but alistair is better

anonymous asked:

Can I request DAI party banter with a zevran that romanced a warden who's still alive?

As you wish, my dear anon! I’m sorry this has taken me a while to get to! There are just – so many possibilities given the many Origin’s in DA:O and the many fate’s of the Warden, even if they live. I hope these satisfy. 


If the Warden is King or Queen via any means. 

Cassandra: You are the lover of a monarch?

Zevran: (laughs) Oh yes. Why? Does it bother you Seeker?

Cassandra: I – I don’t know. I can’t decide if it is romantic – or terrible. 

If the Warden married Alistair to be Queen

Zevran: If it makes you feel better we are all quite friendly and close to one another. 

Cassandra: Close? How do you mean, close exactly?

Zevran: My dear Cassandra! Tsk tsk tsk, and here I thought you were a woman of faith! Asking for all the sordid details!

Cassandra: You are a menace.

Zevran: *sighs*

Cassandra: Does something trouble you, Zevran?

Zevran: Only that it has been six month’s since I have seen my warden. You know last time we were apart this long they hunted me down in an Antivan whorehouse and yelled at me for ten entire minutes? 

Cassandra: Why do I have a feeling that I’m going to regret asking? 

Cassandra: Why were you in a brothel? 

Zevran: Why I was visiting family of course! 


Varric: So, tweety. What’s this I heard about you and the Hero of Ferelden? *laughing* How did you two even meet?

Zevran: Ah, now that is a good story in fact! A rather taciturn sallow-faced fellow named Loghain –

Varric: – Trust me tweety, I’ve known enough Ferelden’s to know who you’re talking about. 

Zevran: Oh, good! Well, he hired me to kill the Warden. And Alistair, of course.

Varric: I’m sorry, you met by trying to kill them?

Zevran: (laughs) Ah, yes. It was a wonderful battle! Well what I saw of it anyway. Knocked me unconscious two minutes in. Lucky for me I was too charming to kill.

Varric: And now the two of you are lovers? *under his breath* and I thought Hawke’s love affairs were strange… 

Zevran: I hear you’re writing a romance serial my clever friend. 

Varric: Don’t try to butter me up, Tweety. And especially not over that pile of nug shit. Who even told you about it, Cassandra? 

Zevran: Ah, sadly no. Well, unless you count how I stole the copy from her pack, but that’s our secret, hm? I was merely wondering if you might like a few – pointers, so to speak. 

Varric: I’m not sure I want to go airing the sexual escapades of the Hero of Ferelden in my books – I like being alive. 

Zevran: *sighs* too bad for you then. My warden and I are very interesting people you know. 

Varric: Trust me, I can do without the details. 

anonymous asked:

I was wondering if you could recommend any comics that have a mobster/gangster vibe or that deal with delinquent teenagers?

Hmm… this one’s difficult, mostly because I don’t already have a tag on the tagpacker I can use to cheat. Here are some that might be what you’re looking for:


Griefer Belt: Griefer Belt is a slice of life series about queer criminals in the black market! Light-hearted dark humor ensues!

Rechargeable: The Immortals are an Australian crew of criminals, doing their best to get by in the underbelly of New Portland. The year is 2100, and the intentions are very dubious.

Four Corners: Set in 1995, Yokohama, as two unlikely delinquents pair up to solve the mystery of why gangs in the city are being brutally disbanded.

NINE STONES: Disturbing dreams shake Alistair “Allie” Jacobi’s nights. But his daytime life is not much better. His father, the boss of a criminal organization, has decided that it’s time for his son to gain experience in the underworld. So Allie, 19, finds himself doing an “internship” in a convenience store run by the man who, under the cover of home deliveries, is selling drugs to the entire city. To teach him the “job” is Christopher, an older guy. The bond created between the two of them will give life to dark presences and disturbing and enigmatic premonitions.

Fishbones: Fishbones starts in the year 1999 in the fictional, east coast city of Southport. The story is about growing up, friendship, and sometimes the mob.

Delinquent teens:

Zoo Academy: Zoo Academy is a LGBT orientated high school comic about inhuman and criminal kids trying to fit into the society that looks down at them.

Breaks: A love story…but a little broken.

Everyone wears a mask. What we see of people on the surface is so rarely what’s ticking underneath. And, in Cortland Hunt’s case, what he’s hiding might just be more than Ian Tanner is prepared for.

Breaks is the story of two young adults coming to terms with who they were, who they are and who they’ll become.

Long Exposure: Long Exposure is an ongoing webcomic about a nerd and a bully who are forced to work on a class project together. The story revolves around them developing super powers after an incident at a strange research center, and finding themselves followed by a mysterious car, overcoming personal challenges, and (most importantly) discovering how gay they are for each other.

prompt: #8 “Don’t touch him!” 
pairing: destiel
tags: bullying tw, punk!cas, hurt/comfort, violence tw, high school au
a/n: why do I always write about alistair being a bully, where is my inspiration
for @envydean

“Alistair, please-”

“You think you can come away with begging, you little faggot?” Alistair scoffed as he pushed Castiel further up against the wall. 

He scraped Castiel’s back against the rough stone, not caring that the other whimpered and hissed. His jacket lay useless on the ground, covered in mud, so his bare arms scratched against the wall as well. A few guys stood around, laughing but not doing anything.  "I don’t fall for those pretty blue eyes, you know that right? I’m not a weirdo or a freak, like you.“

While Castiel thought Alistair was exactly those two things, he thought it was better not to say so, seen his situation. If he had a little more muscle, he’d give Alistair a few good punches in the face. He huffed, he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

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Team CFVY aesthetics

Confession:  I always try to just blank my notps and be that responsible dragon age fan but… why do people still ship Alistair/Anora? He will literally murder her father in front of her eyes, his blood with splash on her face. Anora begs for mercy. Unless Alistair gets to see Loghain dead, he will literally abandon you on the eve of battle. He’s also totally fine with starting a coup and claiming her throne and locking her up. Anora deserves better.

Some Rain Must Fall

Alistair and his fellow warden end up caught out in the middle of a rather fierce rainstorm and must find shelter in the forest until it blows over.

Alistair x Surana (pre-relationship, fluff, pining, adorable)

Read here on AO3 instead.

The camp was a small, inconsequential journey away from the river.  They had learned early in their travels that setting up too close to a fast-moving river could disguise the sounds of anyone wishing to attack them in the darkness of night.  Thus, it was necessary to send a group to carry water back each night.  The two Wardens always seemed to volunteer when the job was proposed.

Alistair crested the hill, adjusting the skins full of water over his shoulder so they did not cut into his muscles as deep.  The younger Warden beside him was struggling with her own burden.  She had insisted on carrying her own fair share and was now finding the task more than she had fathomed.

He slowed his pace until he felt as if he were walking on top of his own feet.

A bag slipped and dropped off her shoulder again, tripping her up and almost sending her sprawling to the ground if he had not caught her by the arm.

She threw the rest to the ground with a scowl, kicking at the side of the one that had fallen first. It rolled over, bloated with water, but did not further protest her mistreatment of it.

He dropped his cache beside her own and flopped onto the ground, leaning back on his arms with a theatrical groan.  He stretched his legs out, imagining he was back at camp and could free his feet from the confines of his boots.

“I was hoping you’d call a break,” he remarked without preamble.

He kept his eyes fixed on the sky, watching his pouting companion from only from the corner of his vision.  It was best to let her be when she was frustrated like this.  She stared at him, the anger ebbing from her tense shoulders. Finally, she sat beside him, curling her legs beneath her with a hefty sigh.

Their reprieve was short. The wind picked up, kicking leaves and other detritus into their hair and eyes.  A bundle of somber grey clouds sailed over the horizon of trees like a fleet of dark ships.  The sun was hidden in their wake, casting unnatural shadows over the landscape below.

Alistair pointed out over the tree line, shielding his eyes with a forearm from the wind.  “Looks like a storm is coming in.  We’d better get back.”

He hopped to his feet and began gathering up their baggage, taking a few extra than before and hoping she would not chide him for it.

“It looks pretty wicked up there.”  He gave himself a little chuckle, crossing the straps so they would not slide off his back.  “I wonder if Morrigan is going to fly around inside of it?”

There was no reply. He glanced back over his shoulder. Astaria had not moved from the spot she had plopped down on earlier.  She was transfixed with the storm that was encroaching on them with frightening speed, her head turned up to the sky in wonder.

He called her name, drawing out some of the syllables to make it into a little song to gain her attention.

She looked up at him and stood, a little sheepish at her wool gathering, but hesitated in picking anything up.  The clouds distracted her again, drawing her gaze out over them as they boiled in the atmosphere above them.

“Could we stay, Alistair?” She gestured out with an open hand, as if trying to convince him of the majesty of the scene.  “I’d really like to see it.”

The wind whistled up the hill to them and the smallest spattering of drops fell against his forehead. He shifted, glancing from her to the storm and back.  He found himself with an agreeance on his tongue, even while his head warned that the clouds looked like the beginnings of something serious.

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In vitamins, fortified.

Have some disgustingly adorable modern Alistair x Warden being all domestic and… adorable.

Alistair found himself bouncing on the balls of his toes as the smaller woman beside him scrutinized the back of the cereal box.

“No, no – too many carbohydrates.”  She slid it back onto the shelf with the rest of the boxes of Cap’n Isabela O’s; with it went all of his high seas plans for the send-away captain’s hat.

He gave a weary sigh and scouted out further down the aisle, out pacing her in only a matter of steps. She trailed along at a leisured pace, focused on the colorful boxes shouting their slogans down at them.

One stood out among the others, he grabbed it off the shelf with an amazed gasp.

“Oh!”  He spun the box of Quinari Crisps around so she could see the front.  “Look at this one!  It comes with an inflatable sword!”

She squinted at the box before shaking her head.  “That’s more food coloring than food!  And besides, you have real swords at home.”

He drooped and tucked it back onto the shelf with its brethren, mumbling something about never having enough swords away from her ears.

The cart finally caught up to him, the woman pushing it along still captured by all the different options of breakfast cereals.  He sidled up beside her and with a great over-dramatic yawn slipped his arm over her shoulders, as if he were some sly high schooler putting the moves on his naïve date.  She flashed him a suffering smirk.  He moved in to steal a kiss, surreptitiously extending his arm to knock a box of Golem Grahams into the cart.

It was a bold and stupid move.  She elbowed him in the side and shoved the box back onto the shelf.

“Alistair!  We’re trying to eat better!”

“Yes, but now? Couldn’t we eat better after shopping?”

She sighed as they neared the end of the aisle, taking down one last box and handing it to him. “Here.  How about these?”

“Warden Bran?”  He pouted at her.  “But bran is for old people.”


He flipped the box over to read from the back.  "In vitamins, fortified.  In fiber, packed.  In fat, low. Who writes this?”

She grabbed the box from his hand and threw it into the cart.  The stack of items within shifted with the extra weight and slid into a small landslide, revealing an orange box at the bottom.

“What’s that?”

He leaned in and hoisted the box up out of her grasp as she went to grab it before he could reach it.


“Marshmallow Cocoa Nugs!” A chiding tone edged into his voice.

“You… you must have put those in there!”  She swatted at his arm, but he maneuvered it to the side.  

“Oh, did I?”  He grabbed her around the waist with one arm, picking her up and setting her back on her feet so he stood between her and the shelf.  “Well, I’ll just put these back then.”  He set the box up on the upper most shelf, far from her reach.  The mascot nug on the box, a large ribbon around its neck, looked almost sad all alone among the granola cereals banished to the top rack.

“Well, that’s just excessive.”  She tried to step around him and back to the cart, but he stopped her with a smothering bear hug.  This time no sugary cereals snuck their way into their shopping.  She gave a bit of a squeak, but returned the sudden hug.

“Alright.  Eating better.”  He gave a brief sigh and took up pushing the cart.  “Let’s go find the lettuce.”