#keeperscompanionsdai

[allmywardensaresafeandsound]

Just realized I had art of each of my datv worldstate protags so i got templating !!

Mephis Tabris, art by @keeperscompanionsdai (deactivated) Claire Hawke, art by @home-halone Moghrana Lavellan, art by @squidmayo and template by @/marianchurchland here

[hurl-a-can]

How about 1, 2, 5 & 8 for Lennan? :)

What was Tabris’ relationship with their family like? (Cyrion, Adaia, Shianni, Sorris…)He had a great relationship with his parents, his brother, and his cousins. Not perfect, mind you - but who does have perfect relationships with their family?

He was an obedient (well, for the most part) son - and a protective big brother.Adaia used to teach him he should have aspirations and dreams - while Cyrion was there to remind him of his responsibilities. And they were loving, supportive parents to both him and Darrian.

But I guess there was that tiny bit of resentment towards his parents, especially Cyrion, for saddling him with all kinds of responsibilities very early on. As the eldest Tabris kid, he had a lot on his plate each and every day - especially after Adaia’s death - and it drained him a great deal. He sometimes felt like he didn’t even get a chance to properly mourn his mother. He just took that grief, scrunched it up - and put it aside - for later. He resented his role, deep down - but he took it very seriously all the same. He became so good at blunting edges and smothering fires because he’d done exactly that to all his fears, angers, dreams and ambitions.His arranged marriage was just a logical continuation of that.And I guess Cyrion knew all that - and had dozens of little ways of letting Lennan know none of that was taken for granted and that he was sorry and grateful… But that didn’t quite undo the damage.When it came to Darrian, Soris, and Shianni, Lenn just tried his best to keep them out of trouble, but not to spoil their fun TOO much. He didn’t always manage to strike the balance, though, they were a lot to handle.

Sometimes he resented them as well, for just–NOT GETTING it…

But all that occasional resentment and bottled-up anger aside, he loved them all - and didn’t hesitate to kill or die for them. 

How did Tabris handle being told of their arranged marriage?He tried to negotiate, to reason… But he caved in almost immediately. He’d seen it coming, sooner or later - and he didn’t have it in him to beg.He was in a relationship - but that affair had no future and he knew it.This was just another duty to take on.He felt really bad for his future wife though.

Did Tabris stop to talk with the children playing? If so, how did they handle the children saying they didn’t know any elven heroes?He did. And he immediately told them of Garahel.Did Tabris kill Vaughn or accept his money? Why?He didn’t even let him finish talking. It had been a shitty week and a particularly shitty day and finding one of the girls dead *really* pissed him off.The moment he saw Shianni lying on the floor, half-naked, beaten and broken, Vaughn’s remaining time was measured in the five quick steps it took Lennan to cross the distance between them.

—

Yes, @dickeybbqpit‘s Darrian is totally living in Lenn’s canon now.

[whereismywarden]

How about Show me where my armor ends. Show me where my skin begins. (Pluto) from the sleeping at last prompts? :)

Thank you for asking :)

I picked Violette for that one and I’m going to use it as an excuse to develop her backstory a little.

[Sleeping at Last Prompts]

read on ao3prompt: show me where my armor ends. show me where my skin begins.pairing: orsino x female oc.fic rating: t.warnings: grief, mentions of abuse.

She never expected to make it into adulthood. Born of two miserable elves in Meghren’s service, she had spent her childhood waiting for the mad king to pick her family as his next victims. And even if he didn’t, it would only be a matter of time until the Fereldan rebels killed them all for the crime of being Orlesians.

Eventually, the rebels had come to Denerim. Prince Maric had fought Meghren and stuck his head on a pike. But by then, Violette had already jumped onto the first ship out of this blasted country. She had been thirteen at the time — a young age to be a lone elven girl in Thedas. Bad things happened to young elven girls all the time in Thedas. It can’t be worse than those stuck-up, selfish, stinking high-borns, she figured.

Oh, Maker, how wrong she’d been.

She needn’t have worried about her future life on the streets, as it turned out. The Templars had already been waiting for her on Kirkwall’s docks. One of the ship’s crew had seen her practice her magic in the hold, lighting a candle or two, and sent a raven to the Chantry.

The Circle. That was what had hardened her. Not Meghren, not the Rebellion. The Gallows.

She’d been brought to that place over ten years ago. And now, here she was, all thick skin and sharp edges. Flesh made of stone and blood boiling with fire. She had witnessed so much pain and suffering in that place. She had lost a lot of friends to Tranquility, and too many others to failed Harrowings. One had escaped a few years ago, however. For all the good it does the rest of us, she thought.

Violette had no friends anymore. The choice had been hers. No friends meant no broken hearts. Not hers, but theirs. She had a way of getting on the Templars’ bad side, touching the wrong nerves and ending up in the dungeons more often than not. It was only a matter of time before they decided they would rather be rid of her for good. So, in the end, it was better for everyone if no one was too attached to her.

But Orsino had a friend. Maud, her name was. She had died a week ago. Frankly, Violette had never liked either of them. But the poor girl hadn’t deserved her fate.

His bedroom door was opened. What followed might never have happened had the door been locked. But it was opened, and she happened to walk by at the right moment. Orsino was sitting by the window, his green eyes lost in the distance. Violette knocked on the door, perhaps a little more roughly than necessary given the circumstances.

He jumped at the sound and glared at her. “I have no time for your petty squabbles today, Violette.”

“I came to say—” She fidgeted for a second, unsure of what one was supposed to say in these situations. “—I’m sorry about Maud. She was a sweet girl.”

“What are you really doing here?” he huffed, sneering at her. “You don’t care about people. In fact, you didn’t even like Maud.”

“Maybe not, but it doesn’t mean I wanted her dead. I may not care about people as much as you do, but I don’t want anyone dead, you know.”

Except for that connasse, Meredith. The templar had been a thorn in her side for years — ever since that ‘incident’ at Viscount Threnhold’s banquet when Violette had drunk too much red wine and ‘accidentally’ puked all over the young knight’s shining armour.

Closing the door behind her, Violette came to sit beside him. She took his hands between hers. That was what friendly people did to comfort each other, right?

“You don’t have to go through this alone, Orsino.”

He stared at their intertwined hands, surprise written all over his face.

“I know what you think of me. That I’m a cold-hearted bitch, but—”

“Do you want to know what I really think?” he asked, his eyes moving up to meet hers. “I think there’s a heart hidden under that rock armour you surround yourself with.” She let out a very unladylike snort. “I mean it. You pretend not to care — and you’re putting on a great show, by the way — but deep down you do care. Perhaps even a little too much.”

“You’re the one who cares too much, Orsino. Be careful or it will be your undoing.”

“You know I’m right, Violette, and it’s driving you crazy.”

“Show me, then, where the armour ends and the skin begins.”

And this is when it happened. Maybe he wouldn’t have kissed her, had he not been grieving. People did all sorts of stupid shits when they wanted to reduce their pain, after all. Or maybe he wouldn’t have carried her to his bed, had she not kissed him back. She always did stupid shits like this too whenever she felt like it. Maybe… Maybe… Maybe… Maybes didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it happened and that her armour came off for a few minutes of passion.

[impossible-rat-babies]

♢ — my muse and another character- maybe something for Tobin and one of his companions? :)

Sure! Thank you!

--

Fenris: You’re ears...one of your parents is an elf?

Tobin: My father was an elf. Came from Kirkwall actually and created quite the scandal for my mother. Didn’t help he was also a mage.

Fenris: Was?

Tobin: He passed away a few years back. It’s been just the four of us--well three of us--for a long while now.

Fenris: I apologize for asking...

Tobin: It’s alright, Fenris. You don’t need to apologize.

--

Tobin: Isabela, what’s in like sailing on a ship?

Isabela: You’ve been on a ship though, Duckie. You know what it feels like.

Tobin: Yes, but sailing--wait, did you call me Duckie? Why?

Isabela: You remind me of a little duckling sometimes. You know with the hair, the cute little way you always look lost.

Tobin: I thought Varric was the only one who could give nicknames.

Isabela: Oh he hardly has a monopoly on the nickname business, Duckie.

--

Anders: What are you going to do if the expedition doesn’t pay off?

Tobin: Carver would say we don’t have any other choice but for this to succeed.

Anders: Carver says a lot of things.

Tobin: Carver isn’t a mage, but that doesn't mean he doesn’t have something to lose from the Templars.

Anders: And what could that be?

Tobin: Me, his brother. He doesn’t talk about it much, but losing Bethany hit him hard. I would rather not have him lose more of our family.

--

send me a symbol for some party banter!

[musingmycelium]

Honestly, I was invested into William Hawke the moment I saw his aesthetic and I need to know more about him

:D aww thank you! okay i really like getting to know william and i’m just gonna throw the ideas i’ve had about him out 

he doesn’t drink alcohol often because he doesn’t like the taste of most ales or beers and those are what he’s been exposed to/has access to before kirkwall. and it just becomes a habit. he will, however, share sweet white wines with varric when they have dinner together 

in kirkwall when he and his mom move into the amell estate he plants a peach tree and an apple tree in the courtyard because those where carver and bethany’s favorite fruits respectively. when they’re grown and on the twin’s birthday he makes pies out of their fruit. 

he likes to sing! william has a great singing voice but he’s a little self-conscious about it. his voice is mellow and low and nice to listen to when he’s speaking and when he’s singing it's just like honey. 

when he’s at his lowest point as champion william will leave kirkwall for days to weeks at a time. not really telling anyone where he’s going because he doesn’t know himself. he just takes his crook and starts walking. sometimes he goes to the mountains, sometimes to the fields, and once he took to the sea as part of a fishing crew. 

wiliam likes the idea of romantic love more than the act. he thinks it’s something found only in novels and fantasies and real love between two people can’t truly be found. it scares him a little when he first notices his crush on varric because he doesn’t want to end up like his parents, falling in love recklessly without thinking about the consequences and rushing ahead only to fall apart later

[raymurata]

For any of your Ocs: What was the most unexpected frienship you found?

"That would be Leliana. I mean... if I’m to be honest here, what kind of deranged person befriends a ginger? Gingers can’t be trusted, innit? But... I guess Leliana just surprised me.

She surprised everyone. She’s got compassion for the lot of us, but that doesn’t make her freeze when the going gets tough. She gets things done; she’s independent and she’s really sharp-witted. I like competent people -- And I reckon I misjudged her when I saw the Chantry robes the first time. I wouldn’t trade our jam sessions for gold! And, you know... She’s just great fun to be around -- Endless stories. She knows every folk tale from every Southern country, really. And the ballads. But... if I were you I’d ask her about smallclothes pinned to a Chantry board.”

[talesfromthefade]

keeperscompanionsdai mentioned you on a post “A ko-fi commission from wonderful and amazing @seboostianillustrations...”

@talesfromthefade​ heya ^^ could you maybe not tag my ocs as cullen/cullavellan? much appreciated :)

Absolutely! So sorry about that. I have several groups of autotags I often use and must have clicked the wrong one when looking for those related to just Lavellan. It’s since been corrected. Thank you so much for sharing your lovely OCs with us.

[tk-duveraun]

☝ first time doing magic for Fox and Vasili :)

Fox:

Tevinter was a funny place. Usually, people were delighted to discover their abilities as a mage. Parties were planned, ceremonies held and marriages arranged.

But when little Faust Jean Marc Philipe woke on a patch of ice in the middle of summer there was only despair.

Vasili

“He killed her! Stop being nice to him! He’s evil!”

“Mother’s not dead! She left! She left and left us and-” Vasili fell back from his brother’s magic push. Instinct alone guided his hand to face his twin, palm-first. A jet of fire flared out, but didn’t hit Terenti’s clothes.

They never spoke of their mother’s disappearance again.

Thanks for asking!

[badthingshappenbingo]

CONGRATULATIONS TO @keeperscompanionsdai FOR GETTING A BINGO! BE SURE TO CHECK OUT HER COMPLETED FICS!

[red-wardens]

16. verklempt - completely and utterly overcome with emotion for anyone :)

Isseya Mahariel x Zevran Arainai

verklempt - completely and utterly overcome with emotion for anyone

Words: 385

————-

Fighting against draught-induced grogginess, Isseya Mahariel comes into consciousness. And she’s afraid. She feels the dampness from her sweat in the soft pillows and the hollowness in her abdomen. Before her eyes flutter open the dread seizes her. The aching pain between her legs is dulled by the familiar ache of the silence. She won’t cry this time; she’s known loss too many times to-

A soft coo brings her vision into focus. A lump forms in the back of her throat as she weakly raises her head and looks at the swaddle of blankets beside her. Without realizing it, she’d placed a protective arm around the small wriggling form and, as its agitated whimpers grew louder, she pulled the infant closer. She cannot stop the trembling in her hands or lower lip as the newborn’s eyes meet her own. Isseya has avoided mirrors for years but she still recognizes the color of her own eyes in the child’s- and at once she even matches her in her tears.

“Ah, you’re finally awake, mi amor,” a tender voice comes from behind her in the bed. For the first time since before the painful labor she remembers her husband close beside her. His scent is familiar, reassuring, and as Zevran wraps his own arms around her, kissing her damp face, moving sweat-soaked strands of hair away, she finally releases the breath she’d been holding. This is real.

Isseya tries to reply but the baby cries out again. Instinctively, and just as she’d imagine doing for a very long time, she pulls up the cotton nightgown and brings her daughter to her breast. Her daughter.

Zevran smiles, wipes away the dripping tears from his love’s cheeks as they come down, tries hard to hold back his own. Both of them are at a loss for words. Eight years. Eight years of attempts and fights and pain and loss. Each child lost before it was born, the countless inconsolable nights, had brought them here. To her. Creamy light brown skin, soft and new. Wisps of golden-brown curls on her head. She’s beautiful, she’s-

“Perfect,” Isseya’s voice breaks as she begins to cry in earnest. She kisses gently her daughter’s head, her tiny pointed ears. Her heart fluttering, a happiness unlike she’s ever known overwhelms her. “Zev, she’s perfect,”

—————

From: These Cool Words Prompts

[hurl-a-can]

If Das could pick any superpower/ talent; what would it be? What is in his opinion the coolest spell/ fighting move someone can have?

“Being at home in any environment!Impervious to cold and heat, being able to breathe underwater, that kind of thing!Especially that underwater moment, y’know.When I was a kid I always thought ‘wouldn’t it be awesome if I could just walk across the bottom of the Amaranthine Ocean’...So that, I guess...Y’know, when magical and martial prowess go hand in hand, that’s sexy as hell. When it’s so seamlessly woven together you can’t tell where the spell casting ends and a melee attack begins...Ranna’s really good at that. He’ll freeze you rock solid and knock your head off in one elegant swoop and he’ll make it look like fucking calligraphy.Show-off.”

[whereismywarden]

2,11,12 for any oc

Thank you so much for asking! I’m going to pick Ana :)

[Dragon Age character asks]

2. What weapon/type of magic do they prefer to use and is there a story behind it?

Ana specialized as an Arcane Warrior/Battlemage. She doesn’t carry a staff and prefers greatswords. Her weapon of choice is Vigilance, the sword Master Wade made specifically for her.

As a mage, she has a natural affinity for cold spells.

11. What languages do they speak? How did they learn them?

Ana can only speak the common tongue. However, she can understand written Orlesian without too much problem due to the many years she spent in the Circle library, trying to read every book at her disposal. A lot of them were in Orlesian, so she made a point of learning the language.

12. Are they a member of an order or organization (for example Grey Wardens, Chantry, Magisterium etc.)?

Ana is a Grey Warden. She enjoyed it well enough at first since it was her ticket out of the Circle, but she’s grown tired of it in recent years, especially after she started hearing the Calling.

[impossible-rat-babies]

Warden Felrielen & Shia’Laevel Lavellan

Big thank you to @keeperscompanionsdai for these wonderful sketches of @mistressmage and I’s characters! aka terrifying husband and wife, warrior and mage couple.

Thank you so much! :D

[ironbullsmissingeye]

Friend Appreciation Week 2

I got this artwork for @numbaoneflaya of my favourite weasel, Caz! Thanks for always supporting me and being a very funny member of my dash!

Artwork is by the amazing @keeperscompanionsdai! Please checkout their commission info and get some great artwork of your characters!

[tk-duveraun]

⭐ Aran maybe?

Aran is Aquila’s twin (Carina and Fox and Rathi as parents) He just takes more after dad in appearance and papa (rathi) in personality.

He’s not magical/Force Sensitive in any AUs and is very grounded.

He’s demi-pan and goes full USELESS GAY when he has feelings for someone. Just full cease function of all systems.

His weapon of choice is middle-range pistol/short bow depending on AU.

He’s in the dead-center of the hipster-punk spectrum

Thanks for asking!

[dinosaurdragon]

Pluviophile: any organism that thrives in conditions of heavy rainfall; one who loves rain, a rain-lover :)

thank you! i think i know precisely who this word is best for.

-

It should come as no surprise that Dima loved the rain. She adored rainfall; she spent many an afternoon soaking wet, drinking in the smell, the feel, the sight of rain pouring down upon everything around. And if it would storm, oh! That was even better--the thunder rolling into her very being, the lightning speaking to her soul.

When she was very young, it worried her parents, how she’d spend so much time out in the wet and cold, but they couldn’t keep her from it. When they tried, she’d just worm her way back out. (It was one of the few ways she was ever so directly disobedient.) She didn’t understand why they didn’t let her stay out; nothing bad ever happened to her in the rain! She never even got sick like they said she would! It was just nice.

Later, when her magic developed, it made more sense. Sometimes (though not always), a mage would be attracted to the natural forces that most closely mimicked the kind of magic that came most easily to them. For Dima, that was electricity and storm magic. It was fitting.

And she looked beautiful standing out there, when rain came down so thick one could see little else. She looked truly in her element.

So, of course, she would always have volunteered to go to the Storm Coast. It had absolutely nothing to do with the handsome man who’d invited the Inquisition there to meet his boss.

She just loved the rain, that’s all.