wittyrogue

[wittyrogue]

the nugs stay.

#anecdotist - written by jd. multimuse featuring original and canon characters from marvel comics, dragon age, starfield, and baldur's gate 3.

[wittyrogue]

AESTUUM. of the undulating, heaving motion of the sea, the swell, surge; the sea in agitation, waves, billows; the boiling up of water in a vessel; of the ferment or commotion of the mind, the fire, glow, ardor of any (even a good) passion .

private , low-activity , canon-divergent & headcanon based rp blog for CASADH THORNE - A GREY WARDEN ROOK from dragon age : the veilguard . mun & muse 21+ .  nsfw content present . written by paladin .  they/them . please read rules & info before interacting .

[wittyrogue]

zevran absolutely has a contract writer on retainer. honestly i imagine writing contracts in antiva is a really lucrative profession, considering lucanis mentioned having some as well. zevran will generally write up the gist of a deal before giving it to his contract writer to fancy up and send to the client for concurrence.

[wittyrogue]

@avrorean: " if it were up to you, how would you reply? " send me memes

"I suppose sending a dagger is out of the question?" Zevran tipped his head, looking curiously at Nanna.

Luckily, this wasn't about him or what he'd say or do. It was all up to the beautiful Grey Warden sitting across the table from him, staring at stacks of papers. His feet stayed propped up on the corner of the table, hands folded lazily behind his head.

"Perhaps it would be easier to think less of what you should say and more of what you want out of them." He regarded the ceiling thoughtfully. "Do you want them angry? Or grateful? Figuring out what affect you'd like to cause will allow your words to form more carefully."

[wittyrogue]

@valorcorrupt: Has there ever been a sex act that Zev really hyped himself up for only to find out in the moment that it's not that great? ask me anything

there's probably lots of little things that have happened over the years, most of them surmountable. he can ignore things he's not particularly into by letting himself get lost in his partner's pleasure of it, which can generally get him off.

the one thing, though, that was a surprise to him and he just couldn't quite push through is intentional pain. things like scratching and biting are fine, even if it draws a bit of blood. holding on too hard, bumping into each other awkwardly, falling on the floor--that's all fine too. what he just can't get into are things like spanking, slapping, whipping, extreme hot/cold, etc. he'd originally thought with his high pain tolerance it'd be fun. but as it turns out, he instinctively reacts to pain--regardless if intended for pleasure or torture--with his crow training. he was taught to, more or less, ignore and cope with pain by disassociating.

the first time it happened, he was completely thrown off. wrecked the mood, nearly fumbled the assassination entirely, but finished the job with no one but him the wiser. since then he's been careful to avoid pain like that in the bedroom, or if it's unavoidable, at least knows he'll need to work to combat his instincts.

[wittyrogue]

@wittyrogue - Zevran slid a box across the table. Inside is a carefully extracted human heart, still surprisingly fresh. "For obvious reasons, this must be a metaphor, but it is safe to say--you have my heart at your disposal."

There were gifts, of course; trinkets and baubles, flowers, “romantic twaddle” he'd been accused of innumerable times.  Trite, it had been said.  Mawkishly cloying and insipid performative nonsense, dewy-eyed to the point of naivety.  And, perhaps on the grander scale, they were, but given genuinely, from one's heart, chosen for the qualities one wished to underline - after all, there were times sentiments could be shared all the more elegantly with flowers, chosen with care, than any word ever define and illustrate - he supposed it added a bit of tenderness in a world that all too often lacked it.

But those were gifts, with a small g.  The effort one put into their fidelity to a meaning made up for any banality they held.

Then there were Gifts.  Gifts were part of a realm that spoke to the darker corners of the soul, the very nature of which were given with the intention of the recipient being seen.  Of being known.  It was not unlike finding one's self as a specimen for examination and study, perfectly pinned with such aching care, in such a way that things one would rather conceal were exposed for viewing.  For rumination.  Acceptance or denial.

Gifts-small-g were pleasant little things.  Things meant to evoke certain emotions, to soften another's heart, or to express the appreciation and affection one felt for another.  Gifts were far more primal in their intent.  They, too, pulled emotions from the recipient, but rather than the soft flutterings of a moth's wings against the heart, they were claws, digging into the living, beating muscle of it, demanding raw and unfiltered acknowledgement for the way they slipped past the ribs, squeezed the heart with greedy, insistent fingers, to milk if of every drop of untempered emotion.

It wasn't often that he was struck truly speechless.  Caught off guard, he liked to think he rallied rather quickly enough, covered any pause, any awkward gawking, with a smile, and soon righted things with a rejoinder.

He had no rejoinder to offer here.

Altogether gruesome, perhaps, to the outside observer, the organ in all its pinks and greys of cardiac fiber, artery, and vein lay in the box, as cleanly exposed as any Watcher worth their oaths could offer, fresh enough, he supposed, it almost appeared as though it could be on the cusp of resuming a steady rhythm at any moment.  Without truly thinking - and there were variables there that required thought, such as where the Gift had been collected - he reached in to lift it out.  Roughly the size of a fist, it settled there in the cradle of his palms like a macabre offering, cold to the touch, but pliant.  Malleable.  Healthy - or would have been, were it still attached in a way that its function hadn't been impeded.

It, too, was a beautiful specimen, raw in its intent, carefully chosen for its meaning and exposed in ways it never intended itself to be.

“Dearest,” he began, slowly, as though carefully picking though a catalogue of emotions and sentiments, rifling through metaphorical boxes and drawers for spare syntax, to find exactly what he wished to say, as he gently lowered the heart back into the box from whence it came, nestling it once more carefully inside.  There was something sacrilegious, to a point, in holding Zevran's metaphor, as he had so coyly phrased it, knowing it had once belonged to someone as living and breathing as either of them.  A macabre joke, perhaps:  Your heart in my hands.  The answer given in the care with which he placed it within the safe confines it had arrived in.

It was, speaking plainly, terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

“You truly choose the most curious avenues of expressing a sentiment.”  He wanted to inquire - a truly ghoulish impulse - who Zevran had chosen as his representative, however…While curiosity was a powerful driving force, trust, he thought, and intention, were the more poignant and salient moorings, a bower for the overwhelm the gesture imparted.

He reached over, his touch almost feather-light as he cupped Zevran's chin a moment, to better observe the play of light across his face, to memorize his expression, as such moments demand of the truly and ardently enamored.  “I'm afraid I have nothing of equal value to repay such a generous and humbling gift that you don't already claim as your own.”

[wittyrogue]

@thanatologie: ❛  i  am  being  perfectly  fucking  civil  .  ❜ send memes

Somehow, curses were not something he'd put under the definition of "civil."

"I understand the man is selling some false goods," Zevran murmured, eyes flicking from Emmrich to the salesman and back. "But don't you think this is a little... extreme? Surely just... setting his booth on fire would suffice?"

[wittyrogue]

❥     𝐓𝐎  𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄  𝐕𝐄𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓  ,  𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒  𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌  𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓  .

bitter  /  aggressive  one  -  liners  as  taken  from  the  website  pinterest  . tw  adult  themes  .     customize  as  you  wish  !

❛  fight  because  you  don’t  know  how  to  die  quietly  .  ❜ ❛  i’d  rather  die  on  my  feet  than  live  on  my  knees  .  ❜ ❛  i’ll  get  over  it  ,  i  just  gotta  be  dramatic  first  .  ❜ ❛  you  don’t  get  to  be  surprised  that  nobody  gives  a  fuck  about  you  after  you’ve  worked  so  hard  to  alienate  the  entire  world  .  ❜ ❛  i  wouldn’t  be  like  this  if  i  knew  how  to  not  be  like  this  ,  okay  ?  ❜ ❛  i  had  to  fight  like  hell  and  fighting  like  hell  made  me  what  i  am  .  ❜ ❛  i  will  be  brutal  .  ❜ ❛  i  don’t  want  to  be  soft  anymore  .  i  want  to  be  bloody  knuckles  and  glass  shards  and  i  want  people  to  be  afraid  of  hurting  me  .  ❜ ❛  bring  them  to  their  knees  .  head  bowed  and  fists  bleeding  —  make  them  repent  .  ❜ ❛  is  this  what  i  get  for  loving  a  god  ?  ❜ ❛  you’re  a  weapon  ;  and  weapons  don’t  weep  .  ❜ ❛  i’ll  survive  .  somehow  i  always  do  .  ❜ ❛  the  things  that   used   to  make  me  cry  just  make   my  hands  shake  and  my  eyes  blank  .  ❜ ❛  i’ve  begun  to  understand  why  god  died  .  ❜ ❛  i  speak  violence  .  ❜ ❛  it’s  not  my  fault  i  have  my  father’s  eyes  .  ❜ ❛  judge  if  you  want  ,  we  are  all  going  to  die  .  i  intend  to  deserve  it  .  ❜ ❛  i  need  to  kill  you  .  ❜ ❛  i  will  continue  to  watch  you  rot  .  ❜ ❛  i  wasn’t  born  to  be  soft  and  quiet  .  i  was  born  to  make  the  world  shatter  and  shake  at  my  fingertips  .  ❜ ❛  you’re  not  a  nice  person  ,  are  you  ?  ❜ ❛  when  i  punched  you  .  that  was  when  i  first  felt  something  for  you  .  ❜ ❛  if  you  don’t  terrify  people  a  little  bit  then  what’s  the  point  ?  ❜ ❛  i  could  tear  you  apart  if  i  wanted  .  ❜ ❛  do  not  tell  me  what  i  can  and  cannot  do  .  ❜ ❛  i  can  and  i  will  .  watch  me  .  ❜ ❛  no  one  made  me  .  i  made  me  .  ❜ ❛  take  a  breath  ,  spit  out  the  blood  in  your  mouth  ,  and  get  back  up  on  your  feet  .  you  still  got  a  couple  motherfuckers  to  prove  wrong  .  ❜ ❛  here’s  what  i  know  ;  i  will  die  only  by  my  own  hand  .  ❜ ❛  i’m  everything  you  can’t  control  .  ❜ ❛  i  am  violent  ,  and  bitter  ,  and  ugly  inside  and  out  .  ❜ ❛  i  am  being  perfectly  fucking  civil  .  ❜ ❛  goddamn  right  ,  you  should  be  scared  of  me  .  ❜ ❛  you  are  losing  my  interest  ,  and  that  is  very  dangerous  .  ❜ ❛  if  i  can  still  breathe  ,  i’m  fine  .  ❜ ❛  i  will  do  what  it  takes  to  survive  .  ❜ ❛  if  karma  doesn’t  hit  you  ,  i  fucking  will  .  ❜ ❛  don’t  be  sorry  .  i  trusted  you  ,  my  fault  not  yours  .  ❜ ❛  i  wonder  if  life  smokes  after  it  fucks  me  .  ❜ ❛  i  don’t  have  to  prove  shit  to  you  .  ❜ ❛  i’m  not  tearing  down  my  walls  for  anyone  again  .  you  want  to  know  what’s  inside  ?  climb  .  ❜ ❛  i  am  mine  .  before  i  am  ever  anyone  else’s  .  ❜

[wittyrogue]

none of y'all are real

zevran would've loved naruto

[wittyrogue]

theres no such thing as tmi to me. i want to live in your ribcage.

[wittyrogue]

two thoughts

if neither zevran nor alistair are being romanced in a non inara origins universe, zevran is absolutely trying to get alistair to bat for both teams. this does not stop if he becomes king.

i also have to be honest, he'd offer his services (assassin and personal) to queen anora (single or wed). he likes beautiful, dangerous things and she fits the bill

[wittyrogue]

THE ADDAMS FAMILY Cat Addams

[wittyrogue]

@valorcorrupt: If Inara kissed Zevran the night after the Landsmeet, would it upset him / break his heart a little? Would he feel used? random character questions are always good

She's beautiful.

She's sobbing her heart out, hiccuping, gasping for breath, snot running down her face. But she's beautiful and real and warm and clinging to him.

There's an incredibly stupid, incredibly selfish part of him that's glad to be here. Glad to be the one she reaches to for comfort. It could've been others--they've all become friends of sorts over this tumultuous road.

Although, he supposes, there's one less relationship between some of them right now.

Zevran does what feels most natural: he wraps his arms around her shoulders, presses a light kiss to her forehead, and simply runs his fingers through her hair. He soothes her, but doesn't shush. The stone walls of the room might echo, but there's no one in the room but them to hear her sob or wail. Whatever she needed.

Inara's crying stumbled and stuttered, shaky breathes threatening a return. His shirt's soaked at the chest. His thigh is cramping. He still doesn't move aside from running his fingers through her hair, silky and smooth at this point from his petting.

When she shifts to look up at him, eyes red and shining, he moves his hand to cup her cheek, brows raising in silent question. She looks at his lips. Up at his eyes. Back to his lips.

He shouldn't be surprised, yet as she pushes up against him, his breath catches as their lips meet.

Any other time, he'd be thrilled. He'd roll her over and kiss her til she was breathless and laughing. Until she forgot about all her troubles and worries, until she was asking for more. More of him.

But her cheeks are still wet from crying over Alistair.

Give in, give in. Her lips were so tempting, so needful. He could give so much comfort. For her, he could give anything she desired.

And if she wanted him? Tonight? As a distraction?

Who was he to deny her? Why give her further pain when he could hide his own beneath both their pleasure.

Gently, gently, he moved his kisses to the corner of her lips, to her tear-stained cheek, the bridge of her nose, then her temple. One hand cradled her head while the other squeezed her shoulder.

"Rest with me." Mi amore chokes his throat and dies in his mouth. His heart beat so loud. Could Inara hear it? Could she feel it? Did she catch the longing he whispered into her skin? "I'm not leaving. Rest, Inara, rest."

She settled once again into his chest. He carefully tucked her head under his chin and began rubbing soothing circles against her back. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend this wasn't about anyone else.

Inara slept.

Zevran didn't.

[wittyrogue]

@valorcorrupt: What would Zevran say to Alistair after the Landsmeet (specifically for Inara's situation but also broader for other choices if u want)? random character questions are always good

he's not... mad at alistair, not necessarily. the tragedy of the situation is that he sees both sides. he knows that inara and alistair loved each other, he could see the split coming as the discussion with what to do with loghain started, he feels for both sides. inara would have to kill a hero she reveres and potentially short them a potential warden. also, even as an assassin, killing a father in front of their child is rough. for alistair, it's a sudden betrayal by someone he thought the love of his life in exchange for someone he despises, who killed his father-figure and has hunted them for nearly a year.

zevran's solution: be an orphan. parents just cause trauma. as if he escaped.

but no, in seriousness--he gets the situation, but how it fell out is... cruel. it's humiliating, it's unnecessary, and it's a lot of hurt on both sides. he stays with inara because she needs someone, and while he doesn't think he's very good at comfort--doesn't really know what to say or do--he'll hold her and let her cry for as long as she needs, and make sure the others give her as much privacy as possible.

if she does fall asleep? he slips off to go see alistair. not to play the blame game, but also to see how he's doing. because zevran does think he's friends with both of them. yes, he loves inara, but he also cares for alistair quite a bit. and afterall, he did just declare himself king (after repeating multiple times how he doesn't want that), vow to marry a woman he's never met, and publicly broken off a year long intense romance. alistair's got to be feeling something about all of it, and there's... not really anyone he has to lean on?

so he'd ask if he's okay. he will explicitly state he won't talk about how inara is doing--it will help neither of them--but he'll offer to listen if alistair wants to talk. he'll let him vent and be bitter or sarcastic, though if he starts disparaging inara, he'll simply leave.

and that's kind of the tone he takes for the rest of their friendship--he'll help alistair, he'll visit, he'll be as close as alistair will let him, but he won't tell him how inara is or what she's doing or how she's feeling. he gave up the right to know those things when he broke up with her.

if inara never falls asleep before end game things are set in motion? zevran doesn't speak to alistair until after inara's healed from the battle with the archdemon. he's glued to her side until she's out of the worst of it and assured that she'll live. what he says then?

"you're very lucky that heartbreak didn't kill her."

[wittyrogue]

@valorcorrupt: What choice the Warden can make does Zevran most heavily disapprove of? random character questions are always good

i'm actually gonna answer this in lieu of doing a bingo card because what zevran's sexual attraction and actual morals are two separate things that would kind of result in two completely different bingo cards and i'm too tired for that.

zevran's biggest sticking point, the thing he's most likely to pick a fight over or even potentially leave over, is punching down. it's kicking people already at the mercy of others, it's hurting the little guy, it's attacking the defenseless.

the best example i have is when the warden tries to annul the circle during da:o. i don't have a video of it, so you'll just have to read the following, but he goes on, longer than any companion, in voicing opposition to the warden's choice to annul the circle.

Zevran: I am hardly the person to lecture on the worthier points of human nature, but surely this is a fine time to display the oft-lauded virtue known as mercy? I deserved to die, and you spared me. Why are you so quick to condemn these mages? Warden: You’re a lot better-looking than most of the mages. Zevran: Why, thank you. Flattery would normally distract me, but not today. Inconvenient, no? Warden: You’re saying I made a mistake sparing you? Zevran: (Nervous laughter) Perhaps. But you did it nevertheless, no? Warden: Magic and knives are different. Zevran: Magic can kill. Knives can kill. Even small children launched at great speed could kill. Why single out the wielders of one and not the others? Warden: Mages can do more damage with one spell than you ever could. Zevran: Mm. Touché. I’ve taken the lives of many throughout my career, but this is no measured act. There is no chase, no hunt, no dignity in this… there is only slaughter. Warden: What about the people they might slaughter? Zevran: Might, not will. Committing genocide just because something might happen is more than the mark of a weak mind. It is insanity. Warden: Zevran, you’re a hypocrite. Zevran: Perhaps I am at that, and a thief and a murderer as well. But I looked my victims in the face.

he doesn't want to kill the mages. he knows, far too well, what it's like to have to do horrible things to survive when locked in a cage. he relates so hard to them, and is trying to stand up to a warden who literally just threatened to kill him.

killing and slaughtering your way through the armies against you? fine. being absolutely ruthless with those who stand against you? absolutely understandable. wanton death and destruction? hold up. check yourself. because at the end of the day, he's been in that situation--he's been powerless and trapped and at the mercy of others and wanted to be shown mercy. and wasn't. and he's gonna stick his neck out for anyone in that situation when he comes across it and feels he has the power to help. the warden spared him for some reason, and he doesn't know why, but he sees himself in these mages, so surely if he just points it out, it'll change the warden's mind.

if it does, then all's forgiven.

if it doesn't... well, he's promised to stop the blight and he wants to be a man of his word.

this plays out again with the dalish in nature of the beast and during the quest unrest in the alienage (unfortunately i don't have the dialogue for these off hand). specifically for nature of the beast, he's happy to have the lady of the forest and zarathian talk to each other. any outcomes after that are fine... except if you march on the dalish, in which he begs for you not to.

i think by the time the warden gets to unrest in the alienage, if the elves that are captured are sold into slavery and the slaver remains alive, oaths or no, crows hunting him or no, zevran's out. and yes, that's a long time to hold on, but truly, zevran can tolerate a lot. he knows how to keep his head down to survive. but is survival worth it if he has to ally himself with a monster to do so?

so now, back to the bingo: zevran finds beauty in a lot of things. he's pansexual, with a high libido, and in general is happy with casual sex wherever it occurs. it's fun, it's stress relief, he'd pretty much sleep with anyone, though whether he likes himself in the morning may be a question, depending on the person. but to get to his heart, he has a strong sense of protection for the weak and compassion for those who can't protect themselves. he wants to seen that shown to others. he wants that same care and compassion shown to him, and interest in him beyond what skills he brings to the table or the bed. he hasn't been treated like a person much in his life, and he treasures those few people who treat him kindly. and though he's terrified of it, he longs for the emotional intimacy he almost had in the past, and he needs someone to tell him he's worth it.

[wittyrogue]

from @wittyrogue: ❛  there's no length i wouldn't go if it was you i had to save.  ❜

"Zevran, I—"

She should have said it then, of course. It was the perfect time, maybe the only time she had left.

But the words didn't come. They couldn't. As she laid there on the ground, her body shaking, back heaving with every breath she fought for, she knew that they wouldn't.

Her eyes were wide as she stared at him, standing there below her. Tears pushed their way into the corners of her eyes, and her mouth opened and closed without bearing fruit. The great beast beyond him roared again, and Zevran flipped his daggers in his hands.

"Don't go," she begged. "Not alone. We can still..."

Her breath ran out. Flee. Attempting to flee was what got them here. Every time the beast stomped its feet and screamed, the caverns shook. She hadn't been quick enough. The boulders slipped—

She twisted in desperation, her free foot planting itself against the boulder that trapped her other leg and pushing with all her might. Noises ripped themselves out of her throat with the effort, curses boiling, blurring through her brain.

But it couldn't be moved. She collapsed again, struggling, fighting for breath. She looked up again, and through tear-blurred eyes, she saw that he'd already gone.

The beast roared again, in anger this time.

"I love you," she heaved into the emptiness.

A condemnation, a curse, a prayer. Don't leave me here alone.

"I love you."

Please come back and hear it said.

"I love you."

And I'm sorry for what that's done to us both.

[wittyrogue]

@wittyrogue