#dragon age ships

[dorkofclanlavellan]

Hello! I was wondering if I could get a DC (batfam if possible), marvel (the Netflix shows if possible), dragon age and Supernatural matchup? My pronouns are she/her and I’m bisexual.

Personality: I originally come off as quiet, and aloof. It can seem standoffish but I don’t mean it too I just don’t trust very easily and am uncomfortable with strangers/new environments. I am my best when I am by myself or with my closest friends. With my closest friends I’m quite open, fun and talkative especially when talking abt things that interest me. Im quite the good listener as well when it comes to my more extroverted friends. Im also introverted, imaginative, creative, individualistic, reserved, structured and picky in my own way, all sprinkled with a little bit of sarcastic humor.

Hobbies: Digital Art is probably my biggest hobby. If I could I would spend all day at home with my trusty tablet and stylus drawing with an audiobook of my favorite novel/tv show running in the background. Apart from art I absolutely love working out. I kickbox and weight lift most days of the week. Lastly I love spending time at comic book stores and coffee shops.

Interests: I work in the digital media arts and love creative coding, interaction design, and computer graphics. I think my favorite thing is that combination between the artistic and the technological.

Love language: this one is definitely acts of service.

Hope that’s enough and thank you!

Of course! Sorry, it took longer than I'd planned. Me, being an absolute genius, saved it in drafts instead of the queue before going to bed and didn't notice until just now.

DC ~ Jason Todd. (Red Hood) Honestly, I think that after his death and after his stint as a killer, Jason would want to be with someone like you. Reserved and quiet and a good listener. He'd need someone he could turn to outside of a paid therapist. Just someone who's there when he needs them. And not just as emotional support. I personally think Jason's love language is a tie between Words of Affirmation and Acts of Service.

Marvel ~ Bucky Barnes. I think the two of you have very similar personalities. Bucky is definitely full of sarcastic humor. Like you he's only really open with the people he's closest to. So when you'd open up to him, he'd understand what that means and be very touched and honored. While Bucky may not understand everything about your hobbies and interests, he'd certainly love to learn. And he'd very much adore listening to you talking about them.

Dragon Age ~ Leliana. Due to being a bard/spymaster, Leliana would look forward to a partner who's more on the reserved side. And someone she could talk to and vent to. I believe Leliana's giving love language is Acts of Service so anything she thinks you might need her to do, she's going to do it.

Supernatural ~ Sam Winchester. Sam would know immediately that you were just reserved and uncomfortable around strangers from the moment you first met. He'd respect any boundaries and be patient for you to get comfortable around him. And when you did, he'd be touched. Sam would love to chat with you and listen to you talk about your interests and your hobbies. He'd see it as a very welcome and peaceful break from hunting and researching.

[niofo]

just rambling about my main worldstate ships.

shartan tabris (apostate, but functionally a warrior) + zevran + anders - perfectly balanced and functional team

marian hawke (warrior) + isabela + merrill - perfectly balanced and functional team

and then i have idris and rion, two disaster mages, just can't go right with this, and idris has only one hand so he can't grab someone tankier to add to that ship. literally a disaster, would die to a lvl 1 mob on their own

[st-enbious]

I didn't really think I could do an Iron Bull portrait justice.

But I can do some gay head canon pretty well 😏

[kittyoperas]

i just want to put these two in a room and see what happens

[miranita]

the cassarric brainrot is back so I’ve been trying to figure out how to draw them again

(sneaking some spicy art in there too 👀)

[bumblewarden]

I know some people have multiple worldstates or multiple wardens, so there is room for interpretation as to what counts as the canon LI, so just go with your gut

[wingedcorgi]

we party like it’s 2011!!

part of the birthday gift for @maria-tries 🤩

[panicfast]

my potential lords of fortune Rook ^_^ a father with permanent sun burn to match….

[arlathvhenan]

I know it’s pointless to try and win over the people who decided ten years ago that they hate Solas and he’s the worst despite never taking the time to actually *learn* about the character or understand why he believes what he does. Despite the theme of Dragon Age having always been good people resorting to horrific extremes for what they believe wholeheartedly to be a greater good, even at the expense of all that they once valued, because they truly believe there’s no other way. If you still hate Solas, if you absolutely *cannot* accept that there is good in him, then forget Solas entirely. Put him aside for now, and think about Varric, and what this whole journey means for him.

For all his wit, and cheeky humor, and roll with the punches attitude, Varric has suffered immensely in his life. This will be the third game we spend with him. The third time Varric is being asked to let the ugliness and brutality of the world poison and destroy what he holds dear. It destroyed his culture, his home, his family, and has taken so many of his dearest friends.

His father’s greed saw the Tethras family disgraced and cast out of Orzammar before he’d even been born. They found a new home in Kirkwall, the only home he’s ever known, and tried to rebuild, but the damage was done. Despair drove his mother to alcoholism, and so great was his brother’s desire to undo the damage his father had done, it ate him alive. Varric had to put his brother down like a sick dog with his own two hands. Then watched as ignorance and hatred ravaged his beloved city. And he watched again as his friend—a man he’d come to know for his gentleness and compassion—was driven to self destruction by despair.

But he kept living. Kept going in spite if it all. Then along comes Corypheus, and The Inquisition, and The Venatori. Varric has already been displaced and separated from the people he cares about. Even those who survived Kirkwall can’t be by his side because this sick and wounded world demands everything they have to keep it from falling further apart. But he finds a new home anyway, new friends, and that’s ultimately taken from him, too. If Hawke was left in The Fade, then he’s also had to watch his best friend of ten years become another victim of despair. Of the world’s demand for suffering and sacrifice.

Now here we are with Veilguard. Yet again, he must watch as someone he cares about is crushed under the weight of their own despair. Solas is doing what he’s doing for the same reason Anders did. Or Clarel. Or Logaine. Or so many others. Just like them, his actions are driven by a sense of despair.

I can’t imagine Varric doesn’t look at Solas and see every other person the world has taken from him. All the people he couldn’t save. All the death and failure that weighs on him, because he either couldn’t help them, didn’t know how, or just didn’t make it in time. Again, he’s been asked to just accept things as they are.

“People die. It’s what they do.”

This exchange was more than a grim and fatalistic quip from Solas. It’s Varric’s own words being thrown back at him. That is the very reality Varric himself once told Solas to accept. The man on the island lost everything and everyone, but so what? That’s life. That’s the world. People die and you can’t do anything about it. Except, he can’t do it this time. He can’t just sit back and let the world keep taking and taking. He’s reached the point where it’s just too much. Too much loss. Too many sacrifices. Too many good people eaten alive, spit out as monsters, and discarded as lost causes. This time, he can’t be content to sit in the sun. He’ll save the world AND save his friend.

No more passive acceptance. No more sacrifices. No more broken heroes.

That’s what this one means to him. Hate Solas all you want, but Varric’s not letting him go without a fight, and I feel like that should mean something.

[greypetrel]

"I don't understand, Chuckles, why is Sparkler scared of the outside and Pikachu isn't?" "A mistery for the ages." - but a year later

This has appeared in my notes again, and since I'm in an AU mood... I decided to finish it properly. Dorian survived the experience, but in this AU too he isn't the fondest of life outside. For unknown reasons, who wouldn't wish to have the Hawke kids treatment?

Please appreciate Varric, it took me ages to paint all that hair. Yes it could have been more but my patience ended.

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

I support feral girls and their slightly repressed feral mentors who enjoy naps

[anneapocalypse]

I just can't help feeling that Solas taking Lavellan's vallaslin and then leaving them is so cruel. I know he doesn't mean to be cruel. I know he doesn't even mean to do it like that; he wants to share the truth about himself, and he just can't, and it's that realization that pushes him to end the relationship, because of how close he comes to telling everything to this person he loves. I know that he loves Lavellan and wants to share just one piece of the truth, even if he can't share all of it.

He sees right away how much the revelation about the origins of the blood writing has hurt Lavellan. And if Lavellan pushes back on the idea of removing them, he drops it immediately. He never forces the issue.

But it's still such a sudden decision for Lavellan to make, after such a painful revelation. And what if they do end up regretting it? What's going to happen if they return to their clan, or try to make contact with another if Clan Lavellan has been lost? How will they begin to explain this to their fellow Dalish elves (keeping in mind that they don't yet know who Solas is)?

"I met a lone elven apostate, and it turns out he's a Dreamer, and he told me that one of our most sacred traditions is actually a mark of slavery. And I believed him. And I let him remove my vallaslin."

I think the decision might be easier for Lavellan whose clan is still alive and well, if they know they still have a home and a family to return to. For a Lavellan who has lost everything, their home, their family and friends, who has probably had to fight to maintain their identity and their beliefs in the Inquisition even if they've also made friends and found community--the choice is heartwrenching.

In taking the vallaslin, Solas takes from Lavellan the most obvious sign of Dalish identity, community, culture, and tradition. And then he breaks up with them. Lavellan can't even say "I've lost everything but at least I have you."

Every time I see gifs or videos of that scene, of Solas gently saying, "Ar lasa mala revas," literally I give you your freedom, it just breaks my heart, because I know he means it. I know he wants to give them that.

But what kind of freedom is it? And at what cost?

[mrgabel]

Have we read the same book?

Want to know what I've been up to lately? Well, here it is!! This is my entry for the digital Dragon Age Fanzine "Love Across Thedas" @loveacrossthedaszine which you can get HERE (for free! yaaaay! - and with so many awesome contributions!! Check it out definitely!)

This was one of the biggest pieces I finished this year and it was a drag but also so much fun to create. And, honestly, who agrees with me that this is my best Varric I ever drew? I love these games so much!

Happy Holidays, dear people! ☃️

[the-heartlines]

age gap rhaenicent feat. older jealous rhaenyra with her new young queen and stepmother

“Just because you are my father’s new wife, does not mean you’ll ever be my queen!” Rhaenyra cried, sounding young, insipid, jealous, tears pooling in her eyes. “Or my mother, Lady Hightower!”

The young girl, Lady Hightower, remained calm, staring at Rhaenyra with her big brown eyes, saying nothing.

She was too polite, too proper to speak to a princess as her new stepdaughter was speaking to the newest queen. 

It made Rhaenyra shudder with anger, with sheer sadness that her father had chosen someone more than a decade younger than her. 

Almost young enough to be her own daughter.

But Alicent Hightower was far more level headed than Rhaenyra, being her own father’s puppet on a string; one that the hand of the king successfully replaced with her dead mother, when her mother’s blood still stained the place where Alicent slept.

The thought made her skin prickle with rage, the dragoness awakening.

“I will never accept you as more than my father’s whore.” Rhaenyra spat, growling low in her throat, thinking about this pretty, pious girl spreading her legs for a man twice her age. 

Alicent’s pink lips parted as if she was going to speak, but then she closed them, flaring her nostrils instead.

Rhaenyra’s heart and veins were pulsating, roaring with a river of blood.

Good, let her be angry with me. I want her to know how much I despise her.

“What is it, stepmother? Do you have nothing to say to me? Spit it out.” Rhaenyra looked at the young girl’s plump lips again, wondering if her father made her cry, scream when he fucked her the first time, tearing through and taking her maidenhead for himself. 

She also wondered if those cries, the screams of pain, were now ones of pleasure. If her father’s new queen, her perfect  and pristine stepmother moaned like a wanton whore whenever he fucked her.

Rhaenyra pictured Alicent in the throws of passion, lust, pleasure, her lovely figure writhing on the bed. 

She would be so small, vulnerable, even below me.

The thought blinds Rhaenyra with want, desire and before she knows it she’s striding towards her new stepmother, crashing her lips to hers in a passionate kiss. 

Alicent finally utters a noise, a shocked gasp, one of delight, before she’s moaning into her stepdaughter’s mouth, already drunk after one taste.

Rhaenyra’s lips are brutal and demanding, her kiss frenzied as she wraps her arms around Alicent, pulling her small chest close to her heavy breasts. 

Rhaenyra has never kissed anyone so delicate, so soft, like this; with teeth and tongue, saliva and salty tears—pouring all her hurt, her grief, her suffering into the young queen’s mouth, letting her intense emotions empty down her throat. 

“Princess,” a sweet voice moans. low and so so prettily, but it snaps Rhaenyra back to reality, pulling away from her suddenly, and Alicent tries to follow, fall back upon her lips, back into her stepdaughter’s arms, but Rhaenyra keeps her once again at arm’s length, angry with herself.  

Angry with how she let this girl burrow her way into the very flesh, flesh that’s feverish and needy, wanton and desperate for affection, for touch.

She grips her fists around Alicent’s arms, pressing her now swollen, bitten lips together in a harsh line. Lips that mirror her stepmother’s that are even plusher, pinker, now that Rhaenyra has tasted them, tasted her.

“Princess?” The queen questions, worry outlining her wide eyes, blown almost obsidian brown.

Rhaenyra takes a deep breath in and out through her nose, because she can smell her cunt. 

How wet and ripe and sweet—earthy and woodsy, full of spice.

Alicent’s presence is all consuming, her scent too much for Rhaenyra to bear, so she loosens her grip around her stepmother and flees from her, running away, leaves her with her finger marks lingering, bruised into her young flesh.

Princess echoes behind her, louder, more hoarse this time, but Rhaenyra’s feet take her far from the hurt in Alicent’s voice, not  ready to face the feelings that threaten to open like a gaping wound. The emotions that pour from her like blood, because the Lady Hightower is like a dagger, digging into Rhaenyra’s flesh, slicing her soul open, to be naked, vulnerable. 

And around her new mother, her new queen, Rhaenyra feels the most vulnerable, the most naked. And most of all she longs to feel that way, craves it from the girl she so despises, who has stolen everything from her. 

The girl who she cannot hate, because Rhaenyra sees too much of herself in her, reflected in her pretty brown eyes.

[radiance1]

Pariah Dark. Ghost King. Master of War. Tyrant. The Breaker of Worlds.

Currently found himself... perplexed and at a loss.

He had assumed he would never be free once more, the one-time his punishment was cut short he wrote it off as the mistake it was. A pitiful fool who believed he could claim his crown from his prison without consequences.

The second time.

Well.

He would not have thought himself to be so lucky, assuming that no other would be foolish enough to free him once more.

He most likely should have learned not to assume a lot of things, when one is more than acquainted with the Master of Time. There was a lot he would do and did for the other before his eternal rest, and a lot of things he could've wrapped his mind around, found out the reason for, even so long as he had the clues no doubt left by Time.

But this.

This.

He was not exactly sure what his expression was, he could not even decide what exactly he was feeling, even. "Dearly belo-" Pariah Dark hid his mistake by clearing his throat. "Master of Time, what exactly do you intend for me to do with... these."

'These' referred to the small beasts currently amusing themselves on his body. A pitch-black chick with red eyes currently nesting in his hair, a snake trying to loop itself-and failing at looping- itself around his neck, a puppy currently resting on his arm and a cub currenting trying to get said puppy's attention only to be zapped away by the pup's foot.

Yes.

Zapped.

Despite this utterly befuddling situation, he was amused by it nonetheless.

"Your parole," The Master of Time said, all-knowing smile on his face. "Surely you would know what to do with children, would you not?"

Pariah Dark blinked. "What in the infinite is a parole?" Pariah tasted the word on his tongue, as if it was foreign to him. And, well. It was. "And what, exactly, would that have to do with children?"

The Master of Time's smile eased into faint amusement, as if aware of some joke the king himself was not.

Which happened more often than not, actually.

"Take good care of these children, and you shall be released from eternal sleep." He said, as if that explained everything. But Pariah Dark was staring at him in clear and undisguised puzzlement.

He then raised an eyebrow. "You would leave me alone with children? Truly? With no qualms?"

The personification of Time nodded, and Pariah could blink slowly, as if he had trouble wrapping his head around this. "Dearly beloved, surely you would not think that this-" If Clockwork noticed his slip of the tongue, then he didn't point it out as Pariah Dark continued. "Would be the best of ideas, no? Surely, you should be worrying for their safety."

Clockwork's eyes filled with mirth as he inclined his head slightly. "Well, do you currently hold any thoughts of harming these children?"

Pariah Dark's face gave away his faint confusion. "Not particularly, no."

"Then that is that." The ancient ghost nodded, as if everything was already decided and done as Pariah could only stare at him in unsurprised exasperation before shaking his head.

Perhaps, he should have expected this.

"The one currently making a nest of your hair goes by Vlad, the Pheonix King." Clockwork pointed his staff to the chick in question, who squinted open an eye before nestling further into the king's hair. He then pointed to the snake. "The one currently trying to strangle you, is Danny. Our prince as well as what humans would call an eastern dragon."

The way Clockwork pronounced our had Pariah feeling like it held another meaning and not just him being known as the prince.

Was there something he was not aware of...?

The staff then pointed to the pup dozing off in his arms. "That one," Clockwork said with faint amusement. "Goes by Dan, a fusion between the phoenix and dragon resulted in his creation and he soon became his own entity after becoming secluded from his timeline after its erasure." He said this casually, as if it weren't something that would cause questions. "He is also a Raiju."

How a bird and snake gave way to dog, Pariah does not know.

The staff then pointed to the last child in his arms, trying to bother Dan and being kicked away and zapped for its efforts. "That is Dani, formally Danielle. She is a Mishipeshu who is the only successful clone of the phoenix and dragon, making her our technical princess."

Again, the emphasis of our left Pariah feeling like there was something he should know. A missing piece to a puzzle he didn't even know he had started.

"You said this one was a king, correct?" Pariah asked, shifting around his arms to better support the pup and cub. "Would the phoenix's not take offense to me of all people being the one to raise their ruler?" As soon as the words left his tongue did he remember who exactly he was talking to.

He was met with a vicious smile, one that he did not see until the days of yore. His non-existent heart skipped a beat.

"Well, if they would like to voice their... displeasure." The Master of Time practically purred that sentence out, and Pariah felt something odd shift inside him. "Then they are surely allowed to do so."

Pariah grunted, silent for a few moments. Clockwork moved towards him in that time, and Pariah stood still, only tracking the ghost with his eyes. "I am quite certain you would make a wonderful father, dear-"

Excuse him, dear..?

"-So why not prove me right as you always have, hm?" Pariah Dark blinked, opening his mouth to speak before his mind screeched to a halt as he felt a pair of lips upon his own before they moved away in the next moment.

A ghost of a kiss.

"Now, run along now why don't you." Clockwork had a mischievous glint in his eyes, before Pariah found himself surrounded by a wide pasture, spanning as far as his eyes could see (and he could see very far) and at the end a forest with a house behind him.

But he could not react, even as he felt pecks upon his head, a bite at his ear and most surely the scratching of claws against his form.

His hair burst into green flames as he stood stalk still.

[lavellaned]

once again thinking about the last thing solas says to you is “I will never forget you”

once again thinking about how long of a time “never” really is to an immortal spirit-being