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technicianuprisingau · 1 year

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"I QUIT."

As the dust settled, the two partners felt some sort of fatigue. The drill arm barely grazed their foe, who only stared back at them in return. It was clear that the new technique they invented was working pretty well.

"…we won, b•tch," Robobot Armor hissed at Bonfire, the person who had masquerading everything from the beginning, the one who had tried to make a rift between them and their master, the one who — admittedly — taught them more things about this world and how they work, the person that also separated their system with their body to stir another problem… Honestly, they decided to deal with it later, because to be fair, this entire fight is a pain in the ass.

"Disengage that drill, Robobot…" Kirby called out to the other. "We don't need any murder to solve this."

"Understood," Robobot only responded, still miffed that they can't eliminate — no, kill — this annoying waste of space, but obeyed anyways. They looked around after flipping their arm back to normal, slowly coming to realize how the whole infiltration took what could be counted as hours. Yet there's still a part of them that still has all that adrenaline going. Really shows how bonds can lead a long way. Kirby got off his trusty friend's cockpit and sighed, looking at what remained from the room.

To say it was a mess would be an understatement.

"I see that you have made your choice…" Bonfire spoke, as the mechanical suit moved off. "To be fair… I should've not done that procedure on you, haven't I?"

"Shut the f•ck up," Robobot grunted angrily, staring at the haltworker sharply. "You're pretty damn lucky my master is not the one to drip blood."

"…still with your dependance on your 'master'. I thought you were planning to make a change?" Bonfire asked.

"Yeah, but not with your way, dipsh•t," they grumbled again. "I want to be strong but I don't want to be used as a f•cking tool either."

"It's like your master is any better. He is unwilling to understand how his kindness can kill him. Don't you think his softness could stunt you from your own strength?" Bonfire looked at the pink puffball, seemingly unamused. "I still can't believe you were born from him. How strange it is that such a weak individual gave birth to someone like you. But it doesn't matter. This war is a hopeless fight. The natives will always fall at the end. And with them, you will, too. You're just a machine, and you too wouldn't last long."

As the last sentence echoed around the room, Kirby turned his head straight at Bonfire, giving him quite the cold glare.

"I'm sorry, that's my friend you just insulted over there!" he stood up, but not moving from his spot. "They are more than just a machine! And I don't care if they ended up different because I was the one who accidentally woke them up! I am glad they grew up to be themselves!"

"Oh, now you're talking?" Bonfire sneered, picking up his gun. "You need to realize that you were just lucky all these times."

"And I am GRATEFUL for that, actually!" Kirby retorted. "I've nearly died several times in fact. And now that I have a friend, the chances of not dying has now increased significantly. And yes, Robobot's my friend. You have problems with it?"

"How could you be so lonely that all you do is to be friends with a scrap of metal that would inevitably die?" Bonfire shot back with venom within his words. "You're nothing but an inferior being. In fact, you don't deserve this technology at all. At the end of the day, you don't matter much but as a fodder for your kind. So it's best that you step back. You don't deserve to be an admin, or a 'master', for that matter. Now-"

Before Bonfire could add more words to his supposedly demoralizing speech, Robobot Armor had enough of what he just said. Detriment themselves? That's fine. Detriment their master? That crossed the f•cking line! Seething with nothing but pure rage, the mechanical suit simply cuts the haltworker's words with a deck to the face, much to Kirby's… surprise? Horror? He doesn't know how to react here, he was speechless as Robobot finally went loose.

"Couldn't you shut the f•ck up?!" Robobot shouted at the top of their voicebanks, finally losing it. The mechanical suit grabbed Bonfire and slammed the poor bastard to the ground, before yelling even more to drive their point across. "MY MASTER ISN'T SOME F•CKING IDIOT! YOU ARE THE IDIOT FOR ALL OF THIS BULLSH•T YOU'RE CAUSING!"

"Robobot, please-" Kirby attempted to console, only for the armor to ignore.

"You expected me to DIE?! TO GET F•CKED LIKE THE REST?! ACTUALLY, YOU CAN KINDLY GO F•CK YOURSELF, BECAUSE I. AM. NOT. GOING. TO DIE! I WILL SURVIVE WITH MY MASTER!" they announced loudly, not showing signs of stopping as they pinned Bonfire to the ground with one hand and getting ready to punch with the other before beating the ever living crap out of him with little mercy. "I'LL LIVE AS LONG AS I WANT TO, UNTIL THE LAST OF MY BREATH, AND IF YOU WANT TO PROTEST, YOU CAN PROTEST ALL YOU F•CKING WANT IN HELL!"

The eyes of Kirby only widened at the violence his friend was causing. Last time he was only able to barely hear them going berserk at that… hologram thing. But now, he got the front seat on the situation, and honestly… It was kind of terrifying. From the shouting and the yelling, it was clear how strong the mechanical being's emotions are, as it was far stronger than his own. Dear Nova.

As the beatdown commenced, Robobot had devolved into ranting about how stupid the whole thing was. All they wanted was to know why they feel off in this world, all they wanted was to find confirmation as why all of this fell into place, all they wanted was to find their origins, but no, instead they find themselves unable to protect anyone they are supposed to be protecting, and they find themselves being used to kidnap their master's best friend. What a sh•tshow and a waste of time it all was, they remarked between all that rage-fueled shouting. Eventually, Kirby gritted and backed off several meters away… before jumping straight inside of the cockpit, swiping control before his friend would have dealt even more of a fatal blow.

"Stop!" Kirby shouted.

The room was sunk into silence afterward.

"…foolish child. I thought you'd use this chance to let me die," Bonfire snarled.

"Well we just want all of this crap to end, actually," Kirby said, still trying to restrain Robobot as their pilot-in-charge. "And you're not making it any better!"

"I'm just doing orders, I do whatever is the best for the company," Bonfire stated.

"Then whatever is best for the company… Is pretty much sh•t," Robobot finally stated back before they threw the haltworker to a nearby wall.

As soon as his body hits the steel wall, Bonfire grunted in pain. His gun was no longer in his hands. Like he could move anyways, since what Robobot did likely broke his spines and joints. It hurts to do anything now.

Kirby huffed, deciding to, well, just take whatever while he still can. He grabbed the gun, kept it within his helmet's inventory, and looked at the haltworker that had been quite the nuisance to his friends.

"You know, no one's going to harm my friends like that without any sort of payment, so… I'll be taking these," Kirby grumbled as he pulled out Bonfire's gloves from his hands, before keeping them inside his inventory. "I won't kill you since I believe in second chances — and I know that people usually learn from their mistakes anyway — but if you try anything stupid with my friends again after this, MIGHT AS WELL YOU DIE!"

The warning echoed throughout the room, twice louder than Robobot's own 'ranting session' or whatever that was. It was clear that he meant business this time. The pink puffball groaned in annoyance over the events that had happened before heading to the exit door.

"Come on, Robobot, we gotta free Bandee…" Kirby told his friend.

"Give me a f•cking minute, Master Kirby," Robobot respectfully answered. "I'll get my ass there shortly."

"Alright! Just… don't stay too long, okay?" he nodded, leaving first.

Robobot Armor only nodded, watching as Kirby entered the door. They still have something to tell to the haltworker, and they were going to make sure this one sticks as well as what Kirby just said. They knelt to Bonfire's level, before whispering quietly so only him alone can hear them.

"F•ck you and your stupid ass company. Even if my 'vessel' was your stuff or whatever that hell that was, you're NEVER my creator to begin with, you little sh•ts. Master Kirby is, and now it is my obligation to keep him safe as his guardian, and if anyone else in your sh•thole says otherwise, they can f•ck off for all I care, or if not they can meet something more than just a damned punch to the face," they said, before flipping their arm into a drill arm again and pointing it to Bonfire to make their point. "I. QUIT."

Once a few seconds passed, they flipped their converted arm to normal and walked unflinchingly to follow Kirby, clearly showing more resolution, while Bonfire huffed, calling for an SOS to be sent back to the mothership above before muttering to himself.

"…it seems like that chip did something more than just replicating bonds…"

***

#technicianuprisingstory #kirby #kirby au #kirby series #kirby planet robobot #technician uprising #i swear you'll have some context later #i am most likely going to post the stories in a random order #did you know this is an old story #yes i am reposting them here because they are all canon #robobot armor #uhhhh i think i forgot something #we'll get there when we get there

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ducknotinarow · 2 years

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"Loki!" Thor called, pleasantly surprised upon seeing his brother, "I thought you had died! How is this possible!"

| muse interaction

Sat on the steps, with a hiss of pain escaping him oh the near escape to piss others off were all fun and games, till real pain started to get involved. One would think someone who spent so much time avoiding that would be, well better at avoiding that one bit. Looking himself over he seemed mostly unscathed outside some cuts here and there and maybe a bruise or two. Resting back seemed he would be fine, once he was done licking his figurative wounds. What he needed most was a moment of peace, as he sucked in a deep breath of air.

"Loki!"

"I thought thunder only followed the rain" he grumbled under his breath before turning to look over his shoulder, and sure enough as ever-present was his brother's thunderous voice. Stood Thor. Loki quirked his mouth at the sight of them moving to stand holding his breath as he made use of his illusions to cover up the evidence of any harm. As if he would let Thor of all see him in such a sorry state.

"I thought you had died! How is this possible!"

"What?" Loki answered with letting a chuckle escape him soon after as if such a thought shouldn't have even crossed Thor's mind. To be fair Loki had pulled this stunt a couple of times already, even if it was nice to see how..happy they looked about the reveal that he wasn't dead. "Of course I'm alive, what just because I'm not some beef-up muscle head like you, you assume I could die so easily. Hmm how little you think of me brother." He went on to boast about, going to take a step forward but as pain suddenly shot up into his side he soon hesitated in the action. Sucking air in between his teeth as he tied not to react outwardly about the pain coursing through him at the moment.

Oh, that hurt more than he had thought it would. Loki's hand rested on to his side a moment, throwing his free hand onto his brother's shoulder. Offered what he thought was a believable laugh as if the idea of him dying was what had him reacting like this now. Shifting his weight more towards Thor needing to use them to keep himself up right now. Musting enough energy to stand up fully as he went on smiling himself. "I mean look I am clearly at the peak of health. Thinking I died absurd, I guess you just can't help it being the older one and all." Pushed off from thier shoulder thinking he had it in him to continue forward now.

Loki lasted all three steps before his knees buckled and soon gave out on him. Cursing his body for not being a team player in his little act just now as he doubled over. Resting up against the nearest wall to keep from fully falling onto the ground. It was too much to keep the illusion up as well letting the glamor fall showing just how much of a battered mess he was. Cuts and bruises not to mention the dents in golden armor. Admittedly he was far more upset about that. Gasping for breath and his breath became ragged, every inch of his body felt like every nerve was on fire as the pain rang out inside of him. "Alright..maybe the thought isn't too absurd. If you smiling knock it off I'll still hit you for it." Loki went on to threaten to them as he continued to walk hands on the wall to keep himself upright. "Now just got fly off do whatever it is you do when you are not annoying me. As you can see I'm busy and don't have time for you now." Loki explained as if he wasn't clearly in serious pain with each step he was taking in the moment.

#muse| loki #aflockoffeathers #madamkezzie #[ taken different paths traveled different roads aflockoffeathers]#muse interaction #stay qeued #((Loki I rather kill over then say im hurt and may need help from my brother u_u))

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yandere-sins · 4 years

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Since your request's open, I was wondering if you could do a geralt yandere where he's in a village with darling, when the pair sees a pregnant couple. Darling makes the mistake of gushing over how lovely couple looks and how their child would look just as lovely. Geralt then takes this as darling wanting a child of their own. Since witchers can't technically have children, this frustrates him and makes him go a little feral back at home and just breeds darling into oblivion.

Thank you for requesting! Hope you enjoy ^-^

Rated Lemon

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

You were no newbie to the topic of sex. And surely no rookie to the feeling of Geralt’s cock buried inside you.

Still, he usually wasn’t as ferocious as he was that night. You two barely made it back to a tavern, his hands constantly all over you, grasping at what his gloved fingers could reach. Throwing you over his shoulder and navigating Roach into a designated spot, he only grunted, “Room,” at the innkeeper, throwing way too many coins into his direction before staggering upstairs in the next best private room with an open door.

Geralt was many things. A witcher most of the time, murderer to some. You’re always doting, a little possessive partner usually, and on some nights a lover. He’d never let you become what he was, but you were thankful for the guidance that he gave you after you traveled so long to meet him. To you, he was a legend, somewhat of a hero - even if other people didn’t see in him what you saw.

Perhaps, you were a little blinded by the holiness of traveling with the person you were praising to the heavens and back. Maybe it would have done you good to see the truth more clearly, realize what really was going on. It’s not like the love and admiration you felt was something you expected him to reciprocate, but you liked to imagine that the hints he showed you were his form of affection only for you. He cared, always keeping other people who gave you lecherous sideglances a good scare. And despite you being a burden and sometimes too rowdy for the companion of a witcher, he did his best to keep you around.

Surely you could do without getting strapped to Roach ever so often, so that he could keep you where you were and not follow him into dangerous areas. And admittedly, he took your words a bit too serious sometimes, buying you whatever you deemed ‘fancy’ and taking more than the usual odd job to pay for it. You also really couldn’t remember a night anymore without him watching you falling asleep, laying on top of you all night, and then greeting you even before you opened your eyes. It was intense some nights, where you insisted on sleeping on the floor or at least as far away as the bed allowed, Geralt just sighing and pulling you closer again. A war of tug that only ended with you back in his arms, suffocating by his embrace, standing no chance against muscles and knowledge of what would make you subdue to his strength.

Geralt also tended to misunderstand you - a lot. That morning you had sighed longingly at a small family of three, so happy as they taught the little toddler to walk. Not like you wanted a child or a to settle down, but you might have joked about how cute it would be if the two of you did build a family of your own someday. Had you known it would have caused the pressure in his pants, your hips grinding against his as he turned around and urged Roach back to a city with an inn, you would have worded it more carefully for sure.

But this way, you were out of options other than complying. Geralt always had a need for efficiency, and he usually did not waste time on minor things. While he still worked to strip himself out of gear and armor, his fingers were already tugged under your undies, freeing one leg of any hindrance like clothes. Part of you was well aware of what was happening, but it felt different than usual. Latest by the force he tugged at your ankle as you tried to move up the bed and make some space for him, you knew this wasn’t what you could expect from laying with him.

Parting your legs, this clearly wasn’t the love-making you were used to, glove barely off his fingers as he pushed his digits in to test the waters. You flinched, self-lubrication being a wonder of nature, but not always the most reliable form of self-help. Reaching for his wrist, you tried to pry him out again when his second hand snaked behind your neck, pushing you forward and against his lips, rough and demanding.

He at least changed the number of fingers to one as he pumped it in and out of you, trying to arouse his hole. Still wearing more clothes than usual, the fabric brushing up against your thighs with the harshness of worn-out cotton, sending stings of pleasure up your nerves. His hair fell in your face, and before you knew it, you were breathing him in more than you were getting air to supply your body with, falling victim to the man.

When he finally laid you down, you were enticed with his touches, seduced by the feeling of his lips and tongue crawling down your skin from your lips to your collarbones, nipping at your shoulder. Hands came up to caress your nipples, pushing the annoyance that was your shirt aside for access. You couldn’t notice the goosebumps that appeared on his skin when your first moan escaped you, no one else but you bringing this kind of tickle over him these days. It was a desirable sound, urging him on, telling him that what he was doing was right, and he was quick to free his stiff member from his trousers, having waited long for the meal you were to his troubled desires.

Because truth be told, after all this time, you were only the fourth person ever to bring quite this joy into his life. And Geralt was planning to taste as much as possible from it. His rational brain told him that the idea you had put into his head was absurd, but maybe the faintest hint of hope came from his heart, that, perhaps, he might get you pregnant if he tried hard enough.

When his hips approached yours, your legs willingly parted further, though the feeling of his tip entering you still forced you to whine. Luckily, he was well-endowed, but with your body calling out that something wasn’t right, you weren’t quite ready to accept him yet. Most of the time, you were at least a bit drunker than that night. One time you two did it to get rid of an awful spell when one of his potions broke. There was always something to relax you - just this time, you were bareback and well aware.

Not heeding your ragged breaths, he forced himself inside, groaning over the tightness of your cunt as he spread your walls. You bit your lip in the weirdest feeling of pain and pleasure, legs flinching as if they were ready to kick him off. This feeling was new, and you weren’t all to sure you liked just how little he seemed to care as he began to pull out and push in right away. Hands pushing against his chest, you pleaded for him to give you a moment, his movements hurting you internally. “H-Hold on, give me a moment!”

But no matter how hard you gripped the shirt he was wearing, Geralt didn’t slow down, much less stopped. Forced to fold your arm, the witcher leaned down, bodies rubbing together, and stealing your breath as he kissed you again, tongue slipping in. It only got more unbearable as he caged you in between his arms on both sides, stinging eyes looking down at you, showing you your miserable reflection, an expression on your face that clearly wasn’t as willing as it sounded when you did a half-moan, half-sob.

However, no matter your attempts to stop him, he wasn’t one to stray away, too deep in it, and in you, to stop anymore. In an inefficient wiggle to get free, you heard the low rumble of a groan in his chest, followed by a couple pulsating pushes into you. Before you knew it, he shifted, pushing himself even deeper inside of you. Warm spurts of hot cum shot right into insides, coating your walls, adding some fake lubrications to the already irritated flesh.

You were relieved once he took a few breaths and proceeding to sit up again, thinking it was over. But the sudden grip on your thighs was something you did expect, and you struggled as he pushed your legs back, never having excited your pussy completely. Legs over his shoulders, he used them to continue to fuck you, holding on to them roughly with his fingers digging into your skin.

Geralt’s cock slit in and out easier of you now, cum bubbling on your entrance and spurting out with every hard thrust he did. Altering his technique a little, he started to grind his cock into you, his tip pushing up against your abdomen and low into your bowels, making you squeal whenever he managed to hit a new and sensitive spot.

“W-Wait, at least give me a break!” you demanded, but his answer was an inaudible mutter, followed by his grunts and the smacking sound of your hips. You were given no break as you couldn’t help a toe-curling orgasm as his member forced it’s way up to your cervix, kissing the entrance with force upon every push into you.

In the blink of an eye, Geralt spun you around, a moan escaping you as he gripped your asscheeks hard, pulling your entrance smack against the end of his shaft. With force and diligence, he wiggled his way forward into you, knowing that if he wanted to make any difference, he had to bring his semen as far as he could. Your body too recognized the breeding position, but you were to weak to resist under him, victim to his hips smacking and grinding into you, cock threatening to burst its way into your womb. And at least the hot strings of cum managed to get inside, despite if they’d impregnate you or not.

“Don’t say you didn’t want this,” he mumbled into your ear as he hovered over you, giving you little personal space or time before he resumed his grinding. Lips pressed down your shoulders, smothering them in pecks and kisses while you rode the waves of pleasure. “You know I’d do anything for you. You shouldn’t test me by saying you want a family.”

All he needed to do was pull you up by your arm to turn you onto your back again, satisfied eyes watching him through the shine of tears. “Next time, just be honest if you want to be bred so badly, no need to hide it behind the idea of a family that you know we can’t have.”

It was a low effort to slip into you again, your walls instantly clenching down hard on the overstimulation. “I-” he grunted, pulling your hips onto his, not minding the bruises his hands will leave on your skin. “-would do anything for you. Just say the word.”

And with his final orgasm, Geralt finally pulled out, having to watch all his effort slowly beginning to drip out and stain the rented bedsheets. Maybe, so he thought, plugging you up and hoping for a wonder would do well, your abdomen lovingly swollen under the multiple cumshots he had put into you. Reaching for an empty glass bottle for his potions, he pulled out the cork in it, opening up your hole with two fingers before slipping it inside under the weak protest of your mouth that ended in a sigh.

You were pulled snug against his body as he settled down next to you, taking a sip of wine he found at the bedside table, and making a mental note to give another tip to the innkeeper later just so you two wouldn’t be damned for all eternity. But with a sense of satisfaction did he watch the little swelling under your tummy, caressing it with his hand under your shallow gasps. Kissing your temple, he pulled a blanket over you, happy with just holding you in his arms that night while you lost conscience. You were unable to think for yourself anymore as you sighed in his hold, just relieved to have someone to lean on after going through such a carousel of emotions, unsure how you two would be able to proceed after experiencing this.

Unsure if he had other plans with you, once you woke up again even.

#Geralt #Geralt of Rivia #Geralt The Witcher #yandere geralt #yandere!geralt #The Witcher #yandere the witcher #yandere!the witcher #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW #Lemon #Anonymous

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talesfromthefade · 6 years

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DWC: "I'm so cold, I can't stop shivering"

Eshalineva “Neva” Lavellan post “In Your Heart Shall You Burn” for @dadrunkwriting

Neva stirs, broken wood boards and various rubble shifting around her as she pulls herself upright with a hiss and agonizing slowness. A broken rib, perhaps two if she had to guess, she thinks with a wince, hand darting to clutch her side as she forces herself to draw slower, more shallow breaths, and pushes herself to her feet. She threw herself into the first hole she could find as the snow of the remaining nearby mountain buried Haven and any sign of the Inquisition, indeed perhaps even the Chantry of ever having been there. It was dark, late evening when Corypheus’ forces were first spotted. A glance upwards to the hole in the ceiling high above proves the same, but it’s impossible to be certain of how long she’s been unconscious.

She appears to be in some kind of cave beneath the village. The occasional unlit torch, carved stone steps and planks suggest it must lead out somewhere, although it doesn’t look as if it has been used for some time. Still, just because the Inquisition gave the signal of reaching a safe distance away, she cannot wait for any scouts to find her if they can even get to her. Time to do her part.

She is grateful for her boots when she breaches the surface again, but struggles against the new and unpacked snow, sinking a little more with every step. Her armor, however warm and well-crafted it might be, can only do so much against the biting winds that whip about her and seep into her bones as they become wet from snow and sweat. The remains of a broken cart atop the drift would be a far more encouraging sign were it not for the fact that the avalanche and still heavy snowfall making it impossible to see any farther than her outstretched hand, any possible landmarks lost to an endless sea of white.

Neva hopes, rather than actually believes she is headed in the right direction, not having shared Chancellor Roderick’s privilege of making a summer pilgrimage to Haven, or having him as a guide as the rest of their forces did. By the Dread Wolf, things must be dire if she finds herself even half-wishing for that infuriating Shem’s company. A shiver finds the mage drawing her coat in closer, ignoring the pain it sends through her ribs as she draws her arms across her chest and hugs herself tightly, in a vain effort to keep out the cold.

Why didn’t she bother applying herself more to learning fire-related spells? Why had she given Dorian and Solas the last of her Lyrium potions while they had been fighting off the Red Templars, she thinks cursing with another shiver.

There are trees now, getting gradually more sparse as she continues to trudge onward, or at least, so far as she can see, which is admittedly very little. Still, she thinks that she must be well shot of Haven by now to be seeing so many of them. The shadows are beginning to play tricks on her, or perhaps her mind is as she’s slowly begun to submit to the freezing cold, exhaustion and her injuries. Neva swears for a moment she saw something else out there, darting in between the trees, watching her, following her. She’s quite sure she heard something howling shortly after she had emerged from the tunnels beneath the village, but that had sounded many miles away. The elf allows her remaining magic to collect in her palm, ready to strike. If it is a meal this creature wants, she won’t go down without at least attempting to put up a good fight.

Her teeth begin chattering as the trees and air begin to thin when she spots it again, and the shadow finally reveals itself to her. A wolf, though far larger than any she has ever seen before, with fur as black as midnight and two many sets of eyes.

“Fen’Harel,” Neva whispers, lilac eyes widening a little in shock.

Neva knows she’s been getting progressively weaker, weary, the temptation to simply lay down in the nearest bank and slip away becoming increasingly more tempting with each passing minute, but she must be truly close to death now to be seeing fairy stories come to life before her. The wolf simply waits, staring back at her, as she takes a tentative step towards him, then another, one hand reaching out for him even as she holds the other back, gathering her mana to strike should it prove necessary. But fingers meet fur without incident, indeed, the wolf doesn’t even blink.

“You’re warm,” she whispers softly, chapped and frozen lips sticking a little around her words and now uncontrollably chattering teeth. Neva isn’t sure she will ever be warm again. How much farther must she hike before she reaches a scout, a camp? How much farther does she have left within her? How much fight that the Dread Wolf would come to her. And what might he want? What sort of promises has he come to make her? And at what cost?

Fingers reluctantly pull away, and Neva forces herself back up to her feet once more. “Follow me if you like, but I’ll not make any bargains with the likes of you, Dread Wolf. I will find them, or I will die having given everything I have to the effort,” the elf swears, shaking her head. The wolf does follow, at times, even close enough to her side as to prevent her falling as she stumbles through the drifts until she spots an old fire, embers still faintly flickering, sheltered by a large nearby rock. The wolf is gone when she looks up again, and Neva wonders as she feels her knees buckle under her, body finally too exhausted to go on, whether he was ever there in the first place. A dream, she thinks as the darkness takes her. He must have been a dream. Whoever heard of Fen’Harel helping anyone but himself?

#dadrunkwriting #solavellan #solas #lavellan #dragon age: inquisition #da:i #eshalineva lavellan #neva lavellan #tales:neva #dragon age #superfluouskeys

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