#their bantering is so on point

[personinthepalace]

#welll yes!#the best kind!#because both of them can dish it and take it 😌#there's so much typical british humour in this. it's truly a delight#their comedic timing was great actually#jane looking at his lips in the first one. GIRL STAND UP via @yrsonpurpose

jane & guildford's unique way of flirting

[mobius-m-mobius]

#obsessed with their priorities

[bamboozled-distress]

wait😭😭😭 why are wrightworth sillier in the subbed anime versus the dubbed like when larry confessed to stealing his lunch money bc in the subbed it goes

buuuuuut in the dubbed it’s like

“What! It took you this long to confess to it?!” - pheonix

“Cmon man you’re a defence lawyer so at least give me the benefit of the doubt” - larry

“well now i wish i was a prosecutor, at least then I could throw your sorry butt in jail.” - pheonix

“Please edgey boy, you gotta be my defence lawyer” - larry

“That’s not my job” - edgeworth

“Alright guys, break it up okay” - gumshoe

**pheonix saying you’re the victim, why would you defend the culprit, and being outrageously mad about it doesn’t even make it to the dubbed??**

[fiannans]

If it was a choice between actually getting to know our companions better and developing their relationships with Rook as the player's avatar through classic, Bioware-style investigative conversations or having companions appear in random locations every time you return to the Lighthouse to listen to them spout banter that I could have just heard in the field instead, I know which I would have preferred.

[vigilskeep]

can you talk about misinterpretations of wynne and zevran's dynamic??? i'm chewing on your analysis

i think it’s a very basic case of people simply taking what is said at face value, in a way that comes up a lot with your classic zevran misinterpretations and uhhh oversimplifications. zevran and wynne’s banters are full of his classic exaggerated flirtations. all of their banters hinge on this joke and they’re very funny. but i’m always mildly stunned when i see people taking that as... zevran actually literally just being horny AGSHSKKSKS

i don’t think people give zevran enough credit for how clever he is at dancing around the other companions. nobody ever really gets one up on him. i can think of one specific instance in banter where i do think something gets under his skin, which i think oghren of all people manages essentially by accident the one time he’s actually not really trying

anyway: wynne opens their first banter with “you must know that murder is wrong, i assume.” it’s very wynne; she makes a judgement and announces it as fact. zevran is slightly stunned by this and also how funny it is: “i’m sorry... are you speaking to me?” with this incredible disbelieving pause because, like, he’s the party assassin. but he’s also playing for time quickly on how to react to this out of nowhere. wynne then explains the simple narrative she’s constructed that joining the party is due to a crisis of conscience on zevran’s part about being an assassin. and zevran immediately jumps into exaggerated agreement, and once he gets a better idea, the first of his flirtations with her, until she gives up in exasperation. it’s an evasion tactic zevran is very, very good at and has been doing to you, the player, since his first appearance on screen. he wants to play on the characters he performs when they’re useful shields, whether it’s the victim or the flirt or what have you. but also always with that ironic air that he’s clearly doing a bit; there’s the charm of letting you in on a private joke, but also he needs everything to be a faintly ridiculous game to him, so he doesn’t have to be affected

zevran keeps this joke up for the full extent of his banters with wynne through the whole game, because he finds it wildly entertaining, of course, and because he has no interest in ever inviting the conversation she wants. he so badly doesn’t want to deal with her asking this that he decides to run this bit into the GROUND, and starts doing it pre-emptively to ward her off even after she stops trying to instigate the conversation. bc wynne may be a good way off the mark, and, ironically for someone wanting zevran to take this seriously, not able to imagine that his life and feelings may be more complex than assumed (absolutely classic spirit behaviour once again), but she is needling at his reasons for leaving the crows, which is the last thing wants to be honest with anyone about

making the assumption that zevran is flirting with wynne out of genuine interest is, to me, the same mistake as thinking zevran when you first meet the warden is flirting out of genuine interest. this is how he knows to stay alive. if he let his guard down, he’d be dead; if he wasn’t charming, he’d be dead; and if he ever stopped to dwell instead of being the “eternal optimist”, always instinctually grasping at one more chance to live another day, he’d be very, very dead. he’s not going to casually discuss vulnerabilities for someone else’s peace of mind and he definitely doesn’t have the kind of insecurity to need to explain himself to people who don’t know him or what they’re talking about. so, rogue evasion abilities activate! it’s time for him to dodge! which is what he spends the entire series of banters doing. but also he’s just still finding it funny throughout. she just gives him so much ammunition. it’s like taking candy from a baby. zevran loves an old and terrible joke repeated for several months solid, they age like wine to him

i also think wynne’s comments are a light jab at how zevran does get read by players. he’s not ashamed of being an assassin. there’s this great line in one of his dialogues with the warden that asks why he shouldn’t continue to do what he’s good at when so few have come by his skills “honestly”, as he believes he has. there’s a tendency to characterise him and characters like him as, ah, the guilt-ridden victim in need of a pure-hearted saviour to show him the light, etc etc, but that’s never been who he is. there’s no ending where he suddenly quits being an assassin lmao

[starch1ldz]

Morgan: Well werewolf boy over here-

Wolfdog!y/n: For the last time, Agent Morgan, I and a wolfdog hybrid. Not a werewolf!

Morgan: I don't really see the difference.

Wolfdog!y/n: The difference is, werewolves don't exist. I was genetically engineered by scientists to be a weapon. Also, if I was a werewolf, I would have eaten you by now.

[vaguely-concerned]

every so often, varric will write a black fox story. not anything fancy or for publication or anything, just for fun and because he knows hawke has a soft spot for them. ("an intrepid hero getting into and out of all kinds of trouble and the merry band of misfits following inseparably in his wake? can't imagine why".) some of them are experimental, some of them are straightforward retellings; they're generally pretty short and quick to do, so he allows himself to play around with form and genre and language more than he does in his professional work. stretching over the span of almost twenty years as they do, they contain some of his favourite pieces of his own writing, and some of the most '...was I huffing lyrium fumes or drunk or both for this one, hawke? what the actual hell is this' pieces. hawke keeps every single one of them. varric speculates that this is either because they're just that sentimental, or possibly that it's for future blackmailing purposes. he usually has one ready for their birthday. they have so much blackmail material on him anyway by this point, he figures, what's one more piece of ammunition going to do one way or the other.

varric finishes one of these black fox tales a couple of nights before he brings rook with him to minrathous — the last one. it's about the very last black fox story, the one where the black fox and his friends all disappear together into the depths of arlathan forest, where those in the know say you can find them to this very day, if you know where to look, or if you ever find yourself in trouble and in need of a helping hand. they'll turn up to aid a traveller in need, and disappear back between the shaded trees again once the day is saved, squabbling all the way, seeking treasures and unlikely quests yet unfound and unimagined.

they say on some days, you can hear them as laughter and friendly bickering on the wind from a couple of clearings over. it's not the end, it's just other adventures, some other place. that's the thing about stories. they're funny that way.

(once he wrote a book for his mother on her deathbed and read it to her through the comfortless and drawn-out hours of the troubled nights, and he burned the book the day she died and never spoke of it again.)

after he finishes the manuscript, he sits with it for a long time in the quiet and the candlelight before he wraps it up properly and sends it off back home to kirkwall. he attaches a note -- a story, to the best of all my stories, the one I'd tell forever if I could. take care of each other while I'm gone. first one to arrive saves seats at the bar, right? happy birthday, and send all my lack of love to the merchant's guild, as always. —Varric

he sends that to hawke. just in case. and then he gets up and he goes to find rook — it's time to get going.

[zehl0w]

Very messy scribble of a comic because they were on my mind (I doubt I’ll ever clean it up so I’m just posting it now so it doesn’t rot in my procreate files LOL)

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

Secondo and Alpha be nastyyyyyyy (I LOVE their dynamic. This situationship is all I live for these days)

It's such a twisted thing to want, Alpha thinks, arms crossed in front of his chest in a way he's desperate not to qualify as defensive. Him, proud and independent as he is, craving what he knows is to come...fucking ironic. Alpha squares up his shoulders, hands flexing against his own biceps.

It's subtle, but telling. He's fidgety. Alpha's never fidgety. But they say exceptions make the rule, and this one might be it. It's infuriating, really, especially given that Secondo hasn't looked up from his paperwork once, in the twelve minutes Alpha's been there. He counted. The scratch of the pen against paper, the flickering light of the old desk lamp, the familiar scent of old wood and expensive cologne, it would be relaxing, if it weren't for the burning pit of anticipation in Alpha's stomach. As it is, it's just part of the agonizing torture Secondo is putting him through just by making him wait.

In any other situation, Alpha would have no issue standing stock still in complete silence for hours, but this setting, the reason he's here doesn't let him slip into the depth of his mind to cheat boredom. He has to stop himself from bouncing his leg, him. Alpha is definitely going insane.

The second the pen stops dancing across paper, Alpha straightens, internally wincing at the popping sound from somewhere in his back. Secondo finally, finally sets his paperwork aside, taking off his reading glasses with a relieved sigh. Alpha, unfortunately for him, finds his tongue too late to ask him to keep them on. Another time. A click of tongue refocuses his attention on the man behind the desk. Without a word, Secondo snaps his fingers and points down, one eyebrow raised expectantly.

The shame boils up in Alpha's throat, coats his mouth in a bitter taste, but guilty arousal sparks in his guts. His legs take him toward the desk, make him round it up until he's standing between it and Secondo's chair. Maybe if he words it like that, if he blames his knees for bending until he's on them before the second Emeritus brother, Alpha can pretend he doesn't have any choice, that something made him do it, but the truth is that he's totally in controll, muscles, joints and sinews perfectly responding to his lust-addled brain. Yes, Alpha is totally in control of himself, and is willingly handing over that oh so precious control to none other than Secondo Emeritus.

It's worth it, though, for the leather clad hand raking through his hair, thumb drawing circles on one of the shaved sides. Secondo hums, parts his legs a bit more so Alpha can scoot closer. The hand travels further, wraps around a horn, pulls Alpha's head back in one fluid motion. There is strenght in Secondo's grip, despite his human nature, something that almost feels unyielding, even though Alpha knows better. Knows that he could, technically, shake it off, lean away from it. He won't. He wouldn't even dream of it.

The base of his horns must glow especially bright tonight, because Secondo's mouth twitches before he hums.

"Long day ?"

Alpha groans when Secondo's touch shifts again, thumbs now digging into the tense muscles at the back of his neck. And if he arches into it like a giant cat, well. That's his problem, and his only.

"Long week. You ?"

"I'm considering arsenic poisoning. For myself."

The dry answer makes Alpha huff as he leans closer, nuzzling his face in Secondo's thigh, looking up at him through his lashes.

"Want some help unwinding ?"

Though his touch is still gentle, Secondo huffs, mask of disdainful coldness falling on his face in an instant. Alpha takes in a a lungful of air, far too aware of what that means for him. He shouldn't rejoice in the idea. (He does.) The switch has just been flipped, game on.

"And you are offering to provide said help ?"

The mocking tone has Alpha reajusting his position, definitely not squirming. Secondo clicks his tongue.

"Oh, you are. Cute."

It doesn't sound like a compliment, in his mouth. The word is venom-clad, sinking into Alpha's flesh like a shard of glass. He snarls in answer, but when Secondo takes the opportunity to hook a thumb in his mouth, sliding it along his gum, testing the point of thick fangs, Alpha goes against every single one of his instincts, staying still and docile, not even one attempt at biting Secondo's fingers off.

The leather taste of the gloves coats Alpha's tongue when the former Papa pries his jaws open, pushing down on the forked appendice with a hum. The way he looks down at Alpha- with that kind of dissmissive amusement one would direct at a stumbling puppy, still gauche on its too-big paws- anyone with half a braincell would know there is no metaphor less inadequate that this one to describe Alpha, and yet, it is indeed how Secondo treats him.

And the worst part ? Alpha likes it.

Drool pools under the fire ghoul's tongue, some starting to dribble from the corner of his mouth, making Secondo tut.

"So messy. But, luckily for you, I like it sloppy, and I'm willing to give you a chance to prove yourself useful. Aren't you grateful ?"

His brain now too foggy to wonder what in the living hell is wrong with him to want this kind of treatment, Alpha nods, eager for the former Papa's taste, skin burning and insides churning in the best way, the way he chases everytime he steps through Secondo's threshold. There is something weirdly freeing about being unable to do anything but nod, trusting the man holding him put to handle him. Handle him. Like the good guard dog he tries to be. Except right now, he doesn't have to make decisions, to look out for someone else, to be on high alert. He can slump under firm hands and let someone lift the weight of the worlds from his shoulders, at least for a little while, a small reprieve he needs so much more than he's comfortable admitting.

The hands leave Alpha, Secondo finally reaching for his belt, expensive leather making a soft sound against no less precious fabric as it's slipped out of the loops. Try as he might, Alpha can't help the way his ears twitch at that, tail traitorously wagging a few times. Secondo's condescending chuckle is back to taunt Alpha.

"Eager."

Alpha hums, too focused on the rasp of the former Papa's zipper, itching to fish the man's cock out of his boxers himself. Still, he let Secondo do it, until he's salivating at the sight in front of him, pleased to see the former Papa is already well on his way to hardness from just the sight of Alpha on his knees. Licking his lips, the fire ghoul looks up at Secondo, finding mismatched eyes already on him.

"Make it good, and maybe I'll make you cum tonight, mmh ?"

You don't need to tell Alpha twice. It's a powerful thing, want, the way it overrides everything when just at the right intensity, reducing a powerful hellbeast fuelled by infernal flames to a desperate little thing kneeling at the feet of a human man, a prayer in his eyes that for once has nothing to do with his religious beliefs.

Alpha cannot hold back his groan when he gets his mouth on Secondo, lips wrapping around the head with a wet sound. He isn't Dew, he isn't foolish enough to try and fully take him in one go. he has plenty experience, which is precisely why he doesn't do that. While the concept of a completely wrecked voice is sexy, he doesn't need to give Omega even more ammunition when the quint will inevitably corner him with glistening eyes asking him if he had an interesting night. So, Alpha takes his time, eases himself into it, coaxing Secondo to full hardness with careful licks as he gradually takes more and more of him, until the head hits the back of his throat, eliciting a low hum from the former Papa.

That may be what Alpha prefers in all this, the lack of urgency, how Secondo will make sure to call on him at the oddest hours to make sure they won't be interrupted, that they have all the time in the world.

For a while, the only sounds in the room are quiet groans and soft huffs, coupled with the wet noises of Alpha working his mouth around Secondo, letting it get a bit sloppy - for the enjoyment of them both. It doesn't matter that Alpha's hard and dying to get a hand on himself, something Secondo won't let happen, it doesn't matter that his knees ache dully or that his jaw is challenged and will certainly hurt afterward ; all that matters is that the fire ghoul's head is blissfully empty, his skin finally not feeling too tight for him.

There's no urgency, yes, but when Alpha hums low as he steadily bobs his head, Secondo's hand scrambles for a fistful of red strands, forcing the fire ghoul down with a breathy "just like that". Alpha's tail wags briefly, knowing the man's tells enough to understand he's starting to feel his climax approaching. It hasn't been so long, all things considered, which only makes pride fill the fire ghoul's chest. He did that. The thought has him being more thorough, hollowing his cheeks and teasing the head with his forked tongue.

"Fuuuuck," Secondo groans, "you might get something out of tonight after all."

It's close enough to a praise for Alpha to perk up, too relaxed by now to be embarrassed by such a response. It just is so hard to feel anything but contentement like this, Secondo heavy on his tongue, his scent all the fire ghoul can smell, his sounds all he can hear. Eyes half closed, muscles finally loose, Alpha hums again, and swallows, throat constricting around Secondo's cock, which earns him a string of italian curses his brain barely processes.

"C'mon, c'mon," and that breathy tone does catch Alpha's attention, ableit with some delay, "c'mon you mutt, almost there-"

The fire ghoul's eyes shamefully roll back at being called that, moan ripped from him before he can even register it, and it seems to be all Secondo needed to cum down Alpha's throat with a loud groan.

The fire ghoul let him come down from the high at his pace, taking the opportunity to watch Secondo's chest heave, his sweaty throat, the fluttering of his eyelids, the way his face went lax, creases and tense lines smoothed out by bliss. Once Alpha decides he's given enough time to the former Papa to recover, he takes to direct his attention back to himself with a cheeky flick of tongue against the oversensitive tip of his spent cock. Alpha is treated to a delicious hiss as Secondo flinches, gloves creaking as he white knuckles his armrest, glaring without real heat at the fire ghoul knelt between his legs. Alpha finally releases him, smiling unapologetically. Fuck, he's so hard still, and the sight of Secondo looking good enough to eat isn't making it any easier. The former Papa rolls his eyes, almost prompting Alpha to serve him some snark, until a perfectly blacked shoe lands on his crotch, sole grinding against his straining cock, and he forgets anything that doesn't have anything to do with the white-hot pleasure shooting up his spine.

Secondo smirks, eyebrow rising.

"Let's see how long it'll take for you to cream your pants, shall we ?"

[magnussonwilliam]

PONEDJELJAK, 13:12

[lloydfrontera]

my biggest gripe with the manhwa rn is that they made javier more of an asshole than he is in the novel and then took away most of the scenes where we see him being kind and soft with others.

javier can be an ass, he is a brat and he's especially annoying when he's with lloyd, but above anything else he is kind and loyal and selfless and good. i cannot emphasize enough how good javier is. he's the kind of person who cannot see someone in trouble or danger and do nothing about it. he's the kind of person who would sacrifice his life for total strangers and no hope of any reward. he's the kind of person who can't even enjoy a lavish party without feeling guilty because he'd much rather help people in need with that money.

he's so fucking good, lloyd is a little annoyed by it because he keeps getting dragged into life-threatening situations because javier just won't stop helping people they don't even know. mind you, lloyd is also endeared by this and would not want him to change but god can it be frustrating in his endeavor to keep them both alive.

there's this particular scene that i just. i'm so sad it was cut. where javier is helping around the refugee camp, going without sleeping and eating so he can focus on helping as many people as possible and then he spots a little kid that got lost on his way back. so he decides to help him.

and he's so gentle with this kid.

Javier walked over to the kid and called him. The flustered boy looked up. Javier strove to put on a warm smile on his face. "Are you lost?" “...” The boy nodded, his eyes all wet. Javier carefully stroked the boy's head. "I think I can help you with that. Why don't you let me help find your tent?" suggested Javier. “...” The boy nodded again. "But why didn't you eat the food? It's going to get cold. Are you not hungry?" "I am… hungry," the boy finally said. But what he said next caught Javier by surprise. "But I won't eat it," said the boy. "Why not?" "My mother is hungrier." "Is that so?" "Yes." “...” Javier wondered why this kid came out to take the food when he had a mother. There must be a reason, he thought to himself. He held out his hand. "I will hold the tray for you." "..." "I won't spill it. I promise." "Okay..." Javier took the tray and wrapped the boy’s hand with his own.

like. god. javier is not a naturally warm person. he's very reserved and stoic and sometimes outright cold, but he still tries so hard with this kid. because he knows what it's like to be him. he knows what it's like to be a child and be scared and hungry and without a home. and he remembers how much it meant for a kind adult to reach out a hand to him and help. and he wants to be that to others too.

everything he does, he does because he genuinely believes it's the right thing to do and therefore his obligation. and even when it doesn't come naturally to him, like being warm and gentle to a child, he still tries his best to do so.

and like that wasn't enough, when they finally find the kid's mom, javier finds out she's blind. recently blinded actually. that she used all her strength to get her child to safety and now she has to depend on him to take care of them because she can't do it anymore. her blouse is smudged with porridge.

so javier kneels down and explains who he is, why he's there and that he wants to help. he lifts up a spoonful of food and slowly and carefully starts to feed her himself. she's a complete stranger and javier doesn't hesitate one second to do this for her.

this is who javier is!! this is who he is at his core!! he's kind and he's selfless and he's above all else good!!

if your audience can't imagine javier comforting a child, then you failed your audience. you missed the point of his character.

[xbomboi]

apple: briar, remember when we first became best friends?

briar: only when i’m thinking about where my life went wrong.

[steamclouds]

Gromph Baenre and True Soul Nere commissions for @novarex !

[surreallyy]

Thinking about how Varric and Solas represent the two sides of Cole...and how that is much that same as Solas and Sera for a Dalish elf inquisitior. Solas representing your elven heritage, your connection to the fade. Sera representing your humanity, your connection to the people around you, the people you need to save. They both see you as being like them in some way but have completely opposite expectations of what that means, and if you lean into your Dalishness you end up disappointing both. Too elfy and never elfy enough.

[what-is-it-to-be-pk-esque]

Ok I know I'm heavily biased here but like I kinda love that Astarion's romance is one of the few in this type of video game where you basically end up canonically unmarried and childfree in his "good" ending? Just travelling the world??

Like it's honestly the millennial dream lmfaoo cannot believe i chose what would undoubtedly be my favorite option, first try

[artem1sc0re]

I’ve been reading Stars and Stripes since I got the novel and I’ve done nothing but giggle at the banter that goes down between Aiden and Jordi thank you tumblr for making me aware of this novel’s existence

I also doodled this one scene because I giggled at it and if I giggled at it I feel prompted to show it do you

The ‘scene’ in question:

‘When the waitress came back with fluffy pancakes stacked three deep, each as big as his plate, Aiden’s stomach growled.

Aiden stared at them with abiding love before pouring maple syrup all over until they turned from a light brown to a dark sodden colour.

“You are disgusting,” said Jordi who’d watched him drown in his breakfast with a horrified expression.