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@selfishisuppose
better to be in the fold than out in the wilds ? for a SHEEP , that is
EST . ‘ 15
multiverse & multiship roleplay blog for DORIAN PAVUS from bioware's dragon age series , mun & muse are 30 + resurrected by anna .
my blog is so broken after a 5+ year hiatus , bear with me while my CARDD becomes more than a rough draft
RULES , BIO TBA , VERSES TBA
❀‧̥ — memes / accepting!
@selfishisuppose said: * Does a flirty lil nobleman wave *
the winter palace had proven itself to be every bit as bright and opulent as elspeth expected it might be. it seemed that every surface glittered in the light of many sconces and chandeliers. even her own gown and mask, fashioned to mimic the brilliant, sweeping feathers of a peacock, reflected and refracted the shivering firelight in a way most eye-catching. but of course, the entire purpose of wearing such a frock was to draw attention away from the inquisitor and onto herself—and it appeared to have worked thus far.
still, elspeth remained less than comfortable in court, however good she had become at hiding it behind pleasant smiles and indulgent nods—and, in this case, a well-crafted mask cleverly affixed to a wand so she could lift it to cover the top half of her face as desired.
it was as she was lowering the mask and turning away from the end of yet another conversation about who had made her dress that elspeth caught dorian's eye across the room. he lifted a hand, wiggling his fingers in a teasing wave, and she arched a brow. she made a quick show of glancing behind her to check that the gesture was intended for her, then crossed to join him leaning up against the wall.
“you look like you're having about as much fun here as i am,” elspeth said as she came to his side. she paused to take a sip of wine from her cup, gazing out at the crowd of nobles interspersed with tray-bearing servants. “this has always been my least favorite part of being nobility...but i suppose the penalty for growing up rich is that you must deal with the wealthy.”
While this felt very much like home, he was aware that that wasn't the case for most of the people the Inquisitor brought along. And yet he felt so alive here, wasn't it for the silly outfit that was so far from anything he'd usually wear, stiff and Southern and all in all annoying him with how it resembled a military uniform. Or maybe he was getting bored with his current conversation when little things like that bothered him, maybe that was why he had started looking around.
Looking around paid off however, and he caught the eyes of pleasant company, giving a brief apology to current company as he waved at her, grinning at her reaction that had him move to a slightly more private wall, apparently aiming to become a wallflower.
She made him chuckle, "oh, I suppose it's the price we pay, yes," but it meant that he got to keep her as company, and now they both had a friend at their side who would make the evening much better. "It can be fun, have you tried those little finger foods? So Orlesian, but the tiny pancake with sour cream, red onion and caviar is absolutely divine with that crisp white wine," he said, maybe to say something pleasant as she looked thoroughly overwhelmed by it all.
"I think my least favourite part is the one where every available lady is eyeing me like I could become part of some collection. A husband, lover, son-in-law. It's quite the meat market, and they seem to think I've a price tag attached."
He'd known, of course, that apparently the man before him had been interested long before they'd gotten together but it hardly ever made the statement any less surprising. Alistair could never view himself as any of those things - suave, gallant, a good king. That Dorian saw him as such and chose to be with him. Alistair pulled the mage tightly against himself, holding him in an embrace as he simply let the moment sit between them. There was no way Alistair could express how grateful he was to the other man after all, and Dorian's claims all left him chuckling lightly.
"I never imagined for myself something like this," he confessed. "Getting to be happy, having somebody I adored and who adored me back. I told myself it was pointless to even consider it, much less… you. Having… everything I could ever want. Varric's stories were just that - stories that don't actually happen. And I'm still terrified you're going to end up terribly disappointed. All those high aspirations and I'm just here being… me. If anybody is going to be portrayed as the schoolboy in this situation, it's going to be me - lucky man that I am. It's a wonder the court can't already tell for how much I find myself looking at you."
Which was a valid concern, given Dorian's fears about their relationship getting out. They were both very visible and important people, and any fallout from the two of them getting out could hurt the Archon or himself. Alistair understood that much, even if he didn't like that they had to hide until they worked out the details.
"I'll be smarter about it," he promised. "We'll be smart about it. Today we'll have breakfast in the seating area, all proper and boring. My valet can get you fresh clothes in private, and we'll look like we've spent the morning in very important discussion. Then afterwards… afterwards maybe the fun part instead."
He grinned, now more pleased with himself and the plan than he had right to be. "But just so you know," Alistair continued. "That when we do decide to let this out, I'm not going to be downplaying any of it. There isn't going to be any question just how much you mean to me, you can believe it."
This time Dorian was the one blushing, but perhaps it wasn't due to the praise, but the idea of the two of them — together. He'd never had anyone like that, anyone to call his, just like Alistair there hadn't been a serious relationship, though it was in some part a surprise to hear that there had been none for Alistair. After all he could be exactly who he wanted to be. Then again, sometimes you just didn't meet anyone that felt like home.
"Oh, I travelled with him enough to know that while the stories are fiction he draws from fact," he said, the wet cloth dropped back into the washing basin, and trailed fingers down his stomach.
He looked into his eyes, warm and welcoming, and smiled at how easily he was agreeing to what so many hadn't. It wasn't that he wanted to hide their budding relationship, he simply wanted them both safe, and he leaned in, placing a peck on his lips. "I apologise. For coming with strings attached like this," and maybe some day they could step out there, hand in hand. It was a lovely thought.
For now he wanted to enjoy the good parts though, and stole another quick kiss. "I am looking forward to a full breakfast here in your chambers though, and whatever may follow," which was much better than his gloomy thoughts of what he couldn't be for Alistair, instead focusing on what they had, and that was a wonderful beginning relationship that he could easily imagine blossoming.
He ducked his head lightly in embarrassment. Even after all their time seeing each other it still made Alistair blush to hear Dorian compliment him so casually, as if his attraction was inevitable and his affection unending. It was, he'd come to learn, but that didn't make it any easier to believe.
"At least one of us enjoys it," he commented, quickly trying to move the subject on before the mage tried to compliment him more. They could go on for days exchanging love sonnets but it always made him blush. This at least was easier. "I'd be drowning without you to help me through this."
Because Dorian truly did have a gift for leadership, one Alistair had been forced to hammer into his own life. Organizing, seeing the bigger picture, understand the people - it all came easily to his lover in ways it didn't for him. "You're brilliant at this, you know," he told him. "Leading people and making them believe in something better. I admire that so much about you - " and he didn't just mean himself, since he'd been invited - "so I'd love to join you at the festival. Get to watch you work in real time."
But it wasn't just about getting to watch him excel. It was also a pleasant buzz in his chest knowing that Dorian wanted his company, was inviting him to his own home to appreciate his own culture with Alistair. It meant more that way, knowing he was wanted. He suddenly couldn't wait to spend the time browsing the markets and admiring the blossoms with his love.
"I'd make such an excellent prince consort," he said with a grin, not that he was suggesting marriage just yet, but it was a thought. Was he not Archon these days? Who could tell him what to do, and who would dare to go after him for a union to the King of Ferelden? Sure, it was terrifying, he was used to keep his affairs.. private. This would be a wildfire, it would change the political landscape in Thedas.
Maybe he should start slow and take Alistair home, see how he fared in Tevinter as his private guest before considering something so radical. "It's not a lot of work, it's a labour of love at most, but I do adore that silly little festival," he did since he was a kid, and it would be magical to share it with the man he so wanted to share his life with, however terrifying that at times seemed.
Dorian stepped closer, cupping his cheek, but he didn't make Alistair look at him, instead he kissed him softly on the lips. "I think it's when Tevinter is most beautiful, the orange flowers really marks the beginning of our best season, everything is so lush and green," and there was a certain joy in the air, a lightness when summer was just beginning. If he wanted to show that to anyone it was the man standing there with flushed cheeks, warm, and so wonderful even if he hardly saw that himself, ironic for a man with so much power, who was so beloved by his people.
@bloodlaurel from HERE ( happy sinday ! )
How did anyone go about telling Jasper that he was no less loveable, just because there was half a limb less of him? It was a question he'd pondered ever since Jasper was no longer in physical distress, but the emotional one had taken over. His identity had been in his physical capabilities, and now he had been reduced to a moping couch potato full of self pity. Which was of course alright, he had a right to his feelings, but there was a thin like between that and slipping into something far worse than the current dark cloud looming over him.
So he took things in his own hands, and for a while that was like biking up a steep hill with a heavy backpack, but a little here and a little there did wonders, like learning that he could now freely take the metro, that so many museums offered free passes as well, and Dorian did his very best to go with him when he could. It had after all been on one of those trips that he earned his first kiss post-accident.
Jasper's love language was a physical one however, which made it so hard to make him feel loved when he didn't feel comfortable in his own body.
" 𝑾𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒚. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒃𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒅. "
Saelena Orisini de Riva a Crow Mage Rook Found on foxglovecrowns. loved and crafted by jackie.
open starter » rhys.
he hadn't thought that there would be so many escaped drow on the surface, but he was one of them, so maybe he should have. five or more years had passed since he'd last served lolth -- literally the blink of an eye in the long, long lifetime of a drow -- but the reputation lingered. the other drow had taken one look at him, turned pale. like they had run into death itself, and quickly retreated in the opposite direction.
rhys drew in a deep breath, exhaled it slowly. recent. at times, menzoberranzan felt like the sweat sticking to the back of his neck. at times, it felt like a lifetime ago, a different era of a life belonging to a different man. but the look at that other drow's face told him that his flesh may have left the underdark behind, but the memory of what he'd done had not.
he did not look at his companion beside him. “go on,” he said quietly. “ask.”
There was a certain.. air about the odd encounter, and while Rhys looked far from pleased, he clearly did expect some sort of repercussion from outnumbering the one human in the current company with another drow.
Words could be had, but he wasn't so sure he wanted to poke at what was clearly a sore subject. Rhys wasn't the first drow he'd seen, and while they were hardly as common as their more pale cousins, even in Baldur's Gate. But that wasn't it, was it? Dorian liked to think he was more perceptive than that, and something else than recognition of a kinship he could hardly understand had passed between them.
"No, not here," it was hardly the place, but maybe when they made camp later, when whatever that passed between the two had some distance from Rhys, something he'd have appreciated if the roles were reversed. "Unless you expect me to ask if you're alright, then please share."
@deathlieg said: ” Oh please! There is always a contest with an ex it’s called “who will die miserable”. (shout out to that orlesian art appraiser that's still catching strays decades later)
While Dorian was definitely in the market for gossip, he didn't expect a personal anecdote hinted at, but it made the Magister snort, tempted to share stories. Much had happened since they first met, and back then it would have been deeply inappropriate to talk about eithers love life.
Things had luckily changed since, and he was no longer the angry and bullheaded student he'd been back then. Speaking of bulls however.. "Oh please, I'm sure you have excellent stories about exes. As a matter of fact I have some myself, and one in particular who actually died quite miserable. Or at least I tell myself that," he'd spent a lot of time with the Inquisiton staring far too deeply into a bottle, and on one of those nights he'd fallen into bed with someone he wouldn't have considered sober. "A Qunari spy, would you believe that? Me, a Tevene, at the time still son of a living magister. Oh, the gossip that would have caused back home, but anyway, I suspect it was all for information, and he turned against the Inquisiton — an embarrassing mess that I can luckily laugh about at this point in my life," yet it still stung to think about what could have happened if the Iron Bull showed his true colours even later than that.
✦ An independent Ryland Grace from Andy Weir's Project Hail Mary. Please read rules and about before following. Promo PSD Credit & Art Credit.
My seat finally gives out. I hear the pops as the anchor points shear off. I fall forward, into the screen, still strapped to the metal seat, which crushes me from behind. The chair probably doesn’t weigh much in normal gravity. Maybe 20 kilograms. But with this much centripetal force, it’s like having a cement block on my back. I can’t breathe. This is it. The weight of the chair is so much I can’t inflate my lungs. I get dizzy. Mechanical suffocation, it’s called. It’s how boa constrictors kill their prey. What an odd thing to think as my last thought. Sorry, Earth, I think. There. Much better last thought.
He behaved, Jasper wanted to say. Before he could answer, Dorian was at his side and trailing his hand over his thigh. That just made the slowly simmering want even worse. Goosebumps lifted where his hand had trailed ending with a squeeze of his thigh that made Jasper bite his lip.
And at the kiss his phone was abandoned entirely. He swiveled around to sit on the edge of the bed and moaned when Dorian's teeth sank into his bottom lip. He was cruel, likely knowing that he was pent up and eager but Jasper liked it when he was a bit mean. It made things fun.
But he had an idea of some more fun they could have...if Dorian was willing to play along with him.
Dorian looked up when his fingers was caught, way too occupied with the destination it seemed, and not the way there, pausing as he admired him. There was plenty to admire, and Dorian grinned at him, the flush on his cheeks was beautiful, and there was a desperation in his eyes that made him want everything he could ever have with him.
Doctor. Not Dorian. That was a curious choice of words though, and he knew to an extent what it was that Jasper wanted from him. "Oh? How are you, is there anything I need to take a look at then," he said, hand lowered from his own chest and onto Jasper's thigh, rubbing it as he looked at him.
"Hm, you're definitely flushed," and for a moment he wondered if there was an actual problem, but if there was he surely wouldn't be so formal about it. The doubt was enough to make him pause though, and he cupped Jasper's cheek. "Just for my peace of mind, a real situation, or are we playing?" He didn't want to make this weird in case there was a struggle, and he didn't want to diminish that by giving Jasper what he thought he wanted, and not what he needed.
Alistair was surprised to find that where he'd been silly, Dorian had been sentimental. The truth caught him completely off guard, making his breath hitch as he stared at the brunet in his arms with widen eyes and a slightly slacked mouth. "Dorian…" he murmured. "That's - I - I've never had this before. Where it just works and I don't have to think about it worry that I'm doing something wrong."
He reached up to cup the other man's face, forcing another shift between them that pulled a quiet sound from him. "You're right, though. It feels… natural. Like we've been doing this forever, or like it was…" Maybe the Excalibur reference hadn't been so inappropriate after all. They did fit together as if they had been meant to, both mentally and physically. It was a feeling he'd never experienced before, one that left him craving it more and more of it every time they were together.
He kissed Dorian back then, unable to find the words to speak out loud for what he meant. He could only hope that his lover would understand what he meant. "If Captain America does show up," he says instead, "then he's welcome to try. I'm not letting him anywhere near us."
Was it so odd that he had been genuine in a way? It was a silly thing to say, but he had a point, and he smiled at his lover, and at the gentle touch to his face when things turned different than the passion that had been there not long ago, though it had made way for something else, something wonderful.
It was a sensitive subject, in the way that their hearts were on the line here, and he dug his fingers in for a moment when Alistair shifted, biting his lip. "Right? I've had.. my fair share of lovers, but this is something else," a proper connection in several ways, one that he found himself more fond of than he had imagined he would when they first met.
"You know, while I doubt Captain America is the least bit interested in our pastime shenanigans I'm very surprised this turned into more than one wild night," he continued, "I mean, a firefighter and a doctor? We sound like some bad porno."
He snorted at Dorian's impatience at the Venatori, who were standing around, doing little of interest at the moment besides be in the woods in the deep dark before the break of dawn. He, too, would like them to do something interesting, or at least, something worthy of action. Alas, the cultists seemed determined to keep their own, soporific timetable.
"Why not, me in Minrathous?" he asked with a roguish grin, nudging Dorian with his elbow fondly. It was much nicer to think about how a trip away might work, than sit miserable and tired and thinking about how much he missed his warm, dry bedroll. "I hear it's the place to be in Tevinter for culture. I could go there on a diplomatic excursion, see what the Tevinter high-society life is like, then dress down so no-one would ever recognize me and see what the night-life had to offer. You could show me all the best spots. The only thing I see holding us back is how far away Tevinter is." The last bit, he said with tongue firmly in his cheek - there were, of course, a million reasons why not.
It was amusing to think about how scandalised everyone in the south would be by it too - the Orlesian Chantry, standing behind unsheathed fans, gasping at how thoroughly debased their precious Inquisitor was. Imagining his escape from the constant need to live up to their expectations was refreshing. He hated having to mantel the faith he'd lost, he hated not being able to focus on his job of healing the sick, and he hated having to mollify the nobility that wanted to control him. Courting Tevinter for aid would certainly be a middle finger to all those expectations.
And it'd be fun. He didn't even remember what fun felt like.
Dorian rolled his eyes at that idea, "sure, you'd fit right in, at least you're a mage or I'd be laughing stock, spending my time with someone far below my station," he whispered back, not wanting to be caught from their snooping post.
Sometimes he missed home, and as fun as this hypothetical was, it was very unlikely to actually happen. He would hardly be with high society anyway, one because he might be a mage, and the Inquisitor too, but as far as Tevinter was concerned that wasn't their problem, he'd hardly heard from anyone else, and they could have been here. Then of course there was the Venatori, which he supposed represented them whether or not he agreed.
"Yes, we should do that one day, when you've fixed things here, maybe then you'd be welcomed among the high and mighty," he's not sure that he himself would be as welcome, he'd made his bed when it came to what he wanted from Tevinter.
Something was happening at camp though, one of the Venatori stepping away, possibly to go piss. "So, Jack.. That's an opening. Are we moving, or listening for anything in particular?" His knees were sore, and he was pretty sure they were out of listening distance if they could talk this freely.
@valorcorrupt asked: “ Wardens don’t save everyone. ”
He'd never be the sort of man to tell a woman that she would look better with a smile on her face, but sometimes he wondered if this particular Warden had smiled for years. Inara had seen a lot of ugly, but so had just about everyone these days, even if they hadn't slain an Archdemon, and Dorian looked at her with a slightly raised brow.
"No? I could have sworn I saw one that time I almost fell into the harbour when I was younger. Oh, and when I was about to kiss a man I'm glad I never really got entangled with, what a mess that would have been," he joked of course, though both could have been likely situations. "It would be a lot to put on you, everyone is quite a number," he says somewhat more seriously.
{ 𝑭𝑶𝑿𝑮𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑪𝑹𝑶𝑾𝑵𝑺 }
indie multimuse featuring canon and original characters from various media; Dragon age, ASOIAF, Grishaverse and Final Fantasy XIV. Loved and crafted by Jackie.
"Of course you care far too much," he commented as he leaned into Dorian's touch. He could see it in the way the mage was looking at him now and in the arms draped around him, and in the concern the other man couldn't quite hide. It wasn't a bad thing - on the contrary, it made Alistair feel something warm settle in his gut.
He let himself be held for a moment before pulling back just enough to meet Dorian's gaze. The guilt sat heavily in his chest, making him worry the way he was. He hated that loving him came with so many burdens he couldn't simply bear for himself. But that wouldn't be fair, either - Dorian had chosen this, chosen him and all the complications that came with it. He could take those away just because he felt guilty about them.
"It's probably just a rough patch," he tried reassuring. "Things have been so chaotic lately - what with everything going on in the world right now. Once things settle, I'm sure the dreams will, too. They usually do."
He hoped that was the case. He wasn't entirely sure he believed it this time, but he had to hope.
What he did know is that having Dorian with him certainly helped. When everything began to blur together and he couldn't tell if he was remembering or dreaming or actually living through something, Dorian had been there to lately to pull him back, ground him to what was real. He squeezed Dorian's hand again. "I'm glad you're here," he told him. "Even if I worry you sometimes - you help more than you know."
"And of course you focus on that, and not that I want to share your worries to add an extra set of shoulders," he said, lips slightly pursed, not that he was really annoyed, but it was so very Alistair to pick up on the part that he didn't put the weight on.
He loved him, which was amazing, unexpected, it was a thing he never expected to find, not this late at least. Love felt like something for young people, like some ideal. Maybe it was for the better, when he was younger he wouldn't have believed in love, he'd have thought it was only found in books, never between two men. He'd later unlearnt a lot of things, and some only lately after meeting and falling for Alistair.
Was it a rough patch? It had been a rough patch, but things had calmed down, there was peace, even if the world was in a state of rebuilding, so he wasn't sure he believed him even if he wanted to.
Dorian looked at him, and figured that for now he'd let this rest, Alistair looked sleepless, and maybe a good night's sleep would make things better. "I'm glad that I'm here too, and I'm glad you let me worry, you're worth the extra grey hairs," he said with a smile, "and you are taking the rest of the day off, I'll make sure a bath is drawn for you, that someone brings you a glass of that elderberry mead, and tonight I'm making you tea so you'll get a nice and dreamless sleep."
