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#zevran x isabela
glasvera · 2 years
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Partner Swap (Day 2)
Isabela x Zevran & Fenris x Fem!Hawke
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Description: Smutember Day 2!!! (Just pretend it's 2 days ago it's fine) Before Zevran leaves after killing the pursuant Antivan Crows, he offers a proposition to the Champion of Kirkwall. Fenris outright refuses, but Isabela is more than ready. Hawke can’t deny her attraction to the former assassin, and she’s seen Fenris’s gaze linger on their pirate companion more than once, so she offers a proposition.
Warnings: SMUT (18+ only, Minors DNI!!!) vaginal sex, fingering, oral (F and M receiving)
A/N: this is the first time I've written for Dragon Age in like... 7? 8 years? It was nice to go back to some of my fanfiction roots. But as with all of these prompts, it's mostly unedited. Just pure word spewing.
Word Count: 3876
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“That depends. How much do you want to test that luck of yours?” Fenris’s gaze was that of cold steel as he stared down the Antivan elf in front of them, the sand crunching under his boots as he stepped forward possessively. Hawke huffed quietly to herself in mild frustration as her lover shot down the proposition before she’d gotten a say herself, shooting him a glance out of the corner of her eye.
Hawke was by no means unfaithful. She just grew up with a starkly different idea of what sex meant in the terms of a relationship, and she was more than a little excited to find a kindred soul in Zevran. The adrenaline of the recent fight was still pumping through her veins, and she’d be lying if she hadn’t fantasized about a few different scenarios upon being asked such a question.
“Well if you lot aren’t going to fuck him, then I suppose I will,” Isabella offered bluntly as she walked up from behind the two of them. 
“Ah, Isabela! It would be my pleasure,” Zevran replied with a curt bow of his head.
The pirate rolled her eyes at his gesture. “There better be some pleasure in it for me as well, or I won’t be sticking around for long,” she chided as they began to walk away. “I’ll catch up with you all later!” she called back with a wave of her hand.
Hawke crossed her arms with a grimace, disappointed in the outcome but not wanting to show it too much on her face.
“That girl has curious standards,” Varric observed, breaking the awkward silence in the group.
Hawke shrugged her shoulders. “I can kind of see it.”
Fenris stepped in front of her, looking at her as though she’d grown a second head. “You can’t be serious?” he snapped.
“What can I say?” she retorted, gesturing to him, “I have a type.”
He snarled at that. “Don’t even think about comparing me to him. We are nothing alike.”
Hawke cocked her head to the side, holding up a fist as she started counting on her fingers. “Tall, lithe, handsome, mysterious, sharp features, puppy eyes-”
“There are no puppy eyes,” he interrupted with a bark.
Varric chuckled as he watched their spat. “She’s got you pegged there, Broody.”
Fenris’s head snapped towards him, staring daggers at the dwarf as the lyrium flared in his markings with their telltale blue glow.
Varric raised his hands defensively, slowly backing away. “Alright, alright. I’ll be over here. Let you guys work this out,” he stated, heading over to one of the newly vacant tents left by the Crows.
“Fenris, what is your problem? It’s just sex,” Hawke complained. “Two attractive people appreciating each other’s attractiveness.”
His icy stare was redirected at her as his hands balled into fists. “Just sex? So did we just have sex then?” There was a hint of betrayal in his voice that made Hawke’s heart clench.
“Of course not!” she reassured, taking his hands in hers. “You’ve always been more than that to me. You know that.”
“And what if this Crow becomes more than just sex?” he asked, his tone laced with worry as his gaze softened. Ah. There were the puppy eyes.
Hawke sighed, shoulders dropping slightly. “Do you want more than sex when you look at Isabela?” She couldn’t help but snort when his eyes flashed open in defiant surprise. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring. It doesn’t bother me, you know,” she spoke softly as she brought a hand up to brush his cheek softly. 
Shamed, he avoided her gaze and turned his head to the side. “Hawke, I…”
“Hey,” she stopped him as she rested her hands on his shoulders. “How about we forget all this, and…” she gave him a little wink as she nodded her head in the direction of their departed companions, “go take care of some of our more… unique desires?” She bit her lip as she stared at him, waiting for him to meet her gaze again and consider her proposal.
He pursed his lips and furrowed his brow in thought for a moment as Hawke waited with baited breath. Blinking slowly, he finally looked back up at her.
“Just sex?” he asked, face twisting slightly as the unfamiliar concept left his lips.
Hawke nodded. “Just sex.”
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Fenris had his hand firmly clasped around Hawke’s as they strolled between the rocky outcrops towards Zevran and Isabela’s tent. It looked rather spacious, likely something akin to a commander’s tent or whatever the Antivan Crow equivalent might be. Before they had even rounded the corner towards it, his face began to heat up as he heard Isabela practically screaming Zevran’s name like a prayer.
He moved to turn around and go back whence they came. “Perhaps this was a bad ide-”
Hawke gripped his hand tighter and pulled him into her, crashing her lips to his. Instinctively, his other hand clawed at her waist and held her fast against him. The familiarness of her taste, her plush lips against his own, coupled with the sounds of the nearby lovemaking began to set a fire ablaze in his loins. He growled into her mouth and released her hand to grab the back of her head, lacing his fingers through her hair and pulling slightly. Hawke gasped against his lips as she smirked at his roughness.
“I think this was a great idea,” she teased, bringing a hand to cup his already hardening cock through his skin tight pants.
Fenris retaliated by biting her bottom lip, tugging it slightly as he angled his head to better devour her. They were so absorbed in themselves and feeling each other that they had yet to notice the moans subsiding and the flap of the tent opening next to them.
“Oh? Looks like we’re not the only ones having fun after all,” Isabela chortled as she watched the two of them.
“I’ve always been told I have a way with my lovemaking, but never did I think I could have this effect on others,” Zevran chuckled, lounging brazenly with his half hard cock out on display and Isabela’s slick decorating his face.
Fenris and Hawke snapped back to reality and pulled away from each other quickly, startled by their new voyeurs.
“Don’t stop on our account,” Zevran teased as he began to stroke himself. She stammered and struggled to say something in return, but Hawke’s eyes couldn’t help but be glued to the motions of his hand. Zevran took notice and raised a brow at the realization. “Unless you see something you like after all…?”
Meanwhile, Fenris was fighting for dear life to look Isabela in the eyes and not at her ample bosom. She chuckled and swayed her breasts back and forth, biting her lip as she gazed up at him through her long lashes as his Adam's apple bobbed with a gulp. “I think they both do, Zev.”
Hawke cleared her throat, suddenly feeling incredibly parched. “I, that is, we would like to erm… join you both?” she offered shyly. She felt herself getting weak in the knees at the sight of the assassin naked as the day he was born. “But we would like to, well,” she swallowed, gathering her thoughts, “we’d like to switch if that’s alright?”
“My dear Champion, I’m afraid I do not catch your meaning,” Zevran replied with a sly smirk as he ran the pad of his thumb across the tip of his dick.
“I would have Isabela, if you would have Hawke,” Fenris finally spoke up, now openly staring at the pirate’s chest.
“Oh! Now you are speaking my language!” Zevran chimed before gesturing at the two of them, “but you are both far too dressed for the occasion!” He stood up and strolled up to Hawke, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Do not fret, my angel. I am rather skilled in the disrobing of others,” he whispered with a wink. 
Hawke felt frozen in place as her eyes traced the contours of his face. Zevran chuckled as he began to unclasp the buckles and unravel the straps of her outer armor.
“So tense! This should be a time for relaxation.” He placed a kiss upon her soft lips, earning a soft whine as he copped a feel of her chest through her clothes while discarding her breastplate. He was seemingly an expert at both removing clothes as well as turning every delicate touch into a sensuous caress that sent heat straight to her core. He buried his face in the crook of her neck as he continued lower, sucking on a spot behind her ear as she keened.
Fenris’s ears twitched at hearing the pleasured sounds of his lover, somehow only turned on further by them as he began to approach Isabela. She stood up in front of him, placing a hand on his chest as she ran it lazily across his body while she walked around him. Pressing herself against his back, she danced her fingers across the planes of his chest and stomach, slowly trailing them lower. Fenris groaned at the feeling of Isabela’s breasts through the thin leather of his armor. He hissed as her fingers traced the outline of his cock while her other hand began to remove his armor as well.
“Oh my, I knew you would be a big one,” Isabela giggled as her breath tickled his ear. She pulled away from him to finish removing his upper armor, whistling as the taut muscles of his chest and back were revealed to her. “Hawke! It should be a crime to keep all of this to yourself,” she chastised jokingly as she immediately began to run her hands along his body again. She followed the lines of his tattoos with her finger, and they thrummed with a gentle glow at the attention.
Breaking out of his initial fog, Fenris began to reciprocate her touch. His eyes followed his hands as he felt the smooth skin under his fingers. He pulled her in by the waist, earning a soft squeak of surprise as his lips met hers. She tasted like spiced wine and smoke, and she was definitely more experienced at kissing than Hawke was. One of his hands reached up and palmed her breast, grunting into the kiss as he felt himself strain against his trousers.
Zevran had already led Hawke back into the tent, lying her down against the bedroll as he began to roll her pants down her legs with tantalizing slowness. She braced herself up on her elbows as she watched him, entranced by the way his every movement was stoking the flames of her arousal. She knew she would be dripping even before he removed her smalls but gasped all the same as the cool breeze of the open tent blew against her sopping core.
“My,” he admired as he stared at her openly as her chest heaved, “I have had many a conquest in my time, but you are sure to be one I will think back on often.”
Hawke blushed as he hovered over her, cock hanging low just above her entrance. He stopped for a moment, pondering something as Hawke lie back in wait. His eyes darted about the spacious tent before stopping on what appeared to be a large mirror in the far corner.
“Ah, yes. That will do.”
Isabela broke away from the kiss to watch her Antivan friend as he positioned the mirror in front of himself and Hawke. “Your vanity never ceases to amaze, Zevran,” she chastised as she fell to her knees in front of Fenris.
“This is just as much for me as it is for our lovely Champion!” he retorted. “It is only fair she gets to see both my beauty as well as hers during our coupling.”
Hawke blushed as he returned to her, offering her a hand for her to sit up. She complied and he pulled her into a kiss, his hands grabbing her ass as he squeezed the ample flesh in his fingers. He opened his eyes for a moment to watch in the mirror the way his nimble fingers groped her backside.
Fenris’s eyes widened as he watched the pirate drop in front of him, watching as she began to pull his pants and smalls down in one go. His cock bent uncomfortably for a moment before bobbing free and at attention in front of her face. She hummed contently before taking him in hand, stroking him languidly as his head fell back for a moment. When her mouth enveloped the tip of him, he let out a low, throaty moan.
“My, your lover truly makes the prettiest noises,” Zevran observed as he motioned for Hawke to turn around towards the mirror.
“Wait until you hear the way he growls,” Hawke replied as she reminisced about their previous sessions. “I swear I could cum from just his voice alone,” she chuckled.
“Now that I would pay to see, my dear,” he laughed as he massaged his palms into her shoulders and back. He reached his hands around to cup her breasts, relishing in the way her breath hitched when he tugged on her nipples. His cock nestled against the curve of her ass as he began to grind into her, trailing one hand down as he teased a finger at her wetness. She whimpered in his hold, bringing a hand up around his neck as the other held fast to his wrist as he toyed with her folds. He circled two of his fingers around his clit, making her buck into his hand as he peppered kisses along her shoulder and neck.
Fenris braced a hand against Isabela’s head as she took him fully into her mouth, sucking on him with wet, sloppy sounds as she leaned her hands on his thighs. He thrust into her lightly, not wanting to gag her, but found it harder and harder to control himself as she did her best to swirl her tongue around his shaft and licked at the tip with every thrust out. His fingers threaded themselves through her hair as her bandana slipped off, and he watched as she stared up at him, enraptured as she was by the way his face contorted in pleasure.
She pulled off him suddenly with a pop, laughing at his confused expression. “As much as I’d love to swallow every last drop,” she began, noting the way his eyes darkened at her words, “I’d much rather feel every last inch of you inside of me.” She stood up, taking his hand in hers as she led him back into the tent with Zevran and Hawke.
Zevran had already lined himself up with her entrance, sliding into her as he gently pushed her back forward and encouraged her to position herself on all fours. She keened at the feeling of him stretching inside her, her arousal amplified as she watched herself in the mirror and saw the way Zevran’s jaw dropped slightly.
Isabela twisted them around as they approached the adjacent bedroll, nearly throwing Fenris to the ground on his back as she straddled on top of him. She wasted no time as she positioned herself over him, sinking down onto his cock as she let out a moan at the feeling. Fenris was speechless, brow furrowing as he instinctively placed his hands on her hips. She bounced up and down on him, breathy moans spilling out of her mouth with every thrust.
“Hawke,” she gasped out between thrusts, “I say this with all the love in my heart, but-Oh! Fenris, fuck,” she interrupted herself as he began snapping his hips up into her from below, hitting a spot that made her eyes roll back, “you are a greedy whore for keeping him all to yourself until now.”
Hawke giggled between her own whimpers as Zevran began to fuck her. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the mirror, locking eyes with him as he grinned devilishly at her. He leaned forward, pushing her further down to the ground until her chest was flush with the blankets.
“Give me your arms, sweetheart,” he commanded, and she complied as she balanced her weight on her head and shoulders long enough to reach her arms back behind her. Zevran grabbed her wrists in his hands, pulling her towards him and using them as leverage as he began to fuck her harder. Every thrust was hitting her perfectly and she was almost certain she was seeing stars.
“Oh! Fuck! Zevran!” She couldn’t hold her voice back any longer as she began to scream his praises, her head thrown back as her hair fell in her face.
Zevran huffed with his exertions as he lost himself to the pleasure, watching in the mirror as her breasts bounced in time with the snapping of his hips.. “There are those sweet angelic noises I yearned for,” he chuckled as he picked up his pace, sweat beading on his forehead.
Fenris turned towards Hawke, watching the way her lips parted with each gasp and moan. She felt his gaze on her and glanced at him from the corners of her eyes with a love drunk smile that he couldn’t help but return. 
“I hope you haven’t forgotten about me so quickly, Fenris,” Isabella chided as she braced her hands on his chest. Her breasts hung in front of his face as her ass bounced up and down with a renewed vigor.
“As if you’d ever let anyone forget about you,” he shot back as he grabbed one of her breasts in his hand and sucked her nipple into his mouth. She gasped as her pace stuttered, and he snaked his other hand between her legs to toy with her clit.
“Shit!” Isabela cursed, feeling herself getting close. Fenris felt the way her walls fluttered around him and knew he couldn’t hold on much longer either. While laving his tongue around her nipple, he adjusted the angle of his thrusts until he knew from her keening that he’d hit the right spot, hammering into it while pleasuring her clit until she was seeing stars. “Shit, fuck, shit! Fenris!” she nearly screamed his name as she came around him, her whole body shuddering as she nearly fell on top of him.
He pulled away from her chest as he wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her flush to him as he pounded into her from below. Almost animalistic growls were drawn from his lips as he chased his own release, flipping them over halfway through so that she was beneath him as he continued. Isabela couldn’t help but be enamored by the way he bared his teeth in a snarl and screwed his eyes shut as he focused on the pleasure. His tattoos glowed brightly, flashing fiercely as his thrusts began to falter. He pulled out of her quickly, moving to take himself in hand until she swatted him away with her own and began stroking him fervently. His eyes flashed open as he watched her, huffing before finally cumming hard all over her stomach and tits. A rope of it landed on her lips and she licked it off, winking at him as she did so.
Zevran, never one to be shown up in acts of a sexual nature, yanked Hawke up by the arms so that she was on her knees with her arms and back flush against his chest. His thrusts never ceased and he used the new angle to capture her wrists in one hand while the other moved to rub her clit. He buried his face in the crook of her neck as he kissed and sucked marks into her skin.
“So beautiful,” he breathed as she whined and whimpered under his ministrations. “I can feel you getting close.” He looked over to Fenris who was watching her, completely enraptured by the sight of her completely losing herself on Zevran’s cock. “Would you like to assist her, my newfound friend?”
Hawke found it difficult to speak as she was left powerless and subject to his manhandling, and her head was spinning from the pleasure. Sure enough, she could feel the knot building in her core as he kept hitting her just right, but it wasn’t quite enough. She peeked through one eye just in time to see Fenris approach and he took her head in both hands, kissing her passionately as Zevran continued pounding into her. She gasped into his mouth and he took the opportunity, shoving his tongue in her mouth as he entwined it with hers. Her moans were lost in his mouth, turned into little more than pathetic squeaks and whimpers as she neared her peak.
“Can’t let you two have all of the fun,” Isabela commented as she came up to them, maneuvering between Fenris and Hawke as she propped herself on one elbow. She shooed Zevran’s hand away before gripping Hawke’s thigh and placing her lips on the woman’s clit, earning a high pitched squeal as she bucked into Zevran behind her. The pirate chuckled as she began to suck at the bud and swirl her tongue around it, occasionally dipping her tongue low enough to lick at the shaft of Zevran’s cock as it pistoned in and out.
Zevran hissed at the added stimulation. “You are truly a minx, my dear Isabela.”
Isabela simply giggled as she continued, the vibrations sending shocks through Hawke’s body as she felt herself getting dangerously close. Fenris’s kisses grew greedier as he listened to her coming undone, bringing his hands up to cup and massage her breasts. He pulled away for a moment, pressing his forehead against hers as she bounced from the thrusts. 
“Are you going to cum for us, my love?”
She opened her eyes to look into his, gasping softly at the way he looked at her, his pupils blown out with lust. All of the sensations of Zevran’s cock pounding into her walls and Isabela’s practiced lips on her clit coupled with the familiarity of Fenris’s hands and eyes on her sent her over the edge, convulsing as she cried out in ecstasy. Zevran let out a low moan before pulling out, shooting his seed onto her back as he finished moments after.
Isabela moved away just in time as Hawke collapsed onto the bedroll beneath her, completely spent. Zevran chuckled, his breathing heavy as he used a nearby rag to clean the mess off of her and Isabela both. Fenris sat cross legged next to her as he ran his fingers soothingly through her hair, and Zevran lied down next to Isabela as they all recovered from their exertions.
“Yes, I think I will definitely be thinking about this little session of ours for a while,” he chortled.
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jellydishes · 2 years
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I've posted a new work on my ao3! It's a smutty story between Fenris and Zevran and Isabela, wherein Zevran is transgender and Isabela is aromantic and everyone are saps :>
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wildercrow · 2 years
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Received Arlathan Gifts
we also received two wonderful fics  via the @arlathanxchange, which we would like to share so you all can have the opportunity to experience them with us. both are modern au kitchen disasters featuring isabela/zevran/fenris, which i thought was a very amusing coincidence. we are an easy audience to please, hah. and pleased we are -- both fics have brought us a great deal of joy.
--wolf
~*~*~
Un, Deux, Trois, Sway. Clap Your Hands, Do the Flambé by Elviah
Rating: Teen Ship: Isabela/Zevran/Fenris Word Count: 2043 Content Warnings: Mild sexual themes Summary: Fenris is trying to cook dinner for Zevran for their anniversary, but Isabela would rather do something else, at the cost of the smoke alarm going off. AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39253437
~*~*~
Something is burning! by Mimidae
Rating: Mature Ship: Isabela/Zevran/Fenris Word Count: 1047 Content Warnings: Allusions to trauma Snippet: 
“What in the fuck are you doing, Squiggles?” She wasn’t really annoyed, just mildly worried. Zevran stood on a chair, fanning the smoke alarm with a cookie sheet. He didn’t falter.
“Cooking. Thought you could use a breakfast in bed.”
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39253437
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alltears · 8 months
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dragon age twitter au? dragon age twitter au. KIRKWALL GANG
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milton-chamberlain · 2 years
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Wicked Grace
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eliphasgraham · 1 year
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Everytime i hear this banter between Bethany and Isabela i think about my dwarf warden who had a threesome with her and Zevran and i just decided she was talking about the Hero of Ferelden in drag.
And i drew it because no one can stop me.
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juniemoe · 1 year
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shivunin · 1 year
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Lock and Key
(Arianwen Tabris/Zevran | 2,298 Words | Hurt/Comfort | CW: Blood, brief references to torture and broken bones)
The torture, Zevran thought cynically, truly left something to be desired. 
Rather, he seemed to recall—when he’d been a young Crow, there’d been racks, burning oil, things hammered between one’s toes…But this? Breaking his fingers? Slapping him around?
It lacked  forethought.
It lacked…panache.
“I do not mean to complain,” Zevran told his torturer, spitting out a mouthful of blood, “But have you done this before?”
“What?” the hooded figure snarled, only their mouth and jaw visible beyond the hood and fabric they were swathed in. 
“Mmm,” Zevran said, peering up at them through one swollen eye, “It is only that you are…how shall I say it? Trying too hard, you understand? Most torturers—they adopt a certain style, a way of getting things done, and you seem—”
The figure reared back and kicked him in the chest. His lungs struggled to inflate for a moment, and when they did Zevran coughed convulsively. 
“Like that,” he wheezed, while the torturer stomped over to a small table of metal implements, “There is no sense of precision. You might have just stopped my heart, friend, and then where would you be? Luckily for you, I am made of sterner stuff than that.”
“Do you ever stop talking?” 
The voice came not from the figure to his left, but from above. It echoed against the far ceiling and the stone walls, spreading until it was almost impossible to tell where it had come from. 
Zevran, beaten and breathless, stretched his bloodied mouth into a crooked smile. 
“Ah,” he told the hooded figure, “I am terribly sorry for what is about to happen to you.”
The torturer, alarmed, snatched a blade from the table and hurled it into the darkness above the rafters. There was no sound; not the thud of the blade in flesh or wood, nor the sound of metal clattering to the ground. Half a second later, the blade whistled back down, thudding into the flesh of the cloaked figure’s arm. 
“Your aim is lacking,” the voice from above said.
“I said precisely the same thing, mi vida,” Zevran said, at long last allowing his head to fall back against the wooden back of the chair he was tied to, “I am sorry to say it, but there is a certain lack of professionalism at play here.”
“You shut up,” she said, and Zevran smiled, “I mean it. The smile, too. Flames, I could kill you.”
“It would not take much doing at the moment,” he told her. 
As they spoke, the torturer ripped the blade from their shoulder with a grunt of pain (a bad idea, that; anyone could have told them that it was wiser to leave the thing in place until a healer could take a look at it). 
“Show yourself, coward,” the torturer snarled, taking several more blades from the table and staring up at the ceiling. They turned slowly, as if trying to spot the shape of their assailant against the darkness of the ceiling.
If he’d been in a more charitable mood, Zevran might have told them it was pointless. 
Indeed, as he thought so, a low laugh came from above, and there was a clatter in the far corner, almost directly behind the torturer. The torturer spun, already throwing a blade toward the source of the noise. As soon as they turned, a cloaked figure dropped from the rafters soundlessly, thrust a dagger into the place where the torturer’s kidney ought to be, and vaulted back up into the ceiling again. 
“You know,” she said above him, “I think it’s more cowardly to beat a bound man. But that’s just me.”
A ring of keys fell from the ceiling and into Zevran’s lap. Of course; that was why she hadn’t killed his tormentor outright. She meant for him to do it instead. Balance, retribution; in her way, his Arianwen was all about balance. If he’d had the energy, Zevran would have thanked her for the effort and explained why he wouldn’t be doing that. It was hard to turn a key, after all, when most of one’s fingers were broken. 
He didn’t hear her move; he supposed the torturer didn’t, either, because Wen swung down, kicked the large human into the table, and vanished again before the fallen figure could get their bearings again. 
Something soft touched his wrist, bound behind him, and Zevran felt a quiet, shuddering breath at his back. She was going to be very cross with him as soon as she took care of their present company; Zevran winced at the thought, then hissed between his teeth when the motion reopened the slice over his eyebrow. 
This time, when Arianwen moved away from him, Zevran could hear her; that could only be on purpose. The torturer heard it too, and turned to face her as she cast off the deep blue cloak, variegated with grey and black around the hem. Arianwen stood before him revealed at last, her long braid hanging down her back, her armor blue and silver and gleaming in the light of the brazier. Zevran smiled; it was a fool’s smile, punch-drunk and high from his own relief, but…well. It was just so good to see her. It’d been too long. Too many days without feeling her at in his arms, too many days fighting himself to keep from returning to her side. 
“I was going to let him have you,” she said, “Or, if he allowed it, I was going to take my time. Fortunately for you, you’ve made me very, very angry. This’ll be quick.”
The torturer didn’t answer; they bent their head and ran, aiming right for her. Wen didn’t move for a long time—almost too long—and stepped aside at the last moment, exerting precisely as much effort as she needed to get out of the way. It looked, Zevran thought, turning his head as best he could to watch, like she simply floated away from him, like a feather in the breeze. The torturer rammed their injured shoulder into a column and let out a strangled shout. 
“Don’t worry,” Wen said to Zevran as she passed, “The building’s empty.”
“There were at least thirty—” he began, and interrupted himself with a cough. 
“As I said,” the Warden answered, casually lifting an iron from the fire and striding past, “The building is empty. Don’t worry. I’ll be quick.”
There were sounds that followed her statement, but he could not see their source. He didn’t need to know what she was doing, and he had the sense that not every time he closed his eyes lasted as long as a blink. Likely, that was not a good sign
“Zevran. Look at me, you fool.”
His eye fluttered open—the other seemed stuck shut—and Wen bent before him, her face beatific in its joy. Blood dripped from her ears and clumped in her hair, but she’d wiped her face clean, if the smears along her jaw were any clue. Zevran tried to smile up at her and was mostly successful. 
“I knew you would come.”
“You’re an idiot. I don’t know why I put up with you. That letter was—” she wound up the sentence with a sharp click of the teeth instead of any descriptors, but after a moment the blissful look crept back into her eyes. 
“Take your health potion like a good boy, hm? And I’ll haul you back to the safe house.”
Zevran might have made a crack about her wording, but as soon as he opened his mouth she pressed the cold glass rim of a vial in between his teeth and tipped it upside-down. The liquid was bitter and cold. Though there was a faint aftertaste of elfroot it was most certainly not a health potion.
“Wen—?” he gasped, and the room faded to black. 
|
Arianwen had been angry very often in her life. She enjoyed it, actually. There was a clarity of purpose to rage that most of the rest of life really seemed to lack. It was like…like crossing rooftops on a wire. Rage gave one a single clear path, and if one had the means to follow it things usually turned out alright in the end. 
But now—now her old friend turned on her, hounded her steps. 
Killing so many had been good enough in the moment, of course, but Zevran had needed to be unconscious for what came next, and she hadn’t wanted to give him the chance to talk her out of it. Now, all she could do was wait; there was nobody left to kill, and Zevran was not awake to argue with. As she paced the room, rage paced with her, shadowing her steps and clouding her concentration.
She crossed the room to open the window now, for the room was more or less empty of personality and furniture save an end table, a bed, and a chair. Zevran slept in the bed, his chest rising and falling easily. Few of his wounds would scar, not that he’d care about such things. He’d gained tattoos since she’d last seen him some…oh, had it been five months already? It felt like years. 
This waiting. 
Wen braced her hands on the windowsill, her fingers tapping out a staccato rhythm, and then she turned back to the bed. 
Maker damn him, she loved the man. She’d kill a dozen times as many for him with pleasure, but seeing him hurt like this was—it was—
“Mi vida,” he murmured to her left, and Wen spun on her heel to look at him, “And here I had thought you were some sort of dream.”
She crossed to the side of the bed, her heart in her throat. She ought to say…she ought to tell him what an idiot he was. She ought to tell him off; she’d certainly thought of doing so enough times. But words escaped her now, and when he lifted his hand from the bed it was to wipe the moisture from her cheek. 
“Ah,” he said, wincing when he lifted himself onto one elbow, “No, my Arianwen, no; do not cry for me. I cannot—”
“Why are you trying to get yourself killed?” she asked, and rage took her hand again, gave her the focus to keep talking. 
“I am not—” he began, frowning, but she interrupted him. 
“When will it be enough, Zev? Do you want to lead the Crows? Kill everyone who hurt you, who bought other kids like you? Do you want to be the King of Antiva? What? Because I can’t keep—can’t keep seeing you like this. If you need help, I will help; if you want me out of your life, then tell me to leave. But I can’t—”
She was crying again—so stupid. She hadn’t cried in years, and certainly never over him. He was staring at her with a sort of stunned horror that she might, if she’d had any sort of composure, have recognized better. It was the same face she was making, after all. 
Don’t leave me, she wanted to tell him; as she wanted to tell him every time he disappeared onto a boat. But she’d been too proud to force him into a cage when he wanted the sky, so she’d always turned away instead.
“What do you think I should do?” he asked. 
The hand wet with her tears fell away to the sheets of the bed. 
For one dizzy, breathless moment, she wished he’d stayed asleep a little longer, given her more time to find the right words. But she…she….
“I want you to marry me,” she said, and it was already too late to take back. His mouth fell open, lips moving as if to speak, but nothing came out. 
“Marry me,” she said again, grasping his hand in both of hers, “Tell me you want to live, and you want to live with me. Travel if you have to, but come home again. Live with me; be mine and let me be yours. I want a life, Zevran. I want a life for both of us.”
She searched his face, her heart racing harder than it had killing an entire house full of Crows on her way to her captured lover. Zevran stared at her, and slowly, slowly, a smile wrinkled the space on either side of his eyes. 
“Yes.”
Wen blinked and squeezed his hand. 
“Yes? You mean that? You’re not just—you aren’t going to take it back?”
“Maker’s pierced navel,” he said, struggling into a sitting position, “You do not believe me? And you were so persuasive, too.”
“No, I—” She clamped her mouth shut again and shook her head, “Yes, Zev?”
“Yes. Yes. Yes, of course, you beautiful murderess.” 
She didn’t mean to lunge for him; would’ve thought better of it if she’d had the wherewithal. But all at once she was in his arms, her own wrapped tight around his neck, and both of them rocked back with the force of it. 
“I love you,” she said into the salty skin of his neck, and kissed him there for good measure, “I love you. I love you.”
“I love you,” he murmured back, and inhaled sharply, “Ah—I should have known you would say something first.”
“I knew you wouldn’t want to force me,” she told him, but without any heat behind it. Her anger had faded away between one step and the next, gone in a breath and only a memory now. 
“If you’d died,” she told him, eyes squeezed shut, breathing him in, “I would’ve killed you.”
His laugh was uneven, a little breathless, and likely that meant she’d need to let go of him soon. But when his words came, they were certain. 
“Yes, I know,” Zevran said, “I love you for that, too.”
(For @14daysdalovers day 10: Captured)
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elavoria · 1 year
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My warden Amaryllia and all her knightly menfolk, plus some rogues for good measure—Loghain [first husband], Cullen [second husband], Sten [Blight boyfriend], Ser Perth [Redcliffe fling], Greagoir [au husband], and Zevran/Leliana/Isabela [that thing that happened one time].
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barbex · 4 months
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Hello hello and happy Friday! I wish you would write a scene featuring Fenris, Isabela, and Zevran in a cuddle pile! Whether the cuddle pile is platonic, romantic, or somewhere in between is entirely up to you~ :3c
Thank you for this prompt for @dadrunkwriting! Cuddle pile coming up!
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Something itches in Isabela's nose. Opening one eye, she identifies it as Fenris' white hair. Turning around, she expects another body, but that side of the bed is empty. She blinks against the light, looking around the small room. 
"He will be right back," Fenris mumbles into the pillow. 
"Where is he?" Isabela can't help but worry. She doesn't like it when Zevran goes alone. Too many people want him dead.
Before Fenris can answer her question, a commotion on the street below the window has Isabela sigh and get up. She opens the window, and sure enough, a second later, Zevran swings into the room, as if he just happened to fly up here. The scent of freshly baked goods comes in with him. 
Isabela closes the window again and pulls the curtains closed. "You do know we can pay for our bread rolls?"
Zevran holds up the linen bag in his hand. "Oh, but I did! That —" he gestures towards the noise down on the street. "That was something else. Just a little, but necessary, distraction." 
"You are both too loud." Fenris turns his back to them, his shoulders speaking of his annoyance. 
"Poor grumpy elf," Isabela says and climbs on top of Fenris curled up body. "Do you still need your beauty sleep?"
"Ah, that cannot be," Zevran exclaims, overly dramatic. "More beauty in one such elf is impossible to handle." He shrugs off his clothes and climbs onto the bed, scooting under the covers to wrap his arms around Fenris.
Some unidentifiable noise comes from Fenris, but he unfolds himself and draws Isabela and Zevran into his arms. "Menaces, both of you," he growls. With a kiss to Zevran's forehead and to Isabela's cheek, he closes his eyes again with a happy sigh.
They should probably get going, but Isabela can't bring herself to care.
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sxrensxngwrites · 10 months
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headcanon requests!
i’m feeling like trying my hand at some headcanon requests! send in some general ideas/prompts and i’ll probably do a bunch for different characters :) definitely for dragon age, but also check out my request posts for other fandoms i vibe with.
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sulky-valkyrie · 1 year
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Hey Val!! Challenge time! “Yeah, that’s my partner over there. Oh, and right there is my other partner. I am so lucky to have them, actually.” for Zevran, Isabela, and Fenris?
I didn't use the prompt dialogue exactly, but I hope you'll forgive me <3 for @dadrunkwriting
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Someone was pounding on the mansion door.  “Fenris!”  The echo and the distance made it impossible to recognize the voice over the throbbing of his head. 
He groaned and pulled the pillow over his ears.  It didn’t help.  Wine hangovers could be bad enough, but Antivan port was a whole new world of pain.  A hand caressed his back.  “Oh, sweetie, you really overdid it last night.”
“You’ve made a deal with a demon,” Fenris grumbled.  “That’s the only explanation why you’re upright.”
Bela chuckled softly as she stroked his hair, and even that hurt.  Or maybe it was the continued banging on the door.  “Should I go get rid of Hawke?”
“How do you know it’s him?”
“Who else would it be?”
He rolled over and rubbed his temples.  “He normally just barges in.”
She picked up her shirt, sniffed it, made a face, then grabbed his tunic and pulled it over her head.  It barely covered her ass and looked far better on her than it ever had on him.  “True, but he saw us head out together last night; maybe he’s trying to be polite.” 
“Trying, perhaps, but failing.”
Bela snorted.  “It’s what he does best.”
“Trying?  Or failing?”
She laughed, making him wince, and padded out, bare feet blessedly soundless as Fenris carefully sat up.  He heard the front door creak open, and an exclamation of surprise, then Aveline’s voice wafted up toward the bedroom.
“Nuncio said he’s a murderer.  Hawke thought it was a load of nugshit, so he passed it off to the guard.  And why are you here, anyway?”
“For sex, naturally!  I believe you’re familiar with the concept - Maker, I hope you are.  Married three years and he better be cupping your Joining, if you know what I mean.”
“Why is it always sex with you?” Their voices were getting closer.
“What else would it be?  I just told you that’s why I’m here.  And why Fenris isn’t going anywhere today.”  
His leggings were within reach, but putting them on felt like too much work, especially considering the roiling chaos in his belly.  “What, did you tie him up?”
“Hardly.  Someone learned that he can’t drink Antivan port the same way he drinks wine, and by the Maker, I’m going to get what I came here for.”
“This is serious, Isabela. This Zevran is a menace - I’ve heard about him before.  Tried to kill the Hero of Fereldan, for the Maker’s sake.”
The bed shifted behind Fenris and an arm snaked around his waist as a kiss was pressed to his hip.  “I did no such thing.  They didn’t have the title at the time.”
He smiled and reached back to ruffle Zevran’s hair.  “So who is this Nuncio?”
Zevran rolled over.  “Just another Crow, mi amor.  They come in flocks, you know.  This one believes strongly in delegation, but I suppose he’s decided I’ve killed enough of his House.”  He sighed.  “Such a waste.”  He slipped off the bed and started digging through the clothing that had been strewn about the room over the course of yesterday evening’s activities.  “I have something for that head of yours.”
Fenris snorted, then grimaced as he squeezed the back of his neck to try to ease the pain.  “Poison, I hope?”
“For you? No,” Zevran chuckled.  Bela and Aveline were arguing their way up the stairs, and Zevran pulled a dagger out nonchalantly.  “For our visitor?  Depends.”
He shook his head, then leaned on the table by the bed, breathing slowly through his nose, as a wave of dizziness and nausea hit him.  “Unlikely.”
The door banged open as Aveline barged in.  “The guard needs your help.”
“The guard can make an appointment,” he grumbled as he headed past her to the privy.
“Fine, this is the meeting to schedule the appointment,” Aveline snapped, catching his arm.  “The appointment to go find an Antivan Crow menacing my city.”
“Oh surely you can settle this amicably!”  Zevran exclaimed.  “A Crow can be a deadly beast, and a team not in full harmony will have a terrible time bringing one to his knees, even if he wants to be there.”
She let go of Fenris’ arm in surprise.  “Who the void are you?”  She blinked a few more times to try to adjust her eyes to the darkness of the far corner.  “And why are you naked?”
Bela laughed.  “I told you: for sex.  Also, congratulations on apprehending the suspect.”  She ruffled Aveline’s hair.  “However, we’re still using him.”
“Using and abusing!” Zevran said cheerfully as he slipped the dagger back into its sheath, so casually that it looked like he’d just happened to be holding it rather than readying to kill someone.  “Now, am I coming quietly or loudly?  And will you be taking me directly to Nuncio after that?”
Isabela frowned.  “Zev, you don’t -”
“Oh, mi amor, you’re so mistaken.  This was the point all along.”
Aveline sighed and pinched her nose.  “You’re lucky.”
“To have them?”  Zevran grinned.  “I thank the Maker for them every day.”
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bluerose5 · 2 years
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Of course I ended the game tonight with Darrian sleeping with Isabela and Zevran. Was that ever in question that it would happen? Three of my favorite bisexuals, whatever will they do. I mean, have you heard Isabela's voice? Be still, my beating heart.
Also, Zevran is definitely the master of consent, and I think that's very sexy of him.
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wildercrow · 8 months
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Safe To Shore by Nuri (SpicyIsopods)
Fandom: Dragon Age Rating: Teen Characters: Isabela, Zevran Main Relationship: Uh... that sure is a relationship alright!!! (Isabela and Zevran are on some sort of awkward precipice between FWB and queerplatonic partners at this point in the plot, but that's largely irrelevant to this particular interaction because Isabela is age regressed the whole time.) Genre: Hurt/Comfort Word Count: 1137 Content Warnings: Nonspecific references to past trauma AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50478391 Preview:
“Zevran?” Isabela peeks her head into the room they’re sharing at the Montiliyet Estate for the next few weeks. (She misses Zevran’s old apartment, where she used to stay when visiting Antiva. But now that Zevran lives and travels with her, the both of them need somewhere to stay, and… well, free room and board is free room and board.) Her voice doesn’t come out the way she wants it to. The usual playful lilt is gone, replaced with something small and fragile. Like a frightened child. She feels like a frightened child. She wants to hide. The last thing she wants to do is talk to anyone while she’s like this. It’s humiliating and terrifying. But that hardly seems practical. So she goes to the person who she knows will understand. He’s the only one here who’s seen her like this before. One of the few people in existence who’ve seen her like this before, in fact.
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theprincesslibrary · 2 years
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@/rabentanz_ Zevran's has been leaving in my head rent-free and so I've decided to exhume one of my old WIP and actually finish it. 
 The power of thirst.
The circumstances of Luis’ passing were never really clear in-game. What we know is that Zevran’s killed him in his bed. Or did he?
Isabela swears she did not intend to have him killed, but considering Luis wanted to sell her, one might wonder: what truly happened that night? Since the story varies - one version in DA2, one version in DA: the silent grove - I’ve decided to write my own versions. Plural. 
If Isabela can tell two different tales, so can I.
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juniemoe · 1 year
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isabela: i do, however, wish to know my potential student better, so shall we call for a drink and you will honor me with a game?
warden surana: are there no other ways for us to get to know each other?
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