#dragon age

[tempesthawke]

Am I ever gonna make it? Am I ever gonna make it out? Am I ever gonna make it? Am I ever gonna make it out alive?

[maagisterpavus]

[nazali]

Dragon Age Oneshots | #1.

challenging myself to write one lil ficlet type thing for each of my dragon age romances per day since i haven't written anything in a few months

day one: red mahariel & zevran arainai

The Blight is over, but the stench of smoke still clings to Denerim's walls.

From the balcony of the temporary Warden quarters, Red can see labourers clearing stone from the streets by torchlight. The palace behind him is crowded with nobles eager to thank him, question him, or tell him what Ferelden requires next. He'd escaped before the third bann could begin to explain the political significance of his marriageable daughters.

Zevran finds him with a map spread across the balcony wall.

"Plotting your escape?" he asks.

"Yes."

The answer is so immediate that Zevran laughs. He wanders closer, expecting to find Amaranthine marked as Red's destination. Instead, the route carves westward, toward the Brecilian Forest and the last known location of Clan Sabrae.

Red had spent the entire journey speaking of his clan as though they were never more than a few days away. He'd carried their stories, songs, and anger with him. Now that nothing prevents his seeing them, Zevran had assumed he would become an intrusion upon his plans - a remnant of the human war Red had never wanted.

"You should go," Zevran says, lightly. "I imagine your people will be relieved to have their wondrous hunter restored to them."

Red's gaze cuts to him. "You dislike forests?"

"Only the damp, the insects, and the unfortunate lack of Antivan wine."

"There will be damp and insects."

"A grave concern."

Red drags one finger along the sketched-out road. Two bedrolls have been marked beside the first stopping point - the notation is small, practical, and entirely deliberate.

Zevran's smile falters.

"My clan may not trust you," Red says. "You were trained by humans, and you have lived amongst them. Some will consider that reason enough."

"How encouraging."

"I will tell them that you are mine."

The possessive should have sounded like a claim. From Red, it does not. He means that Zevran is someone for whom he has accepted responsibility - not as property, but as chosen family, defended with the same certainty he gives his clan.

Red folds the map into quarters and holds it out to him.

"If you wish to come."

Zevran has been invited into beds, schemes, and temporary arrrangements. He has rarely been invited into a future.

He takes the map.

"When shall we leave?"

"Before the bann with the daughters wakes."

Red's expression remains solemn, but Zevran sees the slight shift at one corner of his mouth. He leans in and kisses it before it can fade.

[dragonageannual]

📍 Contributor Spotlight 📍

🎨 Zine Artist: RedRune

Painting has been a life-long hobby for RedRune, and years later she's so happy to do it as a full-time job. She's an old-timer who discovered Dragon Age way back in 2011. Being part of DAA and celebrating her love for this franchise feels truly magical.

🔗 @ruxandralache · instagram · website

[shanamahtopoeia]

Amaranthine peasants give zero craps.

[dirtybiowareconfessions]

Confession: Shale, oh dear Shale, how I want to be between your granite-hard tighs making you sing like if you are the best vein of lyrium deep below the mountains. How I want to be smashed into a pulp from pleasure. Somebody help me for I am insane. Shale. Shale lemme smash. Please. I got you blue

[mipeltaja-art]

Getting back into my Dragon Age feelings. Aveline my beloved.