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Mass Effect 2 05/??

#c: Shepard #Mass Effect #The Normandy

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planets of MASS EFFECT 2

#c: Shepard #Aesthetics: Shepard #Mass Effect

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Squeezes Jaime’s moon muscle

Random asks ||| always accepting

// ... You be looking, don't lie

#ooc asks #c: Jaime #it's literature... smutty literature #/ soidjfoisdjf this will probably get removed LOL #// YES I LOOKED UP THROUGH ALL OF MY SCREENCAPS TO FIND THIS lol

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“Rage is addictive, you know. I guess it’s sorta like a drug. Anger and hatred get you high. They get you high, but like any addiction, they hollow you out and tear you down and eat you alive.”

— Marco, Book #10: The Android, pg. 45 (by K.A. Applegate)

#c: Tobi #Musings: Tobi #Rage

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Fyodor Dostoyevsky // Alanis Morissette

#c: Jaime #Musings: Jaime #c: Hawke #Musings: Hawke

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Five moons!? It was no wonder she was beginning to panic. She would be showing and showing quickly with the babe that grew in her belly. How had he not noticed when she'd bathed? When he'd attempted to kiss and be intimate with her. He supposed this was why she'd withdrawn from him, too scared to allow his hand and lips to wander. Perhaps he'd just thought their lives had been so good to them in the North these last few moons that she'd become plump off roasts and other luxuries they'd had as they served beside Queen Sansa.

His hand felt against the bump of her belly, where he'd been unable to touch for what seemed like a painful eternity. Gods, he could feel how firm it was, just as Cersei's belly had swollen with each of their children.

He could be a father. He could finally love his child freely! Oh, but this was wonderful, until Brienne mentioned that her own mother had passed. Just as his own when Tyrion was born. Childbirth was a horrible yet wonderful thing.

"No," he said with determination and promise, "you will make it through this. We have Sansa and her best to be at your side. I promise you, I will be beside you through every part of this." Because he could be. Finally. How many precious moments had he missed of his children's lives because he was their 'uncle'? Because he was not allowed to show them the love that he'd had for them?

He lifted his hand to Brienne's cheek and pulled her in for a tender kiss. "I will be the best father I can be. I could never be there for my other children..." Or Cersei. "But I will be there for you, and this wonderful life you carry."

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Sapphires search emeralds for any sign of rage, almost desperately, as he steps closer to her. The babe seemed to have sucked all resilience from her, leaving her fearful of near everything- was this how a woman ought to feel? She did not know.

Heart pounds in her chest, but it eases the moment his hand rests upon her cheek, as though restoring at least some of her strength. And there was a smile upon his lips, one which eased her discomfort even more so.

“I…I’ve known for two moons…” she answers, hoping her confession does not provoke him to anger. “The maester believes me to be five moons now…”

She feels the babe shift within her belly, a sensation that had frightened her when she first felt it a moon ago, but one which brings her comfort now. Slowly, she takes Jaime’s hand, presses it to the swell where the babe is nudging.

“I could not bring myself to tell you…” she whispers and in that moment, the tears return unbidden. “I feared you would flee…and I fear I will not survive this…just like my mother before me…”

#IC #c: Jaime #Brienne #cw: pregnancy

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Tobi watched her carefully, heightened senses listening to everything he could. Now that Rollo was dead, though, and his men slain or attempting to flee... it all seemed silent around him. He could hear his own heart beating hard inside his chest. The idea of freedom had been but a fleeting thought for so long... He'd been captive during the long war or the Seven Kingdoms, he'd been here when the battle of the Others had been won.

He didn't even know if his clan still existed. There were freefolk, yes, but those that walked with the wolves were a people of their own, a clan of their own, even other freefolk were wary of them, or considered them a skilfull hunt. Would his people even welcome him back when he had been tainted? When he was no longer of their clan as he'd been gone for so many years?

There were so many questions, and he didn't know the world outside anymore. Just that inside a tent or a pit where he fought and killed.

"I'm not surprised you haven't heard of us," he replied, his eyes on hers, watching every movement, from the whispering of her people to when she turned her attention back to him.

"The Others... they would have killed my people. But not without a fight." There was a growl in his voice. But the fact that she didn't know of his kind only made him even more concerned about them. If they would have joined this battle, then she would have known they were but a shell of a man, a beast inside.

"I imagine they're all gone..." He may very well be the last. He looked back to Rollo's lifeless form. Everyone he knew may be gone, including his captor. "If you're looking for his sacred relics, I can show you. They're of no use to me and I couldn't care less to touch them. Take it as my thanks for... this." He gestured to his freedom.

PRIVATE ROLEPLAY: DO NOT REBLOG IF YOU ARE NOT MY PARTNER.

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╣❦╠ ƈօռզʊɛʀɨռɢ ֆȶօʀʍ ❧

There were still pockets of fighting throughout the city, and thousands of decisions she would have to make, so every minute Daenerys spent with this unusual man was time away from those things. But she was, after all, the Breaker of Chains and the chains securing this man were the most strange she had ever seen. With luck, the mage being sent was actually a mage and not a conman. If not… a thought occurred to her just then and Dany waved one of her men over to whisper a command. “Tobi,” Daenerys repeated, turning her attention back to the captive.

“The Freefolk of the North fought alongside my armies in the battle against the Others. Some survived. There are even a few among my people here, but I have not heard of any being… a wolfwalker,” she replied, a small frown creasing her forehead. The Starks had claimed to be descendants of skinwalkers, but only one had proved any hint of that during the battle with the Others. A quarrelsome family except the youngest daughter, Arya, who had befriended Daenerys from the first meeting. “I have no intention of doing anything with you, Tobi. I hope you might know where the owner of this manse hid his prized possessions, but I had also thought that there would be a cooperative exchange for that information.”

“ Voluntarily, of course. All of my people are with me of their own free will and if you wish to become one of them, you would do so of your own choice,” she continued, glancing past him as the man she’d whispered to came out of said manse holding a dismembered hand. Dany waved that the man should come over to her. He changed direction and moved cautiously around the captive man. “Having said that, I do hope that if I free you, you will not harm anyone. If you wish, you are free to stay or go. If you wish to go, go in peace. If you wish to stay, you must abide by the laws as all do. Can you give me that assurance?”

#IC #c: Tobi #Daenerys #lastxdragon #// Sorry if this seems a little over the place? I'm trying to remember what we're actually doing with this thread lol XD #// It's been so long sorry!

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// I really want more Shepard threads (:

#ooc #tbd

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In the golden age of the Protheans, Ilos was a verdant world, dotted with the spires and arches of magnificent cities. Even casual observation shows this is no longer the case. Ilos has been devastated by means unknown, its entire surface changed to the color of rust.

#Mass Effect #Ilos #c: Shepard

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"Now, we're standing face to face. Look me in the eye. Confrontation, no escape. Tonight, vengeance is mine. Crawling on your knees, your back against the wall. Pride comes. Pride comes before the fall."

-----Sornin Tor'az | A Baldur's Gate 3 Companion muse | 18+ | © ------

---------------------------🦉 Loved by Owl 🦉----------------------------

#promo #// I'm kind of mostly here atm... (:

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// God, this man is is so pretty iushdfiusdhf

#c: Jaime #Images: Jaime #// I am big gay for him

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Jaime's eyes clenched shut as he heard the whispers, as if they were right inside his ears. He shouldn't look! He can't look! He can't look the creature in the eye, unless he wishes to be dead himself. But he flinched nonetheless, as if those claws trailed themselves across the back of his neck, making his hair stand.

Gods. Gods, he was so stupid! How could he be so stupid!? And he said it under his breath, and then repeated it again, louder so the creature could hear him.

Was it fair to let this man die because of his sins? He could hear the commotion as Geralt attacked, and the hym tried its best, but his eyes were clenched so tight, afraid of what he would see. Was he terrified of this creature? He had fought many a monsters--even if those monsters had been men. It was not the hym that he feared, it was himself. It was his own lies, his own betrayals, his own self loathing, and knowing that they were now all lain upon the table. Even if Geralt was not meant to judge, he was still part human. They all did. And now, his secrets were there in the open, for Geralt to hear, for him to spread around the seven kingdoms.

He couldn't take it any longer, and Jaime's eyes opened wide, fear across his face. He could see the blood across Geralt's face, and the knight in him (what little may remain), wanted to take his sword, he wanted to stand up and fight! He was no coward when it came to battle. He was brash, he was angry, but he was skilled. Alas, this monster was a creature of the Witcher's world, only a Witcher could battle, only a true monster hunter.

His hands raised as he covered his ears. He had to continue the ritual, he had to make sure that the Witcher survived. It was the least he could do.

"He will not die for my wrongs!" he yelled through gritted teeth. "I accept my sins. I bare them to this world, to free those that you will take, and avenge those that you already have."

Kill it, Witcher! Kill the beast!

"I will not let you kill him! You cannot have him!"

Gods, they were cruel. How he wanted to pour his heart out for such a long time, but could not. These secrets could never leave his lips, for fear of murder. His children. His lover. Himself. He would be hanged for his crimes. But what was death now when everyone that he’d ever loved had already been taken from him. His children, and Cersei. Though she was still there, she did not love him like she once had.

His sister had pitied him the moment he’d come back without a hand. She’d looked down at him. And as he was a prisoner to the wolf, she took whatever Lannister she could to her bed chamber. It made him angry to think on, but he tried to channel that into the guilt of his crimes. The guilt that told him none of this would have happened if he’d never shared his heart with her.

His eyes clenched, his jaw tight. It was just the Witcher and him, and the monster that fed from him. His words would never be repeated, and with knowing that, he could speak every heartfelt pain he’d felt and had to hold in for such a long time.

“I hurt in the name of love. A selfish love. I wanted her all to my own, and I feared that my children would be slain. If I had not have pushed that boy, we would not be here. This game of thrones that has thrown the world into chaos,” he said through clenched teeth now.

“I have loved my sister in secret and shamed the Lannister title. I have shamed my father, and I have bent the knee to Cersei so many times that I can no longer count. I have killed in the name of her c*nt.

“I have been selfish and put myself above others, and told them it was from my heart. My love. I have watched a cruel queen and stood by to do nothing as she reigned. I have turned into someone I no longer recognise and have come to loathe. I have no pride! I have no self love. I am a shell of the man I once was, with no honour left.”

His chest felt hollow and empty as he said it, as those words, all of those feelings that he’d held onto so long, were finally poured from his lips. And it hurt. It hurt so damn much to see how much of a fool he’d been.

“I am a fool,” he whispered before he spoke louder again. “The gods have all the right to hate me. I am no Lion. I am but a sad man. A man with nothing left to give.”

#IC #c: Jaime #Geralt #// oisjdif I LOVE this thread so much tho

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"No," Hawke said with a tease in his voice. He pulled out the small pouch of coin, with some leftovers in it as he jingled it. He then tossed it over to Ravus. "I figured if I want to be alive in the morning, I best not piss off the templar that's sharing my room." He gave Ravus a little smug look before he pulled his shirt off over his head.

Hawke was a muscular and hairy man, shorter than Ravus, but still well toned for a mage. But he had never enjoyed being a mage. In fact, he had come to detest the fact that he'd grown into his father's abilities. It would have been so much easier if he was just a soldier, just like Carver. He carried a large sword in hand, and used it mostly in his battles. But magic came in handy here and there, especially when it came to healing.

Balling up the shirt, he tossed it onto the floor before he looked back at Ravus and laughed. "Oh...? My, my, I wouldn't have thought," he grinned. "No matter, I do like the feel of a man at my back." He was relentless, of course.

Moving onto the bed, Hawke was tired anyway, so he took his side as Ravus ate his dinner. "I guess I'll see you in the morning, bedfellow." He tucked himself up and turned his back to Ravus, laying on his side of the bed and waiting for that big spoon.

@call-2-arms moved from here because Legacy.

The flustering mess of a templar was positively endearing to see, as Ravus shoved and pushed him right out of the room. It was such a shame, considering the view had been so nice--however brief it had been. Strong legs, of course, he was a templar. Hawke didn't consider any less. Shoulders that were broad. Hair was dripping wet and sticking to pale skin. Pale, pale skin. Ravus was like a damn ghost! Was he so locked up in the towers that he didn't get to see the sun over in Orlais? Probably pampered since he was nobility...

But it was the scars that Hawke remembered mostly as he was shoved back out into the main, little room that they'd hired for the night. Ravus' arm was marred and butchered, and where the towel did not cover, in a flurry of madness (and the mirror inside the room), Hawke saw the old wounds that scarred his back.

Of course, he pretended that he didn't see a damn thing other than maybe a little groin action, after all, that's where the fun was at, right?

"Oh come on, it's not like you've got nothing I've never seen before. Once you've seen one, you've seen 'em all, they say!" he said to the wooden door that was in front of his face and may as well have taken his nose off.

He huffed, but gave Ravus his space. Enough for one night, he didn't want to wake up with a sword between his eyes... unless it was the other kind of sword.

When Ravus stepped out, Hawke had lounged himself onto the chair, a drink in his hand and a meal left on the small table. He gestured his hand to it so Ravus would eat.

"Now, now, don't look at me like that. Have something to eat, it'll cheer you up. Maybe... If that's possible," he muttered with a smirk at his lips. "We should rest, though. No point in making ourselves too tired to continue. Besides, the chatter from below is that there's no ships coming in until the morrow. We don't have much of a choice."

⋞⁘♔⁘⋟    Ravus nose scrunched slightly in his indecision. He was tired, surely. Rest would be highly welcomed if he were to be honest with himself. There was the issue of the solo bed looming over him, though. He hadn't shared a bed with anyone in nearly... hell, six years? And even that had been a sleeping arrangement with his sister on their way to the Circle. (It had been a wonder she was still there when he woke up, really.)

"I am perfectly capable of being cheered," he stated, the harsher edges of his personality smoothing slightly now that he was clean, was devoid of uncomfortable boots, and had the aspect of food to look forward to. Were he not exhausted, his mood might have been somewhat close to cheerful; or as close to cheerful as Ravus got.

That settled it then. No ships until tomorrow meant they were staying where they were until then. They might as well enjoy the comfort while they could.

After he tied back his wet hair, Ravus picked up the plate and settled himself on the bed, legs criss-crossed against himself as he ate. "So, did you spend all my coin?" he asked with a small smirk as he dipped a piece of bread in some stew.

His eyes drifted to the left to eye the bed he was sitting on. Hell with it... he wanted the comfort. "And.. I choose big," he mumbled quietly under his breath in regards to the earlier comment about... spoons.

#IC #c: Hawke #Ravus #// We can time skip if you like :)

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Cassandra eyed him from the side. It was such an odd thing to say, that Corypheus had a ridiculous name. Did he? And what would he think of Ravus? Or Cassandra for that matter. It amused her, although she did not show it, her jaw still straight. She may be a good soldier, but she was not immune to a little laughing here and there, given the time and place.

"Tevinter," she spoke, with a nod of her head. "They do have a flare for the dramatics." She wasn't sure if he should be making fun of the magister's name, though. He was dangerous, and worst of all, he was unknown. They only had what he had told the Inquisitor to go off of. Dorian was on the search for something they could use, but that would take time. Ridiculous name or not, he was formidable a foe, and they should take him seriously.

As Ravus pledged himself, Cassandra's head turned this time, looking him up and down for a moment. He was a templar, it was only true to his path that he would want to help, that he would pledge himself. Though lately... that was questionable when it came to his brethren.

Her shoulders squared, and she gave him a proper nod of her head. "The Inquisition needs all the support it can get. I am certain the Inquisitor would be happy to have you on board. And in time, perhaps, some more of your templar brothers and sisters may follow suit."

A huff left her lips. She was not good at speaking about herself. If she could, she would avoid it, but now he was asking her directly, and she supposed that if he pledged himself, then she could learn to trust him.

"Do you call swords hobbies?" She gave him a quick look of amusement. Would that sate him for now?

@call-2-arms from here, (Moved to new post from Legacy)

"There would be, yes," Cassandra confirmed. "The infirmary alone is busy, with many mages and physicians who could help her." Or maybe it would be the other way around, and Lunafreya was the one helping the others how to heal. There was infighting, of course, amongst those who thought modern medicine was better than the older, healing ways or magics. Both had their purpose, Cassandra knew. She had put her faith in many mages on the battlefield and at Skyhold when it had come to her wounds. The infirmary was also full with herbs and medicines to take with them (such as those that sat in her saddlebag and around her hips). One should never leave Skyhold unprepared. The Inquisition would never have too many healers.

"As you are likely ware, the Inquisition has housed the mages as allies, not as prisoners." That had been the Inquisitor's choice, and who was she to argue that choice. In fact, she believed that they did well whilst put on the spot, and she did support their decision, despite her initial frustration. That was a loaded question, and Cassandra felt her hands tighten just a little at the leather straps. She looked forward, concentrating on the path ahead. Always the path ahead, whether that was this one, or the path of life. "I served the Divine, and now she is gone. But that does not mean I will stop believing in what she gave her life for." She had been a supportive Divine, one who wished for growth, and perhaps even a life shared between the templars and the mages. And she was killed for that. Cassandra would not go down without a fight. "That will entirely depend on what we find at Cear Oswin. If the Seekers have fallen, then I will attempt to rebuild." She supposed... she was not entirely sure, and her voice faltered just a little as she said it. "There is no Divine, and the Chantry fumbles with its choices. All I can do now is support the Inquisition, and do my best to make sure that Corypheus is dealt with." What happened after was still up in the air. Would she be allowed to serve the new Divine? Or would she rebuild the Seeker's and serve them once more?

⋞⁘♔⁘⋟       Hearing that there would sanctuary and useful purpose for his sister if they located her was a small comfort. No matter how miniscule, it was still more of one than Ravus had been given in quite a long while. His disposition relaxed visibly as the continued moving, though his posture was still that of a perfect soldier.

He listened to Cassandra as she spoke of the Divine - or lack there of, rather. Her devotion to greater causes was admirable, and Ravus could respect it just as much as any heroic arcs and noble causes. He had long ago given up fighting such battles on his own, but... respectable, surely.

"Corypheus," he whispered to himself, cementing the name in his mind so it would never be forgotten. "What a ridiculous name." His brows furrowed while he contemplated that. He wanted to locate Lunafreya, but something in his romanticized Templar heart also wanted to help the Inquisition fell their great foe. Was it not the fate of all Thedas at risk, after all?

"As you say, once we reach this Caer Oswin, depending upon what it found... I would wish to consider offering my blade to the Inquisiton, if you'll have it. Once I at least know if she is.... well." He couldn't bring himself to say alive.

"But, you still evaded my question," he added, simply. "Your faith and cause do not define you. If you allow it to, it is the quickest way to lose yourself. What does Cassandra enjoy? Surely you must have hobbies or recreations you pursue?"

#IC #c: Cassandra #Ravus

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He hated to see her cry. Brienne was such a strong woman, more a man than a maiden, of course. She always had been. And yet, that had someone drew Jaime to her. She was a behemoth of a thing, one could hardly call her pretty. But there she was, his and his alone, and he hated to see those beautiful sapphire eyes filled with tears.

What had brought this on? Had everything finally caught up to her? Had her regrets and shame of marrying him finally fallen upon those broad shoulders? Even as she said she did not hate him, he was uncertain, worried that perhaps the Lannister charm had finally run its course. She was realising that she had wedded a monster, a kingslayer, a man that was so full of bitterness that it had leaked into her with how many times they had shared a bed.

Green eyes watched her carefully, trying to understand, trying to analyse like he did in such tense situations. People thought that Jaime was all anger and rage, but he was not. He was a skilled knight that had won many a strategic battles, and he knew people more than they realised. It was how he kept them guessing, it was how he kept in control, always surprising them. They always expected a liar out of him no thanks to Lannister tricks, but he was the most honest of them all. He wanted no secrets. He wanted to shame. He wanted to live freely and openly, but Cersei had forced him to secrecy, and his father had made sure he kept his mouth shut. With Brienne, though, he could be as open as he wished. He just wished she would be as openly as he.

When Brienne stepped back and revealed the swell of her belly, he was confused for a moment to why she was scared. Of him? Of herself? But he had been around Cersei through all of her pregnancies, and immediately, he knew that it was his seed that was growing.

Jaime's heart thumped hard in his chest, his lips parting. It was not fear that overtook him, but glee. "You... you are... pregnant?" Oh, but it was wonderful! He didn't understand why she was so scared, why she had hidden this from him, and how he had never noticed!? Perhaps it was because Brienne was already such a strong woman that she hid her belly well, or the clothes she wore were always armour and pads, something that would hide even her small breasts.

He took a step towards her, his eyes bright as he reached out to cup her cheek with his single hand. "Brienne, this is... For how long have you been keeping this?" There was no malice to his tone, he just wanted to know how far along she was. She could hardly read his reaction as upset, not with the smile that spread across his lips.

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The shift in his tone softened her and the rage that had flooded her moments ago is suddenly replaced with guilt. Why had she become so hateful? Was it the babe in her belly making her so? She had never been around women who were with child…did such a condition alter their minds the way it had Brienne’s?

Slowly, she takes a step closer to him, the tears that had welled in her eyes finally spilling and running down pale cheeks.

“Jaime…” she whispered. “I don’t hate you. I could never. But…”

A hand moves to her belly, as though seeking strength from the babe that rests there. The maester believed her to be nearing five moons now…and whatever the outcome, Jaime had a right to know.

“I’m so frightened…”

They were words that ought never fall from a knight’s lips, but it was the truth. He would leave her, she knew. And then in a few moons, she would pass while birthing the babe, just like her own mother had when she was a mere two years old.

Hesitantly, with trembling hands, she removes the cloak she wears, taking a step back from Jaime and lifting her tunic just enough to reveal the swell of her belly.

“The maester gave me moontea but I couldn’t take it…I’m sorry…”

#IC #IC: Jaime

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     The crows had scarcely started on their corpses. The thin ropes cut deeply into the soft flesh of their throats, and when the wind blew they twisted and swayed. “This was not chivalrously done,” said Brienne when they were close enough to see it clearly. “No true knight would condone such wanton butchery.”      “True knights see worse every time they ride to war, wench,” said Jaime. “And do worse, yes.”      Brienne turned the rudder toward the shore. “I’ll leave no innocents to be food for crows.”

#c: Jaime #Images: Jaime #Brienne #Relationships: Jaime

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WOMEN OF DRAGON AGE: INQUISITION IV/∞ >> Seeker's smile

#c: Cassandra #Images: Cassandra