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Dragon Age: Origins

Dragon Age: 2

The first thing she typed was not a description of a face. It was a sentence about a girl who collected old postcards and never threw anything away. From there, working through SweetDream's builder on sweetdream.ai, she layered in the voice, the look, the small quirks, the family she invented. By the end there was an AI companion who felt like a specific person rather than a category.

Observing the chat afterward was the convincing part. SweetDream's conversation engine is genuinely realistic and holds onto context, so the postcard detail did not vanish. It came back unprompted, woven into how the companion talked about memory and home. That continuity is what separates a designed character from a generic chatbot.

Alistair finds their presence rather comforting. This is someone who has experienced much of what life has to offer and from that comes knowledge. The sternness and fondness reminds him of Duncan. They keep him on his toes, train him in the art of shieldwork (and surprise him often with their unexpected stamina), and every so often, he’ll find his armour polished and his blade sharp as ever.

Morrigan scoffs at first. This is the person expected to defeat the Blight, alongside the fool that is Alistair? Someone well beyond their years who should’ve perished at the first hurdle had her mother not intervened. She is not afraid to voice such opinions. Things get worse down the line when she slowly realises she comes to enjoy their quiet company. They helped her with Flemeth, expressed an interest in her life in the Wilds, and the gilded mirror… oh, some part of her inner child weeps at the mirror they gifted her, as hardened and pragmatic as she is.

Zevran gets an absolute kick out of ribbing them about their age whenever he can get. He only does this when he realises the murderous glare they send everyone’s way is for appearances rather than true intent. He sees it all: the way the warden listens to Leliana’s stories, how they make sure Alistair is sleeping enough. How they philosophise with Sten. And how dangerously close they are to worming their way into Zevran’s heart. They didn't have to get him those Dalish gloves, but they did. They laughed at his attempts to flirt, a rare sound that has Zevran rather smug at being able to elicit.

Leliana will not question the Maker. If He has set this person on her path, she will gladly offer her aid. Her attempts at helping the warden (either at mealtimes or with carrying their items when they get tired) are met with begrudging thanks. They’re much like Sten in a way, but less sullen. And, she notes, very much in enjoyment of her singing. She'll sing to them when the nightmares get particularly bad.

Sten was expecting disappointment from the warden. A pointless death, slow reflexes and a weak arm unfit for carrying weaponry. They impress him with their battle prowess and defy expectations. A battle-partner with a penchant for collecting paintings and gifting them to him, one who can find a single lost sword during times of war… one worthy of being called kadan.

Wynne would find it rather refreshing at first. She can relate to them; someone close to her age and thrust into a grand adventure. She also sees past the grumpy facade immediately. She knows they are world-weary. They've taken on a huge responsibility and their life is not theirs anymore. They serve something greater. It's admirable.

Shale could not care less. If the warden is to die of old age, as most squishy humans do, Shale hopes it does so after the blight is defeated. It isn't so bad, however. It gifts Shale beautiful, glittering gems that improves their chances of eradicating the world of pigeons greatly. And the warden brought Shale to Cadash Thaig. Oh, all right then. They aren't so bad.

Oghren is far too caught up in his own drunken shame to truly judge, but his slurred, disparaging comments would have anyone else think otherwise. After the warden helps him with Felsi, he's glad to have a drinking companion. If they're both dead drunk, they won't remember the silent acknowledgement shared between warriors that have seen the worst of what life has to offer. They both have things they'd rather forget.

Dog is happy. The warden feeds him, pets him and pulls the occasion tick from his ears. Dog loves his warden. Dog would die for his warden. Dog hopes his warden does not die before he does.

Morrigan's soft side, short fic

DA2 Companions recieve baked goods

Non romanced but close companions react to the Inquisitor proposing

The Inquisitor is soft to Josephine but harsh to others, short fic

Companions + advisors receive baked goods

Companions react to a Somniari Inquisitor whose powers are amplified by the Anchor

Companions react to an awkward teen Inquisitor whose family joins Inquisition

Companions react to a teenage Inquisitor

Companions + Advisors react to a Dalish Inquisitor who can't speak the common tongue

Companions + Advisors react to Cassandra using her Seeker abilities

Companions and Advisors react to an Inquisitor who is a Reaver

Companions + Advisors react to a Demigod Inquisitor who is the Maker's child

Companions react to a Demigod Inquisitor and their small privileges

Companions + Advisors react to an Inquisitor who is an author of horror books

Companions react to an 8 year old Inquisitor

Companions react to a Motherly Inquisitor

Companions react to an Inquisitor expecting to die in the final battle and saying their goodbyes

Cassandra is a romantic. Proposals should be just so; declarations of the heart and all things that would make her swoon. But a proposal that is spontaneous, from someone she has no romantic feelings for? Even if it's for political strategy, by the Maker, take it elsewhere. She would be hard pressed to say yes, even for a very close friend. If it benefitted the Inquisitor by way of preventing future unwanted marriage proposals, perhaps she would agree. Though Cassandra would rather use her sword to do so.

Varric smirks. Then he doesn't, because hold on, you're being serious? He'd gesture to himself by way of asking 'do I look like the marrying type?' It's something he totally would've done for Hawke had they asked, but that was then and this is now. He would decline, but say there's probably someone else around here who would be willing.

Solas flat out refuses. Absolutely not. It wouldn't be fair, it just wouldn't. Unwanted proposals from nobles or the benefits of marriage are nothing next to the sundering of the Veil. It would be a privilege to have that remain the biggest issue at hand.

Dorian quirks a brow over his wine glass. A proposal, how novel. And with a real ring, too! The diamond isn't to be scoffed at either. It might even be worth the aneurysm his father would have upon receiving the news... not to mention he'd be doing his best friend a big favour. That's the part that matters most to him, though naturally he'd comment on the size and colour of the ring.

Sera laughs until tears stream down her face. She puts a hand on her forehead and playfully 'swoons', then her smile turns serious. She'd probably ask the Inquisitor if they've gone barmy. Truth be told, she'd rather be married to a girl she's sweet on, not Their Inquisitorialness Supreme. Though it would make for a prank of the ages... perhaps if it could be revoked at the last minute. Or rumour. Yes, rumour works nicely.

Blackwall has to check if his skull was cracked in his previous fight. Perhaps he's misheard them, or he's hallucinating the ring in front of him. Maker's balls. He can't in good conscience say yes, being who he is and knowing what he has done. He can't have that filth obscuring the Inquisitor's good name, not after what they've done for him. In the end, saying yes would do more harm than it would help.

“Why?” Cole asks. He has learnt much from observing the world: of love and hate, loyalty and envy, peace and murder. He has seen many kinds of love, and knows now he harbours some form of it for the Inquisitor. It is not, however, the kind of love that goes hand in hand with marriage. He would seek to understand the reason they had asked and why they asked him of all people.

The Iron Bull laughs over his tankard and drains it in a single swig. He's never been one to back down from a challenge. Sure. Why the fuck not? He loses nothing by saying yes. He is not wearing a shirt to the ceremony, though.

I guess this is mostly under the assumption that they are all close w/the Inquisitor, and comfortable with sudden physical contact. Enjoy!

Cassandra yelps, a high pitched squeak that has her clapping her hands to her mouth with a horrified expression, utterly mortified at the sound she just made. She blushes furiously, but she's not going to stoop to the Inquisitor's level of childishness and return the tickle attack. She will rise above. Forget this affront to her reputation. Or so she would have the Inquisitor think... for a good tactician never reveals their cards, and always has a plan of (tickle) attack.

Varric laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs until tears stream from his eyes and his stomach hurts. For him, it really dispells the notion of the Inquisitor being this large figure at the front of a huge military force. It's utterly ridiculous, and definitely not the intended effect the Inquisitor wanted on him.

Solas is taken off guard. He's seen and done it all, so it takes something truly special to leave him stunned. Something like a tickle attack. He stands there in a horrific, drawn out silence after the Inquisitor's attempt to tickle him, trying to process what just happened. Solas spends the next thirty seconds resembling a dumbstruck fish. He hastily closes his mouth and reaches a tense agreement with the Inquisitor to never speak of this again.

Oh, the indignity. Dorian is actually appalled at the noise he makes, which is something between a giggle and a squeak, and turns swiftly on the Inquisitor with (playful) murder in his eyes. He's not afraid to get his hands dirty, oh no, and so he rolls his sleeves up and prepares himself for an all out tickle war. Naturally, the Tevene in him begs him not to stoop so low. His pride, on the other hand, begs him to take revenge.

Sera screams bloody murder. Good luck hiding from her, for the Inquisitor chose the wrong person to start a tickle fight with. This girl is ruthless. She'll hide in the rafters and swoop down upon the Inquisitor when they least expect it. Throw in a few lobbed pies and that'll make the experience downright messy. Never mind playful, she's starting a war.

Blackwall is really ticklish, and ticklish everywhere. He can sense someone creeping about and probably assumes the worst. To be tickled instead of receiving a knife in the back is an odd kind of relief. To him, it helps to maintain a sense of normalcy. Yes, the world has gone mad, but people can still have tickle fights and laugh like children. Normalcy is the best kind of revenge.

Cole isn't ticklish. Still, he understands the concept. It's likely that he'd ask the Inquisitor why they felt the need to try and ambush him like that. He gets that they're trying to be playful and get him to laugh, but there are easier ways to do it!

The Iron Bull is not ticklish. He's not, so don't bother even trying. Except he's totally lying. Ask Krem and he'd say, "The boss is ticklish behind the ears. Don't ask how I know." He'd probably bark out a laugh, then full on lose it at the attempt to tickle him. Though he'd likely not retaliate unless he knew for sure the Inquisitor is comfortable with unexpected physical contact.

Vivienne isn't actually ticklish. Unlike Bull, when she says it, she means it. Any attempt to tickle her will be met with extreme retribution. Messing with the Iron Lady means snowballs flung at high speeds into the back of the Inquisitor's head when they least expect it. Vivienne is all smiles, icy and sharp, and when confronted all she has to say is, "What ever do you mean, my dear?"

He'd have to be really close to the Inquisitor for Cullen to be even slightly comfortable with that sudden movement. His knee-jerk reaction would be to panic. He'd also probably try to defend himself or physically remove himself from the situation. If he is comfortable, well, this man grew up with siblings. He's gonna tickle the Inquisitor right back, maybe even give into childish impulse and full body slam them into the floor... and apologise profusely after. And fix his hair.

Leliana sees it coming from a mile away. She'd turn swiftly and catch the Inquisitor's wrists in her hands, then offer them a knowing smile that simultaneously warms and terrifies. "I wish you luck for your next attempt." Is that a threat or a challenge? You decide.

Yes, I think it's definitely an interesting concept! I will say that I think it could've been executed better, and that Sebastian's rivalmance is probably the best executed one out of them. I personally go down the friendship routes myself.

That being said, how are you?

Admittedly, I did drop off for a while 🥲 that said, I did have my A-Level exams to revise for and UK folks know how important those are

Thanks for asking, that's really sweet!! To be honest, I've been struggling recently, life has decided to throw trauma at me every couple of months but you know, you gotta laugh or you'll cry hajskdks 😭 I did get back into DA as a distraction but have been enjoying writing these reactions

Varric is surprised at first, though he's quick to not to let it show. Hawke actually baked him something? Hawke who slayed an ogre, who kills people for a living, bakes? Any normal person would probably fall in love. "If I ever write a book about you, I'm definitely including this."

"Oh. Thank you, Hawke." Aveline is a little awkward. She has work to do, reports to file and patrols to oversee. She doesn't have time to stop and gawk at the plate of... baked goods? Ah. It won't do to just leave them there, uneaten. Perhaps she can snack while she writes those reports.

Anders isn't sure what he's done to deserve the biscuits in front of him, but he won't say no to them either. It's hard to find joy these days, but today he has found it in a plate of baked goods. Anders allows himself to smile. "Hawke, I really, really appreciate this." To make his point, he tucks right in.

Bethany accepts the plate of pasties with a small smile. Carver's favourite. For a moment, her joy is mingled with stabbing grief, a feeling she's all too familiar with now. But pasties are pasties, and they smell really, really good. Bethany gives her sibling a quick hug and wraps one up in a cloth for their mother. "Hawke... thank you." One day she'll be able to eat these without being reminded of the day her home fell apart.

Carver raises a brow at the pasties. They're just like the ones their father used to make. A peace offering, perhaps? It'll take a lot more than pasties to soothe his strained relationship with Hawke... but he appreciates them nonetheless. Carver takes the plate and says a simple, "Thank you," but a thousand more words are said in the look he gives. You remembered how to make our father's pasties. You even remembered how I like the filling. You care. I'm sorry. Thank you.

"Oh, Hawke, you shouldn't have!" Merrill is besides herself with happiness. She grins from ear to ear as she accepts the plate of baked bread rolls. She takes a moment to admire all the little details, like the leaf patterns cut into the dough, before tucking in. After all, it's not everyday she's presented with baked goods. Now all Merrill needs is a few table mats, some new plates and it'll be perfect.

"Now, isn't that just adorable!" Isabela is utterly endeared by the plate of cinnamon rolls in front of her. It's funny - she wouldn't think someone like Hawke, who's probably killed more people than those in Kirkwall combined, would take the time to bake something for her. She just needs a mug of ale and her evening will be complete.

Sebastian takes the Starkhaven fish pie and holds it up to the light. It's actually real. And made just the way he likes it! He offers a piece to Hawke and insists they eat with him. They should get to try their own handiwork, after all. "Maker, Hawke, you'll have to teach me how to make this as well as you." It tastes like home, and Sebastian retires for the night with thoughts of comfort and pie.