#Alistair you sexy bastard (literally) do something!!!!

[rhysnolastname]

The little circus like music playing in DA:O while my entire party takes critical hit after critical hit and gets completely obliterated in less than 2 minutes 😭😭😭😭😭

[ramblinganthropologist]

Headache Relief

Summary: Alistair Shepard’s got one hell of a headache and the medicine ain’t helping. Lucky for him, he’s got another relief option. Problem is he didn’t expect to see Garrus Vakarian involved with that. Fuck, maybe he should’ve taken a double dose after all...

---

There were times Alistair was glad to be human. This wasn’t one of them.

“Fuck…”

The expletive leaked from between his teeth as he stepped off the elevator and into his private quarters. Right then he was running on instinct, heading towards his desk and the drawer that held his only chance of functioning at a lumbering pace. At least he didn’t hit the wall as he slumped down to dig – that was a nice bonus.

The bottle of pills hidden under some paper was half full. He shook two out, swallowing them with a bit of the water he always kept on his desk for that reason. Then it was straight to his bed. The only thing he remembered to do was click off the light as he collapsed face down into his pillow.

Biotic headaches: L2s might have gotten them the worst, but everyone had to face them eventually. Consider it the cost of doing business.

Colors bloomed behind the man’s eyes as he waited and prayed for the medicine to take effect. Part of him knew his chances were slim – his headache had started on the shuttle, so he was clearly out of the full range of help. Still, even if it took the edge off, he could function in an hour or so. At that point it was all Alistair could hope for as he felt the pain pulse.

Yep… he had definitely overdone it with the biotics. Simple mission, his pale and freckled ass.

“You think Miranda would have reinforced that.” His words came out low as he muttered them into his pillow. No doubt the camera she had planted in his room would pick it up, and frankly he didn’t care. It was another point of data that was going to go on his report of things she had messed up bringing him back to life. Was it petty to have a list of complaints with the person who brought him back from the dead?

Probably, but who cared. She’d left him with a functioning uterus, she could deal with the fallout.

At least it gave him something to focus on as he lay there in the dark, begging for some relief from the little pills. Thanks to his medic training, he knew how long it would take for the medicine to absorb into his system. Experience was an even better teacher, however – his biotics would make it go even faster.

It was weird – they were the reason he was taking the medicine, but they were also the reason it worked faster to relieve the pain. Talk about a catch-22.

Alistair laid there for what felt like an eternity, pain still throbbing against his temples. The soft glow of his omni-tool told him enough time had passed that the pills should have worked. Much to his immense displeasure, he still felt the majority of the pain as he rolled over onto his side.

In times like this, there was only one other hope of relief.

Slowly, the biotic rose to a sitting position, head still pounding. He went for the small table beside his bed, digging through the contents. Eventually, he found what he was looking for, buried towards the back. It took a few seconds more, but he pulled it free into the darkness of his quarters.

“Well… at least I don’t have to clean the one in my toolbox for its intended use.” Alistair grumbled to himself as he flicked his vibrator on to make sure it had enough power. He quietly thanked the universe that it buzzed to life as he clumsily unbuckled his belt, then slid out of his pants and upper layer of boxers. At some point, his packer slipped and hit the ground, but he didn’t care. Right then, it was in the way of pulling down his inner layer of underwear.

He lay back on his pillow, naked from the waist down. Usually, he would pull his blanket over so the Illusive Man didn’t get a show, but right then his brain was overriding whatever sense of shame he had left in him. The bastard could get what he paid for as he flicked the power to a medium setting and then applied it. The vibration soon started to flood through his body as he closed his eyes and waited.

This was always the most boring part. Unlike most people, Alistair didn’t watch porn. He didn’t see anything wrong with it, mind you, he just had no interest. The one time he had tried, he had wound up trying to piece together how it had been edited during one of the more heated moments between the actors on screen. By the time he had realized he had been trying to masturbate, his vibrator had long since died and he was long beyond his occasional need to get off.

Such was the fate of one on the asexual spectrum, he supposed.

“Damn it, can’t this go any faster?”

Alistair grumbled as he flicked the setting a little higher than he normally preferred. Then he shifted positions, pressing it a little harder in the hopes that might do something. The sensation was definitely building in his stomach, but it wasn’t nearly to the point he needed.

He sighed, closing his eyes once more. This was probably the point people made something up if they had nothing to watch. He had certainly tried in the past, particularly in his teens. However, those flimsy fantasies never really held up, and more often than not faded to the blackness of the inside of his eyelids within a few seconds. Whether that was because it didn’t work or he was just really bad at constructing sexy scenarios, he didn’t know.

At least it would be able to distract him while he waited for the vibrator to do its thing…

“Come on, think. You’re surrounded by muscular men literally every day, you have to have something in there to work with.”  

Of course, those people were under him now. It made it a little hard to picture anyone like them… under him. Such was the downside of being a commanding officer: anyone on ship was off limits.

…

Well, technically he WAS still considered dead by the Alliance…

“I am only considering this because I need something to focus on other than the damn ceiling.”

Alistair sighed as he did his best to try and imagine someone based on the people around him. Like always, a body slowly materialized with plenty of muscle underneath him, fully erect and ready to go. It didn’t have a face – it never did, thank God – and something about the skin seemed rather plastic-like. More importantly… they were kind of a dead fish. Even as he imagined himself lowering onto the dick, there was no reaction.

It was because he was still a virgin, wasn’t it? He knew he should’ve paid more attention to that porn, but could you blame him? He just HAD to know what kind of camera they were using to film the climax scenes, it worked so well in low light…

“Damn it, Alistair, fucking focus on the fucking…”

But it was no good – the plastic body remained lukewarm, vaguely thrusting in time with the vibrator pressed against his oft ignored clit.  He was right back to where he had started, and his head still pounded. Sighing, Alistair shut off his vibrator and sat up. As soon as he did, his omni-tool began to beep.

54.

“Great. My head hurts, and I’m hypo.” He didn’t bother with fitting his packer back into his underwear. Instead, the Spectre grabbed his boxers and padded over to his emergency sugar supply. A small pile of pixie stick wrappers soon formed as he tried not to mope too much about his inability to fix his headache. At least the sugar made his lips stop feeling numb, but it wasn’t like he had to use them right then.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair and dislodging the rubber band holding it back in the process. “Guess I’ll just try to sleep it off without the added headache relief.”

That was the great thing about being on the ace side of life – no lingering horniness thanks to his inept abilities.

With another sigh, Alistair made his way back to his bed. This time, he slid under the covers and closed his eyes. His head still pounded, but in the quiet of his quarters he found it a little easier to slip into sleep.

---

“Commander…”

“Vakarian, keep on. That’s an order.”

The body beneath him was hot, almost uncomfortably so. Without skin, the surface was hard and a little rocky where plates joined together. It was a little slick too, and not just because of the lube – carapaces were a fucking slip and slide in the bedroom if you weren’t ready for the angles. It was a little uncomfortable, but with positioning - and a little flexibility - things went where they needed to go.

The turian’s eyes were cloudy with blown pupils. He was breathing hard, grasping at the sheets. His erection had long since shown itself, now buried deep.  When he rubbed against it, the collision of their hips made him whimper.

“I can’t hold it much longer…”

He smirked and leaned closed to the strange neck ahead of him, lips barely ghosting against the hard skin. “Are you giving out on me, Vakarian?”

“N-no, sir…” He was panting, trying to rub. But there would be none of that. Alistair shifted his position to make sure he couldn’t find the relief. Beneath him, Garrus whimpered again, and his mandibles fluttered once more.

It was here that he took his time, carefully biting at the sensitive parts of the turian’s neck. The whimpering got so high pitched that the translator couldn’t work with it anymore, and his natural voice broke through. There was something primal about it, and even though he didn’t have full command of the words, it was enough to get him to smirk as he stopped biting and ran a carful finger between two plates.

“What was that?”

Garrus’ voice was breathy when the translator finally kicked in. “N-nothing, sir…”

His grip was iron on the sheets, and his entire body was trembling. There was the point of climax, and then there it was past it. Clearly, he was edging towards the latter. Alistair nodded as he shifted his position, lowering a bit more. Beneath him, Garrus whimpered again.

“You know what you have to say, Vakarian.”

The turian took a shaky breath, eyes so wide they reminded him of a cat. “Yes, Commander…”

Another shaky breath. “Permission to come aboard?”

It was at this point that Alistair shifted again, fully lowering himself against the turian’s sensitive member, nudging his head close to where he heard best. “Permission granted, Vakarian.”

With that, he rubbed the space between plates one last time, working a nail into right where it was the most sensitive. Beneath him, Garrus shuddered as he finally climaxed, his entire body shaking from the force. All the while, he held on, feeling the vibrations and pulse of the turian’s orgasm.

It was at this point he rolled off to protect himself from the withdrawal. The bad thing about turians was that their anatomy was all internal, regardless of gender. That meant Garrus needed to remove the condom before things got stuck and required an embarrassing visit to a doctor for removal.

“Sir… I…”

Alistair carefully removed the condom for the shaking turian, tossing it to the trash. “Can’t have you out of service, Vakarian.”

“Thank you…” Garrus’ voice was still shaky and going in and out of the translator, but his eyes were more focused. “And you, sir?”

This was the point the turian’s careful hand reached toward him, pausing. He knew better. But right then, Alistair allowed it with a nod. Cautious talons soon found his clit, already slick from a combination of the lube and his own heat.

Here it was faster. Garrus was a pro at getting him off with careful strokes that avoided the sharp side of his clipped talons. The heat was beginning to pool in Alistair’s stomach once more, but he fought back a grunt.

After all, it wouldn’t do to show that in front of his men.

---

Alistair’s eyes snapped open as he sat up. His head still ached, but it wasn’t really his focus then.  A familiar sensation of heat was growing in his stomach as his consciousness slowly filtered in. Without pause, he peeled off both the blanket and his boxers. Just like he thought, he was already wet and close to the point.

Barely breathing, he reached for his vibrator and flicked it on. Garrus’ strained voice and shaking hands were still in his mind as he leaned back and let it work. Just the thought of the turian so close to orgasm and unable to do anything about it caused him to shiver, and it was at that point that it kicked into high gear.

After a few seconds, he climaxed with a shudder and a quiet squeak of a moan. Sweating a little, he turned off the vibrations and just lay there in bed, staring up at the covered ceiling. Someone – probably his sister – had stuck glow in the dark stickers to the dark fabric stretched across the skylight. It looked like Orion’s Belt to him, not that he had ever seen it in person.

…

Yeah, he was definitely trying to avoid this.

“Man, fuck me…”

He sighed. On the bright side, the orgasm had done its job – combined with the medicine, it was easier to think now, and his pounding headache had reduced itself to a dull throb that he could work with. However, now he had a new headache as he sat up to head to the shower.

Garrus’ face was still in his head as he stripped and let the hot water hit his back. Just imagining it made his hand want to wander down from its spot pressed against the wall towards his clit. But he resisted the urge as he shook his head, water flying thanks to his wet hair.

“I can’t believe I went there with him. What the hell am I thinking?”

Alistair rested his forehead against the wall, groaning. This wasn’t the first time he’d had thoughts like this, though it was the first with someone he knew. As much as he hated to admit it, something about that kind of control excited him.

Which, given he was a fucking commanding officer, was a nightmare. It wasn’t like he got off to ordering people around, though; that was business, and he took no pleasure in it. These thoughts just popped up in his private life, in the rare internet searches he did in incognito and made sure his omni-tool was blocking everything out.

“And with Garrus… fuck.”

That was probably the worst part of all as he watched the water circle the drain. Things were better with the turian since they had met up on Omega, but there was being civil and… that. Honestly, it felt awful to him as he played it over again in his mind, closing his eyes tightly.

Awful… but also awfully hot.

His free hand brushed against his thigh, fingers finding his clit. As the water poured down, he rubbed slowly, playing the memory over in his brain. His mind kept focusing on the look on Garrus’ face, on his breathy voice breaking translation. Just imagining him whimpering on the edge of climax with nowhere to go made the heat pool in his stomach. Did the real turian look and sound like that when he was so close to the edge?

“Damn it, Vakarian…”

It came out under his breath in an octave he normally couldn’t hit unless he strained at the bottom of his range. Yet at the moment, it was almost effortless as he replayed the turian underneath him, writhing and unable to do anything about it.

Well, nothing except beg anyway.

Of course, there was a downside to jacking off in the shower. Given the fact he was just standing there, the motion activated lights stopped activating, and he was suddenly in the dark. The quick loss of light was enough to snap him out of the dream and take too quick a step back.

And then on his ass he went.

“Fuck!”

Alistair’s vision swam as he winced, reaching up to turn the water off as his ass throbbed from the force of 140 pounds falling onto it. Nothing felt broken, but there was definitely going to be a bruise once he dried off. Lucky for him, nobody was looking there anyway.

“Shepard, I detected a fall. Are you experiencing hypoglycemic shock?”

EDI’s electronic voice made the whole thing worse as he finally stood, soaking wet and feeling rather stupid. He grabbed for a towel and dried off, wincing as he reached his backside. That one was going to be spectacular.

“I don’t have my omni-tool on, EDI. I’ll let you know in a second.”

A few moments later, with a happy CGM, Alistair sat gingerly at his desk. Now he had two dull throbs to keep him company, along with the reminder of just what the fuck he had been doing a few moments prior. His cheeks colored as he rubbed the towel over his wet hair, trying to block it out.

“Shepard?”

Right, EDI…

“It’s fine, EDI. I just was in there too long and I slipped.” He paused, looking out from under the towel towards the blur orb. “Er, thank you for checking on me.”

What could he say, apart from jacking off to the submissive version of his crewmate, he was a polite man.

The orb clicked off, leaving him to his brooding. Alistair groaned a little as he felt the bruise throb once more. Maybe it was the universe punishing him. Didn’t matter, still fucking hurt as he finished drying off.

“I’m probably going to have to avoid Garrus for a little bit.” He frowned. “Can’t have that happen again. It’d be too awkward…”

But then his eye went to his schedule. His stomach dropped at the sight. Thanks to his headache, he had totally forgotten that he was supposed to check the turian’s new implants to make sure everything was ok. As a matter of fact, he had an hour at best.

He could go to Chakwas for that, right? Right?

“I’m so fucked.”

The human rested his soggy forehead on the deck, mentally willing wherever his dream had come from back to whatever hell it had generated. Lucky for him, he was good at repressing things. With any luck, he wouldn’t even think about it by the time the turian got there for the implant check.

After, though? Well… he was pretty sure he was fucked. Next time he was just going to take a double dose of pain pills. After all, with that new stomach and liver he was pretty sure his body could take that kind of beating. It would be better than the other kind, to say the least.

[sarsaparillia]

Hi dragon age anon from a few weeks ago here! Here are my current thoughts that you didn’t ask for: Alistair is my best (literal) bastard boy and i really just want people to be nice to him; the fact that i can't romance morrigan as a fem pc is HOMOPHOBIC unfortunately every time i do something nice for a stranger she thinks it's very unsexy of me; i just recruited zevran so i think the party is now at maximum sexiness levels anyway thank you for (unintentionally) introducing me to this game

DUDE PLEASE TELL ME MORE I TRULY LOVE WATCHING PEOPLE GO DOWN THIS RABBIT HOLE

also yes it is incredibly homophobic that you cannot romance morrigan as a lady HOWEVER this mod will let you date her however you want. give her lots of jewellery and help her kill her mom, you’ll be fine

[greensconnor]

i’m asking about your dragon age characters

molly i would KILL for u im ur personal hitman now

anyway i said my city now because the entire bioware writing team sucks shit xoxo and i’m so much smarter than all of them but also fully incapable of having a normal amount of ocs for anything (see: the time i made 20 rwby ocs in less than two weeks) so i have. five worldstates here r some assorted thoughts

uhhh so the worldstates r as follows

eira mahariel (two-handed berserk/champ spec), rhett hawke (two-handed berserk spec), alas lavellan (mage knight enchanter spec), romanced alistair/fenris/dorian respectively

shiv tabris (dual wield duelist/assassin spec), radella “rads” hawke (mage spirit healer spec), kat adaar (two-handed reaver spec), romanced morrigan/isabela/cassandra respectively because im a pc gamer and i think i should be able to date whatever video game woman i like because im infinitely better than cishet men

this world state said yeah i respect mens rights. mens rights to shut the fuck up

twins bronson (sword/shield reaver spec) & bryant cousland (archer ranger spec), carmine hawke (archer assassin spec), syracuse trevelyan (dual wield tempest spec), romanced zevran/anora/josephine/bull. if ur wondering how that works my city now and the warden, hawke and the inquisitor should all meet and so they do because i Said So

riva amell (mage arcane warrior/battlemage spec), graham “gray” hawke (mage force spec), hellathen “hela” lavellan (archer assassin spec); romanced cullen/anders and later blackwall because hawke only likes men who will break his heart. hela doesn’t have a romance because she’s literally 20. who let her lead the inquisition (me it was me). also it should be noted the version of cullen i have in my head only vaguely resembles actual cullen because i write better than dragon age writers ever could and i gave him an Actual Cohesive Narrative and he gets bullied relentlessly for being scrawnier than his mage boyfriend

malien “mal” surana (mage spirit healer/keeper spec), jules hawke (sword/shield reaver spec), ash adaar (mage rift spec), romanced leliana/merrill/krem because i should have been able to kiss krem and its a Crime that i am not allowed to

knight enchanter is a Very op specialization and by Very op i mean it makes a mage with their built-in low constitution stats able to solo the biggest baddest dragon in the game on nightmare mode in under five minutes so like. alas lavellan fist fights dragons for fun send tweet

i think lavellans should be able to hit ppl with bricks for all the shit they endure. thus solas gets pranked by mahariel and alas by which i mean they just tip buckets of water onto him from the rookery

kat might be my only competent inquisitor but she did also try to knock out the right hand of the divine and attempt to gap even tho there’s fucky magic burning up her hand so does she have a brain cell? you decide

also its fantasy land and i do what i want so kat has blue/gold sectoral heterochromia

gray “mage rights” hawke is best friends with fenris which surprises literally everyone. their friendship started because they got into a fist fight and then they were like okay i respect u now. hawke is like hey fenris give me ur sword i have a fun trick to show u [uses his sword as a foci to zap carver in the ass with lightning]

i am Always thinking abt like how cullen could have been one man anti-chantry propaganda machine if he hadn’t so blatantly been shoehorned into every game past origins so anyway bioware forgot about a wholeass moon i can write what i like. [holds up cullen by the scruff of his stupid armor] not only are you bisexual you are also a bottom

i also Hate the whole uwu mage haters get fixed by romancing a mage

unlocked secret dialogue option where my inquisitors verbally cuss out dorian’s dad instead of whatever sympathetic narrative the writers were going for cuz its bullshit.

riva is a showoff and a Menace about being as good as he is because he unabashedly loves being a mage and hes like oooh look at me im sexy i dont need to use my hands to cast magic because i’m just that good ;)) and you know what. hes right.

gray, on the other hand, does Not want to be mage. he wants to be a druffalo farmer and retire in the hinterlands and be left the fuck alone. unfortunately he is gay and has one brain cell and terrible, terrible taste in men. ribbed relentlessly for this by riva (altho does he have room to talk hes been hung up on cullen since he was like 13)

shiv is trans n kieran is the result of doing the dark ritual with her wife and he looks a Lot like shiv (dark skin pointed ears, shock-white hair) and morrigan always just Assumed she dyed it or did something magic with it so seeing their kid come out like that was a WEIRD time for her

leliana almost Murdered by cassandra in worldstate 5 because the warden is Actually There The Whole Time, but its been 10 years, mal’s cut off all her hair and gotten full facial tattoos and she’s like “no one will know its me its fine” and she’s right. she gets away with it. only cullen like, Knows, because he knew her before the blight but he doesnt have a death wish n he like. will Not piss her off

shes dalish by birth n she was stolen from her clan by templars and thus is vehemently anti-circle and anti-chantry in general

uhhh the vallaslin (elf face tattoos) of my 4 dalish characters are:

eira = ghilan’nain (chose em cuz shes rlly interested in the navigation aspect of the goddess)

alas = falon’din (god of the dead n he picked them because he’s Also the god of fortune and alas is like tee hee fun but also he can and will kill u if u fuck with him so yk its fitting)

hela = june (god of the craft bc she likes to Make things but june is also the god who taught the elves 2 hunt and hela is. a hunter.)

mal = elgar’nan (allfather/god of vengeance bc. she is Vengeful. she is Angry. but yk fucking with shem politics and fucking their divine is like. mal may have little a retribution. as a treat.) yes she has the full half-face solid colour tattoo she does NOT fuck around.

bronson and bryant r not genetically identical but they Look similar enough 2 anyone who doesn’t know them well enough 2 play spot the distance. anora and bronson think this is a super fun game to play, especially when nobles realize they’ve swapped out the king but they’re too nervous to say anything

eira mahariel has two hands. one is for holding hands with alistair and the other is for throttling elven gods, apparently. she’s killed one before so solas she’s coming for your bitch ass next. watch urself.

speaking of eira and alistair are married thru dalish tradition and humans don’t recognize it n alistair loves 2 re-propose to her with random things. he’ll just pick up like. a bit of cheese and be like “marry me ;)” and she’s like GASP but whatever will the chantry say!!!! all of their friends r sick of them

“vhenan if you love me bring me a sword” “you think i could do better than a sword made out of space rock?” “:)”

eira is my youngest hero at 18 at the start of her game and kat is my oldest at 32 at the start of her game.

none of my hawkes are under six foot. rhett is the tallest (6′8″) and rads is the shortest (6′2″).

syracuse trevelyan would have been the Perfect inquisitor if he were not a pretty boy himbo and a gay bastard who does Most Things just to spite his parents.

[corypheus pointing at syracuse’s visage in his crystal orb thingo] i want that twink obliterated

i love the companions from older games return thing i truly do so i make it a point for Every companion to return in inquisition so the gang rlly is all here because i am a Slutte for found family

i lie in my keep worldstates because i dont want to choose between hawke and alistair during here lies the abyss but i never make him king and every time i play inquisition and cole has the wicked grace line it makes me Scream. alistair baby im so sorry i did this to you but i didnt actually do this to you

yes this is my everyone lives au but like. all the time. i have never left hawke in the fade and i do not intend to.

fuck whatever nonsense about wardens not being able 2 have kids. by sheer divine power (me) anora and bryant have three daughters; eleanor, sabina & cecelia n both bronson and zevran make Excellent uncles because i think anora deserves good things because i’m tired of bioware being like women bad, actually,

so like most of the time i have the warden & hawke turning up after the move to skyhold n then staying on, with the exception of bryant, carmine & mal. mal is as mentioned previously just There the whole time with her girlfriend. bryant steps in as king of ferelden w/ interests in closing the big hole in the sky spewing demons in2 his kingdom yk. carmine shows up because she wants to help & she wants protection for bethany but she outright says she’d rather die than be inquisitor so cassandra is shit out of luck.

“CHANGE HER MIND VARRIC” “she once doubled down on insisting amaranth was a shade of blue because she didn’t want to admit to being wrong. no one’s changing her mind seeker”

alas is the middle child of eight and is thus very good with children and also bossing around people older than him. 2 of his older siblings come to the inquisition when stuff in wycome has been settled

i left ash with the basic canon background with Some variation (he grew up under the qun and left of his own free will when his magic was discovered n he realized he couldn’t take living as a saarebas

kat on the other hand was raised tal-vashoth and has bounced around basically all over thedas and leads her own merc company when the conclave blows up. she also speaks multiple languages. is there a language she doesn’t speak? probably not

just realized how long this got so im gonna like. stop my general rambling now but lmao yeah theres some basics. waves hands.

[crisontumblr]

Get yourself a snack and maybe a drink before you settle in for this one, kids, because I have got a long tale for you today.

I'm officially of the mind that, after the issue with Connor is resolved, Isolde takes a quiet moment to approach Alistair alone to sincerely, genuinely apologize for the way she treated him as a child. Not even to ask forgiveness; just to genuinely, humbly apologize.

From what Alistair tells the Warden, Isolde spent his entire childhood resenting him and making sure he felt unwelcome in what should have been his home.

"Anyway, the new arlessa resented the rumors which pegged me as [Eamon’s] bastard. They weren't true, but of course they existed. The arl didn't care, but she did. So I was packed to the nearest monastery at age ten. Just as well. The arlessa made sure the castle wasn't a home to me by that point. She despised me."

I don’t know about you guys, but I can conjure up a whole list of ways as to how Isolde might have treated him, just short of turning him into Connor’s whipping boy, to leave this sort of lasting impression on Alistair. (Eamon wasn’t that much better, and I’ve done a fair amount of yelling about him. However, I’m convinced Eamon has always operated under the belief that he’s doing what is genuinely best for Alistair.) Her feelings about him are the reason Eamon sends Alistair to train with the templars to begin with, in a bid to placate her.

Consider what a shock to her system it must be when Connor begins displaying signs of having magic. Isolde knows what happens to children like him, where they go; how his nobility means nothing to the Chantry outside of maybe some preferential treatment once inside the Circle. Imagine what it must feel like, realizing that she is going to have to send her son away, permanently, because of something he was born with and never asked for.

Thedas may not have the word “karma” in its vocabulary, but the concept is surely alive and well. At the very least, the parallel is impossible for Isolde to ignore. She certainly tries, though. Why else does she go to the lengths of hiring an apostate--a criminal in the eyes of the Chantry--to come teach Connor how to hide his gifts?

It fails, naturally, because Loghain strong-armed Jowan into poisoning the arl in such a way as to push Connor towards seeking a cure in magic--which only attracts the attention of a Desire Demon. (I really like that Desire Demons, despite being overtly sexy, don’t just focus on the lustful meaning of desire, but that’s for a different post.) All hell breaks loose.

The castle is overrun.  People die, get resurrected as monsters, kill more people, resurrect them as monsters...

Eventually it spills over into the village. People are killed, get revived as monsters, kill more people...

At this point, I would not blame Isolde for wondering if the Maker is punishing her for defying his will. Or maybe it’s not the Maker, but rather Andraste herself who is delivering this punishment! She was, after all, a mother both literally to several children and figuratively to those who worship her. Perhaps she has been taking stock of Isolde’s life choices and this is finally the thing that tips the cup over.

Isolde spends a lot of time praying. Bargaining. Pleading for help of any kind.

And then, as if in response to her prayers, help comes! They’ve already rescued the village and were on their way to the castle when Isolde was allowed to fetch Teagan. Who are these people?

Depending on how you gathered your party, another apostate, a Circle mage, a Qunari, a Chantry lay sister, an Antivan assassin (and an elf besides), a drunk dwarf, a living stone construct...and the last two Grey Wardens in Ferelden.

And one of those Grey Wardens is Alistair.

Irony is a word in the common vernacular of Thedas, and it is not lost on Isolde.

But the inescapable truth is that Isolde needs help and nobody else is rushing in to volunteer. Beggars can’t be choosers. If they can help her family, if they are the answer to Isolde’s prayers, then the least Isolde can do is tolerate his presence for as long as they’re useful, right?

(If there is some kind of divinely sent lesson for Isolde to learn within all of this misery, then she will do her best to learn it.)

Then the truth comes out about how she hired Jowan to help Connor hide his magic, how it led to the suffering in the castle and surrounding village. The consequences pile up. The choices for handling this are laid out before everyone and for a fleeting moment, Isolde faces the very real possibility of either losing her son permanently (in a different sense) or giving up her own life.

(And it’s somewhere around this point where, in Aeron’s timeline, Isolde finally actually learns that Alistair is Maric’s son instead of Eamon’s after Aeron catches them arguing--specifically, while Isolde is in the middle of saying something really mean--and steps in to defend him.)

But it doesn’t happen. By miraculous coincidence, Alistair and his newfound friends helped the Circle of Magi deal with an Abomination problem not too long ago; they even convinced the templars in charge to keep from killing everyone inside. Or, after hearing about a third possible option, maybe Alistair and his friends actually decide to make the harrowing trip from Redcliffe to the Circle tower, wherein they clear out the Abominations and prevent the templars from doing their ordained duty. Doesn’t matter. Point is, the mages more or less owe them a huge favor--and this situation with Connor is kind of huge.

It isn’t easy work, but they are determined to help. Alistair, the boy she despised and resented--on the basis of an untrue rumor, mind you--so badly that Arl Eamon sent him, is determined to help the arl and rescue her son. Her son!

It doesn’t happen right away, of course, but Isolde starts to see the sort of man he has become--kind, compassionate, courageous. She sees, too, the way he attempt to protect himself with jokes and wit. (Isolde is Orlesian, after all, and familiar with the art of the Game.) She starts to wonder how much sadness and sorrow is hidden underneath.

Then she starts to wonder how much of that is her own doing, and she finally finds the divinely sent lesson in the misery.

So Connor lives. Isolde lives. Arl Eamon is saved after Alistair and his friends retrieve the Sacred Ashes, so he gets to live, too. It’s a momentous occasion.

But Isolde does not let herself forget to whom goes the gratitude. More importantly, she knows what she actually needs to do. The problem is that it’s hard. It’s scary. (She figures that that’s part of the point.) How do you find the words? What do you say? How will he react?

Isolde decides it doesn’t matter how he reacts. She has to do it. And she does; on the day before he is to leave with his fellow Warden and their friends, Isolde calls Alistair aside and, after a patch of awkward silence (during which she takes a nervous breath), she apologizes. Fully, honestly, without any sense of expectation of forgiveness; she apologizes for those years that were so hard when they shouldn’t have been.

And Alistair...

In Aeron’s timeline, at least, it makes a difference. It means something. It doesn’t mean they’re immediately friends, but it opens a door that was locked shut before. And that’s good. That’s important.

[gaast]

my OCs: a primer

characters whose names are in bold are my bf’s

Shade: a gay ghost boy who’s been dead for over 200 years. haunts a mansion with Ein, a cute slimeboy. both are sex workers. Shade constantly changes his hair color, floats everywhere, never sleeps, constantly makes bad jokes, and is more sweet than he lets on.

Ovid: an anthro bellwether sheepie who is very proud of his wool. lives on a farm with his boyfriends, Buck and Nega. loves to read.

Buck: an anthro deer who used to be a slut who wandered everywhere who has since settled down on a farm with his boyfriends, Ovid and Nega. used to be terrified of humans but is overcoming his fear.

Raph: a professional model and former pro baseball player and massage therapist. a rowdy blond boy full of anxiety and pouts. has had a rough life, but he’s now happily married to his buff husband Cain.

Minor: a huge buff satyr-like goat demon with four arms. hates wearing shirts. has been alive for over 500 years. obsessed with music and a master musician, he performs solo as Slage Wave and (usually on guitar) in a band, Lesser Divinities, with Admin, Com, and Minami. a major slut, if he’s not making music he’s hooking up with someone or with his husband Ceres or with Ceres and a hookup at the same time or--

Admin: a garm who used to believe they were a prisoner of fate and needed to by a manipulative bastard and kill people to bring about Ragnarok or something, but has since reformed. can shapeshift into a garm or a humanoid form but now only stays humanoid (will sometimes shift their head). is the drummer of Lesser Divinities. a very anxious pacifist who’s learning about humans. loves punk rock. runs the “store” with bandmate and roommate Minami. in a queerplatonic relationship with her and her girlfriend Ulda.

Bull: queer ace stoner fashion designer who lives with his boyfriends, Com and Mint. grows the weed he smokes, also loves acid, E, and shrooms. has sworn off hard drugs. very well-known designer, most of the money he makes he donates to local charities and shelters for queer kids. anxious.

Com: a cute trans demon who loves bells and music. plays keyboards solo as Strange Cats and in Lesser Divinities. loves sports, weed, sports video games, cars--honestly, he’s a straight boy. but he’s also super gay. lives with his boyfriends Bull and Mint. a memer loser.

Deman: a demon who reaps souls. super quiet, though getting better. you can use “he,” “she,” or “they” for her, and you can even change what you call him mid-sentence. obsessed with cigarettes and smoking them. also obsessed with Vocaloid.

Gabe: a tall demon with long black hair who loves wearing nice suits. she’s a union lawyer, and a fearsome one. has two moms. is super gay and also happily married to her husband, who she bullies mercilessly, Lux. except she and he both say he’s her wife. terrifying if you cross her, a jokester if you don’t. an empath.

Rave: a very unstable young demon. his arms and thighs are covered in self-harm scars (but he hasn’t relapsed in a long while!). a sex worker, bartender, and worker-owner at local sex dungeon co-op Dis. dealing with a lot of trauma. a vegan and an anarchist. violent, he frequently kills rich people. starting to work on himself and slooooooooowly starting to get better. lives with Tear, for whom he’d gladly die.

Sleet (sleetd): a computer daemon given form. their development was never completed, so they’re a glitchy mess

Adze: a computer-only demon. intersex. runs a very popular camshow. used to be dating Bull, Com, and Mint, but he’s single now. a prankster and a horny weirdo. never takes things seriously. likes infecting himself with sexy computer viruses.

Gnash n Snap: a two-headed demon. they constantly bicker (each head uses he/him). they run a delivery service.

Quartz: does porn. aro homo (Shion is a noted exception to his homosexuality, which he likes). has done everything. a calm and level-headed dude, he never wears enough clothes. lives at the shrine with Shion and Zee and helps take care of it.

Zee: a zombie raised by Shion. remembers nothing from their life. the sweetest child, they will help literally anyone, but they will also eat bad people. moves slowly; their limbs fall off a lot. loves Shion and Quartz, loves decorating the shrine. some of the flesh on their face has rotted off, so they usually wear a cloth mask; they generally only let Shion see them without it, but they also take it off for Halloween. a slut.

Sweet: a chubby trans demon. burlesque dancer and sex worker at Dis. the “mom friend.” loves wine. loves having a good time. too elegant for this world.

Tarbh: a minotaur. freelance writer. wants to write fiction but he’s too useless and gay. bullied a lot by Vela. hasn’t been in a relationship for longer than three weeks but has been in a lot of relationships. accidentally acquires random traits from people he dates or hooks up with. a nice dude with a huge cock who deserves better than he gets. might date Jules briefly, idk

Vela: a moonlight demon. loves nighttime. can’t be in sunlight; carries a parasol. a nerd. smokes weed and does magic. she’s a bit of a bully to Tarbh but she calls him “big bro” and is working on being nicer to him. obsessed with cryptids and aliens.

Tempo: an anxiety demon. a librarian. exhales static and has poison blood. hates technology. it doesn’t even have a smart phone. reads a lot. too anxious to do much, but it loves its friends more than anything.

Jules: can’t speak. an engineer. hopeless with computers, but amazing with all other kinds of hardware. makes robots with Tear. incredibly cynical; will drop everything to help strangers. dresses for utility but wraps their upper body in loose bandage for style. tons of sharp fangs. proudly bi.

Illiel: an incredibly slutty angel. obsessed with muscles and getting Buff and Swole. founder of the co-op that runs Dis. Dis is their life, but also muscles are their life. similar pronoun situation as Deman.

Ulda: a young demon. kills dudes for fun. will make sure you know she’s a lesbian. loves her girlfriend Minami, who she lives with. she also lives with their qpp, Admin. does track and field and especially loves all forms of running. is usually exercising.

Alistair: a twink. sex worker and bartender at Dis. usually thinking about fish. loves fish more than anything. if he isn’t working, he’s fishing. somewhat awkward, but kind and insightful. might date Tempo.