#zevran arainai x you

[eidothean]

My Crow Rook headcanon is that sometime during the story Rook goes home for family dinner and is like ‘… so I’m seeing someone … he’s a Dalish grey warden’ and Viago spits out a five hundred euro mouthful of wine (which Rook has poisoned just to see if he notices) and experiences one million catastrophic war flashbacks to the last time an Antivan Crow was ‘seeing’ a Dalish grey warden and gets up to find a quill to put a contract on Davrin’s life and Teia yanks him back by his coat and is like ‘ooh is that the handsome one’ and Rook is nodding enthusiastically while Viago stares into his dinner plate like it’s the abyss

[radiantlightxx]

"I think you're royally tough to kill...and utterly gorgeous."

I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that they're both beat to hell and back when Zev decides to turn on the charm and by god I love him for it.

[nohr-selphias]

"I love you, Zevran. I hope you know that."

"Yes... Yes, I know that."

— commission art by @sinizade, posted with permission

[itseghost]

they are talking shit (or flirting?)

[kiivg]

.A Royal Scandal.

[rin-hanarin]

Missing my Warden hours.

[fiannans]

Now that I've had time to think about it, I love the idea of virgin Lucanis actually, if only because it's a fun role reversal from my canon Warden's romance with my other favourite murder husband, Zevran, in DAO. My Cousland was a virgin before she caught feelings for the stupid sexy assassin sent to kill her and Zev was her first, just as my far more experienced Crow Rook is Lucanis's first in Veilguard.

I don't know, I just think it's a neat little role swap.

[ghostwise]

“As a promise” kiss for Hamal and Zevran? 🥺 pls?

“Antiva is like any other Andrastian nation,” Zevran said as they were packing to leave; packing lightly, for the life they were embarking on together would be full of hardship and danger. “We will not be permitted to carry weapons.”

“Obviously that never stopped you,” Hamal said, brow raised.

“Certainly not! You see, for the Crows, the authorities are more than willing to look the other way. A curious custom, though I understand there are precedents. Ironic, isn’t it, that we are setting off to do away with it?”

As he spoke, Zevran buckled a scabbard into place. He tightened the leather straps, making sure the hilt was easily accessible as well as hidden. Once secured, he grinned up at Hamal, and took a moment to admire the sight. “Comfortable?”

“Not at all,” Hamal scoffed.

Zevran kissed him. “You do not pass for a Crow.”

With that he turned away, fetching a blue waistcoat from the armoire. The style was a tad dated, but it was long enough, and a nice color on him. It would do. Hamal held his arms out, somewhat befuddled, as Zevran dressed him. When he was done, the Warden touched his fingertips to his vallaslin.

“No visible weapons,” he murmured. “I will need to leave my sword behind.”

“I am afraid so,” Zevran said gently.

“And my bow and arrows?”

“You need not leave them behind. You could pass for a hunter,” Zevran said. “It is not far from the truth, anyway. But we may be questioned, at times, so be ready.”

“The human cities are the same whatever country you are in,” Hamal replied. “I understand.”

A lull of silence met them. Zevran looked him up and down, his gaze lingering on the fading bruise on his right cheekbone, the stitches over his forehead, and the ribbons woven through his braids. The Blight’s memory was enormous, and it loomed over them, even now, weeks out from battle. But it was over; it could no longer hurt them, he had to remind himself. And yet here they were, preparing for another fight. Was it wise?

“You do not need to do this with me, amor,” he reminded him, his voice a whisper.

Hamal smiled, and stepped close to him. He grabbed his hands and kissed his battle-scraped knuckles and palms, until Zevran was holding his face and laughing.

“What was it you said to me?” Hamal asked him. “The gates of the Dark City itself?”

“For the chance to be at your side,” Zevran answered.

“Emma lath. Promise?”

And Zevran remembered it well: The way the air had smelled of smoke when he’d spoken those words, and the sound of war horns amidst the burning sun.

With all the fervor of that blood-soaked promise, Zevran kissed him.

“I promise.”

[chaoticbardlady99]

*cracks knuckles* alrighty- my shit job has come to an end and I now have two weeks of free time. However, my writer’s block is insane.

Please put some fic requests in my inbox if you have any! I need a warm up! Astarion is preferred, but I’m also a huge dragon age person and am willing to write for just about any one of those characters.

Smut, canon, etc- is all encouraged and if you want an OC thing, drop a description of their character and such and I would be happy to write a character x oc too :)

[a-gay-bloodmage]

"Against the Kitchen Floor" and Omri de Riva

At the urging of @queenofangrymoths, I have decided to post my song analysis of Will Wood's "Against the Kitchen Floor" as listened to through the lens of Omri de Riva, my dwarven Crow Rook.

His relationship with Neve, Scheherazade de Riva (QoAM's Rook), his mother, Lucanis, Viago, and himself, all come together to form a perfectly wonderful mush of self-loathing.

Hope you enjoy!

Trigger warnings for: discussions of suicidal ideation, past sexual assault as a minor, minor self-harm, child abuse, and general murder and violence.

Omri de Riva “Against the Kitchen Floor” Analysis

I don’t owe you my heart And I don’t owe you my body But you should know that I’m sorry For being careless with you

Omri tries, very hard, to see himself as a person. But it doesn’t really work. Usually, he sees himself as a thing to be given up for Contracts. The concept of I don’t owe you my heart / body is something that he tries to tell himself, but the sentiment usually rings pretty hollow. Leaving the Crows and being a part of the Veilguard is a massive culture shift for him. Being on “equal” grounds with people is strange. Neve, especially, isn’t his master. He doesn’t owe her his heart and body. Despite this, he still feels responsibility for potentially damaging her. It isn’t his place to be in a relationship with her, as he thinks it will only end in disaster. Despite that, he still went for it. He, as I said in “Fledgling,” kind of operates generally on the idea of a Crow takes what he can get.

Lord knows I owe you more Than I’m pretty sure I ever could give anybody But I can’t pin down what normal people want from foreign objects Bottom shelf erotic products like me

Neve, along with Varric and Harding, essentially freed him from slavery, and they don’t even know it. He has no idea how to make it up to them, if that’s even possible. Especially without admitting to his status within the Crows as a slave, a fact that he does find shameful. He has no idea how to express this gratitude to “normal people” like Neve. Neve being a Shadow Dragon, a liberator of slaves from Tevinter, only further complicates things. The concept of being a bottom shelf erotic product is both a dig at his own self-worth and his height. He is an object to be used for the pleasure and satisfaction of others, and he’s literally so low, physically, that most people don’t even see him amongst the dirt of the floor. 

So, I could hold your hand, but keep you at arm’s length Or hang me from a branch too high to climb and shake Less rare than scarce, less diamond than rough Unlikely to be more than just the coal you fail to crush, and

He does really want a relationship with Neve, but he can’t allow himself to really pull her tight to him in any way other than physically. And, even then, it’s only when they’re alone. He sees their relationship as mutually physical, but romantically one-sided. He fully assumes that she’ll end up with Lucanis. And why wouldn’t she? He’s more attractive than Omri is, higher-ranking, and human. 

The idea of hang me from a branch too high to climb and shake is a reference to suicide for him, since he’s absolutely passively suicidal. While he won’t go out of his way to kill himself, he won’t consciously try too hard to stop his death from happening. Just put him somewhere to rot and nobody will ever come and get him. He’s felt this way for as long as he can remember. 

The idea of being less rare than scarce is interesting, because he is rare. He’s not only a dwarf, a race with a very low population, but he’s a dwarven Crow. Those aren’t common. However, he’s also a casteless dwarf and a slave. He’s not a diamond, he’s just the dirt around it, and no amount of molding or pressure will ever turn him into something beautiful. His entire life, people have attempted to crush him, and yet he’s still alive but not any prettier. He doesn’t know why. 

I swear, I’m really trying Get it together, [Omri], know and do better It just don’t come natural to me to think that you’d want me for mе I swear, I’m really trying Oh, I’m sorry, I promise, I’m doing my best I just haven’t learned how to be human as you are yet

Especially after meeting Sherry—when he was twenty-four and she was twelve—he really does want to be a good person. The problem is that he doesn’t think he’s capable of it. He was too broken by his path to becoming an assassin. He bought into the Crow propaganda, into Viago’s grooming, until Sherry shook him out of it by the virtue of just being an innocent little girl. He thinks that being non-human is a stain against him. He’ll never fit into society, which he sees as a significant hurdle to not only being accepted as good, but accepting himself as good. 

I still don’t know who you are I only know that I’m still lonely That morbid sort where even company can’t cure me And the more you reassure, the less I trust

Omri feels like he can never truly know another person. Not entirely. Especially not Neve. She’s too… above him. She’s too reserved, too smart. And it’s isolating. He assumes that Neve is able to connect far better with someone like Lucanis, someone who shares something closer to her social status. Omri has this deep-seeded sense of loneliness that will never go away. He’s never had a friend, he was only treated truly kindly once before meeting Sherry. And the more people reassure him that they like him, the less he trusts it. After all, Viago told Omri that he cared for him, that Omri was his First. And that was all just a lie to keep him wrapped around Viago’s finger. 

But still you gave me your heart I only gave you my body Honestly thought nobody’d want it, let alone notice it’s gone And so I left it home, but now, now, now, now

Omri, as Neve starts potentially falling for him, feels deeply guilty. He doesn’t think she deserves to be in a relationship with an empty husk of a man, someone who isn’t capable of, in his mind, actually loving someone back. He can give her his body, sure, but that’s always been the case for the last twenty years of his life. He’s never seen himself as desirable, so thinking that Neve desires him, genuinely, and isn’t just using him as an outlet frightens him. 

I keep a locket with a picture on the back of my head Oh, monkey-wrench my side view mirrors, ghost my friends I’ve lived more lives than enough, I haven’t died quite as much But I’m not a real person, just the shit you can’t make up, and

Omri is constantly watching over his shoulder. He’s paranoid that the Crows will come back to get him. He has to cut off all contact with people to keep them safe. Sherry is, potentially, only alive because he’s not around her any more, after all. He does think he’s lived more lives than enough, yet hasn’t died enough. He’s lived through being homeless as an infant, basically homeless in Kirkwall, being a groomed slave, being a slave that was aware of that grooming, being, essentially, a mourning father after the loss of Sherry, and then being Rook. He, somehow, has lived through all of this. He doesn’t think he should have. Again, he barely sees himself as a person, and the idea that he’s just the shit you can’t make up makes sense for someone constantly being berated for his “unbelievably stupid decisions” by Viago. 

I swear, I’m really trying I’m just as exposed if I take off my clothes When we make the closest thing to love that I’m capable of And I don’t know why you would care But I’m really trying Oh, I’m sorry, I promise, I’m doing my best I just haven’t learned how to be human as you are yet

He truly doesn’t think he’s capable of making love due to his awful sexual history. He doesn’t know what consensual sex looks or feels like. Making love is something that should be reserved for the people who are capable of having people fall in love with them and then returning that love. He doesn’t think that’s him. Again, he thinks being non-human is a stain against him. 

Did I really have any of that gravity? Maybe you’re quicksand Because I really couldn’t tell How deep my footprints went The vertex of my redemption arc The searching on that virgin heart I’m catatonic in your arms Crying, “How did I cause so much harm?”

He thinks that, by “leading Neve on,” he’s irreparably damaged her. By sleeping with her and playing into this romance, he’s tread all over her heart when he didn’t ever mean to leave a footprint. The idea of him having a virgin heart is mostly sarcastic, as he thinks that his old infatuation with Viago as a teenager has forever stained him, making him incapable of having that redemption arc. The use of catatonic, specifically, makes sense for Omri. He doesn’t cry. Instead, he just feels dead and hollow and full of regret for hurting the people he never meant to hurt. He really is a Crow. All he knows is how to harm people. 

I’m down, pounding my head against the kitchen floor Apologizing for my life and ever entering yours Don’t say “I’m sorry, but this can’t go on” I know you’ve got scars of your own But hide my knives before you go I’ll either live or die alone

The idea of pounding my head against the kitchen floor checks for him. He’s far more inclined to enact physical violence on himself when he’s upset, as that’s simply what he’s used to. He was not only hit by his masters in the Crows, but by his mother when he was young. Apologizing for my life makes perfect sense, as he’s always been trained from birth to see himself as a curse upon others. His gender literally caused his former noble of a mother to be thrown out of Orzammar. Neve’s romance involves her not wanting to commit because she’s afraid of intimacy, and Omri almost resents that she is the one to voice it when, in his mind, she’s a million times more capable of being in love than he is. He knows there’s something that’s causing her to hold back, but he doesn’t know what. He knows for a fact, however, that he’ll try to keep her as long as he can, even if that means hiding [his] knives, aka, the reality of what it means for him to be a Crow. 

I swear, I will die trying I’m still in the process, but I’m making progress I promise, I honestly wanna prove improvement’s possible I swear, I’m so fucking sorry I’m not a good person, I’m barely a person at all But someday I’ll be perfect, and I’ll make up for it all

Omri is very, very willing to throw his life away for the sake of those he cares about. It’s not a large number of people, but it’s deeply significant to him. He wants, so badly, to be a good person, but he doesn’t think it’s possible. I’m not a good person, I’m barely a person at all is what would go through his head every time Sherry tried to insist that he’s good. He never believed it. It’s sunk in so deeply that, even if every member of the Veilguard thinks that he’s good, it’s not enough. Maybe, one day, but… not yet. But maybe, once he’s good, it will make up for the fact that he’s a filthy murderer. 

And write a fucking song about it ‘Cause it has to be all about [Omri’s] fucking drama Goddamn it! Sorry Fuck, I’m sorry

Omri, after thinking about all of this, just… hates himself for it. He’s survived by making himself the center of attention in order to distract from what he’s really doing. Playing the part of an opera-loving clown to hide his intellect and planning. And yet, despite this tactic literally keeping him alive, whenever it comes to bringing attention to himself for a non-murderous reason, he feels completely undeserving of that spotlight and attention. Especially if it brings sympathy along with it. He doesn’t deserve to be regarded as a person, and his problems are not worthy of being taken seriously. He feels selfish. 

[chonkymoth]

fictional relationships where the heart of their dynamic is unbreakable and undeniable devotion. either both people unto each other, or one to the other. the loyalty, the commitment, the promise beneath all else — I'll do anything for you and always be here beside you.

esp (!) if that devotion devolves into one of the characters becoming unhinged for the person they're devoted to, OR one person losing their grip on reality + becoming unhinged, and the other person acting as their tether, or at least trying their damndest to, even if they lose themself a bit in the process.

[wittyrogue]

i fucking love him so fucking much

[proffbon]

Local Dalish man discovers bisexuality (he's bisexual)

[pisscrossiant]

Imagine Alistair being so oblivious to the fact the F!warden and Leliana are together,

*Leliana and the Warden cuddling while Leliana plays with the Warden's hair*

Alistair: so Leliana do you have a bf yet :)

*cricket sounds*

Or imagine how oblivious he is to M!Warden and Zevran being together,

Alistair to Morrigan: Do you think the Warden has a gf yet?

*The Warden and Zevran making out in the background*

Morrigan: ... Bitch turn around.

Alistair: *Turns around* they're such good friends :)

Morrigan: you really are dumber then the dog.

[unlikelysaintdelele]

Back on my Warden Amell bullshit!

I always knew Adalia was just the first draft of my canon playthrough. Being an Amell, she has a blood connection to Hawke, which is such a cool detail—and Cullen’s crush on female Amell adds another connection I enjoy. But as I’ve refined her character, I realized she wouldn’t actually fall for Alistair.

She hates (loosely used) nobility in terms of social structure and how it pushes people into doing something they don’t want simply in the name of blood, which is why she didn’t want Alistair to become king. He LOVES being a Grey Warden, why would she take that away?

Plus, she dreams of travel and adventure, craving stories from beyond Ferelden, which led her to bond deeply with Zevran and Leliana. She got so engrossed in their stories that I accidentally made Zevran catch feelings—a situation I had to quickly shut down since I was very calculatingly romancing Alistair. Still, Zevran wanted to follow her anywhere, and I keep noticing how perfectly they fit together. Adalia adored his humor, and her flirty, playful nature complements his so much better than Alistair’s would.

And on top of that, her cousin Hawke also pursues a fair-haired elf! Alistair just feels better suited to someone else—maybe a dwarf or human noble.

[lottiesnotebook]

the kick inside (11/30)

Fandom: Dragon Age (Origins) Relationships: Morrigan/Female Tabris Rating: Mature Summary: Luna reaches the Temple of Sacred Ashes, and confesses some harsh truths to her friends on the way.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she almost wanted to flinch from it, as if kindness would destroy her when disgust could not.

“And what,” Zevran said, too gently, because he knew, of course he already knew, “did this Arl’s son do to you, Luna Tabris, to earn such a fate?”

Her lips felt numb, as though the words came from another: “He took what wasn’t his.”

A Dragon Age Origins AU - Updates Sundays

Read on AO3

Beta read, as always, by the insightful @miladydewintcr. <3