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kren !!
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okokok im really confised about thr he/him lesbian 😭 im sorry this sounds really rude i just like need someone to explain. sorry sorry sorry
im stupid pleaseplease explain
of course, anon. my pleasure.
so what i want you to do is to imagine, for example, me — an abstract figure, coming back home from my factory job. it's manual labor, it pays well, and i get to touch machinery for 12 hours. i get home, i don't shower, because it's so much better to shower right before going to bed, and i sit on my pretty much rotting couch with a beer. i have a tv, for some reason. i don't watch it. i just sit on my couch and silently hate the president.
a phone rings. i look at it, without feeling a twitch to actually accept the call, but it's x, a femme i met a while ago going grocery shopping. "i need some help with the shelf," she says, sounding oddly upset, "can't make it work, and the instructions are in swedish". i'm off the couch and on the street knocking at her door before i even register the words spoken.
the next hours are not really important — i build the shelf, i move furniture around, i even fix her sink situation while i'm at it. she offers me to smoke with her from time to time. i do, even though she buys those skinny flavoured ones and they taste like nothing with a subtle fleur of soap.
and then i leave, going home to sit on my couch. and i hate the president.
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I shall enter this treacherous dungeon through the main gate , I hope I shan't be ambushed by any foul creat-
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ghostface sona wojak
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hey
#dragon age#dragon age 2#fenhawke#fenris#garrett hawke#not my art#art#in love with them#forever and always#always and forever
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WAH MY ARISHOK POST ONLY HAVING TWO NOTES AND ITS FROM ME ….
THIS IS SO SAD BAHAHAHAH
now crowley dance
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The Arishok and His Hero.
;Da2 Arishok x Fem!HoF
The Arishok and the HoF once had an intimate but complicated relationship from when he was a Sten. Tensions are rising in Kirkwall, and his mind subconsciously drifts to a simpler time. A time with her.
Unfortunately for him, there’s one thing he’s forgotten.
a/n: erm, whats up !! I remember struggling writing this because I always though the arishok had like … long hair. so when i figured out he didn’t i just made it a plot point to make things sadder. I am genuinely so sad we don’t get to romance sten in dao argh
“Well looky you. You aged like fine wine, huh, Sten? Or— I suppose it’s the Arishok now.”
She snarked, a grin on her face but it seemed there was something else behind it. Something deeper, more complex than just two companions reuniting after a long time. That’s all they were, and had been to the outside world. Companions. They didn’t notice the looks, the gentle touches, the desire when one passed the other. Back in the day, that was. Now look at them. Having withered slightly with age.
Mishka had streaks of gray in her hair, though still looking relatively young. Not to mention the barrage of scars on her body— more than when the Arishok knew her. When he had still just been Sten. He changed the most between the two, after all. He was now the leader of the Qunari militia. His hair double the length it was back then, some graying too of course. Wrinkles finally showing up more, more apparent. Long, beautiful horns that Sten lacked back then. Horns she wanted to grab.
“The Hero of Ferelden came to visit. How delightful.” He spoke dryly, making the elf snort and cross her arms. She looked more Dalish now, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Perhaps just a little amused, considering how she used to curse the Dalish as if they were Darkspawn themselves. Perhaps she made some amends with her past and moved on. That would be a first for Mishka. If she had many of those left. The Arishok certainly never expected to see her again, after their departure from one another. Especially after the final fight. Yet here she was.
He sat atop his throne, in the Qunari compound that they had to make due to the misfortune of being stuck in Kirkwall of all cities. Due to his mistake. The stress and tension that’d been building over the last few years, it felt like a pot was going to soon boil over. Being far from Val Pollen didn’t help either— because that meant no Tamassarans. So maybe… that’s why he didn’t call for the Stens around him to apprehend her as she sauntered towards the throne.
His stony stare digging holes into her, watching the familiar movement coming from a woman he used to hold quite close to his chest. Literally and figuratively. The Sten didn’t turn their heads. Maybe it was because he didn’t say anything, or it could have been another reason. He didn’t care. His eyes were only on her. The damned arrogant elf.
The Hero of Ferelden. Small enough for him to tower over, but not fragile that she’d shatter as soon as he put his hand on her waist and squeezed. Definitely not fragile, as she’s shown him dozens of times. That was just when she was starting to hone her skills too, he could only imagine what a decade of hard work and training could do for her. She who sat so languidly in his lap, calloused hand reaching up to caress his face. It made him jolt. That wasn’t the surprising bit. The surprising bit was the way he then keened, and leaned into her touch.
He took in her features. The gnarly burn mark that forever scarred the left side of her face, and travelling to her shoulder. A mark he took upon himself those years ago to heal until she no longer flinched and hissed when he traced his finger over the coarse skin.
Lips that whispered the filthiest things to him. That would spread into a grin when she finally started figuring out how to read him. How to tell what would rile him up and what would absolutely piss him off.
Her hand travelled higher until it tangled itself in his hair, her other hand on his chest. Eyes flitted half closed, looking up at him through long lashes. He who only leaned further down, hardly letting her be the one chasing after him. Instead, he was the one chasing after her. Her touch. Her words.
Her lips parted, putting on display the sharp points she called her teeth. Whenever she raked those across his skin, it felt like a dagger gliding along his body. Little daggers she had in her mouth. “You, Sten,” she breathed out, breath hot against own mouth. His lips parted just the slightest, as if he expected something. Anything.
“Are a useless fucking tool.”
Then there it was. Her hands fell limp. Her head knocked against his own, and the lively body that once sat perched on his lap became limp like a rag doll. The stench of death and charred flesh, the stench of something earthy and dank, the smell of Darkspawn blood.
The top of Fort Drakon. The Archdemon’s corpse on the ground. Next to it, the Hero of Ferelden. She was Grey Warden, to die killing the Archdemon was her purpose. He knew better than anyone— anyone that to stop her from fulfilling that purpose would have made him a hypocrite. So who was he, the man who followed the Qun to the T, who was he to deny her that privilege of purpose he devoted and spoke of? That’s why, while everyone rushed to her side to help fight the Archdemon, he stayed away. He wasn’t there when she drew her last breath. When she fulfilled her purpose.
What of his purpose?
As he stared at the Asala she returned to him. The weapon he killed for when he found out it was missing. For the first time in a while, after that fight. Her death. He questioned it. He questioned it all. The Qun. His life. His faiths. His purpose.
Suddenly, she appeared before him. The Archdemon looming from behind, its breath puffing out smoke with every breath it took. The sky a bewitching and venomous purple, Mishka’s lifeless eyes stared into his. “Tal-Vashoth. Your faith wavered. Your people should have thrown you out,” a storm brew above, “just like you did to me.”
A flash and a bang.
Then nothing.
When vision came to him once again, he was staring up at his tent. Surrounded by handmade, quality cushions all for the Arishok. His bed roll a mess, no doubt from him tossing and turning. His body slightly damp from sweat, as he pushed himself up and off the ground. Locks of hair falling in front of him, as he breathed in and out.
She was dead. She has been for ten years. That had been a figment of his imagination. Unbeknownst to him, it was the guilt that had been building up for a decade. Guess it finally spilled over during this time of high stress. He kneeled, quickly dressing himself and making himself look presentable. Anything to take his mind off of… that.
“Arishok. The diplomat from the Viscount has finally arrived.” Spoke a Sten outside his tent. The Arishok only grunted, right. He had visitors today. More to add to his migraine, he supposed. He slinked out of his tent, eyes squinting just the slightest as the sunlight hit his vision. His head throbbed. He could feel it, still feel her touch. The way she pulled on his hair, so close to the protruding horns adorned with gold bands.
“You know, you’d look absolutely dashing with long hair. I’ve always loved that look on men. Especially you.”
Spoken to him, by her during a drunken night. Oghren convinced her to drink with him, and that made her ten times the more honest than she usually was. Which was honestly a feat. There was certainly more to that memory, but he’d rather leave it untouched. The Arishok looked back to his tent. He supposed a change in his appearance wasn’t criminal.
•••
“What should I say, hm? Fenris, you know a bit of Qun right? C’mon, give me some phrases!”
“I’m afraid learning them right here right now when we’ve already entered the compound would be a bit of poor taste, Hawke. Should have asked me before we came.”
“D’awh, s’okay Hawke! Sure elfy there will gladly aid you in translating some of our delightful conversation topics of the day.”
“Careful— The elf might just end up with us gutted. You know how he is.”
Four pairs of eyes landed on him when he finally walked out. A blonde mage, a white haired elf, a dwarf with a cross bow, and a human. A human with..
“Speak. Now.” His voice came out as a rumble, perhaps with a little more animosity than needed. Yet he could not help it. He sliced off his hair moments before coming out so he wouldn’t have to have a constant reminder of that woman— and here another one was. With similar hair colour and skin, not to mention facial markings as well. And an arrogant little smirk on her face.
Even in death she found ways to piss him off.
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The Arishok and His Hero.
;Da2 Arishok x Fem!HoF
The Arishok and the HoF once had an intimate but complicated relationship from when he was a Sten. Tensions are rising in Kirkwall, and his mind subconsciously drifts to a simpler time. A time with her.
Unfortunately for him, there’s one thing he’s forgotten.
a/n: erm, whats up !! I remember struggling writing this because I always though the arishok had like … long hair. so when i figured out he didn’t i just made it a plot point to make things sadder. I am genuinely so sad we don’t get to romance sten in dao argh
also erm sorry got my lore wrong LMAO pretend this is an au where dao sten gets the arishok role immediately after returning
“Well looky you. You aged like fine wine, huh, Sten? Or— I suppose it’s the Arishok now.”
She snarked, a grin on her face but it seemed there was something else behind it. Something deeper, more complex than just two companions reuniting after a long time. That’s all they were, and had been to the outside world. Companions. They didn’t notice the looks, the gentle touches, the desire when one passed the other. Back in the day, that was. Now look at them. Having withered slightly with age.
Mishka had streaks of gray in her hair, though still looking relatively young. Not to mention the barrage of scars on her body— more than when the Arishok knew her. When he had still just been Sten. He changed the most between the two, after all. He was now the leader of the Qunari militia. His hair double the length it was back then, some graying too of course. Wrinkles finally showing up more, more apparent. Long, beautiful horns that Sten lacked back then. Horns she wanted to grab.
“The Hero of Ferelden came to visit. How delightful.” He spoke dryly, making the elf snort and cross her arms. She looked more Dalish now, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Perhaps just a little amused, considering how she used to curse the Dalish as if they were Darkspawn themselves. Perhaps she made some amends with her past and moved on. That would be a first for Mishka. If she had many of those left. The Arishok certainly never expected to see her again, after their departure from one another. Especially after the final fight. Yet here she was.
He sat atop his throne, in the Qunari compound that they had to make due to the misfortune of being stuck in Kirkwall of all cities. Due to his mistake. The stress and tension that’d been building over the last few years, it felt like a pot was going to soon boil over. Being far from Val Pollen didn’t help either— because that meant no Tamassarans. So maybe… that’s why he didn’t call for the Stens around him to apprehend her as she sauntered towards the throne.
His stony stare digging holes into her, watching the familiar movement coming from a woman he used to hold quite close to his chest. Literally and figuratively. The Sten didn’t turn their heads. Maybe it was because he didn’t say anything, or it could have been another reason. He didn’t care. His eyes were only on her. The damned arrogant elf.
The Hero of Ferelden. Small enough for him to tower over, but not fragile that she’d shatter as soon as he put his hand on her waist and squeezed. Definitely not fragile, as she’s shown him dozens of times. That was just when she was starting to hone her skills too, he could only imagine what a decade of hard work and training could do for her. She who sat so languidly in his lap, calloused hand reaching up to caress his face. It made him jolt. That wasn’t the surprising bit. The surprising bit was the way he then keened, and leaned into her touch.
He took in her features. The gnarly burn mark that forever scarred the left side of her face, and travelling to her shoulder. A mark he took upon himself those years ago to heal until she no longer flinched and hissed when he traced his finger over the coarse skin.
Lips that whispered the filthiest things to him. That would spread into a grin when she finally started figuring out how to read him. How to tell what would rile him up and what would absolutely piss him off.
Her hand travelled higher until it tangled itself in his hair, her other hand on his chest. Eyes flitted half closed, looking up at him through long lashes. He who only leaned further down, hardly letting her be the one chasing after him. Instead, he was the one chasing after her. Her touch. Her words.
Her lips parted, putting on display the sharp points she called her teeth. Whenever she raked those across his skin, it felt like a dagger gliding along his body. Little daggers she had in her mouth. “You, Sten,” she breathed out, breath hot against own mouth. His lips parted just the slightest, as if he expected something. Anything.
“Are a useless fucking tool.”
Then there it was. Her hands fell limp. Her head knocked against his own, and the lively body that once sat perched on his lap became limp like a rag doll. The stench of death and charred flesh, the stench of something earthy and dank, the smell of Darkspawn blood.
The top of Fort Drakon. The Archdemon’s corpse on the ground. Next to it, the Hero of Ferelden. She was Grey Warden, to die killing the Archdemon was her purpose. He knew better than anyone— anyone that to stop her from fulfilling that purpose would have made him a hypocrite. So who was he, the man who followed the Qun to the T, who was he to deny her that privilege of purpose he devoted and spoke of? That’s why, while everyone rushed to her side to help fight the Archdemon, he stayed away. He wasn’t there when she drew her last breath. When she fulfilled her purpose.
What of his purpose?
As he stared at the Asala she returned to him. The weapon he killed for when he found out it was missing. For the first time in a while, after that fight. Her death. He questioned it. He questioned it all. The Qun. His life. His faiths. His purpose.
Suddenly, she appeared before him. The Archdemon looming from behind, its breath puffing out smoke with every breath it took. The sky a bewitching and venomous purple, Mishka’s lifeless eyes stared into his. “Tal-Vashoth. Your faith wavered. Your people should have thrown you out,” a storm brew above, “just like you did to me.”
A flash and a bang.
Then nothing.
When vision came to him once again, he was staring up at his tent. Surrounded by handmade, quality cushions all for the Arishok. His bed roll a mess, no doubt from him tossing and turning. His body slightly damp from sweat, as he pushed himself up and off the ground. Locks of hair falling in front of him, as he breathed in and out.
She was dead. She has been for ten years. That had been a figment of his imagination. Unbeknownst to him, it was the guilt that had been building up for a decade. Guess it finally spilled over during this time of high stress. He kneeled, quickly dressing himself and making himself look presentable. Anything to take his mind off of… that.
“Arishok. The diplomat from the Viscount has finally arrived.” Spoke a Sten outside his tent. The Arishok only grunted, right. He had visitors today. More to add to his migraine, he supposed. He slinked out of his tent, eyes squinting just the slightest as the sunlight hit his vision. His head throbbed. He could feel it, still feel her touch. The way she pulled on his hair, so close to the protruding horns adorned with gold bands.
“You know, you’d look absolutely dashing with long hair. I’ve always loved that look on men. Especially you.”
Spoken to him, by her during a drunken night. Oghren convinced her to drink with him, and that made her ten times the more honest than she usually was. Which was honestly a feat. There was certainly more to that memory, but he’d rather leave it untouched. The Arishok looked back to his tent. He supposed a change in his appearance wasn’t criminal.
•••
“What should I say, hm? Fenris, you know a bit of Qun right? C’mon, give me some phrases!”
“I’m afraid learning them right here right now when we’ve already entered the compound would be a bit of poor taste, Hawke. Should have asked me before we came.”
“D’awh, s’okay Hawke! Sure elfy there will gladly aid you in translating some of our delightful conversation topics of the day.”
“Careful— The elf might just end up with us gutted. You know how he is.”
Four pairs of eyes landed on him when he finally walked out. A blonde mage, a white haired elf, a dwarf with a cross bow, and a human. A human with..
“Speak. Now.” His voice came out as a rumble, perhaps with a little more animosity than needed. Yet he could not help it. He sliced off his hair moments before coming out so he wouldn’t have to have a constant reminder of that woman— and here another one was. With similar hair colour and skin, not to mention facial markings as well. And an arrogant little smirk on her face.
Even in death she found ways to piss him off.
#dragon age#dragon age origins#dragon age 2#fenris#dao#da2#kren’s writing#dragon age fenris#oc x canon#oc x arishok#mishok BAHAHHAHA#mishok#?#arishka#yessmmm#ig in canon mishka is with zevran but to ME sten and mishka would have been a thing#da 2 arishok#arishok dragon age#anders dragon age#varric tethras#arishok#one shot#mishka surana#hawke#non canon hawke#my hawke …..#cyrene hawke#qunari#i actually love qunari i could write abt them all day#not rlly proof read sorry
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There are ads here on tumblr as well. Tiktok is putting warnings on videos of people who are only mentioning what is happening in palestine. Instagram is deleting accounts of people who are reporting straight from gaza.
Biden questioned the number of deaths reported in Gaza, after which the health ministry came out with a report over 200 hundred pages long with personal information on the killed individuals.
24 journalists have been killed in 21 days.
Yesterday internet and phone services in Gaza went down, due to the heavy bombardments.
The voice of the people in palestine is being silenced in every way you can imagine.
So the least you can do, is share what is going on. Use all your platforms. Even this one.
#israel#palestine#please please please if you havent read up on the situation#please do !!#news#don’t look over this and believe theres nothing you can do#big world leaders are shitty as hell but if public opinion is loud enough we CAN sway them#the fact that we have to sway them from defending genocide to begin with is abhorrent but we have to keep going#there are tons of resources on twitter#on instagram#keep speaking out#dont stop now
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before i continue my pussy up and post ALL my drabbles of da lemme introduce mishka surana; my muse <3
canonically? Romanced Zevran and died fighting archdemon. But in my heart she lives on in many universes with immense guilt and complexes (also in another universe was tgt w STEN STEN STEN MY DAARRLINNGG WIFE)
#dragon age#kren’s jibber jabber#dragon age origins#art#dragon age fanart#dragon age oc#kren’s art !?#mishka surana#dao#she’s a blood mage btw ……#also to#paul#(can i call you that)#im sorry for spamming the same mishka art BAHHSHANJXJSKS 😭😭😭#JUST IGNORE ME IVE GOTTA INTRODUCE HER HERE TOO I AM ILL
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i have finally pussied up im going to write dragon age fics
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minthara or lae’zel
lae'zel actually has been missing from camp for weeks now because she got kidnapped and im too busy stealing everything that isn't chained to the ground
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bioware really wants me to romance fenris for whatever reason
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Water is not sliding off his back.
Please support me with tips here, ko-fi, or on twitter
#good omens#anthony j crowley#crowley#gomens#good omens 2#im crying#aziraphale#not my art#sobs#sshks
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Like dogs, Shianni
#dragon age#digital art#dragon age fanart#fanart#dragon age origins#warden tabris#grey warden#not my art#i love the tabris origins#like yes kill them all like the packs of bitches they are !!#God#i love shianni too#ops art so pretty#colours…#gouge out their eyes#gut them like fish#yes
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Krem (Dragon Age Inquisition)
#cremisius aclassi#dragon age fan art#dragon age#dragon age inquisition#bioware#krem de la creme#dragon age krem#the bull's charges#dragon age fanart#not my art#kREM#KREM !!!!!#KREM POSTING AGAIN#I LOVE KREM#I LOVE LOVE LOVE#dies
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