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rd0265667 · 1 year ago

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Seeun x Reader:Deadshot

A/N: this is an AU, so some parts of Seeun's debut and career are tweaked to make things a tad more realistic

Permanent Taglist: @cwpiqwon@justme-idle

The world was not what it seemed, with an underworld whose roots spread further than that of Yggdrasil. The criminal underworld was a treacherous one, but one that Seeun had no choice to adapt to, seeing as how she was picked up from the streets by them, a street urchin on the brink of death, resuscitated, and molded into a weapon, only to be granted freedom from under Yggdrasil once her "debt" was paid. Seeun was trained day and night, in a course that could only be summarised as the most efficient ways to incapacitate and kill someone, training in Martial arts like Sambo, Akido, Judo, Brazillian Jiu Jitsu, as well as Krav Maga. Not only that, Seeun was turned into a weapons expert, guns, Melee weapons, give Seeun a Number 2 Pencil and she'd drop bodies. With that, Seeun worked her way up the branches of Yggdrasil, becoming one of their top enforcers with deadly aim, earning her the moniker, Deadshot.

None of this was by choice of course, Seeun hated what she did. She valued human life, and while some of the people she put down were horrible people, people who deserved worse than a bullet to the head, not all of them were. Some were just in the wrong place in the wrong time, or offended the wrong person. Every time Seeun pulled a trigger, or snapped a neck, a little part of her soul died, only one thing kept her soul intact. You. Like her, you were dragged in from the streets, like her, an orphan, with no one who would miss you. Though you and Seeun were approximately the same age, you were found from the streets later than she was, making you less experienced than her. Seeing you struggle with the training as she once did, Seeun took you under her wing, helping train you, and to Seeun's surprise, gaining an unlikely friend, in the worst of places.

"I heard that Cain is sending us on a mission soon. Some crazy guy roided up with the wrong juice, makes him impervious to pain. It's gonna be tough." Seeun said as the two of you sparred, kali sticks in hand as you circled each other. "Sounds like fun." You smirked, suddenly changing your pace, catching Seeun off guard, knocking her onto the ground "Told you Sseni, You might be better with a gun, but I'm better at hand to hand combat." You chuckled, offering your hand to Seeun, helping her up as she rolled her eyes. "That was just luck, I'll kick your ass next time." Seeun said as she lightly shoved you, her head bolting to the left as the entrance to the training room opened, a messenger appearing. "Cain requires your presence in the main hall now." The two of you shared a smile, before nodding and following the messenger. "Deadshot, Hawke. I believe you've heard what this mission will entail, here's an official brief. Your target goes by the name Samson, and he operates out of a Warehouse by the docks. Locate him and take him. Alive. That is all." Never one to waste words, Cain swiftly briefed the two agents on the mission, the two nodding as they turned to leave. "Deadshot, stay, I have need of you." Seeun turned to Y/N, nodding to you as you left the room. "What." "As the person who trained you since we found you, I have grown a soft spot for you, so I give this advice to you. Whatever feelings you have for Y/N, lose it, kill it." Seeun wore a mask of indifference, but she was trying her best to hold together her slipping facade. Somewhere, sometime during a mission, or training, Seeun found herself falling in love with you. Your laugh, your smile, your way of holding her together, Seeun found her love in a life of death and pain, the silver lining in the sea of red. "I don't know what you're talking about." Seeun coldly replied, staring Cain dead in the eye as he chuckled. "Say whatever you want kid. I did you a favour, checked in with the Elders, this will be your last mission, then you're free. You won't be seeing Y/N anymore after this." Cain shot Seeun a small smile, Seeun recoiling in shock, but nodded. "Before you go, take it from someone who's been here far too long. For people like us, Love is like a bullet to the brain."

"Sseni, you feeling alright? You've been oddly silent this whole ride." You asked, your eyes not leaving the knife you twirled in your hand as you ran a cloth over it. "This is going to be my last mission." Seeun blurted out, unable to keep the secret to herself while her mind was deep in thought on her conversation with Cain. On the one hand, Seeun was glad to be done with this life, the killing, the missions, but on the other hand, Seeun would never see you again. Until the elders set you free, but who knows how long that would take? "Oh, that's great Sseun! You get to go live that life you've always wanted to!" You excitedly cheer, finally sheathing your knife, jumping towards Seeun and throwing her into a hug. "Yeh." Was all Seeun could mutter, because somewhere along the way, the life that Seeun wanted to live would not be one she wanted at all, if you weren't in it. "Deadshot, Hawke, 2 minutes out." The driver said, pounding on the wall between his seat and the two of you nodded, Seeun brandished her modified assault rifle and you primed your electric bites, hopping off the van, then getting to high ground, surveying the warehouse. Seeun flicked her infrared goggles down, surveying the warehouse. "Target is with 4 of his men, lightly armed, Hawke, head to Breach Point Alpha, then enter on my signal. Take down the men, then take on Samson, I'll cover you then join." You nodded, bolting to the other exposed window, waiting for Seeun's nod, then jumping in, shooting 2 electric bites at the men, stunning them while they convulsed, allowing you to easily knock them down, other two falling to the ground, Seeun's marksmanship showing itself. "I didn't expect Yggdrasil here so soon." Samson said with a smug smile. Jumping towards him, you shot a bite at him, but he chuckled shrugging it off. Redoubling your efforts, you charged at Samson, drop kicking him, then flicking a flechette at him, which stabbed him in the shoulder, but it seemed to have no effect on him. "Didn't your beloved elders brief you, I don't feel pain anymore, and he who doesn't feel pain, can't be beat." He proclaimed with his arms out, before bum rushing you, his speed astonished you as you only barely got out of his way, his shoulder grazing you and sending you back a few feet. Brushing it off, you charged at Samson, engaging in a fierce duel as you dodged, parried and weaved, trying to find a weak spot, but none presented itself, and you soon found yourself on the ground. "Deadshot, I can't get a hit on this guy, he just keeps getting up." You shouted into the comms "Hold him down, I need a clean shot." Seeun said, you followed her as you saw the glare from her scope "Negative Deadshot, we need him alive." "Hold him down Hawke, trust me." Nodding, you lunged at Samson once again, but instead of going for his body, you went for his joints, grappling around him, eventually holding him in a lock. Holding Samson in place, you saw 4 quick flashes, seeing Samson's limbs light up, blood splattering, and you suddenly felt less resistance. Letting go of Samson, his body dropped to the ground, struggling but unable to get up. "What did you do?" You asked in the comms, Seeun grappling down to you. "Just because he can't feel his tendons being torn, doesn't mean he doesn't need them. Let's get him to the van Hawke." Seeun smirked, helping you as you restrained Samson, depositing him in the van

The day went by in a blur. After taking Samson down, you delivered him to the elders, then helped Seeun pack. It was a tearful goodbye to say the least, in her time in Yggdrasil, in her time of knowing you, Seeun always wanted so badly to tell you how she felt. Seeun's heartbeat wouldn't quicken when entering a room full of deathtraps, but it would do somersaults when she looked at you. As the two of you sat in her room, she wanted so very much to tell you everything, how she felt about you. "Sseni, you okay? You look constipated. It's actually kinda funny." You giggled as you looked as Seeun's face, Seeun rolling her eyes as she motioned for you to sit beside her. "I need to tell you something Y/N." Seeun said, putting her hand on your shoulder. You hummed, sitting next to her and laying on her shoulder, which did not help Seeun. "Umm, so I wanted to tell you, that we've known each other for so long, and I think we've spent alot of time together, and we're close, an-" Seeun tried to talk, but she choked on every word she tried, and you giggled at her antics "Calm down Sseni, breathe." You put your hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down, though it backfired in a spectacular fashion. This was it, Seeun knew she wouldn't be able to do it if she tried to do it slowly. "I think I'm in love with you." Seeun quickly blurted out, and you tensed up on her shoulder You slowly got up from her, turning to her with a serious look on your face, a face Seeun had only seen when the two of you were on missions. "I guess I knew." You whispered. On a certain level, you always knew. It was in your training to know what was happening everywhere around you, so it was hard to miss Seeun's glances when she would stare at you when you trained, or her shortened breaths when you leaned on her shoulder. "I'm sorry Sseni, but I don't think I can do this." You whispered. "Does that mean you don't feel the same way?" Seeun closed her eyes, turning away, not willing to bear what came next. "No, it doesn't mean that, but...I can't do it while I'm still in this...place. Once I'm free, we'll have this conversation alright?" You turned, leaving a light kiss on her forehead. "I'll wait for you." Seeun whispered as you left the room "See you soon Sseni."

As Seeun left Yggdrasil, she was stopped by Cain, who pulled Seeun aside. "The elders would like to thank you for your service all these years. You have been one of our finest agents since Penumbra. And for that, they've allowed me to extend you a courtesy." Cain handed Seeun a phone, and on it she saw one contact. Cain's "I know you're stubborn, you and Hawke will most likely not let this go. I'll keep you posted on Hawke. Now go, live a life, a good one. Good luck kid." Seeun nodded, thanking Cain before heading out of the base.

"Thank you so much!" Seeun excitedly replied, before hanging up and squealing, excited to hear that her application into High Up Entertainment was excited. As she was lying down on her bed, excited about finally being able to be an idol, a career she had always been interested in, her burner chimed. "Hawke's been doing well, she's risen to the top of Yggdrasil. She should be out soon." Things couldn't get better, Seeun was ecstatic as not only was she achieving a sense of normalcy, you were going to be free soon, and the two of you could live together, the plan was perfect.

"Seeun, how are you not exhausted?" Isa exclaimed as Seeun shrugged, chuckling as Isa nudged her on the shoulder, other trainees looking at Seeun in shock, murmuring and questioning how she was not tired after hours on hours of practice and training. "Seeun-unnie, your special phone rang!" Yoon exclaimed as she ran to Seeun, phone in hand. "Thank you Ja Yun." Seeun excitedly jumped up, opening the messages "There's chatter amongst the elders of an upcoming mission being Hawke's last, data retrieval then assassination of Kim Chaewon." Seeun was conflicted. On the one hand, she knew who Kim Chaewon was. She was a Chaebol, but worked for the good of the people. She was a philanthropist, who took care of the poor, and to assassinate her, it would be a crime, a sin. But on the other hand, this meant she could be with Y/N. Finally, after 2 years of waiting. She could hardly wait

"Okay girls, great work today, have a good rest, the company should be sending someone over to pick us up." Sumin talked to the girls, pulling Yeeun in as the exhausted girl leaned on the leader. Seeun tossed a bottle of water to Sieun, chuckling as she watched her chug the entire bottle. Resting on her chair, Seeun's phone chimed, could it finally be time? "Hawke's been stalling her mission. The elders suspect foul play, or a change of heart. For both your sakes, I hope that Hawke completes her mission with haste." Seeun gripped the phone tightly, wishing from the bottom of her heart that the elders were wrong. From the back of her pocket, Seeun took out a picture, one she had taken after sending a PI after Chaewon. "Woah, who's that!" Isa exclaimed as she rushed to Seeun's side. "Just someone I know." Seeun answered, eyes trained on the picture "She's cute." Isa commented, raising her hands up in surrender when Seeun shot her a dirty look. "You're not wrong." Seeun chuckled, looking forlornly at the picture in her hand. "Why haven't you asked her out yet?" Isa teased, nudging Seeun on the shoulder, a sense of sadness washing over Seeun. "There's certain restrictions for now, but soon, I'll ask her out soon. Don't you worry about it Chae." "You've got to introduce us, alright?" Isa asked, small smile on her face, happy to know her friend had someone special. "Of course."

"I need to go, now!" Seeun shouted, her eyes locked on her phone in fear as she called for Sumin. "Unnie, I need to leave, it's an emergency." "Wha- Seeun, we have a performance soon, the manager won't let you leave." Sumin looked at Seeun in confusion, partly worried about what had her friend so spooked "Please." Seeun pleaded, and Sumin finally relented. Seeun nodded, sprinting out of the room as she headed back to headquarters, running into her old mentor and handler. "Deadshot, you can't be here." Cain warned, knowing what Seeun had come back for. "I need to talk to the elders, please." Seeun pleaded with Cain, panic bubbling in her chest. "Seeun, are you sure you want to do this. The elders aren't people you want to owe." Cain warned, unwilling to see someone he had grown to care for throw herself into such a dangerous situation. "Please, Cain." Seeun asked once again. After deep thought, Cain nodded, making a call on his phone, then leading Seeun down the hallway. Seeun entered the room to see 4 people, sat behind a table as they stared her down. "Elders, I'm here to plead for leniency for Hawke." Seeun said, bowing down at the 4 figures. "Hawke has betrayed us, and forsaken her mission because she fell in love with her target. She has put Yggdrasil at risk, she must be put down." One of the figures spoke, causing Seeun to panic. "There has to be a way to pardon her. Both Hawke and I have done so much for Yggdrasil." "You have, but that does not change the fact that insubordination must be punished." In her desperation, Seeun proposed a compromise. "I'll do it! I'll finish Hawke's mission, then we'll leave, Yggdrasil will not be in danger. I'm one of the best agents in the history of Yggdrasil, putting me on this mission is as close to a surefire as you're gonna get." Hearing this proposal, the first elder raised an eyebrow, seemingly intrigued by the propostion. "You got out Deadshot. You have a life now, as a celebrity I believe. Doing this will jeopardise your life. Do you understand the risks?" The elder questioned, Seeun nodding. She'd do anything to get Y/N out of danger. The 4 elders looked to each other, murmuring and discussing, before finally nodding. "The elders accept your proposal, Hawke will be spared and released, contingent on the elimination of Kim Chaewon." "Thank you."

"Ms Kim will be making a public appearance in 2 days. Be warned though, Hawke knows that the company will not cease in their assault on Ms Kim, and she knows how our agents operate, so there will be tons of security. Good luck Deadshot." Cain gave a quick brief, rolling a map across the table and leaving Seeun a key. Grabbing the key, Seeun turned, opening the drawers behind her, retrieving her modified assault rifle, the weapon of her torment, but just one more time. This was all just for one more time. "This is going to be a mistake. Do you really think Hawke will go with you after you kill her lover in cold blood?" Cain questioned, looking at Seeun in pity. "I have to, I'm doing this to keep her alive." Seeun whispered.

The sickening crunch and crack of bones filled the empty room, the body of security hired to protect the event Chaewon was hosting collided with the wall, then collapsing onto the ground. Seeun quickly found a perch offering her an eyeline to the podium, setting up her rifle bipod, proning to get a good eyeline on Chaewon. After minutes of waiting, Chaewon finally emerged from the building, shadowed by you as you looked around carefully. Seeing you, Seeun froze. She hadn't seen you in 3 years, and you hadn't changed one bit. You still looked every bit as radiant as the day Seeun left. Seeun quickly shook it off, refocusing as she scoped in onto Chaewon. Seeun took a deep breath, her scope trained onto Chaewon, then pulled the trigger.

The world came crashing down around her, widespread panic ensued, as medics crowded around the fallen body, cries of despair filling the area, and Seeun fell back in shock. How did this happen? No. No. No. This was not supposed to happen. You weren't supposed to see the glare, you weren't supposed to know someone else had a sniper to Chaewon. You weren't supposed to be fast enough. You saw the glare, and immediately recognised what it was, charging at Chaewon to get her down, and out of the sniper's view. But it all happened too late. Chaewon was safe, but on top of her, laid your limp body, blood spurting from your neck as Chaewon screamed. From her rooftop, Seeun fell back in shock, panic and despair filling her body as she stared at her mess, the consequences of her actions dawning upon her, your lifeless body being the only thing Seeun could see, letting out a scream of pure agony. Seeun then felt a searing pain in her abdomen, her scream alerting other members of security to her position, and they swiftly took her down. But Seeun didn't care. What was the point of life if you weren't in hers? Seeun didn't want to live without you. As she laid on the rooftop, breathing laboured and raggedy, she realised that Cain was right. About you, and about her.

For people like you and Seeun, Love was like a bullet to the brain

#angst #rd0265667 #seeun #seeun x reader #yoon seeun x reader #stayc x reader #stayc seeun #seeun fanfic #yoon seeun fanfic #stayc yoon seeun fanfic #stayc fanfic

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countdowntotwinpeaks · 1 year ago

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WONDERFULXSTRANGE NOMINATIONS SUMMARY

Nominations make up the pool of all the characters and character combos that will be offerable and requestable for the 2024 edition of the exchange. Cast list too big for TP gotdamn feet so we need this step for wieldy signups.

To nominate, fill this form with your selection of up to 8 characters or character combos. Up to 2 of your nominations can be crossovers that include Twin Peaks characters. Tulpas and assorted fragments are nominated separately. Rules, formatting and examples in link.

This page is updated with the results throughout the nominations days.

Entries are grouped by solo characters / groups / non-romantic relationships / romantic relationships / crossovers

2024 LIST:

Dale Cooper

Laura Palmer

Chester Desmond

Diane Evans

Denise Bryson

Hawk

Norma Jennings

Annie Blackburn

Harold Smith

Josie Packard

Albert Rosenfield

Sarah Palmer

Ronette Pulaski

Shelly Johnson

The Log

The thrush

Constance Talbot

Tammy Preston

The Blue Rose task force

Laura Palmer & Dale Cooper

Tammy Preston & Denise Bryson

Audrey Horne & Laura Palmer

Dale Cooper & Audrey Horne

Gordon Cole & Albert Rosenfield

Laura Palmer & Maddie Ferguson

Major Briggs&Bobby Briggs

ShellyJohnson&Becky McCauley Briggs

Diane Shapiro & Diane Evans

Sarah Palmer & Becky Burnett

Dale Cooper & Harry Truman

Audrey Horne & Denise Bryson

Annie Blackburn & Laura Palmer

Albert Rosenfield & Diane Evans

Garland Briggs & Douglas Milford

Donna Hayward & Harold Smith

Laura Palmer & Sarah Palmer

Tommy 'Hawk' Hill & Margaret Lanterman

Audrey Horne & Bobby Briggs

Audrey Horne & Pete Martell

Laura Palmer & Teresa Banks

Laura Palmer & Norma Jennings

Norma Jennings & Annie Blackburn

Audrey Horne & Laura Palmer

Margaret Lanterman & The Log

Laura Palmer & Bobby Briggs

Albert Rosenfield & Dale Cooper

Dale Cooper & Diane Evans

Lucy Moran & Phillip Jeffries

Diane Evans & Laura Palmer

Lil the Dancer & Audrey Horne

American Girl & Señorita Dido

Wally Brando & Harry Truman

Harry Truman & Frank Truman

Señorita Dido & Dale Cooper & Laura Palmer

Laura Palmer & Donna Hayward & James Hurley & Audrey Horne & Bobby Briggs

Harry Truman & Wally Brando & Lucy Moran & Andy Brennan

Laura Palmer & Donna Hayward & Shelly Johnson & Ronette Pulaski

Becky Burnett & Shelly Johnson & Bobby Briggs

Laura Palmer & Teresa Banks & Ronette Pulaski

Donna Hayward & Gersten Hayward & Harriet Hayward

Albert Rosenfield & Dale Cooper & Harry Truman

Bobby Briggs & the Bookhouse Boys

Blue Rose Team & Constance Talbot

the Roadhouse MC & Black Lodge spirits

Laura Palmer/Donna Hayward

Denise Bryson/Dale Cooper

Albert Rosenfield/Dale Cooper

Bobby Briggs/Audrey Horne

Bobby Briggs/Shelly Johnson

Bobby Briggs/Laura Palmer

Janey-E Jones/Dougie Jones

Diane Shapiro/Tommy "Hawk" Hill

Dale Cooper/Harry Truman

Harry Truman/Albert Rosenfield

Maddie Ferguson/Donna Hayward

Chantal Hutchens/Gary "Hutch" Hutchens

Laura Palmer/Donna Hayward

Laura Palmer/Ronette Pulaski

Shelly Johnson/Laura Palmer

Annie Blackburn/Laura Palmer

Margaret Lanterman/Samson Lanterman

Tammy Preston/Cynthia Knox

Dale Cooper/Albert Rosenfield/Harry Truman

Albert Rosenfield/Dale Cooper/Diane Evans

Harry Truman/Dale Cooper/Josie Packard

Josie Packard & Harry Truman/Dale Cooper

Laura Palmer/Ronette Pulaski & Teresa Banks

Albert Rosenfield & Herbert West (Re-Animator)

Laura Palmer & Jeffrey Beaumont (Blue Velvet)

Dale Cooper & Fox Mulder (The X-Files)/Dana Scully (The X-Files)

Diane Evans & Klaasje Amandou (Disco Elysium)

Dale Cooper & Harry Du Bois (Disco Elysium)

Wally Brando & Noid (Disco Elysium)

If you see any duplicates please let me know!

#mod post #over here and not on a blog page for the sake of mobile viewing and also my own mobile editing

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nirikeehan · 1 year ago

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first lines

rules: share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able to and see if there are any patterns!

I got tagged by @rowanisawriter! Thank you for the tag, this is always a delight to do.

IDK if recently updated fics technically count but I'mma do it anyway bc I am lazy.

Upon reviewing them: I really love starting out with a setting detail. I'm gonna blame Inquisition for being fucking gorgeous for that one. Also I am impressed only two start out with dialogue – so often that has been my go-to way to start a scene lol. I am most impressed with the lines that put you right into the action... I should maybe work on doing that more.

Tagging, if interested: @theluckywizard | @oxygenforthewicked | @exalted-dawn-drabbles | @melisusthewee | @bluewren

---

These are all Dragon Age btw, the brainrot that keeps on going since 2020

Kingdom Come; Thalia x Thom Rainier

He has imagined her return a thousand times and a thousand times more.

2. Two Songs; Truth, Sadness, Sacrifice; Cullen & Samson

“Staring at the cards all night won’t change ‘em, kid,” Samson said.

3. World-Weary Assholes; Garrett Hawke & Thalia

“Where did that damned Inquisitor go?” Hawke asked Varric.

4. The Wingman at Griffon Wing; Rylen & Thalia

The blazing sun hung low on the horizon, washing the forbidding landscape in hues of blood red.

5. The Greater Good; Cullen & Samson

Cullen stood in the Gallows courtyard, sweating into his armor.

6. Desert, Dragon, Soldier, Spy; Rylen x non-Inquisitor OC (exchange fic)

His first impression of her is a flash of white in a sea of orange.

7. But Never a Key; Cullen x Thalia, Cullen & Pravin

The Hinterlands were ablaze with autumn color.

8. An Unquenchable Flame; Cullen x Thalia, Cullen & Pravin

The wind howls through the night.

9. Things my heart used to know (things it yearns to remember); Cullen x Neria Surana Lavellan (exchange fic)

The argument in Josephine’s office was significant, from the sound of it.

10. Through a Glass, Darkly; Cullen x Thalia, Samson x Thalia

The sky hung low like a threat.

#first lines game #writing nonsense

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whereismywarden · 1 month ago

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Fanfic Masterpost (2024 Edition)

As I'm slowly getting back into writing, I thought it would be a good idea to make a new, up-to-date masterpost for my fics.

I've sorted them into series to make things easier, and each series is listed under its canon worldstate. (Well, I use "canon" loosely since I write a lot of canon-divergent crap, but you know what I mean.)

[Last Update: 08/12/2024]

Sad Mages Worldstate

Warden Loris Surana (🏳️‍⚧️♂️), Alwyn Hawke (♂️), Inquisitor Violette Surana (♀️)

Circle Mages - Daylen Amell & Surana's lives before the Blight

⚠️ Surana was written and is depicted pre-transition.

💕 Amell x Surana.

✨ Also canon in the Second Chances Worldstate (see below).

Warden Surana during and after the Blight

⚠️ Surana was written and is depicted pre-transition.

💕 Alistair x Surana; Carver x Surana.

💀 Alistair made the ultimate sacrifice.

Alwyn Hawke

💕 Anders x Hawke, Rylen x Hawke.

Inquisitor Violette Surana

💕 Orsino x Violette; Samson x Violette.

✨ Violette is Loris' mother (as the name suggests), but also Cullen's (not yet depicted in fics but will be eventually).

✨ Idk if I'll ever write about their time together but I'm also planning to have her romance Solas (post-breakup fics are more likely, however).

✨ Also canon in the Second Chances Worldstate (see below).

Second Chances Worldstate

Warden Daylen Amell (♂️), Alwyn Hawke (♂️), Inquisitor Violette Surana (♀️)

One for the Road

💕 Alistair x non-Warden Loris Surana; past Amell x Surana; past Carver x Surana; background Amell x Morrigan.

💀 Alistair became a drunk, and Loghain made the ultimate sacrifice.

💀 Carver died in the Deep Roads.

✨ Ongoing longfic.

Also canon in this worldstate: Circle Mages series & Inquisitor Violette Surana series.

Homecoming Worldstate

Warden Elaine Cousland (🏳️‍⚧️♀️), Violetta Hawke (♀️), Inquisitor Violette Surana (♀️), Rook Loris de Riva (🏳️‍⚧️♂️)

Lady Elaine Cousland's life before the Blight

💕 Nathaniel x Cousland.

✨ This series can be considered canon across all worldstates.

✨ Elle will also be paired with Sebastian (both pre and post-Blight) and Leliana (during the Blight).

Violetta Hawke

✨ Letta is paired with Isabela (which only comes up in passing so far) and Merrill (which hasn't come up yet).

Loris de Riva

💕 Rook x Harding

Lovers in the Dark Worldstate

Warden Kalian Tabris (♀️), Inquisitor Asaara Adaar (♀️)

Warden Kalian Tabris

💕 Alistair x Tabris.

✨ King Alistair with Mistress Tabris.

The Adaar Sisters

💕 Cullen x Asaara Adaar; Varric x Issala Adaar.

Other Fanfics

Warden Shaelyn Mahariel

💕 Bethany x Mahariel.

Old/Non-canon fics featuring my OCs

💕 Alistair x Surana; Carver x Surana.

Misc. Works

💕 Cassandra x Hawke; Alistair x Zevran x Tabris; Teagan x Cousland; Alistair x Aeducan; Cullen x Surana.

✨ Most of these are works that were created as part of exchanges or other fandom events.

#dragon age #my fics #fanfic masterpost

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pikapeppa · 4 years ago

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WIP/Six Sentence Sunday

afkgjhl it warms my hort to see so many of you guys active today!!! 😍❤ Tagged by @elveny @ashalle-art @johaeryslavellan @solas-disapproves @crackinglamb @in-arlathan @faerieavalon @musetta3!

I have a couple things I can share this week. First, some Athera/Abelas fluff from Inadvisable (modern university AU with the Ancient Elvhen Boyband):

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Abelas {harrumph}ed. “I don’t understand this universal preference for texting among your generation.”

Athera blurted a laugh. Her generation! He made himself sound so old!

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Texting takes more time than talking on the phone,” he complained. “And it requires you to use both hands. It is far less efficient than talking.”

**************************************

I mean, he’s not wrong, but THAT’S NOT THE POINT, GRANDPAPPY ABBY.

And some fluff from a little upcoming Roman Hawke/Samson for my beloved @schoute:

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Roman was lounging on the couch in front of the fire. Her music stand in the corner had some sheet music open, however, and her violin case was open on the floor.

Samson quirked an eyebrows as he approached the couch. “Playing your fiddle, were you?”

“No,” she muttered.

He chuckled. “Don’t stop on my account. You should play somethin’ for me.” He patted her leg, and she curled her legs up so he could sit down beside her.

“Not a fucking chance,” she said flatly. “I’m not a performing monkey.”

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Such a bundle of sweetness and light, she is. 😂😂❤❤

Tagging back to all the lovelies who tagged me, and sending it forward to @charlatron @mythicaitt @pushingsian @hollyand-writes @mrscullensrutherford @serial-chillr @queen-kass-the-writer @thevikingwoman @galadrieljones @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold @lostinfantasies38 @fandomn00blr @hobo-apostate and anyone else who wants to participate!

#fanfic writer's life #tag meme #abelas #abelas/lavellan #abelas x lavellan #abellan #inadvisable #samson #raleigh samson #samson da2 #romanson #samson/hawke #samson x hawke #pikapeppa writes

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charlatron · 4 years ago

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Willful Avoidance

Roman Hawke x Raleigh Samson

Not thank you to @schoute for sending me to rare-pair hell!

After reading [a series of one-shots] by @schoute & @pikapeppa featuring Scouty’s mysterious blood mage Roman Hawke and the once undesirable Raleigh Samson, I was immediately inspired to take the rare-pair out for a test drive (with Schoute’s permission of course).

1K of smut below the cut, or read it on [AO3]

Warning: NSFW!

“Stop looking at me,” Roman glowered at the ex-templar beneath her, nostrils flaring as she exhaled in annoyance.

So what if she had shown up at his dank hovel of a home when he was sleeping, somewhat rudely waking him with her noisy undressing before climbing into bed with him - still didn’t give him any right to look at her like that.

Samson huffed, speaking in that same gravely tone that made everything he said sound so unnecessarily brooding. “Where would you prefer I look?”

“I don’t care, just stop fucking staring.” She placed a weighted palm on his cheek when he turned away, pressing one side of his face into the lumpy mattress so he couldn’t try to look at her again. Which he definitely would have; infuriating shit that he was.

Sweat dripped down her spine as she bounced vigorously on his cock, the nails of her free hand gauging painful crescents into his chest. Roman closed her eyes, ignoring Samson’s hiss of discomfort as it predictably morphed into a groan of sadistic pleasure and instead focusing on the mind-altering delirium that came from these increasingly frequent encounters.

Stop overanalysing and just fucking fuck him she mentally berated herself when that obnoxious voice popped into her head again, taunting her with whispers of feelings and other such distasteful profanities.

She shook the unwelcome thoughts from her mind, decidedly abandoning her up and down undulations in favour of grinding up against him as she welcomed the pleasurable pain of his far-reaching cock. She loudly moaned when he tilted his pelvis, seating himself just that little bit deeper and finally her mind quieted.

Samson groaned in that throaty timbre that never failed to fan the flames of her desires, renewing her sense of purpose as she rode him mercilessly towards her peak. “Yes, yes, fuck!” She threw her head back and blasphemed to the heavens, the proficient roll of her hips devolving into stuttering shudders as she luxuriated in that depressingly fleeting sensation that so exquisitely tuned out the rest of the world.

She was in a state of blind euphoria as Samson flipped her on to her back, every nerve ending in her body singing a blissful tale of rapture as he hilted himself once more. Her petite breasts bounced wildly with the force of his thrusts, the unexpected scrape of his teeth on her nipple the thing that finally roused her back to consciousness.

The fucker was staring again, the weight of his all too familiar gaze a wholly unwelcome assault on her senses. More often than she cared to admit of late, whenever those haunting eyes locked on to her own she began to question the truth of this peculiar arrangement of theirs. Why she didn’t just use some random stranger to sate her desires instead of encouraging this… whatever it was. But since she had less than no desire to unravel that particular thread, she was happy to champion the willful avoidance method.

“Move.” Roman pushed on Samson’s chest until he sat back on his heels, quickly repositioning herself on her hands and knees so she didn’t have to acknowledge that unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach that accompanied his scrutinizing gaze; as though her unwelcome thoughts were an open and somewhat amusing book to him.

She cried out in surprise when he spanked her, the force of it no doubt leaving an angry red welt on her right buttcheek. “Mother fu - ahh!” she cried out again when he slammed his cock into her, hands fisting in his threadbare sheets as she tried to hold herself steady.

Samson spanked her again, and again, and again until she had to bite down on her own arm to deny him the satisfaction of hearing her whimper. He pawed at her backside, kneading and squeezing the flesh as he sought his own release. His grip on her hips was insistent, fingers biting painfully into her sensitive skin as he pulled her to meet each hard thrust with a resounding slap of flesh on flesh until she fell forwards onto her chest, spine arching dramatically as she eagerly angled herself for deeper penetration.

Roman slipped a hand between her thighs, slender fingers tending to that libidinous quiver that heralded a second coming as Samson’s hips hammered forcefully against her rear. She sped up when his rhythm began to falter, victoriously reaching her end with just seconds to spare before he pulled out and emptied his load on to the still burning skin of her abused derriere.

Samson fell on to his back beside her, draping an arm over his face as he attempted to catch his breath. His sweat-slicked chest glistened in the moonlight, the skin over his ribcage pulling taught with each deep breath. Clearly he was undernourished, no doubt choosing his precious dust over food if ever he couldn’t afford both. Should she try to slip him more coin? Was there a way to do so without making him think she cared? Chances were he’d simply blow it all on his addiction anyway.

Roman sat up straight, not at all discreetly wiping the now cold evidence of their frenzied coupling on his sheets. She reflexively flinched away from the featherlight brush of his fingertips against her shoulder blade, immediately vacating his uncomfortable bed to dress in strained silence.

She stubbornly ignored the urge to look back at him, pulling open what barely passed as a front door before she’d even managed to get both arms in her sleeves, praying to whatever god might be listening that she be fast enough to outrun Samson’s almost guaranteed snark.

Of course, she wasn’t.

“What, no goodbye kiss?” he mocked, sounding far too pleased with himself.

Smug fucking cunt she thought, casting him a scathing glance over her shoulder to find him comfortably reclining on one elbow. The sheets barely covered his softening cock and she had to dig her fingernails into her palms to repress that split second yearning for something… more.

“Oh, fuck off,” she cantankerously rebuffed, further splintering his already fractured door as she slammed it shut behind her.

#roman hawke #raleigh samson #why schoute why did you do this to me?#hawke x samson #thank you so much for letting me play with your OC!

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space-dingo · 6 years ago

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Here's a commission I finished for someone on discord. It's their Hawke and Samson.

#dragon age #Dragon Age II #Dragon Age 2 #Hawke #Male Hawke #Mage Hawke #Raleigh Samson #Samson #original character #dragon age oc #art commissions #commissions #commission art #my art #digital art #paint tool sai #hawke x samson #artist on tumblr

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elenachatnoir · 7 years ago

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Samson and Chevy Hawke sharing a sweet moment at Weishaupt, commissioned by @life-is-no-sugarlicking, thanks a lot! ♥

#samson #male hawke #chevy hawke #hawke x samson #shaded #art commission #i do really like this pair #thanks a lot for commissioning me!

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vangoghmusings · 4 years ago

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𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖍 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘

masterlist

pairing: vampire!hawks x gn!reader

genre: angst w/ nsfw themes

word count: 2.8k

warnings: swearing, mentions of dead animals, mentions of nudity, main character death

a/n: so~ im back from my break! i decided i’d only come back once i had content to post :) this one shot was originally going to be smut but angst fit better with the plotline so heres some sad shit for y’all :’) the song for this fic is ‘samson’ by regina spectre, linked here <3 i hope y’all like this cause angst isnt really my thing asfjkhld

✁ 𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖈𝖑𝖎𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖗 ✃

“We all have wings, but they have not been of any avail to us and if we could tear them off, we would do so.” Franz Kafka

It was a quote you knew by heart. After all, it was sitting neatly framed on your desk. It was a graduation gift, but you don’t remember from who. Years of schooling behind you, you were finally an expert in your field. Animal locomotion, volant insects- it was all the same to you. Creatures with wings were your life and passion. As you looked at the mounted glass boxes that held a variety of pinned butterflies that lined the walls of your office, you were brought out of your daze by a familiar ringing.

You sighed, picking up the telephone, wrapping the old cord around your finger as you awaited the greeting at the other end.

“Hello, is this Dr. L/N?”

“Midoriya?”

The familiar voice brought a smile to your face. Izuku Midoriya was you best friend, the both of you working towards doctorate in animal studies. You specialized in wings, he specialized in secrets. More specifically, mythical creatures, a secret that zoologists and the government held from the public as to keep chaos from ensuing.

“Ah Y/N! Yes, it's me! How are you?”

“Good, how-”

“I’m fine, thank you, I just- I need your help.”

“Oh? Is there a situation?”

“Well, yes and no... we’ve been told there’s been a spike in livestock and animals going missing, along with carcasses being found at an alarming rate. So, we’ve been conducting research and taking in recent sightings into consideration. We think there's a vampire in the Aokigahara forest.”

“A vampire? Midoriya you know that’s your expertise not mine. I know nothing about vampires, isn't there anyone else that can help you? I wouldn’t be of any use-”

“No no Y/N, you don’t understand. This vampire, it-it has wings.”

The line went silent, the ringing of the tone slowly becoming too much to bare.

“Are you sure-”

“We have photos, they're not great, but we’re certain its him.”

“Him?”

“It's a guess, but yes, a him.”

Another deafening pause.

“Do you have a plan?”

“Yes actually!”

The sudden confidence transmitted from Midoriya’s end of the phone made you chuckle.

“We’d like you to camp out in the woods, film what you can for us as well as observe anything you find or witness.”

“Midoriya, that sounds really dangerous, this is a vampire, right? I’m not baiting myself for science-”

“I promise it's not like that! You’d always have a walkie talkie running the entire time and have contact with me and the team. Nothing will happen to you, I promise.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. And besides, you’d get to keep his wings.”

That caught your attention. Like a puppy, your ears perked up at the magic w-word.

“Really?”

“Once we complete the research, we’d have to put him in captivity, and we’re not taking any chances on letting him escape, so we’ll extract them and give them to you.”

You bit your lip, imagining whatever possible large pair of wings could adorn your walls next.

“I’m in.”

“YOU’RE THE BEST!”

You laughed as Midoriya cheered on the other line. Research and new discoveries always made him bounce with glee, and despite not being able to physically see him, you knew he was bouncing around his office like a baby bunny learning to leap.

“When do we start?”

“Huh? Oh, do you think you could come to the northwest research building tomorrow? I’ll pay for your bus ticket and everything.”

“No no, it’s fine, I can make it over by noon.”

“Perfect! I’ll see you then!”

Before you could say goodbye, Midoriya hung up the phone, probably dashing around his office to prepare as much as he could for the upcoming events.

You chuckled and sighed, putting the phone down. You were going to be in the woods for God knows how long studying a vampire that could potentially kill you and suck you dry- all for a pair of wings.

You later received a text from Midoriya instructing you to pack a bag with at least a months' worth of clothing and your own personal items. He said that his team would bring all the other needs- food, water purifier, stationary and a walkie talkie. You would be set for the entire month to study the elusive winged vampire. All that was left now was go to Aokigahara. But nothing could have prepared you for what was to come in the next month.

As you trekked the hills of the Aokigahara forest that faithful day, all you could think of was the words Midoriya had said to you that morning.

“Our hope is that you actually meet him?”

“Meet him? The vampire? Midoriya you are trying to get me killed, aren’t you!”

“But the best research is done when you’re close to the primary source!”

You heaved a sigh and wiped the beads of sweat falling down your forehead with the back of your palm. You were entering the forest with the faux appearance an overwhelmed camper, seeking solace in the forest through self-reflection and meditation. Thus, everything had to look realistic, as to not make the vampire subject suspicious. The immense weight of the hiking backpack resting on your shoulders was unbearable, but you knew you still had to go further into the forest. You had to find the perfect spot. And finally, after several more exhausting hours, there it was.

The lake.

You beamed at the crystal-like water, ripping softly from the wind. Without hesitation, you dropped your backpack and began to set up camp. You had a fairly large tent, a cot and sleeping bag, and all your items, plus the ones promised by Midoriya’s team. Once you were happy with the setup of your tent, you deemed it was time to bathe. You were drenched in sweat and your muscles ached and you wanted nothing more than to engulf yourself in the lake’s cool waters.

Once you rid yourself of your sticky clothes, you stepped into the water, sighing happily. You soon submerged your whole body in the water, humming as you scrubbed the grime off your skin. The sky above was shifting from pink to orange, the sun quickly beginning to set. You could see the outline of the moon too.

“Pretty isn’t it?”

You jumped at the unexpected voice, quickly covering what you could of your naked body. You looked around anxiously, fearful of who or what had been watching you. You narrowed your eyes at a tree looming over the water, a figure seated on one of its branches. You clung to your chest tightly as the branch shook, the figure hopping off with ease.

Infront of you stood a blonde-haired man, incredibly fit, which was easy to see since he was shirtless. It seemed his only clothes appeared to be a pair of dirtied linen pants and a pair of poots. But that’s not what caught your attention- no, it was the enormous pair of bright crimson wings that stemmed from his back. They were breathtaking.

He chuckled lowly at your frozen stance.

“I meant the moon.”

You nodded slowly.

“O-oh,” was all you managed to say as it occurred to you that that man, creature, vampire, would be your subject of research for the next month.

His brows furrowed as he looked down at your toiletry bag that sat on the shore.

“Shit, is that soap?”

“Uh, yeah?”

What was happening? He was so normal? So calm? Were you not in his territory, invading his space? Or was he being kind, as to not scare off his next meal?

“I haven’t been able to use soap in a while. My parents visit me sometimes and bring me soap and shit, but they haven't in a while...can I use yours?”

Parents. He had a family. Did they have wings too? No, he was exiled, his wings made him an outlier. He was alone.

“Uh, yeah...” you mumbled, shyly gesturing to the toiletry bag with your chin. The man beamed and dug through your bag.

“Holy shit, you have hair soap too? Fancy,” he purred. Hair soap- did he mean shampoo?

You watched curiously as he tossed out item from your bag and set them on the shore. You found your cheeks burning with heat as you looked away while he undressed. You looked down at the water, ripples appearing as he stepped into the lake. You gulped and peered over your shoulder.

“What's your name?” You asked shyly.

“Keigo, you?”

You blinked at his unexpected friendliness.

“Y/N.”

He gave you a nodded before picking up one of the bottles he placed in the water that began to float away.

“So, which hair soap do I use first?”

“Uh, the one that says shampoo.”

Keigo looked down at the floating bottles before him.

“I can’t read,” He mumbled.

You gaped, he must’ve been exiled at a young age, with neither of his parents willing to take the time to educate him.

You stepped towards him carefully, we’ll aware of the danger he could pose. You picked up the shampoo bottle and handed it to him.

“Here, use this one first.”

He grinned, two large fangs appearing. It was obvious they caught you off guard, since he began to laugh.

“Scared of my fangs but not my wings? Interesting.”

You scoffed as he poured the shampoo in his palm.

“I’m not scared.”

“Right,” He chuckled, before putting the shampoo in his hair. Which he did a terrible job at, since it all began to drip down his face and into his eyes. “Ah fuck- this shit stings! Are you trying to poison me?”

You laughed and covered your mouth.

This was the dangerous vampire Midoriya had summoned you to research? He seemed helpless, and frankly a bit pathetic.

“Well it’s just for your hair, not your eyes.”

Keigo growled and plunged his face in the water, washing the shampoo out of his eyes. He flung his head back up and shook the water off, similarly to a dog. You winced at the water droplets that hit you.

“Do you- do you want help?”

Keigo raised a brow and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Why are you here?”

You froze, not expecting the question.

“Uh well, I needed a break from work. Just time to be alone and meditate, you know?”

“No, I wouldn’t know,” He frowned. You bit your lip and looked down.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you-”

You were caught off by his laugh once more.

“You’re fine Y/N, it’ll take more than that to offend me. Besides,” He said, a sharp taloned hand wrapping around your neck and pulling you close, “I could kill you if you ever did.”

He smirked, feeling you gulp in fear against his palm. You stood still in his grasp as leaned close into your ear.

“So, you’ll help me with the hair soap?”

✁✁✁

In the following weeks, you developed an unexpected closeness to Keigo. He hung around your tent day and night, occasionally leaving when he got hungry. In those moments alone, you updated Midoriya and wrote in your journal. By the end of the second week, you found yourself realizing how close you had truly gotten to the vampire when he finally let you shave off his rugged beard.

“Look at you!” You beamed, holding his face in your hand. He rolled his eyes and swiftly scooped you up, walking you both out of the water.

He set you down gently and handed you your towel. He on the other hand, used his wings and flapped himself dry, fluffy feathers flying everywhere. You wrapped the towel around your body and smiled up at him, trying to cover up the sinking feeling in your chest. You were beginning to see Keigo as a person rather than a specimen. And when the month ended, he’d be transported to a facility and have his wings clipped and handed to you on a silver platter for decoration. You shook the thoughts away and flashed Keigo another smile.

“Its getting late.”

He nodded and slipped on his pants, which he now also allowed you to wash. You bit your lip.

“Where do you sleep Keigo?”

He adjusted his waistband and looked to you.

“A treehouse.”

Your eyes widened.

“Really? Why haven’t you told me?”

He chuckled and ruffled your hair with taloned hand.

“Didn’t think it mattered. Wanna check it out?”

You nodded eagerly and scrambled to put your clothes on.

Keigo rolled his eyes and extended his hand out to you, which you took once you were dressed. He picked you up and cradled you in his harms before taking to the skies, protecting you from the branches above with his wings. This moment was your paradise, seeing his wings in action. You looked at the trees below you, looking miniature as you glided through the air. The air was thin yet crisp, you couldn’t help but give Keigo a grin.

He soon swooped down and gently landed on the ground, helping you to your feet.

“Keigo that was so cool!” You beamed up at him, jumping up and giving him a thankful hug. He blushed and hugged back, not expecting the affectionate contact. You looked up at the large well-built tree house that sat in the tree. With ease, Keigo helped you climb up the tree and inside his home.

Your eyes widened at the sight. The home was scattered with crimson feathers, blankets, pillows, and old blood stains on the wood.

“So uh, this is where I sleep,” He said gesturing to the nest-like pile of plush. You nodded and looked up at him.

“This is really cool Keigo, thanks for showing me!”

He grinned proudly at his home, despite its emptiness, you understood the sense of coziness it held.

He looked down at you and seemed to contemplate his next words.

“Would you, uh, like to stay here with me tonight?”

You looked up at him curiously.

“Promise not to kill me?”

He chuckled and nodded.

“Yes, I promise.”

“Then yes.”

It was already nighttime and you and Keigo had already eaten. All that was left was to rest. Keigo turned on the lamp and stepped into his “nest”, you follow his lead. You step into the softness of his fluffy nest and sink into it. As if by instinct, Keigo wraps you in his arms and pulls you to his chest, your breath hitching when you feel the warmth emitting from it. His wings wrapped around the both of you tightly in a secure fashion. You looked up at the silent blonde.

“Keigo?”

He hummed in response.

“Why haven’t you killed me?”

Keigo scrunched up his face at the question.

“I’m not a killer Y/N, I don’t kill humans.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just- you’re a- and you know,” you trailed off.

Keigo stayed silent, his large hands pressed against your back as he helped you. After what seemed like eternity he spoke.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“What does love feel like?”

You smiled softly and looked up at him, his eyes peering down at you under his long eyelashes.

“Well, love is when you really care about someone, and would do anything for them and you always want to be around them and-”

“Then I love you.”

Your mouth gaped at the confession.

“Keigo-”

“Everything you said, I feel it for you.”

You gave him a weak smile and ran your fingers through his hair. A familiar story came to mind: Samson and Delilah. Samon loved Delilah so intensely he let her shave his head and take away his strength, leaving him weak. You found yourself in the same position, using Keigo’s love to let you clip his wings to give to the Philistines, well, in this case Midoriya.

“I love you too Keigo.”

His face broke out in a wide smile, but he had no clue what to do next. He had never been in this position before.

You chuckled softly and gently stroked his cheek, “Do you want to kiss me?”

He nodded, a shy blush creeping onto his cheeks. You giggled lightly before snuggling closer to him and pressing a soft kiss against his lips, feeling him melt at the touch.

You really did love him.

And you remembered it every day.

You remembered him every day.

You remembered the angry cusses he spewed at you when you watch him get captured by Midoriya’s team.

You remembered his screams of agony as you watched him wake up from his surgery, only to realize his wings were gone.

You remembered his sulking, deteriorating body when you visited him, only to learn he hadn’t eaten in days.

And you remembered your heart breaking when you woke up at 2am to a phone call from Midoriya to learn that Keigo had died.

As you stared at the crimson wings propped up on your office wall, you couldn’t help but curse yourself. Were a pair of wings worth learning that a vampire with wings had the capacity to love?

taglist: @oikawaplssteponme @kac-chowsballs @mixfi @melaninmedia @strawberry-ice @therainroguefanfiction @johariameil @katsushimaa @xizimagines @lunabby010 @ecao @bnhainthewoo @v-vpluto @iiminibattlehero @cellotonin @mythiccheroacademia (dm to be added or removed <3)

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seratlantisite · 4 years ago

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god ok Dragon Age Inquisition Au where you stay a wanted fugitive for most of the game,

like you actually have to WORK for things, have to EARN the victory in any kind of way. step one, you aren’t inexplicably handed an army.

Picture it. You, the marked suspect in the divines death, stabilize the rift, pass out. But instead of waking up as the mythical Herald, surrounded by reverence, you are in the jail cell again. Cassandra believes you are innocent, but it's too late to convince anyone. Orlais wants your head. So Cassandra does the right thing, and helps you flee. You are, after all, still the only person who can do anything for the rifts. Solas is interested in the mark, so he comes too and, well, when has Varric ever turned down a good underdog story? Leliana helps you flee and promises to keep them off you.

You become the Fugitive. or something less nerdy

So you end up in the Hinterlands, and boy things sure are a mess down there, huh? So maybe you start taking out some bandits and rogue templars on your way. It’s kind of unavoidable. And the locals start to take notice. The more you help, the more they lie to the Chantry to help you. And you still need to try and close the breach, so you start wondering if the one of the factions could take a side trip from their war to help you. You have to pledge yourself, really work to earn the aid of either the Mages (x) or the Templars if you want to do an evil run idk, and of course they aren't without their own problems, but you get there. They trust you.

And on the way you keep finding fellow wayward scrappy do-gooders who want to help you. Madamme de Fer herself joins you, as you are the only practical way to Do Anything to help the world right now. And the Iron Bull well ok, you absolutely Cannot afford him but he wants to help, so for tax purposes you join the Chargers, technically, and Krem wont stop affectionately calling you guys the B-team.

So you take your faction and your team and you sneak into the mountains, which is easier if you befriended the lyrium smugglers, and if you convinced leliana’s contact Josephine to manoeuvre the nobility’s forces away from haven, and you do it! You stop the breach! And then a fucking dragon attacks you.

You buy your team time, and you flee. Corypheus wants you dead, so you need to hide. Fourtunately, Solas knows a secret place in the mountains, right between Fereldan and Orlais. Perfect place to sneak into both countries as needed. And cue the rest of the game, launched from your decrepit castle secret-base in the mountains.

(The rest of the game under the cut DA:I is so long.)

The war? Well the faction you chose seemingly fell with you, are hidden in Skyhold with you, so the other side seems to have won. Until they become visibly corrupted and start aiding Corypheus, and suddenly the people know who they trust more. The ones who Chose to help you.

Exalted plains? No longer a pointless mission for something your troops should really be handling, because there’s literally just you and your scooby gang to handle things. And well, lets say if you want to recruit Dagna you have to fight through it to find her because that whole area is so pointless as is.

You don’t get to “claim” landmarks and keeps but hey, at least peasants stop throwing fruit at you.

Wicked Eyes Wicked Hearts? Oh you better be ready to WORK for that invitation to the ball. Josephine has the to-do list for you, get ready to suck up to nobles. Or have Sera sneak you in if you really suck at it, but it’ll make things harder because no one knows who you are.

Adamant Fortress? Well if you settled the Orlesian throne you’ll have troops to assault it for you. Or you can jump the gun and try to STEALTH YOUR WAY IN. Get ready for the fight of your LIFE if you make even one misstep

The Temple of Mythal? There’s so much other weird magic in Thedas for Morrigan to be your magical advisor on - the forbidden oasis, the red lyrium and Samson’s armour. But when it’s time to go to the temple, Varric’s like “I know a gal” and Merrill comes to save you all and explain her culture and take the well (unless Lavellan really wants to). (and later there’s this really bad ass moment where Merrill and Morrigan nod to each other like “We got This” and fly off to fight the dragon together). And just for fun, let’s say if you argued for the wardens to stay, then either Hawke or the Warden leads the troops. Otherwise it’s some obnoxious Orlesian general.

And then. The final final battle. All your hard work Finally comes together. I personally am a fan of The Siege of Skyhold approach by @dont-fuck-me-gil. But the point is, you Earned this force with your own blood sweat and tears.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #da meta #josephine will have an office in val royeaux with the official PO box for the inquisition #you can pretend to be just checking your mail while you flirt with her #and the rogue templars would be in orlais wHY THE FUCK are they squatting in ferelden?? they just took over a fucking castle wtf #step one. get rid of the arMY YOU ARE INEXPLICABLY HANDED FOR DUMB REASONS. seriously this game has no stakes as is #idk how tresspasser would go #merrill #Morrigan #wicked eyes and wicked hearts #long post #temple of mythal #says Ser #a better age of dragons

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nukaworldnerd · 4 years ago

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My Dragon Age canon

Amell x Alistair

Hawke x Samson

Cadash x Blackwall

#Dragon age #Dragon age 2 #Dragon age inquisition #alistair theirin #Raleigh Samson #Blackwall #Amell #Hawke #Cadash #Terra Amell #Chevy Hawke #Gee Cadash

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whereismywarden · 4 months ago

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I was tagged by @uchidachi to do the WIP ask game. Thank you!

Ngl, I had forgotten about the existence of half of these and most of them will never see the light of day, but this was a fun little trip down my extensive WIP folder :)

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Elle & Seb's Guide to Avoiding Marriage

In the Soul of the Holy Man

Second Chances Redux

Cullen x Asaara sex scene

Lothering AU: Leandra & Violette

Lothering AU: Ana + Carver Kiss

Samson & Ana AU: 1

Samson & Ana AU: Sword Practice

Dark AU

Car back to Ferelden

Ana+Car Ostagar

Ostagar (v.2.0)

Ana+Car Tale of the Champ

Birthday

Calling

Confession

Injury (Ana+Car & And)

Please, stay

Scars

The Dawn of a New Age

Tales of the Warden

Ana & Anders Vigil's Keep nightmare

Ana+Al tent

Ana's Calling

Calling all my friends

InqCar+Ana Skyhold

Last Prayers

Post-partum

Surana meets Orsino

SuranaAnders02

Templar & Warden chap 2

Wardens Bet

Ana MotA Banter

Hard in Hightown: Chapter ??? - Ana vers

C&A first meeting + N birth

Document sans titre

The Last Straw

1T&B - chap 3

Lumières

Violette x Samson

Haw+And Betrayal

Hawke out of the Fade

Rylhawke - back

Rylhawke - Tale

Not gonna tag anyone because, well, have you seen the number of WIPs I have!? (and I'm pretty sure I've forgotten some because I'm terrible at organising stuff!) But if anyone is interested, have fun!

#ask game #writing #'i don't have a favourite oc' i say as i stare blankly at my 30+ ana centric wips

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pikapeppa · 4 years ago

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Samson/Roman Hawke: Care

Some slice-of-life “fluff” and smut for @schoute‘s divine Romie Hawke and Sammyboi!

~7500 words; read on AO3 instead AND CHECK OUT THE ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE ART THAT KILLS MEEEEEE.

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Roman was glaring at him.

This wasn’t unusual, really; scowling was her default expression. But it was a little unnerving to have her glaring at him while they were sitting naked in her bathtub.

He raised an eyebrow. “What’s the problem, Bird?”

She continued to stare at him in silence until the discomfort made his skin crawl. He frowned at her. “Roman,” he said loudly.

“What?” she snapped.

“What’s the bloody problem?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “There’s no problem.”

“You’re staring at me like there’s a problem.”

“I said there’s no fucking problem,” she said sharply.

He sighed. “If you say so.” He bent forward in the bath and scooped some water in his hands and splashed it over his head and neck, then lifted his head and smoothed the excess water from his hair.

“You’re making a mess,” she said.

He looked up. “Eh?”

She jerked her chin at his head. “You splashed water all over the floor.”

He made a little face. “Damn. I’ll wipe it up after.”

She folded her arms and said nothing more, so Samson decided to ignore her and continue washing up. He picked up her fancy glass bottle of shampoo and poured some into his palm, and he did his best to enjoy the vanilla-almond scent despite Roman’s unstinting scowl.

He lathered his hair thoroughly, being sure to wash the roots so she wouldn’t nag him. Then something made him pause — something in the bathtub.

Something pressing between his legs.

He swallowed hard. “Bird, your foot is on my balls.”

“So?”

“So… maybe you should move it.” He shifted a little awkwardly; even the gentle pressure of her toes was starting to rile him up.

“There’s nowhere else to move it,” she said. “You’re taking up too much space.”

He slumped slightly. She was the one who’d told him to take a bath with her. “You want me to get out? Is that it?”

She curled her lip. “No. Whatever. Why, do you want to get out?”

“Not when it’s all nice and warm in ‘ere. But if you’re going to use my balls as a footrest…” He trailed off; her foot was sliding along the length of his hardening cock.

She scoffed. “What, no more complaints now?”

He exhaled shakily and widened his knees. “Just don’t kick me, all right? Ah…”

She stroked his cock slowly with her foot, then gently pressed her heel into his balls. He grunted and curled his hips toward her, and she suddenly moved her foot away.

She huffed and settled her feet on either side of his hips. “Don’t be gross. I’m not going to let you come in my bathwater. Rinse your fucking hair.”

He exhaled, then shot her baleful look. “You’re a mean bloody tease, you know that?” He dunked his head and rubbed his hair until the shampoo was mostly gone. When he lifted his head from the water and slicked the water from his hair, he purposely splashed the floor a little more.

Roman sneered at him, and he gave her a mocking little smile before picking up the soap. “You’re not going to wash up, then?”

“I’m not the one who needs the bath,” she said.

“Then why are you sittin’ there?” he asked. “Should I be putting on a dirty show for you?”

She huffed and looked away. “No.”

He smirked and rubbed the soap on his chest. “Come on now, you don’t need to look away. Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“Fuck you,” she muttered.

Don’t need to ask me twice, he thought, but he kept that comment to himself; she looked about as brittle as the first layer of frost on a lake in winter, and if he goaded her any further, she might light a fire under his ass or something. Worse yet, she might tell him to get out of her bathtub and out of her house.

But her mother had just been murdered yesterday, and Samson wasn’t sure that it was a good idea for her to be alone. Why he’d decided that he should be the one to babysit the damned bird today, he wasn’t sure, but, well… here he was, so he supposed he’d make the best of it.

He started rubbing the soap on his arms. Then Roman sighed loudly. “Use the fucking washcloth,” she scolded. “You’re just rubbing the soap on top of the dirt.” She picked up the washcloth that was hanging on the edge of the tub, then held out her hand impatiently.

Samson handed her the soap, and she briskly lathered the washcloth. “Turn around,” she said.

He shot her a suspicious look, then gingerly turned around in the bathtub. A moment later, she was washing his back.

She rubbed the soapy cloth in a circular motion from the back of his neck across his shoulders, then over his shoulder blades and back toward his spine, and Samson breathed slowly as she washed his skin. Her movements were brisk but gentle, thorough without being rough, and he wondered at how the movement of her hands almost seemed practiced.

Her hands sank beneath the water to wash his lower back. Then she was scooping handfuls of water over his back and sluicing it away, again with those businesslike practiced movements as though it was something she’d done many times before, and Samson’s curiosity continued to grow, even as he enjoyed the unusual gentleness of Roman’s hands on his skin.

He didn’t get it. He didn’t get her. She was clearly capable of being gentle; this wasn’t the only time she’d treated him with tenderness in the guise of complaining about how dirty he was. But if he ever remarked on her gentleness or made an awkward attempt to be gentle in return, she snarled and shied away from him like a feral cat.

Less than a minute later, she was finished. “There,” she said. “That’s how you should be washing yourself. No wonder the fucking water is always brown by the time you’re done.”

He grunted. “I get it, all right? I’m filthy.”

“Not anymore. You’re welcome,” she said snarkily.

He huffed. Then, on impulse, he shifted backwards in the tub toward her.

“Hey,” she exclaimed. “What — what the fuck are you doing?”

He didn’t answer. He kept sliding back in the tub until he was between her legs, then boldly leaned against her so his back was flush to her chest.

“Seriously, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

“Having tea with the bloody Queen of Ferelden,” he retorted. “What’s it look like?”

“It looks like you’re fucking trapping me in my own tub,” she snapped.

He sighed and adjusted the back of his head against her bony collarbone. “Just relax, all right? The water’s warm and it’s not that dirty. Just relax.”

She growled in his ear, but she made no more complaints. Samson closed his eyes and waited to see what she would do.

For a long moment, she didn’t move. She just sat there stiff and unmoving in the tub behind him, and Samson eventually wondered if she’d just stay sitting there like a golem until he moved.

Eventually, though, he felt some of the tension leave her body. Her thighs softened behind his hips, and he could feel her shoulders and her spine relaxing into the curve of the tub, and some of his own tension started to leave him in response to the softening of her body.

He breathed slowly, enjoying the soap-scented steam of the bath and the strange pleasantness of Roman’s body pressed against his own — not to mention the fact that she was letting him stay pressed against her like this. Honestly, when he’d decided to lie back against her chest, he hadn’t really expected her to allow it. Now that he was lounging against her in such an intimate way, he realized something odd: he’d never actually done this before. This lounging-and-relaxing business, that is. There’d been a few girls here and there before he’d joined the Templars, but none who wanted him to stick around for… whatever this was.

Not that Roman had asked him to stick around or anything like that. But she was also a strange case — an especially difficult case. Frankly, Roman Hawke was a bloody pain in his ass. She would never actually ask him to stay with her or to stick around. And unless she was demanding that he fuck her, he could never be entirely sure what she wanted from him. The most she would do is tell him she didn’t care what he did, and after knowing her for a few years now, he’d started to accept her I-don’t-cares as implicit permission to stay.

Or, in a situation like right now, if she wasn’t pushing him away and telling him to leave, he’d take it as a sign that she wasn’t completely disgusted with his presence.

She suddenly curled her arm around his shoulders and grabbed his chin, and Samson tensed at her sudden grip. Then she roughly rubbed his chin. “You should shave,” she said. “Your stubble is too long to be stubble anymore.”

“What if I was trying to grow a beard for the winter?” he said.

She clicked her tongue. “It’s not winter for another four months, you dumbass.”

“It takes time to grow a beard, you know.”

She released his chin. “Are you really trying to grow a beard?”

He shrugged. “Eh, not really. Why? You think I’d look worse with a beard?”

“No,” she said. “I don’t know. It’s your face, do what you want.”

Her hand was resting on his chest now — just resting there casually and not doing anything. He wasn’t used to her hands on his body unless they were having sex. Having Roman’s hand just laying there on his chest… He couldn't decide if it felt nice or just plain strange.

“I’ll shave,” he said. “Don’t want to hear you complaining about how I’m scratching you up when I’m going down on you.”

She tsked. “Thanks a lot.”

“Anytime, Bird.” He closed his eyes again. Roman’s arm was still loosely curled around his shoulders, and it was almost like a hug.

A sudden jolt tugged at the inside of his ribs. He swallowed hard and didn’t speak, and for another long and oddly peaceful moment, they just sat together in the bathtub with his back pressed to her chest and her arm draped around him.

“I’ll shave your stupid whiskers for you,” she said quietly.

Her lips were close to his ear, and a little shiver traced down his spine at the nearness of her lips. A number of snarky replies darted across his mind, but he settled on an honest question instead.

“Why?” he said.

“Why what?” she asked.

“Why d’you want to shave my face for me?”

“I don’t — I didn’t say I want to. I just said I can.” She tensed behind him as though to push herself up from the bath.

Samson grabbed her wrist so she couldn’t get out. “Wait.”

“Let me go,” she snapped.

“Just wait, will you?” he insisted. “I want to ask you something.”

“What?” she said impatiently.

“You’re good at this,” he said. “This washing business, the hair, the back. Why is that?”

She tried to pull her wrist from his hand, but he tightened his grip and doggedly pressed on. “You said it wasn’t from helping with your brother and sister. So what, then?”

“Let me go. Now,” she hissed, and she bit the edge of his ear.

He yelped in surprise and released her, then watched resentfully as she stepped out of the tub and grabbed a towel on her way out of the bathroom. Once she had disappeared into her bedroom, he settled against the back of the tub with a sigh.

He shouldn’t have said anything. He should’ve known better than to push her. He took a deep breath and submerged himself completely in the tub, then slowly rose to the surface and pushed his hair out of his face.

He opened his eyes, then recoiled slightly. Roman was standing there in her silk dressing gown, and she had an open barber’s razor in her hand.

“Get out,” she said, and she nodded her head at the stool beside her. “Sit here.”

He exhaled slowly, then stood up and stepped out of the bath. “You’re not going to slit my throat, are you?”

“For fuck’s sake, no,” she said in exasperation. “I know what I’m doing.”

He pursed his lips but didn’t contradict her. He quickly rubbed a towel through his hair, then wrapped it around his waist and sat down on her stool.

She draped a smaller towel over his shoulder. A minute later, she started lathering his face with shaving cream.

He jolted, and she squeezed his shoulder. “Sit still,” she scolded.

“It’s hot,” he complained. “Why is the shaving cream hot?”

“It’s supposed to be hot,” she retorted. “Just relax.”

Her tone was mocking. He scowled and closed his eyes, and Roman continued to blot his face with the hot shaving cream, and it was… all right, it was kind of nice once he got used to the feeling of it. But she could have warned him.

He inhaled the faintly astringent scent of the shaving cream as she dabbed it over his upper lip. Then Roman picked up her barber’s razor. “Tilt your head,” she said.

He did as he was told. Her fingers rested delicately on his cheekbone, and she began carefully shaving away his whiskers with careful little strokes of the barber’s blade.

She shaved part of his cheek, then wiped the blade on the towel on his shoulder before continuing to shave his skin. “I did this for my dad,” she said quietly.

He opened his eyes and glanced at her. She was looking at her hands, but her eyes flicked to his briefly before returning to her busy hands.

“He couldn’t do it himself?” Samson said.

“Not when he was sick, no.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Sick?”

“Yeah,” she said. “He died of… we don’t know what. Some kind of illness that just made him waste away. He couldn’t breathe by the end.”

“That’s…” He trailed off awkwardly, then tried again. “Sounds rough, Bird. Sorry to hear it.”

“Don’t be,” she said. “You didn’t do anything.”

Her tone was flat and brusque. They were both silent for a moment. Then, against his better judgment, Samson spoke again. “Did you… wash his hair too?”

“Yes,” she said.

And his back? Samson wondered, but his gut was squirming with discomfort now – discomfort for her sake. He knew Malcolm Hawke had died when Roman was about twenty, and now to imagine a younger Roman giving her own sickly father a bath and a shave…

He shifted uncomfortably on the stool. He wasn’t sure how to feel about her shaving him now.

She tsked and squeezed his shoulder. “Sit fucking still, Samson. I mean it.”

“You don’t have to do this for me, you know,” he said. “I can do it myself.”

“I said to sit still,” she snapped. “Just let me do it.”

He pursed his lips, but he did as she bade him and sat there while her razor moved delicately across his face. Her fingers were uncharacteristically gentle, just as they were when she washed his hair or his back, but now he understood where her gentleness came from.

He decided to risk asking her another question, since she was being so strangely forthcoming. “Why didn’t your mum shave him?”

She let out a humourless little laugh. “She couldn’t. Too overwhelmed.”

“Your mum seemed to get overwhelmed a lot,” Samson remarked.

She huffed. Then a flicker of emotion crossed her face — a complex mixture of anger and guilt and distress that made his gut twist.

Her mother had just died yesterday. He was being an asshole. He sighed. “Roman, I — Maker’s balls. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” she interrupted. “Stop apologizing.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t—”

“I said stop apologizing,” she barked. “You didn’t fucking do anything wrong.”

“All right, all right,” he said hastily, and for a while, he said nothing more. Roman continued to shave his face, and by the time she was done, there was a melancholy sort of softness to her frown that made his chest hurt.

She dampened another towel with hot water and carefully wiped the residual shaving cream from his face, then eyed him in silence. He rubbed his face — damn, it really did feel extra smooth — then lifted one eyebrow. “So? Do I look like a brand-new man?”

“Yeah, actually,” she said. Then she turned away. “Get dressed and come downstairs,” she said, and she left him alone in the bathroom.

He sat there for a moment, surprised and a little dismayed that she hadn’t taken the opportunity to take a dig at him. She really must be feeling fucked up.

He quickly threw on some of Carver’s clothes that she’d left on the bed for him, then padded downstairs. She was in the kitchen, and she was pouring rum into two shot glasses.

He huffed in amusement and leaned his elbow on the kitchen island. “It’s not even close to noon yet.”

“I don’t give a shit,” she said. She pushed one shot glass toward him, then nodded her head at the spread of food on the kitchen island. “Eat whatever you want.”

He eyed the food. There was a tureen of what smelled like lamb stew, a platter of fragrant cranberry-studded scones, and a plate of fat red grapes and sliced Ferelden cheese.

He smirked. “You made all this for me? That’s nice.”

She scoffed. “Fuck off. Orana and Bodahn did it.” She downed her shot of rum.

“You expectin’ company?” he said. He popped a grape in his mouth.

“Fuck no,” she said. “I’m not seeing anyone today.”

He paused in his chewing. “You’re not?” he said in surprise. There was no way her crew weren’t going to show up at some point today. Was she really not going to see them?

She wrinkled her nose and poured a second shot. “No way. I don’t need company. I’ve got this bottle of rum.”

He watched her warily. The bottle of rum in her hand was more than half-full, and she wasn’t looking at him. Was she planning to drink it all herself?

He remembered how spectacularly drunk she’d been last night. Probably, he thought. He quickly drained his shot glass and held it out to her. “Here’s to hoping you can share, then.”

She looked at him, and something flashed across her face — a look that tugged at his heart, but it was gone before he could fully register it. Then she shrugged and poured some more rum into his shot glass. “Sure. Whatever. Stay and eat if you want.” She drank her second shot and poured herself a third.

He nodded and drank his second shot, and Roman immediately poured him another, but instead of drinking it, he picked up a scone and offered it to her.

She raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Eat it,” he said. “You’ll last the day better if you have something in your belly.”

She scoffed. “You’re giving me lessons in drinking?”

“Think of it as passing on the family wisdom,” he said wryly.

She gave him a more serious look. “Your parents were drunks?”

“My dad,” he said. “Or my mum certainly thought so.” He shrugged and took a small bite of the scone. “He was probably no better or worse than your uncle, for what it’s worth.”

She harrumphed. “That’s not saying much.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. He took another bite of the fresh scone, then held it out to her.

She gingerly took it from his fingers, then shot him a guarded glance. “Your parents are… they, uh. They died a long time ago, right?”

“That’s right,” he said.

She nodded and picked some crumbs from the scone. “How did they… what happened to them?”

Samson sighed and leaned both elbows on the counter. “My dad was done in during a work accident. He did odd jobs here and there, general labour stuff — sometimes building houses, sometimes working down at the docks. The job that killed ‘im was a construction job, I heard.” He shrugged and selected a piece of cheese. “My mum was right pissed. She thought he was drunk at the time.”

“Was he?” Roman said quietly.

“No idea,” Samson said. “Probably.”

“Didn’t get along with your dad, huh?” she said, and she drank her third shot.

“I barely knew ‘im, really,” Samson said. “He didn’t spend much time at home.”

“And your mom?” she asked.

He shot a pointed look at the scone in her hand. She rolled her eyes and took a bite, and Samson picked up his shot glass. “I knew my mum well,” he said. “Too well, really.”

“No, I meant did she get along with your dad,” Roman said. “Doesn’t sound like it.”

He smirked. “You got that already, eh? No, they weren’t on great terms.” He downed his third shot. Frankly, his mother had hated his father. His only memories of his parents together were memories of fights, whether those fights were furiously whispered arguments or full-out shouting matches. Samson’s father drank too much, he was never home, he was drunk whenever he was home, he drank away half of his weekly pay… His mother’s list of complaints was a never-ending diatribe that somehow only worsened after his father died.

Roman poured a fourth shot for them both. “What happened to her?”

“She got sick,” Samson said. He shot her a knowing look. “Doesn’t sound too different from what happened to your dad, actually. She got a cough that just kept getting worse. Then one day, she just stopped breathing.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Fuck. That’s… it’s shitty, isn’t it? Watching that happen and not being able to fucking fix it?”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t know,” he said. “I wasn’t there.”

Her eyebrows jumped up. “You — where were you?”

“I was here in Kirkwall,” he said. “I couldn’t make it back to Starkhaven.”

“Why…?” She trailed off, and her face twisted with anger. “Oh fuck. Had the Templars already kicked you out by then?”

He nodded and sipped his shot. “I hadn’t the coin to go back. Haven’t been able to say my farewells or nothing.”

She exhaled. “Fuck. That’s… that’s fucking awful. Fucking Templar Order.”

He shrugged. In truth, even years after his mother’s death, he still fluctuated between terrible guilt and even more terrible relief for not being able to attend his mother’s funeral.

He finished his shot and changed the subject. “Why couldn’t you do anything about your dad?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean magic healing,” he said. “You couldn’t do that for your dad?”

Her frown deepened into a scowl. “I can’t, no. Advanced magic healing involves getting help from spirits, which is a stupid fucking idea when you do blood magic.”

“Oh,” he said in surprise. “It… that healing stuff uses spirits, eh? I never really thought about it.”

“I have,” she said. “A lot.” She downed her shot and poured another.

“You have?” he said.

She gulped down her fifth shot, then looked at him. “I started doing blood magic when I was seventeen or eighteen. My father taught me about it, actually.”

He stared at her. “Your dad taught you blood magic?”

“No, he taught me about it,” she said impatiently. “He told me to avoid it — of course he did, he was brought up in a fucking Circle. But he taught me the basic principles so I’d know how it works. And one of the principles is that if you do blood magic, you should avoid healing magic because mixing the two can make you more prone to possession, since advanced healing magic invokes spirits.”

He gazed at her in genuine surprise. “I didn’t… I didn’t think of that.”

“What, they didn’t talk about that in Templar training?” she said snidely.

He shook his head, and she snorted. “I’m not surprised. Something the Chantry doesn't know about? Of course they teach you to be scared instead of fucking learning about it.”

He held up a hand. “Hang on, I need another shot.”

She looked at him. “You need one? Why?”

“If we’re going to talk politics?” he said dryly. “You bet I need another bloody shot.”

She smirked, and his heart did a little hop at the rare sight of a near-smile on her face. She must be getting drunk.

“Fuck politics, then,” she announced. “You were saying something about your mom.” She poured him a fifth shot, spilling some rum on the counter in the process.

Definitely getting drunk, he thought in amusement. If his gently spinning head was anything to go by, though, she wasn’t the only one.

“Maybe I’d rather talk about the politics,” he said.

“Too bad,” she said. “Tell me about your mother.” She took a big bite of scone.

“My mother…” He sighed and picked up his overfull shot glass. “She wasn’t fond of me.”

Roman swallowed her bite of scone. “Not fond of you? Why not?” She bit into the scone again.

He shrugged. “She thought I was my dad all over again. A useless layabout.”

Roman paused, then swallowed her food and frowned at him. “She thought that?”

“Must have done,” he said casually. “She called me that often enough.”

“But you’re not a layabout,” Roman said.

He gave her a humourless little smile. “I’m a beggar, Bird. Ask anyone and they’d say I’m the perfect example of a layabout.”

“They’d be wrong,” she said in a hard tone. “You’re not fucking layabout. You’re always thinking about shit even when you look like you’re just sitting around. Listening to people, picking up their secrets to sell for later. That’s work. That is your work.”

He looked at her, stunned by her assessment. She wasn’t wrong, that was what he was always doing, but she considered that to be work?

A little unnerved by her generous impression of him, he shrugged and lifted his shot glass to his lips. “Maybe I was a lazy layabout when I was young. You don’t know.”

“I doubt it,” she said. “You joined the Templars when you were, what? Eighteen?”

He swallowed the rum and lowered his empty shot glass. “Yeah.”

“That doesn’t sound lazy to me.”

He toyed with his shot glass and didn’t reply. Again, she wasn’t entirely wrong; he and his mother desperately needed the money, and picking up the jobs that his dead father had left behind hadn’t been enough, so Samson had joined the Templars for the steady salary. But there was another more selfish reason that he’d joined the Templars, too.

He briefly considered not telling that reason to Roman. She was the only person who thought he had any value, and if he told her how selfish he was, maybe she’d start thinking he was a piece of shit like everyone else did.

But his drunken tongue was already wagging. “I didn’t exactly join the Templars because of my work ethic,” he said. “I joined them to get away from my mum.”

Roman shrugged. “Mm. That makes sense.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprised by her casual response. “You think so?”

She gave him a knowing look. “You’re not the only one with a disapproving mother. Or whose parents weren’t on the greatest terms.”

He stared at her. In a single breath, she’d just told him more personal information he’d ever heard from her mouth.

She’d never said outright that Leandra didn’t approve of her. And she’d never anything about her parents’ relationship before. Samson had always assumed her parents had a good marriage since her mum was always whining about Malcolm’s death.

But how could Roman’s mum not approve of her? Roman had gone to the deep roads and brought back a fortune. She’d reinstated the Amell name and bought back this bloody mansion, all for her mother’s sake. What was there for Leandra to disapprove of?

At a total loss for words, he grimaced. “Well… damn.”

“Yeah,” she said. She poured them both another shot, then lifted her shot glass. “To dead mothers.”

A snort of laughter escaped him. She was so fucking vulgar sometimes. He lifted his shot glass as well. “To dead mothers, all right.”

They downed their shots. Then Samson chuckled and shook his head.

She blinked at him blearily. “What?”

“Ah, just…” He chuckled again. “Having a drink in their memory. Seems like it’s the last thing they’d want.”

She raised her eyebrows, then leaned back against the kitchen island beside him. “Shit. You’re right. My mother was always fucking nagging me about going to the Hanged Man.”

“Mine was always nagging my dad about the booze, too,” he said.

Roman looked up at him, and his heart did a little flip: her plump lips were curved in a small smile. “The fucking irony, huh?” she said. “Drinking in their honour?”

“Er, yeah,” he said blankly. To be honest, he wasn’t really thinking about his mother anymore. He was too preoccupied with the unprecedented sight of Roman’s smile.

She was smiling. Roman was smiling, and her arm was pressed against his, and the front of her robe was gaping a little bit so he could see that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

She snorted a little laugh, and Samson’s heart stopped. Had – had she just laughed?

She shook her head and folded her arms. “We’re honouring their memory by doing the thing they hate. That’s… that’s fucking funny.” She snorted again, then started laughing in earnest, and Samson gaped at her stupidly.

Roman Hawke was laughing. Not a little huff or a tiny smirk, but a real belly laugh, and – Maker’s balls, he couldn’t think. She was laughing and she was pressed against his side, and her robe was gaping wide enough that he could see the edge of her nipple, and his head was spinning with rum and disbelief and a sudden burn of lust, lust that only climbed higher as she suddenly reached out and curled her fingers into his shirt–

And then he was kissing her. Or she was kissing him. Or – fuck, he didn’t know who had kissed whom, but she was sucking on his tongue and he could taste the sharp sugary flavour of rum in her mouth.

Without breaking their kiss, he abruptly pinned her back against the kitchen island, then cupped her face in his palms and kissed her hard. She twisted her hands in his shirt, and he nipped her lips and stroked her tongue ruthlessly with his own, and with every excited beat of his heart, he realized something unbelievably odd: she was allowing the kiss.

Roman was letting him kiss her. Before now, she’d always bitten him (or tried to) whenever he kissed her. But now, at this moment of drunken desire, it seemed that her guard was down.

He groaned and pressed his hips to hers, riled beyond reason by the rare treat of her unabridged kiss. He devoured her lips and twisted his tongue with hers and savoured the rum-soaked taste of her breath, and meanwhile his fingers were tugging at the loose belt of her dressing gown and pulling it open and sliding over the angular planes of her ribs—

He palmed her bare little breast, and she broke their kiss with a convulsive gasp. “Fuck,” she whimpered.

“Do you want to?” he breathed, and he kissed her again.

Her muffled moan filled his mouth. He twisted her nipple until she was writhing, then eagerly pushed his hand into her smalls.

She gasped into his mouth, and he groaned with longing; she was already wet, her slick warmth coating his fingers as he ran them clumsily between her legs.

He pinned her against the counter and buried his face against her neck while he stroked her pussy. She was already bucking against his hand, gasping through her parted lips as though his clumsy drunken touch was actually pleasing her, and despite his alcohol-muddled mind, he couldn’t help but feel a little proud.

Feeling cocky now, he kissed her again and slid one finger inside of her at the same time. She cried out into his mouth and arched into his touch, then bit his tongue.

He grunted in pain, then pulled away from her kiss and grabbed her throat with his free hand. “Don’t bloody bite me,” he gasped. “Don’t – just let me…” He trailed off distractedly; her eyes were unfocused and feverish, and she was grinding hard against his hand.

That self-satisfied feeling of lust fanned out through his body. He squeezed her throat gently and curled his finger inside of her. “This is nice for you, is it?” he growled.

She gasped and nodded. Samson delved his finger inside of her for a moment longer, then pulled his finger free and circled it around her clit instead. “If I was licking you right now, it would feel extra nice since my face is all smooth,” he murmured in her ear. “No scratching or anything.”

She gasped and dug her nails into his chest through his shirt, and the faint hint of pain pushed his lust even higher. He petted her clit and nipped her neck, then pressed his lips to her ear again. “You’re going to come all over my hand, Bird,” he crooned. “And when you come, I’ll fuck you good and hard.”

“Why won’t you go down on me?” she demanded.

“I think I’m too drunk,” he admitted. “I can’t do a proper job of it.”

She scoffed. “Coward.”

He shot her an affronted look, then turned her head to the side and bit the side of her neck. She cried out and bucked against his hand, and he bit her once more before pressing his lips to her ear again.

“I’ll show you who’s a bloody coward later,” he hissed. “Now come on my fingers.”

“Don’t — ah — don’t tell me — what to — f-fuck, ah!” Her face twisted with pleasure, and then she was shuddering with rapture, her fingers gripping his shirt and her eyelids fluttering in the throes of her pleasure, and Samson vindictively enjoyed the sight of her climaxing on his hand exactly as he’d told her to do.

Without releasing her throat, he leaned in and kissed her again. When she parted her lips to bite him, he bit her lower lip instead.

She yelped in pain, then pushed his hand away from her throat and stared at him, and he smiled mockingly at her. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” he said.

She stared at him without speaking, and Samson watched delightedly as her expression became heated and intense. She suddenly reached down and rubbed her hand over his pulsing groin.

He gasped, and she started plucking at the laces of his trousers. “Fuck me,” she demanded. “Come on, fuck me now.”

“Where?” he panted. Frankly, he’d fuck her right here on the kitchen floor if she wanted, but somewhere slightly more comfortable would probably be… well, more comfortable.

She was clearly of the same mind. “Anywhere,” she blurted. “Anywhere, I don’t… there, the table.”

He blearily followed her gaze. There was a round table for four at the back of the kitchen, the sort of table that kitchen servants would sit at while eating their meals.

He looked at her. “You sure–”

She shoved her hand into his trousers and wrapped her fist around his cock. “Fuck me on the table,” she ordered.

Fuck, her hand was so warm and tight around his cock. “All right,” he blurted. “All right, all right.”

She released him and strode over to the table, then sat on the table and spread her legs. “Come on, get over here,” she said.

For a split second, he just stared at her. Her robe was splayed open, showing off the rosy peaks of her nipples, and her smallclothes were soaked with her own desire.

Damn, he thought stupidly. A second later, he was standing in front of her and pulling out his cock while shoving her legs wider with his other hand.

He pumped his fist along his length. “Pull your smalls to the side,” he grunted.

She reached for his cock. “Don’t tell me what to–”

He grabbed her wrist. “Bird, just bloody do what I ask for once,” he said in exasperation. He shoved her hand down between her own legs. “Pull them to the side, come on.”

She finally did as he’d asked, hooking her fingers into the fabric between her legs and pulling it aside, and Samson stared greedily at her slickness, dizzy with booze and desire and his own good fortune.

He braced one hand on the table and thrust into her, and they both gasped at the desperately-needed joining of their bodies. Samson grabbed her hip and tilted her closer to the edge of the table, then thrust into her again and dipped his head low to take her nipple in his mouth, and then he was fucking her fast and suckling her nipple at the same time.

She bucked her hips to meet him. “Harder,” she gasped.

He wasn’t sure what she meant. Fuck her harder, or suck her nipple harder? He supposed he had better do both just to be safe.

He dug his fingers into her ass and bit her nipple and slammed into her, and she cried out and arched her spine toward him. Spurred on by her obvious pleasure, he sucked her nipple hard, then released her breast and sank his teeth into the juncture of her shoulder and her neck, and all the while he was slamming into her in a hard and driving rhythm, driving his own insistent pleasure higher with every frenzied thrust.

He dragged his tongue along her neck and bit her throat, and she whimpered. “F-fuck,” she gasped. “I — I kind of miss your scratchy whiskers.”

He burst out a rasping little laugh. “You’re such a contrary bitch.”

“Shut up,” she panted. “Bite me again.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he said mockingly, and he slammed himself in deep again.

She cried out, then released the crotch of her smalls and clawed at his shoulder, sending a delicious streak of pain across his skin. “Come on, come on, I want you to bite me!”

He stopped thrusting and reached down to pull the crotch of her smalls out of the way. “For Maker’s bloody sake,” he complained, and he thrust into her again before biting her breast.

She sobbed and slid her fingers into his hair, but to his surprise, she didn’t pull or scratch his scalp. She was still bucking her hips like a wanton little wildcat, but her fingers were oddly gentle in his hair and on his neck, curving around the back of his neck and gripping him without digging in, and for some reason, the gentleness of her hand was making his heart pound.

He dragged in a breath, then cradled her neck firmly in his free hand and pressed his forehead to hers as he fucked her. Her lips were an inch from his and he could feel the rum-scented heat of her breath across his lips, but he didn’t try to kiss her; he just fucked her in a hard driving rhythm with his forehead pressed to hers and her slender kiss-bruised neck cradled in his palm.

“I’m going to come soon, Bird,” he grunted.

“I know,” she gasped.

He stroked her jawline with his thumb. “I’m — I’m going to fill you with my come so it soaks into your smalls.”

She nodded eagerly, and her lips brushed against his. “I know, I know, just do it,” she moaned.

He breathed hard, dizzy and breathless from the nearness of her mouth. His orgasm felt like it was ready to burst from his skin, and her mouth was so close to his, barely a hairsbreadth away, what if — what if he, while he was coming, what if he – would she bite him if he kissed her? But fuck, he really wanted to…

His climax suddenly burst. Reckless and overcome with pleasure, Samson kissed her while he came. He thrust into her and hungrily stroked her tongue with his, and — oh Maker, Maker’s balls, Roman was licking his tongue and kissing him back.

For the second time today, possibly the second time ever, she was actually allowing him to kiss her, and her fingers were running through his hair in a smooth caress, and his heart was pounding so hard that it felt like it was trying to escape his rib cage altogether.

He petted the back of her neck and slanted his mouth firmly over hers. Then Roman gripped his hair and pulled him away.

He stared breathlessly at her flushed and frowning face. His cock was still pulsing with the tail-end of his rapture, and his entire body felt like it was tingling and floating, and… Maker’s fucking balls, he’d never felt this way before. He felt stunned but euphoric, as though he’d been struck in the head but in a good way, even though that made no bloody sense.

Must be drunker than I thought, he told himself. He released her neck, then slowly pulled out of her and tucked his cock back into his trousers. “Where’s… um, your household staff. Bodahn and the others. Are they…?” He trailed off awkwardly. Damn, he should have thought of this before he’d shoved his hand into her smallclothes.

Roman adjusted her smalls and slid off of the table. “They’re here somewhere.”

“Oh,” he said. He scratched the back of his head and guiltily eyed the table. “Should we, er…”

“Yeah,” she said. “They already think I’m an asshole, though, so this doesn’t change anything.” She retied her robe, then pushed past him to get a wash rag and some soap from the kitchen sink. She wet the rag in hot water and lathered it up, then stumbled back over to the table and started wiping it down.

Samson watched her for a moment before speaking. “You’re not an asshole, Bird. Not always.”

She shot him a disparaging look. “Yes I am,” she said. She turned back to the table and continued to clean it, and as he watched her scrubbing the table as though she was doing penance, he was struck by a weird urge to walk up behind her and wrap her in his arms.

Don’t be stupid, he thought. She would shove him away if he tried.

He leaned against the kitchen counter and folded his arms. When Roman finished washing the table, she rinsed the table with hot water and wiped it dry, then wandered over to him.

She leaned against the opposite counter and folded her arms too. “Well? Are you leaving now?”

His belly dropped with disappointment. “Do you want me to leave?” he said.

She shrugged and brushed a stray piece of lint off of her sleeve. “I don’t care. Do what you want.”

He studied her carefully, then lifted his chin. “What if I said I’m staying here tonight?”

She shrugged. “Fine. Whatever.”

“And if I wanted to take a piss in your fancy bathtub?” he taunted.

She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t be fucking disgusting.”

He huffed in amusement. “How about…” He nibbled the inside of his cheek, then took a chance. “What if I said I was staying here for the rest of the week so I can sleep in your fancy bed?”

She eyed him for a second, then looked away. “Stay if you want. I don’t care.”

I don’t care. She was always saying this, and it was so fucking frustrating.

He reached out and tugged her arm, and she stumbled toward him. “Hey, don’t pull,” she complained.

He ignored her complaint and dragged her against his chest. “What if I said I’m going to sleep here from now on so I can have my way with you whenever I get the urge?”

She stubbornly folded her arms, but Samson noted that she didn’t try to pull away — and that her cheeks were turning pink. “Good luck with that, you cocky asshole,” she retorted.

“Roman,” he said seriously. “Do you want me to stay?”

Her cheeks were red now, and she was positively glowering at him. “It’s — whatever. Stay if you want. I told you, I don’t care what you do.”

He sighed loudly. “You’re a bloody pain in the arse,” he complained, and he kissed her.

She nipped his lip, then pushed him away. “I’m going back upstairs,” she said. “Eat what you want. Or bring something upstairs with you, whatever.” She strode toward the kitchen door without looking at him, and he watched with a mixture of fondness and frustration as she walked away.

Once she was gone, he leaned his elbows on the kitchen island and popped a piece of cheese in his mouth. Bloody Bird, he thought. She was like a tornado, pulling him in a hundred different directions at once with her anger and her defensiveness and her constant cursing. But then there were these moments of peace and stillness with her — moments where she was just a little bit soft, when her hands were tender and her voice was calm. Those moments when they were sitting together in silence, or having a drink and a chat, or lying in her bed in the aftermath of their torrid sex: those moments were precious, more precious than any moment he’d ever had with any other person in his life, and in those fragile moments, Samson knew, deep down, what this really was.

He knew what this was, even though he’d never had it before or felt it in this way for anyone else. He knew what this was, and at some level, beneath Roman’s sneering words and her whatevers and her I-don’t-cares, he was sure that she knew what it was as well.

He’d be damned if he would be the one to say it, though. He’d made a damned fool of himself enough times in his life, thanks very much.

He slowly ate another piece of cheese. When he was finished, he went to the cupboard and took out a large plate, then piled the plate with scones and cheese and fruit.

“She’d better eat this,” he muttered to himself. With that threatening thought, Samson left the kitchen and went to join Roman in her bedroom.

#samson #raleigh samson #samson/hawke #samson x hawke #romanson #pikapeppa writes

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