pet is feral." He hummed with fake concern.

"Whatever is the matter Y/N?" Stefan' said head tilted with the question, seemingly curious.

"I just don't like being called a Pet to those that I consider my family." I countered, glaring at Vladimir whilst trying to keep my voice strong and steady.

"Your Romanian is perfect," Stefan complimented with a wide smile. "Tell us, where did you learn to speak so well?" I hesitated to answer, waiting to see if he'd sense my discomfort and retract the question but he didn't.

"My mother was Romanian, she insisted I learnt the language," I answered, pulling a few blades of grass from the dirt. "Why aren't you at the house with the others?"

"I'm sure we could ask you the same thing, Pet." Vladimir teased, my annoyance growing.

"I don't do crowds, I thought I'd catch a break out here but obviously that's too much to ask for." Raising an eyebrow, I recognised the amusement in both of their eyes.

"We don't care much for their plans," Stefan chipped in with a look of disgust on his face. "We want to fight the Volturi, not negotiate."

"Yeah well Carlisle wants to avoid a fight, none of us wants a fight." I clambered to my feet, ignoring how my tired body ached in protest. "We want to live in peace, not to start a war." Looking up from my feet, I noticed the two had also stood up.

"Surely you must want to fight back?" Vladimir looked at me in confusion and then at Stefan. "The Volturi won't stand for the Cullen's having a human Pet, let alone a feral one. They'll want you turned or killed."

"That's my business Thank you." My patience was starting to wear thin. I pushed past the two of them, walking back to the house. I let out a heavy sigh as the two began to walk beside me.

"So, you want to be treated like their mutt?" I scoffed, stopping as the house came close into view. "I doubt that's a normal human's dream."

"I'm sorry," I exclaimed in disbelief. "What do you know about me or my choices, Vladimir?" I seethed, fists clenching by my sides in anger as I span to face him. Stefan leaned against a tree trunk, obviously enjoying the show if his grin was anything to go off. All my past anxiety and nerves had morphed into pure, red-hot anger which made my heart rate spike. I could feel a load of eyes on me again as I confronted him.

"I'm merely suggesting that you would be so much better off on the fighting side, against those that would rather you be dead." I saw my family make their way out of the house out of the corner of my eye, as I glared at the vampire before me.

Y/N, is everything okay?" The head of my family called to me as he made his way over, catching my gaze for a second. "Y/N?"

"Vladimir thinks he knows what's best for me," I slipped back into English as I answered Carlisle. "He seems to think that I'm some kind of pet to you guys."

"Surely I'm not the only one that thinks this." The smirk on his face made my blood boil. His eyes surveyed the house as if expecting another of our guests to step forward and agree. I couldn't help but wonder if that's what they actually did think of me.

"Enough Vladimir," The calmness in Carlisle's voice was tainted with anger. "Y/N is a member of this family. I expect you to treat them with the same respect as the rest of the family." Carlisle had protectively stepped in front of me by this point.

I could feel my anger being dampened and extinguished by jasper's gift as the Romanian laughed in Carlisle's face. I glared at the southern vampire as a warning to lay off my emotions and he held up his hands in surrender. I launched myself in front of him as my anger overwhelmed me.

"Listen here you arrogant, self-righteous prick!" Carlisle's hands held my shoulders before I could get closer to our supposed guest. His hold was gentle but firm as I tried to shrug him off. "You don't get to come to our house, uninvited, and cause shit. Since you got here you've done nothing but try to cause trouble and it stops now or so help me god I'll put you on your ass Human mutt or not!" It felt good to fire at him, letting my anger lose as my hands shook with adrenaline.

"We're welcoming you into our home as witnesses and nothing more. We don't want a fight, don't want a war or to join your childish, petty revolution. What we want is to prove that a little girl, a harmless child, is not a danger to humans and should be allowed to live out her life as is her right. So if you want a fight then I suggest you tuck your tails, get the fuck out of town and find other lowlife assholes that want the same thing because you won't find any here. If you want to stay and help then shut the fuck up and act like it." I was out of breath by the time id finished shouldering and red in the face with rage. Vladimir was frozen with shock alongside Stefan and I could feel frustrated tears form so I turned my back to them and took a deep breath.

Carlisle held back a smile as I tucked myself under his arm. We walked up to the house in a side hug. My shouting had caught the attention of every vampire in the house and now all the eyes I had tried so hard to get away from were back on me. Esme was waiting at the top of the steps for me, arms wrapping around me to calm me as I melted in her touch.

Slowly the adrenaline drained from my system and anger dissolved into exhaustion instead. Esme let me go for a few seconds and I kissed her cheek gratefully. Edward and Bella mouthed their thank yous to me for sticking up for Renesmee.

"Oh and one more thing," I span back around, remembering something. "Call me their pet or mutt again and I'll let Emmett pull your limbs off and bury them where you'll never find them." Gesturing to the huge vampire, I flashed the two a fake sickly, sweet smile before going into my home.

#twilight #the twilight saga #twilight saga #carlisle cullen #esme cullen #alice cullen #jasper hale #jasper cullen #emmett cullen #rosalie cullen #rosalie hale #edward cullen #bella cullen #bella swan #renesmee cullen #vladimir twilight #Stefan twilight

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pisscrossiant · 7 months

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Things I would change in Dragon Age: Origins

- Make Morrigan a lesbian. I know a lesbian when I see it and when I see her she screams lesbian. Also making Alistair bi, he gives me Bi in denial vibes, they should've done that in the first place tbh.

-make it where you can have a poly relationship with the characters you can romance, let me have Leliana and Zevran at the same time PLEASE. But it wouldn't work with characters that hate each other like Morrigan and Alistair.

-Wynne can be a romance option. Let me have Granny Wynne be my love interest 💕

-make Oghren a love interest I feel like there needs to be more love interests rather then just the main four, I get locking Sten and shit but Oghren would be fine to have as a love interest.

-give Zevran and Leliana more conversations with the warden, after you ask them the main questions you can't talk to them really anymore besides asking Zevran to go to your tent.

-Have a fucking gift shop or at least a shop that has a decent amount of gifts in it, it's so annoying to try and find gifts for the companions I understand the plot gifts having to be found and all, but the random ones should be able to buy easier.

-when making your warden let us be able to pick our body type and customize it to our liking I hate where you only have certain body types for different races.

#dragon age origins #dragon age #dragon age: origins

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total-drama-takes-takes-2 · 1 year

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tta episode 10

“Last time, on Total Takes Action: our remaining contestants competed in a detective noir themed challenge to uncover a secret traitor within their very midst. Scary went bananas… again, and Scruffy got served a heaping dish of steaming hot reality. O was accused of the crime, but it was Max’s secret detective skills that pulled through and uncovered the real imposter… Fren! Or should I say Alistair, award-winning theater actor? Unfortunately for him, the Gilded Chris was not an award he won, and he was sent off the silver screen and back to the stage. Is anyone who they say they are? Find out now, on Total! Takes! Action!”

The craft services tent is dreary and quiet today, not a hint of conversation or comradery between the remaining contestants.

Scruffy is seated far away from Scary, jogging in place in the corner of the tent. Scary is ignoring them, flipping through their notes and making additions and addendums. Max is reading something, his brow furrowed in concentration, O is busy spooning the morning breakfast slop, and Peter is sitting awkwardly by himself on the vacant end of the table.

---

PETER: “Ever since Fren- sorry, I mean Al- left, it’s been dead quiet around here. Everyone left hates each other! Not only that, but since my last friend left the island… I’ve been completely alone.. I think this might be the first time I've spoken out loud in a week!”

---

O coughs. Scary wipes her nose on her lab coat sleeve. Peter looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel.

Finally, the intercom crackles, and he breathes a sigh of relief.

“Goooood morning, campers! If you’ll all join me in front of the craft services tent, we have a special treat for you today!”

Scruffy raises an eyebrow. “But- our next challenge is supposed to be-”

“Don't wet yourselves with terror just yet- this is not a challenge! Just for fun! And ratings!”

Scary rolls her eyes and snaps her notebook shut, walking outside with the rest of the cast. Only Scruffy lags behind, apparently disturbed by the sudden change in structure.

"Do you really believe it's going to be nothing?" Peter asks Scruffy, tailing alongside them.

"Um... I guess... I mean, Chris works by a schedule, but he can be pretty unpredictable," the neon lime wonders aloud. "Maybe he'll invite us to a cozy dinner and drug us, and we'll wake back up on the island..."

Scruffy sighs dreamily while Peter quivers in terror.

---

SCRUFFY: "I haven't been on top of my game this season, and it's really making me miss the island. At least then I could predict what was coming... now, it's like Russian roulette with a fully-loaded barrel!"

---

Chris is standing with an unfamiliar camera crew right outside of the tent, chatting about shot lists and lighting. As the campers shuffle outside, he turns with a big smile. He’s wearing an odd pair of square glasses and a beret today.

“Good morning, treasured and beloved children,” Chris speaks in a pleasant, soft tone. Behind him is a massive buffet loaded with every breakfast food imaginable- eggs, toast, bacon, pancakes and waffles of every variation, croissants, jams and butters and chocolate spreads, with pitchers of fresh squeezed orange juice lining the table-cloth covered surface. Chef is at one end of the buffet, setting down tiny plates and toothpicks, covered in bacon grease and sweat. “Did you all sleep well? Ready to enjoy your nutritious breakfast?”

The campers halt, looking between each other as if no one is quite sure if this is a mirage or not, like an oasis on the desert. Scruffy silently pumps their fist in the back.

Finally- “Did you hit your head or what?” Max asks bluntly.

The host chuckles back. “Of course not,” he turns to the crew behind him. “The children get three vitamin-packed, nutritious meals every day. We have our own personal chef on standby, so everything is made fresh.”

Chef waves from the end of the table, little flecks of bacon grease flying off his fingers.

“I’m pretty sure there was a cockroach in the oatmeal this morning,” O mumbles to Max. He nods.

Chris looks back to the campers. “Today we have a very special treat for you all. I’ve canceled the mindfulness and meditation, so you all better give your full attention to the very nice people from Reality, Weekly,”

Scruffy gasps. The campers look between each other, still in a shocked silence, now even more confused than before. Finally, Scary clears his throat. "Um, who?"

"WHO?!" Scruffy shouts from behind them, right into her ear. She claps her hands around her head and glares.

---

SCRUFFY: “Reality Weekly?! THE Reality Weekly?! North America and selective European countries’ number one reality TV gossip mag?! THEY RAN THE DUNCNEY VS. GWUNCAN STORY FOR YEARS! This is the most exciting day of my life, oh my God- I was right, staying in the game is WAY more important than 50 million dollars!”

---

“Can we get Nadie on set?” a stagehand yells. Two production assistants set up some chairs inside the trailers as the cast looks on.

"Make sure to be veeeery nice for the lovely television producers, and I'll see you all at your gourmet dinner tonight," Chris clasps his hands together and strains his words, trying to convey one thing to the remaining campers- behave. "Anyone who doesn't want to participate will see Chef in the, um... meditation tent."

The campers turn to see Chef sharpening a fish hook by the buffet. Chris wishes them good luck and walks off with a few sharply-dressed producers.

"This is such [CENSORED]," Scary sighs.

"I knew it was a challenge..." Peter grumbles, taking a seat on the grass by the buffet table and dejectedly peeling an orange.

"Does this mean we're not getting drugged?" Scruffy pouts. "No matter- I've been preparing for my Reality, Weekly interview since I was six years old!"

They take a seat next to Peter, crossing their legs and smiling. "I used to practice in front of the mirror before school- of course, in those interviews, I was giving my winner's speech... but this is alright, too,"

Peter splits the orange in half and gives one handful of slices to Scruffy. "Did you always want to be on TV?"

"Oh, yes. I've known for years that Total Drama is my home!"

Scary coughs in the back. "Loser!"

Max elbows her and she lunges at him. Their growls and his screeches fade out as she chases him across the lot. Scruffy turns back to Peter. "What did you want to do?"

"Oh, a lot of things," Peter nods. "Doctor, psychologist, research scientist, teacher... people say I have a real knack for helping."

Scruffy makes a face. "Has helping people ever gotten you anywhere?"

Now it's O's turn to elbow him. He frowns disapprovingly and turns to Peter. "Well, I think that's wonderful, Peter. Maybe we can be therapists together!"

"Maybe!"

Scruffy rolls their eyes and shakes their head sadly. "Just not cut out for this game..."

The sound of a door opening catches the attention of the remaining players and they turn towards their sides. A young person dressed in a purple tank top and black pants comes out from the impromptu production tent set up outside the craft services tent, adjusting a lav mic and grinning widely.

“Okay, who’s first?” they ask, flipping their braids over their shoulders.

The campers look between each other. One tiny voice pipes up from the back of the crowd. “Ooh, me! Me!”

The interviewer ignores Scruffy and sighs, tapping their chin. “How about… Max. We have a lot of questions for him,”

Max screams from far away as Scary catches him.

"Can someone get him for me?"

---

The camera adjusts and focuses on Max sitting in front of a wall, the space cleared out for the interview. Nadie remains behind the camera, clearing their throat. “Good morning. I’m Canada, but you can also call me Nadie, if you want,”

“Your name is Canada?”

“Nadie for short. Shall we begin?”

---

NADIE: “Okay, so when I got this internship at Reality Weekly six months ago, I was so totally not expecting to get sent out to Toronto to interview the Total Takes cast- this is like a dream come true! My supervisor Sierra picked me specifically, because I’ve already seen all of Total Takes Island- five times!”

---

Nadie tries to contain the smile in their tone as they begin. “So, Max- what’s it like being back on the show?”

“Terrible,”

“Last episode, you said that you only came back to see your girlfriend, Michela- now that she’s gone, do you still want the money?”

He shrugs. “It couldn’t hurt. Might as well try while I’m still stuck in this hell hole,”

---

Outside the trailer, Scary, Scruffy, O, and Peter wait on the grass. A shaky, handheld camera records them, and Scary glares at it.

“What, like we aren’t being recorded all the time on this damn set?”

The cameraman doesn’t respond. She groans and stands, walking back to the craft services tent. The camera turns and follows her, stopping every time she turns around.

“Would you BUZZ OFF!” she finally yells, storming into the tent and zipping the flap behind her.

Scruffy runs in front of the camera. “You can film me! Look at me! I loved your guys’ exposee piece on Sugar!”

The camera turns away.

---

Max walks out of the trailer in a few minutes, and O is called in.

The former walks past Peter and Scruffy waiting outside and locks himself in the communal bathroom. Scruffy groans in agony.

"This is torture! No one here even cares... do you know how special being on Total Drama is? It's hard, yes, but... we're making history! We have fan clubs, people speculating about us and our relationships, magazines running stories on us... what part of that doesn't sound amazing?!"

"Um... all of it," O grumbles, sitting criss-cross in the grass while snacking on a baby muffin. "Is that really why you came here? To get famous?"

"Not really. I just wanted to... you know, experience it for myself," Scruffy sighs. "Why'd you come?"

"My therapist recommended it, thank you very much," he responds curtly. "And I think this place is a petri dish of potential clients in the future. After this season is done, we can start doing group therapy!"

"Geez, and you think I'm weird for obsessing over the show," Scruffy rolls their eyes. "But at least we can agree on one thing-"

O nods. "People here are crazy,"

---

“I guess meeting everyone has been fun,” O says, tapping his chin. “Peter is pretty chill, Scruffy is… um… I’ll pass on that. Max has his moments, but I see a lot of love in him, deep down,” O puts a hand over his heart. “Just the way he looks at Michela tells me that behind all that nerdy superiority, he’s got a good heart. Scary is a black tar pit of nothingness and she might’ve been forged in the depths of the sun.”

---

The camera films through the mesh craft services tent window as Scary sticks another fork in the wooden table at the center of the tent and digs it deep into the pliable surface. She takes out a rubber band and pulls it apart, creating a long, rubber string. They tie one end to one fork, and likewise to the other, then pulls it back with a small pebble.

She grins as she releases the elastic and it flies across the tent, straight into the camera lens.

---

SCARY: "What? I've been making some good progress here, and after last episode, I'm not taking any chances letting the wrong people see what I'm cooking up," they hold up their notebook and grin. "They'll see. They'll all see!" she laughs maniacally and then coughs. "But, as much as I hate to admit it, losing my assistant has taken me a step back. A scientist is only as good as their word, and in most cases, their word needs to be excessively reviewed and re-reviewed."

---

Scruffy runs a lap around the filming trailer, then another. Peter gets called inside and O walks out, stretching and retreating to the other trailer.

---

“Scruffy is… well… they’re an enigma, let’s say that,” O scratches his chin. “They may be too far gone for even me to help.”

---

“I almost feel bad for them,” Peter says, hands in his lap. “They’re straining themself so hard, and I can tell when someone is about to snap…”

---

“Another formidable opponent lost to the insanity of Total Takes,” Max shakes his head. “A damn shame.”

---

"Wasted potential," Scary flicks a dustball off their lab coat.

---

Peter sits in the designated chair against the chosen backdrop, fidgeting nervously.

“You doing alright, Peter?” Nadie asks, adjusting his lavalier mic and then stepping back. He nods sheepishly. “If you insist. First question… what’s it like making it this far in the game after being dropped so early from the competition in the first season?”

“Scary,” he says immediately. “Even scarier now that Fren is gone.”

“Were you two good friends?”

“He was nice to me,” Peter mumbles. “No one is nice to me… I mean, just off the bat.”

“How do you feel about Max’s influence over his elimination?”

“What do you mean?”

Nadie scratches her chin awkwardly. “Well… if he’d never been exposed, he’d still be here,”

Peter looks at his feet. “I guess I’ve… never thought about it that much…”

---

O rifles through a bag of chips from the kitchen, watching Scruffy pace back and forth and murmur to themselves like a madman. Scary joins O, hands on their hips as they watch the display.

“Pathetic,” she sighs. “Oh, well. I suppose they were always a ticking time bomb. Say, O… you have any experience in chemistry?”

“Only in the chemicals of the mind!”

“Nerd!” Scary shouts, walking away. “Have to do everything my damn self around here…”

Max steps out of the bathroom, looking back and forth. The camera zooms in on him as he walks out, exhaling.

“Boo!”

He screams and leaps as Scary shouts in his ear. She chuckles and watches him blush and regain his composure. “Was that necessary?”

“No. That’s why it’s fun,” she smiles. “Hey, you’re a smart guy, right?”

“Maybe. Who’s asking?”

“I need a second opinion,” Scary pulls out her notebook. “Some peer review, if you will. Scruffy has obviously fallen off the deep-end, and I have some ideas to bounce.”

“What, your parole officer busy this week?”

“You and I both know I’m above the law. What do you say? I’ll give you a fraction of the profits if I’m right… 10%?”

“25%”

“20%, and that’s my final offer,”

“Deal. Twenty it is,”

Scruffy trips on a pebble and wails on the ground, rocking back and forth in front of them.

---

“Peter is…” O starts, looking up.

---

“A pushover,” Max scoffs.

---

“A good guy, but not Total Takes material,” Scruffy nods. "Poor guy is going to get eaten alive..."

---

“Look, there’s nothing wrong with him, he’s just so milquetoast,” Max rolls his eyes. “Still, I wouldn’t mind making it to the finale with him. For obvious reasons.”

---

Peter sits in the craft services tent, biting his nails and glancing over to Max every few minutes. He’s busy rifling through a few of Scary’s notes, looking up every few seconds to make sure no one can see what he’s doing. The camera zooms in on the papers nonetheless.

Peter turns to O. “Can I get some advice?”

“What?” O yawns, leaning on his elbow. “Oh, yeah, sure! What’s the deal- GAD? SAD?”

“Um… I just want your opinion on something. You know, like a friend,”

O raises an eyebrow.

---

O: “I guess it’s just kind of… weird… having people want to talk to me like a friend… I’ve never had a friendship that existed outside of impromptu therapeutic discussions and mutual validation, you know?”

---

“If there was someone who… ruined a friendship for you… would it be right to be angry at them?” Peter asks, looking at his lap nervously.

“Anger is a secondary emotion, if we can get to the root…” O slows down, then sighs. “Yes. Yes it would be right. In fact, I’d be even angrier! If I got to actually keep a friend, and then someone else ruined our friendship, I’d be furious!”

“Really,” Scary scoffs from across the table, peering over her notebook. “Mr. Cool Therapy, that’s not good client advice.”

“I’m not a therapist,” O crosses his arms, matter-of-factly. “I’m not licensed, after all. It’s illegal to impersonate a doctor. We’re talking… as friends!”

“Whatever,” she sighs, returning to her notes.

---

“O is… whatever, I guess,” Scary crosses her arms. “Not worth my time.”

---

“He’s fine. Michela liked him enough,” Max sighs. "She does have astronomically bad taste, though... wait, what does that say about me?"

---

Nadie steps into the craft services tent and calls in Scary.

"No way in hell," Scary grumbles, leafing through the notebook with Max at her side. "You're lucky I haven't smashed in all your stupid equipment yet."

"Um, yeah, Chris warned us about that, so... he took the liberty of setting up a minefield around the production tent," Nadie smiles nervously. "I wouldn't get too close if I were you."

---

"What do I think I've accomplished on the show?" Scary scoffs at the question.

---

Max sighs. "Nothing,"

---

"Not enough!" O says.

---

"I guess I've... survived, and that's good enough, right?" Peter smiles bashfully.

---

"Here's an accomplishment for you: today's minefield will be the last," Scary grins. "Chris is going down."

---

It's dark out now, the sun setting behind the cityscape. Scary steps out of the trailer and Nadie sticks his head out as she leaves. “Scruffy?”

“FINALLY!” Scruffy jumps up from the grass where they’ve been waiting for the past few hours, and dashes inside the trailer. “I am so ready for this!”

“Love the enthusiasm,” Nadie smiles. “We don’t actually have a lot of questions for you, but this one’s on everyone’s minds…”

“Anything!” they speak enthusiastically, folding their hands in their lap and sitting up straight.

“What are your thoughts on Patrick and Julia being an item?”

Scruffy’s smile drops. “What?”

“Damn, right, I forgot that you don’t have internet access here. Patrick and Julia are an item now! Considering your close friendship with Julia, a lot of the fans are wondering…”

They force another smile. “That’s great! That’s so cool and awesome, I’m SO happy for them! Haha! Even though Patrick’s style of antagonism directly conflicts Julia’s and they’re way too different and he knows nothing about her. I’m fine! You know what? I didn't even want to do this interview anyway- I have to go!” Scruffy stands, running outside the trailer.

---

Scruffy sits in the confessional, wailing.

---

Scary and Max watch them running into the makeup and hair confessional, covering their face. “What got up their ass this time?” Max asks.

---

Peter and O watch the two from inside the mess hall. "What do you think they're doing?"

"Nothing good," O responds, shaking his head. "Anything those two can agree on has to be trouble."

"I don't know, maybe we're being too harsh..." Peter starts, twirling his thumbs around each other. "I don't want to be mean..."

O sighs and takes a seat at the table. "Listen, man. Speaking... as a friend, I think you can be pretty soft when it comes to people messing with your feelings. And I know that... I haven't been doing a good job at regulating that for everyone. I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes I feel like therapy just pushes positivity onto people instead of validating their feelings!"

"I don't think that's crazy at all," Peter says. "Didn't your therapist get you to come on reality TV to face a fear?"

"Yeah... maybe... that wasn't the right move," O sighs. "I know it's unprofessional, but I see you guys as friends, not clients, and I would never subject my friends to that same crap."

"I don't think that's unprofessional, I think that's empathy. It's sweet," Peter smiles. "If only everyone else felt that way..."

"Hey, man, if you need me, I'm here for you. What's been happening to you isn't fair, and if you wanna get mad-"

“It’s just so unfair!” he suddenly shouts, slamming his fists on the table. “Why do these things keep happening to me?!”

“That's it- stand for yourself! Don’t let your fear take over!”

“You’re right! I’ve been letting myself get walked on for too long!” Peter stands. “I’m going to confront Max and Scary and tell them exactly what’s on my mind!”

He storms out of the craft services tent and to the impromptu camera tent, where the Reality, Weekly crew is having their dinner break. Max and Scary are hovering around the group, using their lights to read through the notes.

“I’m no scientist, but this all seems right to me,” Max says. “If your readings are correct, and your evidence can be held up in court, you definitely have a case.”

“I knew it!” Scary grins. “Chris McLean is SO going down!”

“MAX AND SCARY!” Peter shouts, pointing an accusing finger at them. The two look up from their notes and squint at him.

“Great. What now?” Max mutters, crossing his arms. Scary hands him the notes and walks up to Peter, hands on her hips.

“What’s the deal, pipsqueak?”

“The deal is that… that…” Peter quivers, a little unsure of himself, before he takes a deep breath and stands his ground. “You’re MEAN!”

“You’re RUDE. You’re EVIL!” he takes a step forward. “And you’re not even that much smarter than anyone else! We can ALL TELL!”

Scary scoffs. “God, this is pathetic. You really think that-”

She takes a step closer and triggers a sudden hidden trip wire. The sound of twanging makes both her and Peter stop dead in their tracks and turn to the sound of fizzling under their feet. They both jump to the ground, covering their heads as a landmine goes off behind them- sending Max flying across camp and instantly disintegrating all of Scary’s notes. She watches the papers turn into ashes in horror.

Chris chuckles, watching the display from afar. “Man, I love fireworks,”

---

A medical helicopter takes off, Max tucked inside. Scary is seething, fists clenched.

“Well… that was fun,” Nadie says, waving goodbye to the chopper.

Chris smiles. “Yes. Yes it was,”

"MONTHS of evidence- gone!" Scary turns to Peter. "You're dead. You're dead meat, and I'm gonna eat you!"

"Weird," O breathes, then turns his head to either side of him. "Hey- where'd Scruffy go?"

---

Scruffy remains in the confessional, wailing.

---

#total takes action #tta

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cilant-lis · 2 months

Text

rhian's time in dao pt.2

i can't stop myself from imagining just how gorgeous denerim would look if origins ever got remastered....

wahoo, romance with leli unlocked! i love her so much. kissing her in camp, kissing her in denerim, kissing her on a random battlefield, kissing her in front of the corpse of brother genitivi's assistant

perfect timing for the ghoul tamlen encounter :') on the way to the temple of sacred ashes and right after locking in leliana's romance, just as rhian got a tiny sliver of happiness, wham, gutpunch! (oh how i wish there was more companion reactivity, maybe even a cutscene of tamlen's funeral? i have to do everything myself smh)

respeccing rhian as dex dual wielding warrior because of story reasons (definitely not because i hate playing warriors)

i forgot how creepyy haven is. and how the inquisition decided to settle on top of the said freaky place.

more delicious angst for rhian with the guardian's test, but also some closure at last with the spirit-tamlen somewhat alleviating their survivor's guilt

at the urn of sacred ashes: leliana having a deep religious experience while morrigan, zevran and rhian are like 'wow, a vase....'

ugh eamon. hate that guy

off we go to orzammar and deep roads! first time going there with rhian. they're going to hate all the politics stuff sooo much

choosing the 'give me my troops' option every single conversation. i think rhian would support bhelen not because they care about his politics, but because they found bhelen less annoying than harrowmont

i think the most world-changing decision in the entire game is giving leliana a nug. in this essay i will-

bless the faster moving speed mod, breezed through the deep roads while still getting the lovely, creeping dread atmosphere <3

speaking of creepy, somehow i remember the boobmother broodmother fight being much harder. it took less than five minutes now, even though i'm playing on hard. honestly the stupid road to the anvil of the void took more time

cairdin :( i regret not bringing shale to the quest i gotta look up its dialogue during the quest

wahoo, congrats on the coronation bhelen. NOW GIVE ME MY TROOPS

back to denerim we go, and wouldn't you know it, another crash...

two elves and a mage walk into arl of denerim's estate, somehow no one bats an eye, until the arl is killed and all his prisoners are freed (except for vaughan, rest in piss)

captured! my favourite quest! this time i had rhian break out on their own and it was sooo funny. didn't expect being able to seduce the guard with my 'male' warden, but we honestly the unnamed guard is a bicon

doing the alienage quest and i'm wondering, how long ago did the riots take place? and was it during this uprising that the orphanage was wiped out? idk if i'm conflating the two but it really doesn't add up? the corpses are all bones inside, and the beggar outside of the orphanage is an adult? i guess i need to replay the tabris origin for a refresher

love how blase eamon is about what happened in the alienage. shame we can't kill the guy

i'm a queen anora truther, and nothing will ever change that. i'm tempted to play a cousland just so i can marry her <3

landsmeet cutscene is so great for screenshots, i can't concentrate on what is actually being said lmao. i briefly thought of conscripting loghain, but taking roleplaying into account, i don't think rhian would forgive him for what he did in the alienage. (and by now they no longer see being a warden as a punishment)

rhian entering their absent parent era... such an icon (WHY can't we discuss this with our love interest??? blease let me tell leliana and alistair at least) and in the wonderful version of dragon age that exists in my head, morrigan and rhian perform a blood magic ritual instead of boning

the final goodbyes with the companions ;_;

gods, i hate the final battle drag. just teleport me to the archdemon

rhian is my special little guy and they got the final blow animation on the archdemon AND the cutscene (even though in my worldstate they're not even the one to kill it but oh well)

wish the boon the warden chooses had some sort of an impact in the later games... the dalish getting a chunk of land in ferelden is kind of significant, isn't it

after the game, rhian visits their clan (the half of it which remained in ferelden) with leliana, and finally has a brief moment of respite, even if it's only a week. after that, they travel to weisshaupt to get officially recognised as the warden-commander (and in my canon worldstate report on alvea's 'death') and eventually return to ferelden

#awakening time tomorrow! i gotta mess around with rhian's appearance for it :)#july plays dao #hmmmm not importing this save into da2 i think... will have to craft one

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midorisudachi · 2 years

Text

Several months ago I was feeling nostalgic & played Dragon Age Origins and Dragon Age II again, about a decade after I had first played them. A few weeks I posted my fan art of my OC & Alistair. Now it's time for my Hawke OC & her love interest!

When I had first played DAII, I made Anders my love interest. This time around, I decided to change things up & make my character go for the broody Fenris. It took a lot to get him to slightly warm up to my character (whom I named "Chevaune Hawke), but then there was that sexy scene where Fenris couldn't help himself and he kissed Hawke, and then she returned the kiss by pushing him against the wall. (I never knew she had it in her! Lol!) But after they got intimate, darned Fenris was already getting dressed, so Hawke asked, "Was it that bad?" To which Fenris replied, "I'm sorry. It's not...it was fine. No...that is insufficient. It was better than anything I could have dreamed." I got why he was afraid to get close to somebody, so Chevaune & Fenris remained "just friends" (no intimacy" for a few years, but I made my character loyal to him.

Eventually, this conversation happened:

Fenris – “We have never discussed what happened between us three years ago.”

Hawke – “You didn’t want to talk about it.”

Fenris – “I felt like a fool. I thought it better if you hated me. I deserve no less. But it isn’t better. That night… I remember your touch as if it were yesterday. I should have asked your forgiveness long ago. I hope you can forgive me know.”

Hawke – “I need to understand why you left, Fenris.”

Fenris – “I’ve thought about the answer a thousand times. The pain, the memories it brought up, it was too much. I was a coward. If I could go back, I’d stay. Tell you how I felt.”

Hawke – “What would you have said?”

Fenris – “Nothing could be worse than the thought of living without you. ”

Hawke – “I understand. I always understood.”

Fenris – “If there is a future to be had, I will walk gladly into it at your side.”

Then they kissed. Awwwww. Ha ha. They had such a complicated relationship but I'm glad my Chevaune Hawke got his heart & affections. Especially at the end, before the final battle...Fenris said, "“I…may not get the chance to say this again. Meeting you was the most important thing that ever happened to me, Hawke. Promise me you won’t die. I can’t bear the thought of living without you.” Notice how I drew him wearing the Hawke logo at his hip? He eventually wears that in the game after a while.

At one point during the game (before all the final battle/ending stuff), Anders questioned Chevaune, stating that he did get what she saw in Fenris & hinted that she be better with him instead! In fact, all my companions questioned my relationship with Fenris! LOL! Varric once stated, "I haven't told anybody about you and that angsty Trevinter elf." Ha ha! Even Chevaune's grumpy arse uncle (Gamlen) said (in a snarky tone), "So you're into elves now? It takes all kinds of people." Oh, shut up. Ha ha. There was a lot more bantering & conversations, but I'm not going to type them here, because it would take up a lot of space! As it is, I already wrote too much! *Grins*

Drawn with Sakura Pigma Micron pens, then coloured in with a mix of Copic Markers & Ohuhu Markers.

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jemandthesingalongs · 2 months

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#4 for the DAV ask game

4. What does your worldstate look like going into DAV?

ooo a fun one thank you! <3

Origins: My girl Alivah Tabris! She's a duel-wielding warrior with the reaver/berserker/spirit warrior specializations and romances Leliana. <3

Outside the standard fair of worldstates, she doesn't deviate too much from it (it saving mages, befriending everyone, etc.) OTHER than killing Connor herself (she's...got her reasons and is haunted by it forever), POSSIBLY keeping the Anvil (will need to actually playthru again to get a better grasp on that), and POSSIBLY drunk Alistair if only because in-character can't see her hardening him, but I am really attached to bitter ex-besties not over their fight from 10+ years ago with King Alistair since sparing Loghain as a Tabris is also non-standard it seems? She also doesn't defile the Ashes I'm just a weenie but love dragon stuff so insert fanon reason here she's a reaver I'll come up with eventually. Also in my reality god isn't cruel she herself does the Dark Ritual with Morrigan and is Kieran's other mom (trans rights babey) and everyone involved feels some kind of way about it.

DA2: My poor wet cat of a champion, Astrid Hawke. She's a one-handed warrior with the Templar specialization and romances Isabela.

She's...not doing great dslfkdsf. I'd say typical worldstate up until the mid/later part of Act 2 where after Isabela betrays her twice, losing Leandra to a mage, and having Bethany in the Circle as a bargaining chip, she goes pretty much pro-Templar in an attempt to have some sort of control over everything going wrong. I'm unsure if I can pull it off in-game but she does rival Anders and does the Templar ending to keep him around, and does everything Meredith asks up until killing Bethany and she refuses. Though that doesn't really break the illusion until she's betrayed again by Meredith herself and it's somehow still going downhill for her. Love her though.

DAI: My lil Hope spirit Hissera Adaar! She's a mage with the necromancer specialization that romances Josephine.

Even though I've only played DAI once, I vaguely recall the big choices so she's another standard fair worldstate. BUT I do want to play with the moral ambiguity of a spirit, so she will certainly keep Cole a spirit, and might even make some mages Tranquil. Astrid Hawke is left in The Fade, possibly, it really depends if there's any payoff in DA4 for it since between her and Loghain, they both got a lot to atone for. I hate that choice so much regardless lmao. Her moral compass/choices do eventually boil down to "whatever Josephine wants" so it's a good thing Josephine has some solid morals lskdfdsf. This is why she opts to stop Solas by any means since tearing down The Veil will kill/hurt Josephine and that is simply not allowed. I haven't decided if she'll keep or disband the Inq, because while that would help in stopping Solas and supporting Vivienne as Divine, she is also operating on Leliana's desire to be with Alivah from their very first conversation in Haven, and she takes things very literally. So no more Inq means Leliana can leave. This is also why she simply doesn't support her as Divine, despite the everything.

#being totally honest its been 10 or so years since my actual last playthru #bc i played my canon timeline for dai then played dai once and it killed it for me for this decade lkdsfsdf #so i don't remember choices outside keep #but this is the In-Character general vibes #thank u for asking!!!#ask #gabs-magical-abs #dragon age #alivah tabris #astrid hawke #hissera adaar #ask game

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sniiboo · 5 months

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Chapter 5: The Gods made you, to ruin me.

Arendith sat around the fire with her companions. They were all eating and drinking celebrating another victory against a small village of goblins. They had gotten over the kerfuffle of the last few days and things had settled back to “normality” within the camp. The mood quickly turned to teasing as alcohol flowed through their veins. Gale thumped Astarion across the back with a knowing look as his gaze fell onto the common thread that pulled them together. “She sure is something isn’t she Astarion? Looks like you’ve gotten lucky enough to find someone to share your life with.”

“I wouldn’t say that Darling. We’re just having a good time together. Carnal pleasure and all that.” the elf responded nonchalantly.

“Well at least some of us are having a good time. I only hope to be able to make someone scream the way Fangs has Arendith crying his name. Gods, the orgasms must be mind-blowing… With that on the table, I’d be jumping to stay at camp every day.” Karlach laughed.

Gale chimed in “When I was romancing Mystra, our lovemaking was second to none. There were nights I lost the ability to walk.”

Arendith made a show of looking at her glass and licking her lips “Oh yes yes, he makes sure I come at least twice before he allows himself to finish. Something about the taste of my blood ya da ya da…” she swirled the liquid in her cup before taking a sip nonplussed. “Anyways I’m off for some rest lovelies.” She bowed dramatically taking her exit.

Astarion stood up to head to his tent and before he knew what he was doing he asked “Is that a no for our nightly dinner date then Darling?”

Arendith rolled her eyes and changed her course towards his tent as she felt his familiar tug on her brain. You are positively delightful you little lying Minx. She pushed open his tent flap, settling into position for him to feed. “What? I wasn’t lying. You make sure I feel so good, Sweetness.” she replied to his question avoidantly. Astarion shuffled behind her nosing lazily into her neck, nudging and lapping to find the perfect spot. “And yet I’ve had you and know you speak lies. Do you forget you dance with a professional?” He test nips at her neck before deciding against the spot. Your performance is almost as practiced and sterile as mine is. He thinks to himself.

“You may have enjoyed yourself but there was a distinct lack of Orgasm. I know what it feels like to have a body grasp around me… around my cock…” Astarion grabs her chin and tilts her neck roughly propping it to the side before he drags his other hand to free her neck of the hair draping her shoulder. “I overheard you telling Wyll about your husband. Did he not care to please his woman? Or perhaps it was more that he didn't know how…” he bit down into her neck with a bruising pressure. He had found that she wouldn't stop him if he wanted to be rougher with his feedings. He would often find himself slinking to his tent to relieve the painful strain his cock would feel after handling her so harshly. He groaned and loosened his grip on her chin allowing his hand to caress and tickle against the leather collar pushed up so he could feed.

“Do not tread in waters you can't swim in Astarion. I’d hate for you to drown.” The female elf bared her fangs threateningly. She shifted her hands up to drag against his ears allowing her claws to scrape against the flesh teasingly and smiled when she felt them twitch. “The same could be said of you. I know when someone is into me. Your moves are far too calculated.”

When his fangs left her skin she flipped herself to face him, legs twined behind his back. She made a point of giving her hips a few rolls against him as she brought her lips to his opposite ear to whisper “Just because you fill me with your cum doesn’t mean you experienced one either…” Arendith brought her hand to “lovingly” sweep against his face. “I suppose you missed the part of the conversation with Wyll where I told him that Alistair wasn’t my husband. I existed for his pleasure… and the pleasure of any he deemed worthy.” she gently flicked and then pinched his nipple “He liked to have a trophy to goad others… so when he found out his little lab rat of a ‘Sommelier’ made others drool… Well... Then I was put out like a buffet for the starving. Only he took pleasure in hoarding it all to himself. All titles and no commitment in case he got bored.”

She reached down to lap at his other nipple while working the other with her fingers. She drew her fangs over it roughly before bringing pleasure to her game of pain by popping it into her mouth and sucking. “If Alistair deemed it appropriate to feast in front of his hall of guests, then I complied.” She pulled off his top before making a sensual show of removing hers, moving to trail her lips down his stomach, making sure to use her teeth every once in a while to keep off rhythm. She unlaced him and edged his pants down to run her tongue and nose along the V of his legs. “So no. He didn’t make me come and scream his name… But I made sure that he screamed mine.”

Arendith pushed Astarion to the ground forcing his pants down to his ankles. She trailed a claw ever so gingerly up his perineum before popping his balls into her mouth to suck one at a time. She pushed her thumbs into his hips making a show of kitten licking and kissing her way up the underside of his hardening cock locking her crimson eyes onto his as he looked at her with bated breath. “Arendith…” he croaked his voice, sounding more strained than he wanted. His eyes fluttered shut as she took him into her mouth and whined as she slid him into the back of her throat. “Dear gods… you filthy tease. The Gods’ have made you to ruin me.” His head fell back with a growl in his chest. She popped her mouth off him in an exaggerated manner and smirked before she said “Oh it’d be a shame if I were to just…” She crawled up his body, stalking, allowing his cock to settle between her breasts before squeezing her arms together forcing them to envelop him. “Hmmm, get up and leave…?” she pushed a knuckle to nudge and rub against the ring of his arse. “Or maybe…” She pulled away to sit on her knees, legs spread but still clothed, she dragged her hands and claws down her breasts and her body to dip into her loose pants. Arendith let her mouth drop open seductively as she ran a finger through her folds, she stroked her clit a few times gauging her fingers sufficiently wet for her game. She removed them to bring them up to his mouth, pulling them away saucily as he reached to suck on them. “Or maybe I should make use of these talents…” she smirked before slowly inserting the finger into his ass making sure to brush up against his prostate.

The look on her face was so close to the one he imagined he had used to destroy his marks, a fang peeking out of her lip, her eyes glazed in lust. He couldn’t stop himself from sighing as she stroked into him, breasts swaying sensually as she moved to bring her mouth back onto him. “Hells below…” he moaned and threaded his fingers into her hair to stop her from removing herself from his now painfully aroused member. Astarion started trailing his hand to massage the tips of her ears causing his lover to moan around him. As the vibrations moved up her throat and zapped their way over his dick he bit his lower lip and thrust into her eagerly before he panicked and removed himself from her mouth and sat up on his elbows “I.. I’m sorry I lost all sense of control…” his skin crawled with pleasure and his fingers twitched against her scalp.

Arendith removed her finger from him seating herself back on her knees. “I… I can stop if you want…” she looked down hesitantly before recovering “I did tell Lae’zel I’d think about taking her up on her offer to meet at the old ruins nearby.” At that remark, a streak of possessiveness ran through him and he gripped her face and brought it to his lips, letting a moan escape into her mouth as he tasted himself on her.

“Dear gods don’t you dare. You may as well stake me it’d kill me all the same.” he groaned moving to lap up the dried blood that had run down from his puncture wounds onto her breasts. “Would you dare deprive me of that luscious mouth, Temptress?” she grinned at his words and moved to continue. Before Death could reach his frustratingly hard cock and wrap her warmth around him he pushed his hand to thumb at her chin gently, tilting it up to look at him. “You don’t have to do this, Little Death.” he swallowed hard in an attempt to calm himself, wondering why he opened his damned mouth.

She paused bringing her fingers to his lips to stop him from responding. “Oh, but I do find myself wanting to, lover.” she worked her way back down to lick at the precum dribbling from him. “But stop me if you must. I can find other things to amuse my oral fixations.” Astarion’s leg muscles twitched eagerly as he watched her take him into her mouth once again, twisting her tongue around his head, using suction to pull his foreskin down. She sped up bobbing her head using aural cues to gauge his reactions. As his breathing increased she slowed her pace to a teasingly languid pace causing him to whine. Death removed her mouth causing Astarion to whimper in frustration so she changed tactics. She started using one hand to pump him and the other to massage his heavy balls. “Should I use my fingers on you again Saucy little Rogue? Hit that perfect spot inside you until you paint me with your cum?” she tugged just hard enough on his cock to mix some pain in with his pleasure. “Tell me what you want Astarion. Your wish is my command.” she nipped his hip bone eyes blowing out when she saw a few beads of blood bloom on his skin.

Panic rose in both of them, but his breath stopped when she collected it and brought it to her mouth. She closed her eyes moaning deeply at the rich taste. He stuttered as he watched her, setting his brain, heart, and cock all at war with each other. He whined loudly, frustration from her edging showing on his face. “Gods Death I don’t care… just… Just stop teasing me.” he borderline yelled, pent-up energy lacing his every word. He didn’t know enough about what he’d enjoy to choose, even if his brain wasn’t in his prick at the moment.

Arendith took a few steadying breaths before lowering her head onto his member once again, moving her hands to grasp at his hips desperate for the feeling of his skin on hers. Her ears flickered at the sounds dropping out of Astarion’s mouth causing her to moan wantonly. Waves of blood and sexual lust rippled through her body as she set to devour the man laid out for her. Astarion carded his fingers through her dark platinum locks, breath stuttering as he bucked into her without abandon.

“F-fuuuuck Death…” he cried as she took two fingers and thrust them into his ass, doing her best to match the pace of his thrusts. Astarion’s mouth dropped into an open-mouthed pant as she chased his pleasure by stroking her fingers into him in a circular massage. “Ohh Gods, right there… Don’t stop, please. Ahh- heh.” he opened his dark ruby eyes doing his best to focus his field of view on the feast for his viewing pleasure. Arendith was perched between him, eyes closed and tearing, hair disheveled, lips swollen from his abuse. He could just make out her breasts swaying like the most erotic pendulum he’d ever seen. The urge to paint over her barely visible freckles with his colours took over, sending another quake through his body, barrelling him towards ecstasy faster than he could ever have guessed possible. “I-I’m so…” A high-pitched breathy sound escaped his mouth, he was being entirely too vocal and needy but he couldn’t find it in himself to give a shit.

Astarion’s ruts became deep and shallow in an attempt to slot himself into her throat. He let his head drop back as his body started to twitch and fireworks began bursting behind his eyes as he felt her tongue caress his cock to gather leaking fluid. His ears dropped down, fangs gripped his lower lip, and with a final brush against his spot, he lurched forward, mouth open in a silent scream. With her throat bobbing in a swallow, her hands massaging his balls he splattered thick ropes of cum into her mouth. He thrust himself through another sickeningly sweet riptide of fire roaring through his body, coming too far back on the outward beat. His eyes opened wide as so many emotions rolled over him, fear, lust, possession, as he watched the last few kicks from his cock decorate her face and chest with his seed.

He immediately went to stroke himself through the vestiges of his orgasm when he found Arendith’s hand snaking its way up to milk him through the mind shatter. Her head nuzzled into his side to lap at anything left he had to give her, giving him quite the show. Dizzy from the last sparks of electricity flitting through his body he kept his eyes closed to steady himself, still panting, his body oversensitive. As if she could read his thoughts or body, she removed herself and brought her head to rest on his stomach for a few moments. She was silent, eyes closed, hand beside her head, gently against his side.

Astarion thought she had fallen asleep, but she pulled herself up to boop him on the nose. “Mmm, now that’s what I thought, my little cinnamon roll. A much more convincing performance.” she stood up and put her shirt on, turning to exit his tent.

“And where do you think you’re going? Perhaps I’m not through with you yet.” he lilted, eyes heavy with implied lust, pitch dropped to velvet.

Arendith gave an airy laugh, as she stepped out into the night before popping her head back into view. “It’s, hmmm, how did you put it?” She gripped her chin in thought before theatrically mocking him “Ah! Thats right. ‘If you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more filling.” She lets out a breathy giggle as she turns away, and he realizes: She flipped his game back on him.

“Well shit.” he mutters to himself.

#astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #astarion x oc #astarion x tav #astarion smut

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