#Cherry Lavellan

[star--nymph]

Makes my Lavellan an insatiable whore for Cullen because he's fucked up like what you guys gonna do, put her in hot sex jail so she can have hot sex with her hot fucked up little ex-templar?

[beast-of-mosss]

I love giving my characters trauma related to watar

[skiitter]

Without the added context of an Inquisition playthrough, Lavellan looks borderline delusional saying that she loves Solas. In addition to the whole he lies, manipulates, and tricks Rook at every opportunity, there is also literally NO mention of this woman anywhere in his memories, regrets, fucking home base, nothing. Imagine how unhinged this comes off, especially when people like Harding also knew Solas during the inquisition and she fully hates his ass. And this is, of course, compounded upon significantly by the fuck ass way the Solavellan reunion goes.

It’s been eight (8) years and Solas is barely responsive to Lavellan. And the cherry on the shit cake is that even there, AT THE END OF EVERYTHING, she fails to convince him. THAT!!!!! THATS THE WHOLE POINT OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP AND WHY HE LEFT HER BEHIND!! SHE WAS THE ONLY ONE CAPABLE OF CHANGING HIS MIND!!!!

I am so 😡😡😡😡😡😡😡

[strawberry-halla]

guys can we pretty please with a cherry on top stop disregarding solas’s relationship to mythal because you don’t like your man having a strong emotional entanglement with another being?

their love was something intangible for mortals to understand. i love how difficult it is to truly grasp solas and mythal’s relationship.

they were bad and good for each other. the one-sided devotion from solas is heartbreaking. the brilliance of mythal is indescribable. writing off this relationship as platonic is incorrect.

it was romantic love. romantic means many things. the romantic part is the connection, the unbreakable bond. they were doomed from the start. because solas was content with himself whereas mythal was not. two polar opposite beings only connecting when one gives up their purpose to satisfy the other. who else would give up themselves if not for love?

they loved each other for different reasons. solas loved mythal for just being herself, spirit and body. mythal loved solas for his wisdom and what it could do when elevated to a higher purpose. the very core of their love for one another is wrong and abusive. one using the other for her own gain, the other using one to justify his sins.

solas was so in love that he forgave her for everything she ever did. even when mythal hurt him. hurt elvhenan. he still put her up on a pedestal because he loved her so much.

mythal’s love only went surface-deep. the power she had rivaled few and she enjoyed flexing it to the evanuris when they stepped out of line. she was an unforgiving mother and benevolent to those who worshipped her vanity. which includes solas.

mythal never even apologizes for all she did to solas. she never regrets the sundering of the titans. in the end all she wanted was revenge on the evanuris for killing her. and she got it. so what now than to release the one who promised to help her get revenge? the only mercy mythal ever bestowed on solas. letting him go.

so yeah solythal is real and it’s messy. it’s nothing like solavellan. both can exist and not contradict one another. in fact, i think solythal bolsters solavellan’s relationship even more.

an ancient being learning mortal love despite knowing only the ethereal love he shared with mythal. solas expected lavellan to use him and instead she understands him. protects him. makes sure solas is never hurt by those who see him as a danger even if lavellan ended up inconvenienced or hurt.

mythal would have never inconvenienced herself to help solas. she places herself over anyone else. solas never came first. lavellan always put solas first.

[notinkirkwall]

Thinking about a worldstate where the Hero of Fereldan made the ultimate sacrifice, Hawke was left in the fade, and Inquisitor Lavellan fucked off past the veil

I don't know if it would be funnier to decimate the Veilguard crew as a cherry on top or leave Rook to be the one who has to pick up all the pieces now. Really hammer in that "your destiny was to die, but you remain regardless. What now?" existentialism from Davrin's storyline

[bunabi]

I know there's so many much bigger questions to be answered in DAVG but I'm actually half terrified about the new game because there's a chance I'll find out the fate of a PC and/or their LI and if it's bad news, I don't know . . . Like at this stage, I'd rather they not mention them at all so I can pretend they're safe. Is this remotely logical? No, but I'm so nervous.

I'm having the opposite problem lol I am excited for my government mandated Solavellan closure content to get here so everyone can move on and focus on what really matters: Solas x Zathrian yaoi

since DA is choice-driven and everyone's saves are different, think of it like this: you can do whatever you want with your worldstates

whatever conclusion you want for your characters you can have them, they just won't be affirmed by the canon

I've spent the past ten years making fanwork & building characters with @strawberrynoir, taking our Lavellans on adventures, brainstorming life after Kirkwall for Anders & her Hawke, and so many things

at this point the games themselves are just the cherry on top of a much bigger experience for me

basically: don't worry too much 😅 whatever happens happens

[secret-smut-sideblog]

The Dove

Lavellan x Blackwall

18+ fantasy racism, death, explicit violence, implied abuse, fear, tenderness, injury, hurt/comfort, fingering (f!), oral (f!), p-in-v, unprotected sex

Using the full force of her foresight and the strife within decisions made, Celene's Grand Ball proves to be bloodstained and venomous. Leaving Vella exhausted to old and new injuries, tenderly caught by his soft love...

Masterlist, Prev Chapter

-

"And now, presenting..."

Blackwall leaned low into her ear.

"If you are... underdressed under that cloak, please warn me now."

Vella slid him a teasing salacious smile.

"Grand Duke Gaspard De Chalons, and accompanying him..."

"Maker, Vella..." He sighed, giving her a knowing glare.

"Lady Inquisitor Lavellan!"

"That's my cue, take my cloak, will you?" She purred, pulling her arms behind her back. Dropping her shoulders to let the heavy fabric fall.

As she stepped forward, Blackwall's breath choked, followed by a rattled sigh. The sweetest sound to her entrance. Striding forward with dark cherry red silk trailing her silent step. Gasps of shock risen on balconies.

The dress had, naturally, been Leilana's idea.

The agreed upon silhouette of Orlesian dress was a structured bell with layered fabric and steel boned corset.

The garment that Josephine had brought to her, special made by a seamstress who must've had a terrible amount of amusement fulfilling, was all draped fabric.

Falling from her hips slick as oil, the plunging back tight to her waist and draped on the sides by bishop sleeves. Only girded by featherbone stays with rich indigo beading, matching the traditional Dalish boots that Blackwall had sewn her. The silhouette was all her, only partially hidden by the heavy drape of a shoulder cape, the red and blue of her entourages color coordinated uniform. The cape hung over her left shoulder, leaving her marked hand to only tantalizing glances.

"Nothing makes one more desirable company quite like tasteful scandal." Vivienne appraised the dress, running a finger over the high neck.

"Yes, a beautiful woman who steals the show and clearly holds thinly veiled contempt for the whole affair? They'll be staring like awestruck children." Dorian's eyes glittered with delight.

It certainly appeared to be working.

Vella strode with cold grace. This ball, this whole disgustingly ornate mansion, was beneath her, and she made little effort to hide it. Moving with the momentum of her hips. Letting uninterest carry on her face under her black blindfold.

By the time she reached the stairs, a quiet murmur surrounded like insect song.

Unbothered, she stared up at Empress Celene. Giving a graceful bow instead of the glare her heart called for.

Gaspard's shit eating grin was barely hidden under his ornate mask. Clearly pleased with the devious spectacle of it all.

After all the indulgent pleasantries were exchanged, Celene stared down her nose at her.

"You've certainly come dressed outside of our custom. Is this Dalish fashion?"

Vella laughed lightly behind her left hand, the gash of green light pulsed deep between bone. All eyes on her.

"Certainly not! I'd be wearing much less your Highness."

"Is that so? I'd be a shame if you couldn't see the decor beyond that blindfold."

"Oh, I can see everything I intend to."

The silver glow of her eyes shielded behind the molded black mask. Tied behind the fall of her golden hair with long silk.

The court was quiet in rapture within their exchange.

The whole of them laid out to her. All she needed to know unfurled behind the curtain of her mind. Bordering on overwhelm that she would need to muffle soon. The rolled elfroot cigarettes in their gilded tin assured in the taut garter on her thigh.

The secrets of all of these hateful people displayed to her at rapid speed. Especially Celene. Simmering rage seared under her easy smile.

I know what you did.

"With your lineage, you must certainly hold opinions on Halamshiral."

How many had to burn to soothe your ego?

"Oh, it's all quite beautiful. I'm sure much thought went into the conversion of the scenery. Sculptures and hedgemazes don't sprout up as easily as the humble orchid tends to."

It was a volley of elegant strikes. Words tossed with the air of nonchalance but beheld with bated breath by their audience.

Vella may be Dalish, but she was no stranger to appeasing the sensibilities of people she hated with the whole of her chest. Years held in the gilded prison of the Chantry taught her very quick that a sweet tongue kept you some semblance of safety.

"I wouldn't imagine keeping your company from our guests any longer, Lady Inquisitor. We look forward to watching you dance."

Vella gave another gracious bow and a sweet smile to her enemy. Striding up the stairs with eyes set only on Leilana as she approached.

"Well played." She whispered as a small smile pulled her cheek. "A word, when you have a moment."

Vella nodded, her own smile already fallen. "I'm going to need a cigarette after that."

"You and me both." Leilana sighed. Stepping back into shadow.

"Please find a balcony first." Josephine urged in a quiet rush. "There's only so much rule breaking that will be taken as alluring here."

Vella cupped her cheek with a gentle hand. "You worry too much. I'm only a savage wandering the most proper of society."

The use of the hateful word was deliberate. Many eyes held on her. Their power to cut her down taken from their mouths.

"Such an awful word!" A younger woman standing at Josephine's side gasped. "I couldn't imagine anyone calling you that!"

"Then you're better mannered than most, but I would expect no less from a lady Montilyet." Her eyes burned with near constant light behind the dark shield. The torrent of Dirthamen unveiled things untold to her as cacophony she focused to discern.

"This must be her!" Yvette giggled brightly behind her hand, blush pink in her cheeks.

"Your reputation certainly proceeds you." Josephine sighed, giving her sister a soft glare. "She's been insatiable for details on... well, you."

"Josephine writes, but she never tells me anything." The sweet yearn in her voice pulled a soft smile from Vella.

She had always wanted a sister. Though she knew that experience varied wildly between siblings, the accusatory stare of endearment from Josephine made her heart twinge with things she could never know.

"What would you like to know?" She offered with a gentle laugh.

"Please don't encourage h-"

"Is it true that Dalish women dance naked under the full moon?"

"Yvette!" Josephine hissed.

"Well, I certainly do." Vella laughed.

This seemed to delight the sweet girl and got her a stern clearing of the throat from behind her. Practically feeling the heat rising up Blackwall's neck.

"My lady, would you like accompanying for some air?" He led in the monotone gruff of his voice.

The flat delivery of his words irked most but she found it endlessly endearing. Especially when her teasing or tenderness softened the cadence.

"Oh, do I need escorting?" She teased, eyeing him beyond the black mesh shrouding her eyes, only seeing the shadow of things. The dark of it staving off the near constant threat of migraine from her untethered foresight.

"We both know that you do." He tried for aggravated, but affection was thick underneath.

"Oh, and who is this?" Yvette batted her lashes at him.

"Go while you still can." Josephine urged.

"I'll find you later, Josie." Vella laughed, led forward by the small of her back through the halls to a balcony.

"You seem to have caught many young ladies' eyes." Vella teased, lifting the fall of her dress to thigh to take a cigarette from the tin.

"Vella, please..." He hissed, sliding behind her to shield the full length of her leg from view.

"Oh, let me have my fun." She shushed, bringing the cigarette between her fingers. "It's going to be all downhill from here. Damn, I've forgotten matches. Where is Dorian when you need him?"

Blackwall pulled a matchbook from his breast pocket.

"Oh, you're so thoughtful." She smiled, leaning into the flame he struck. Speaking through a contented sigh of smoke. "My savior."

"How do you feel?" He leaned down to her.

"Held together with twine and a wish." She sighed, feeling the incomprehensible barrage of information battering her mind dulling. Taking another grateful pull of burning relief.

"But I'm well stocked for tonight, don't worry." She patted her thigh. "Though, if actually do start undressing, I give you permission to tackle me."

"Like at Haven..." He sighed.

The fever of madness had always been terrible. Gods, that whole night weighed so heavy in memory. But it could only be more painful for him.

"We've never really talked about that night, have we?" She whispered, taking in his sweet eyes so creased with worry.

"No, and we're certainly not going to here." The monotone growl filled his voice again, glancing at several suspiciously still backs that had gathered.

"If one more person calls me rabbit... I suppose I should mingle." She sighed, taking a deep pull of smoke. Offering him the cigarette which he waved away, a silly ritual at this point. Another way they played. How dearly she loved playing with him.

She pinched out the cigarette and leaned in to whisper conspiratory to him.

"Don't tell anyone, but you're my favorite."

She could feel his smile as she pulled away.

"I'm going to need a dance from you, my lady!" He called as she strode back inside.

"I'll try to squeeze you in!" She chirped, biting her lip in a smile.

With her heart dizzy with love, she steeled herself to begin her rounds.

-

The loop of Vella's stride made him exhausted by proxy. With each circle, she passed his post and leaned in to leave a whisper in Elvhen. Often making him stifle a laugh.

"I hope they all choke."

"This place sucks shit."

"That's it, I'm burning it down."

"With us inside it."

He nearly laughed out loud at that last one. Having to stifle it into a cough, nodding in feigned interest at the man prattling on in front of him.

Her echoed resentment of their situation was the highlight of his night so far, but he couldn't help the prickling concern.

She had slept hard the previous night. He wanted nothing less than her to rest, but the longer she slept, the stronger her condition held. He could only imagine the sheer noise that was filling her mind.

She could only hold like this for so long before it started to burn. Until it held her down in that terrible seize. Dropping her to the floor to pull rigid as her body shut down, knocking her unconscious to protect her mind from boiling.

It made him furious how the others seemed content to let her do this. The only steadfast objectors to using her as prophet being Cole and himself.

He wasn't naive. He understood the stakes at hand. They were at war, and even a small misstep could be catastrophic. But the way the others saw her suffering as regrettable but acceptable collateral...

He knew her foresight was an invaluable asset, but Maker, how could he not worry? How could he not wish it would stop whispering madness into her, no matter the advantage?

She approached him again just as a man strode forward. Pointing at him as if he knew him. Panic rose higher and higher in his chest as this noble danced around his identity with drunken ignorance. All while she stood studying the exchange with unreadable eyes.

The other concern, the one he was ashamed to acknowledge: Would it whisper to her the truth of him?

Of course she knew he was keeping something from her. She was too clever, too attuned with other people, to not see it. To not feel it writhing under his skin.

Maker, he nearly buckled under the weight when she confessed her own crime. Kneeled cradling the flowers of her dead family, killed by men like him, then taken in turn by her. Shame so hot in his belly he almost vomited when he had a moment alone.

He had to believe he had atoned in some small way. Maker, please let him have. Please let her not be broken by him.

The man finally wandered away, and he steeled himself to dance around her question. He couldn't stomach lying to her anymore. She shouldn't love a man who lies to her.

"Someone from your past?" The gentle prod of her voice made his throat clench. So sweetly asking him to open to her. To unfold into the warm of her.

I wish I wasn't the one you love.

"Drunks think all men with beards look the same." He grunted. A statement he felt true, at least.

"Hey, I didn't know you had a medal of valor!" Her eyes brightened, so delighted to know more about him. "What is that for again?"

She leaned in that adorable way, like she was telling secrets. "I'm Dalish, fill me in."

Darling, please don't trust me. Not like this.

"Valor, mostly."

She laughed, the sound so bright.

Why did you choose me. Anyone but me.

"Fair enough."

Her demeanor fell back to solemn. Hitching her head to follow.

He nearly sighed in relief.

-

The silent sprint of her feet was the rush of wind through trees. Torn dress whipping behind her. The clash of her party at her back.

Run, girl. You're out of time.

Venatori tried to rush her, but she had already run through them. Dodging through their fingers seconds before they reached. Arrows and blades seeking to strike before she entered the fray.

The toll of bells striking. She could see the precious seconds ahead of their arrival. The pounding of her blood-soaked step a trail led in a circle of time.

Circled. All spiraled.

No, focus. You're here.

She squeezed her eyes. Leaping onto the banister invisible, she sprinted into the ballroom. Running along marble, pulling her bow from her shoulder. The sea of people gathered wouldn't see her until she struck. Ripping the arrow tied from her thigh.

Florianne stepped forward, a wicked smile on her face. Blade poised on Celene's back.

Vella notched her arrow as she slid to a knee. Drawing back in the same breath. Locked in the tunnel of her prey.

But her hand paused. Time she didn't have. Arrow poised waiting.

She saw it.

The future that Briala would bring puppeteering the hand of Gaspard. The Elven Queen in Shadow. It would bring revolution and civil war, further shattering Orlais.

But her people would be free. Free.

But only if Celene fell.

Her fingers held steady on the string.

Breath a hot wave over her lips.

You're out of time. Decide.

She clenched her jaw to ache. Leveling her sight on Florianne.

She pursed her lips and whistled death. An ancient promise of a spirit.

All heads turned up. The Elven servants gasped and covered their ears.

Florianne's gaze wavered as she froze, just as Celene began to feel the threat. Her eyes wide as the blade met her back.

Florianne's head turned.

She released her fingers.

The arrow snapped into the thin bone at her temple. Florianne's eyes rolled up into her skull as her body dropped. Several shrieks rose.

Vella's body appeared under her again. Kneeled in a torn dress and blood smeared.

Here it comes. Relax.

She let her arms fall, sighing out the tension in her body as the guards arrow ripped through her shoulder. Her drawing arm fell useless at her side.

"Good shot!" She laughed, finding the shaken guards eyes.

The pain unfurled then. Her shoulder screamed, the nerve that ran through a lightning bolt. With breath ragged, clutching the wound, she stood. Left arm tremoring uncontrolled at her side. Arrow still lodged firm under the blade of bone.

Good, it would keep her blood.

The guards swarmed around Celene, discovering the knife that had scattered out of Florianne's hand.

Vella rushed forward one last time. Dagger poised along the back of her forearm.

She drove the blade under Florianne's jaw. Straight into the base of her brain. Her body went limp and gave a few short convulsions. More shrieks rang through the air.

Good girl. It's just the muscles. They're gone.

But they shake like me.

It's mercy. You've severed their tie. They'll get to the Beyond kinder now.

Vella released the hilt. Falling to a kneel, letting her arm fall loose at her side with its twin. Gasping hard into the air with head thrown. Blood pooled up the tear of her dress.

The guards backed away from her. Celene's shaken hand gripped her good shoulder.

Vella slipped the locket into her palm as she pulled the blindfold. Celene's empty hand flew to her mouth.

As the last of the silver fell from her sight, she folded Celene's fingers over the locket.

"Find her."

-

"Twas a clean strike."

Vella smiled, her eyes meeting amber.

"The blade or arrow, Morrigan?"

"I hadn't gave my name, Inquisitor." She leaned against the balcony. "But you realize that."

Vella offered her a cigarette, which she took. Placing the tin inside her sling again. Letting Morrigan spark her fingers in flame to light both of them.

"You're left-handed. A sign of a witch." Morrigan appraised her, cupping her elbow under her breast.

"Dual-handed. Not sure what superstition that's associated with, though."

"Spirit? Siren? Shapeshifter?" Morrigan offered with a sly smile.

"How many of your clan knew about burning elfroot?" Morrigan appraised the rolled paper between her fingers.

"Not many. Our hahren had me chew bark as well."

"Smart. And this gift you have, I presume it has a price? The Pantheon does not give with two hands."

Vella laughed. She already adored this woman. They both spoke as they had known each other for a long time. Perhaps they had.

"Do you even have to ask? Though, I'd rather take a two edged gift from the gods than whatever the chantry worships."

Morrigan slowly spread a smile.

"Oh, I think you and I are to get along beautifully."

"Then you're joining us?"

"For the time being."

"Naturally. I'd never try to pin you down."

"You are sworn to another, yes?"

"I am."

"A pity." Morrigan sighed. Letting her eyes wander Vella's svelte frame. "I will find your apothecary in Skyhold. That shoulder 'tis too valuable to sqaunder. I will be eager to sate my curiosity of your... condition, upon your return. And, do try to have fun tonight. You've earned it."

"You know, I realize I never caught your name." Morrigan paused at the door.

Vella spoke in Elvhen.

"Nothing is more vulnerable than the named."

Morrigan laughed.

"Of course."

She appraised Blackwall as they crossed path. He stared hard at her in distrust, slowing his gait.

"That poor guard is still shaking. He's insistent on apologizing."

"He shouldn't." She smiled as he leaned down onto his forearms on the banister. Finally close again. "It was a clean shot. We could use another marksman."

He chuckled low.

"Celene's terrified of you now. Don't see her giving much fight to recruiting a guard."

Vella leaned her hip against the banister. Closing her eyes for a moment. A full night's sleep, wretched thing that it was, could only go so far.

"Care to share your thoughts?" Blackwall led.

Vella shook her head. Cupping gently under her elbow.

"It went well. I should be celebrating."

"With these snobs?"

Vella snorted a laugh.

"We owe everything to you, my lady. You deserve to take a moment of respite."

"I'm just..." Vella sighed. Her decision heavy on her mind. How she hated this outcome. That anger she couldn't stifle anymore flared in her chest. How she wished to burn this place to cinder. "No... it's nothing. Nevermind."

Blackwall paused. His eyes steady on her.

"What?" She whispered, bristled up her back. Trying to not feel the resentment that sat in her belly.

"You did the right thing." His hand cupped over hers. "Gaspard is a fucking bastard. And Briala will be a good influence."

Tears pooled on her waterline. She blinked them away.

Traitor.

"Would you still like that dance?" He pulled close, cupping the small of her back. Steel blue eyes staring down so soft with concern.

"I'll make a poor partner." She mumbled. Her arm hung limp in its sling agreed.

"Impossible. You're the belle of the ball. Blood soaked and beautiful."

She knew he was trying to cheer her. She wanted to be cheered. But all she could do was lay her head on his shoulder.

He wrapped around her, kissing her temple. Swaying them in a slow circle. A dance all their own.

-

"Ah!"

Vella dropped her folded elbow. The sharp pain a clear signal to stop.

She dropped her good arm. Hanging her head.

Not even able to undress herself.

An old shame filled her chest.

The helpless get eaten. Stand up, girl. You are more use to me as meat than weight. And don't you dare cry.

Could she pull her bow again? Oh Gods...

A badger will chew through a leg in a trap. If it doesn't bleed out, it will be hobbled in the cold. Better to go head first.

The cold of shock unfolded along her spine. She tried to flex her fingers.

"We might need to cut you out of that dress." Blackwall's warm voice came to her back. Kissing a tender greeting on the curve of her neck.

"Vella...?"

"I can't feel my arm."

"The healer said that would fade. You'll get mobility back soon." He wrapped his hand around her front. Pressing assurance against the crest of her ribs.

"I can't..."

He circled around her. Concern tight in his eyes.

"Vella. Please, speak to me."

Something bad was coming. She didn't know it, then she did. Closing her eyes tight to the silver. Her senses too exhausted to make it take shape. But it was coming. Soon.

"Please, can we get a drink? I want to have a quiet night."

I want to pretend. Pretend this isn't the last of something.

He smiled, kissing her forehead.

"I'm sure Cabot has some good shit stored somewhere. I'll break cabinets if need be."

She gave a small smile and he tilted her chin up with his fingers. His eyes creased in adoration.

"There she is."

Vella tried to lockpick the door of Herald's Rest with one hand, but Blackwall simply shoved it with his shoulder. The latch gave with a whimper of a click.

"You're more battering ram than man." She smiled. Looking him up and down with trailing eyes.

"The chivalrous thing to do is smash down doors." He growled.

And just like that, they were playing again.

She sauntered inside, giving him a beckoning stare over her shoulder.

"Oh, this is what you've always wanted." She hopped up onto the counter, crossing a leg over her knee. "Me all vulnerable, needing a big strong man to help."

"I am going to enjoy this." He agreed. Circling around the bar to rummage a high shelf. Coming around to sit on the stool in front of her.

"You mind spreading your legs, darling?"

She leaned back on her palm, smiling wide as she unfolded her legs. He set the bottle down between the spread of her thighs as if this was standard.

"Oh, if I was a barmaid..." She laughed.

He full belly laughed, nearly spitting out his drink.

"The men would work here for free."

"The chantry would come with torches and rope." She agreed, her own laugh picking up contagious to his.

It wasn't that funny, not really, but they kept going. The back and forth of their joined laughter reignited the other until they were both doubled over. The song of her high keening melded to his deep bark. Collapsed into each other.

"Ow! Ow!" She laughed breathless. "My shoulder! Mercy!" Weakly kicking his side.

Blackwall wiped his eyes, still breathless in his own laughter. "No kicking!"

"I'm down an arm!" She kicked with both feet.

"Alright, that's it!" He climbed up on the bar and nipped at her throat, tickling her with his beard.

"No!" She shrieked, pushing his bicep. "I'm injured! I can't fight back, you asshole!"

He fell into his laugh again. Bracing on his forearm.

"Maker, my side!" He gripped at his ribs.

"Hah! Take that!"

His laugh fell away again, smiling down at her. Cupping her face so tenderly in his rough palm. Then his brow knitted together, letting out a deep sigh.

"Hmm, the brooding look is doing something for me." She teased.

"Is it?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah. I like men sad and wet."

He rolled his eyes but didn't fully return to her playful. His eyes still heavy with something.

"Hey..." She hushed, pushing back up onto her palm. "What's wrong?"

He lifted her in assistance behind her ribs. Leaving his hand there as she sat up close to him.

"Moments like these... when things feel so simple. When it all seems so clear..."

She waited, seeing something building in his pause.

"Like I could do anything with you by my side. Be anywhere. Be someone bigger than myself. It's hard to imagine anywhere without you."

Her heart pounded against its tender cage.

He could feel it too.

"Could you take me to your bed?" She hushed. Her unspoken question clear to both of them.

He cut away the dress with a soft pull of a blade along her spine. Peeling it down her shoulder as gentle as tending a torn petal. Kissing above her bandage in a line.

"My dove with a broken wing." He sighed.

Her eyes flooded with tears. Being treated so soft too much. Too vulnerable. An effort of will to not pull away from it. To allow herself be carried in his palm and not try to bite.

He gently folded her arm back in its sling. Leading her back onto the pelt with the strength of his hands cupped behind her.

"I love you. You're more than I could ever hope for. So much more than I deserve."

He marveled mournfully at her bare fallen under him. Spreading his hand along her ribs reverently.

"There's no future for us with me as a Warden." His palm moved to lay flat above her belly.

She nearly laughed. Then remembered he didn't know.

There's no future with me, either.

"If you're worried about getting me pregnant, I'm going to ask for something from Morrigan in the morning."

"Hmph, that woman... Not sure about her." He grumbled.

Vella smiled and pulled at his tunic, lifting it over his shoulders.

"I like her. She's trouble."

"Of course you do." He sighed, kissing above the curve of her breast. "You're trouble all the way down."

"All the way down?" She wiggled her hips, giving him a grin.

"Cheeky." He scolded. Trailing his fingers down the curve of her hip bone, over the seam of her thigh.

"Oh, if you want cheeky I can turn over." She made to flip onto her belly.

He pushed his fingers into her clit. Rocking slow, mind-numbing waves into her.

"You're staying right here."

"Oh..." She breathed, falling back again. Her eyes glazed as desire pooled warm in her pelvis. Rocking her hips slow into his fingers.

"There we go..." He smiled, kissing around her breast. Trailing over her heart, kissing it with deliberate tender pulses, then returning to her pebbled peak. Pulling the sensitive bundle into the curve of his tongue as his fingers pushed slow into her. Curving up into the place that made her legs shake.

Her mind emptied of all but pleasure. The languidly pulled silk of it wound around his fingers.

"Oh, my love." She sighed in Elvhen, staring down at him with the tender of her heart laid open. Carding her fingers through his dark hair. "My gentle bear."

He looked up at her under his brow. His eyes grew glassy as he trailed kisses down her belly. His gaze steady on her through the water.

"Why are you crying?" She whispered, reaching for his hand.

He wove his fingers into hers as he reached her center. Kissing the golden curls above her sex. His fingers still stroking so perfect into her.

He only shook his head, rubbing her palm with his thumb. Too overcome to speak.

"Then speak to me here." She smiled. Resting their joined hands on her belly.

His eyes closed softly as a crease formed in his brow. Nuzzling into her clit with his nose. Spreading his tongue flat to lap slow waves into her. Savoring each pull like it was the last supp of soup licked from a bowl.

She shuddered with each stroke as his fingers joined with his mouth. The rhythm set to unravel her at her very core. Calling out soft cries as her body slow writhed. The tender touch building to unfold a flood from her pelvis.

"Oh, Gods." She moaned. Starting to feel that delirious pleasure only he could pull out of her.

He moaned into her, the deep of his voice sending tingles of pleasure up her back.

"You're giving me chills." She smiled, closing her eyes to fully fall back. Falling into only her body and the feeling of him washed over her. Not certain he could understand her anymore, but not finding it impossible.

She let it be only her body and his. The devotion of his fingers and mouth. Everything else fallen away. A being of only pleasure.

Her orgasm pulled from so deep in her she wasn't sure where it could end. Letting out a whine she had never made before as her legs curled up. Even the clenches were slow, dragging out until she was panting up into the night air. Barely lucid through the endlessly unfolding torrent.

"You still with me?" He murmured as he rose up her. Undoing his trousers and stroking his cock with the hand that had been soaked with her pleasure, kissing the side of her neck.

"Mm-hmm." She hummed, words still beyond her. Gasping slow labored breath. Holding his wide back as anchor.

He pressed a hand to the back of her knee, angling her open with a gentle push.

"I adore you, thank you, thank you endlessly for this gift." He sighed, lining up below her. Cupping the curve of her face in his hand as he pressed his forehead to hers.

He pushed in slowly. His eyes strained up into lids, groaning low into her mouth.

She let out her own soft cry. The stretch of him sent her pelvis tremoring. Stroking up into that same undoing his fingers found, but beyond that. Pressing into the pleasure deep inside her walls. Filling her to the brim.

"Oh, fuck." She cooed, staring up into his eyes. Her lips fallen open almost in pleading. "Please, slow again."

He nodded, pulling his hips back to rock into her. Kissing her softly in little pulses.

It was unbelievable. Her body sang with pleasure. Babbling out soft cries in Elvhen with each thrust. Pleading in the tongue she was born with. Her own half formed words a new song that she didn't know the words to, but came from deep within the seat of her soul.

She came around him in another keening cry. Grasping his strong shoulder, astonished how fast it had happened. Another building on the collapsed ruins of her as it still crumbled. Tears of ecstasy dripped down her temples. Staring up at him as he unmolded her entirely.

He kissed her cheeks and her forehead, returning his to press against it. Huffing out breath as he picked up speed. His arms braced around her. His face tightened as he started to break.

"Yes, yes." She urged in a fast whisper, cupping his face in her hand. "Cum inside me, please."

She locked her legs behind his back.

"Don't you dare pull out. Fill me until I'm leaking you for days. Please, bear."

He buckled fully into her as his body tensed up into a bow. Gasping out at her words. His eyes lost in his skull.

He pressed his face into her neck, muffling his deep cry of release there. His hips stuttered as he flooded her, grasping with bruising fingers into the other side of her neck. Rushing inside her again and again as his end struck through him. Weeping into the nape of her neck.

-

Vella woke warm and heavy with rest. Swaddled in what must have been every blanket. Smiling as sleep fell from her as gentle as rain dripped from leaves. Blinking into the soft light.

Then it all fell away in an instant.

Bolting upright, she felt it. Pulling a hand tight to her chest as her eyes lit silver.

The bad thing was here, as certain as the pound of her heart.

This wasn't foresight, this was a premonition.

She glanced down and was confirmed by the carved wooden dove that sat on the pillow. The indent of his head still pressed.

She snatched his tunic and fast draped it around her, struggling with her sling as she rushed downstairs.

A scout met her at the barn door, quickly averting his eyes to her undress.

She pulled him inside, uninterested in propriety.

"Where is he?"

~

Next Chapter

[loredrinker]

Thoughts from a Fandom Newbie

Jumping into the Dragon Age fandom for the first time has been… an experience. I’ve spent countless hours immersed in games like Skyrim, Fallout, Mass Effect, Baldur’s Gate - and, of course, my all-time favorite, Dragon Age. 

For years, I stayed on the sidelines: crafting headcanons and backstories, writing private fanfiction, reading online essays and fics anonymously, and debating with my sister, brother, and best friend. But joining a fandom space to engage (thanks to the resurgence of Solas after all these years) felt like diving into the Fade: equal parts excitement and fear. Fandoms are brimming with creativity, but wow, can they be territorial. (All you veteran fandom content creators are probably nodding right now.  I salute you for being in this much longer than me.) 

Storytelling is Personal 

We all approach stories and characters through our own unique lenses, shaped by our values, emotions, and experiences. That’s what makes storytelling so powerful. It’s also why I enjoy reading other people’s interpretations - not only am I engaging with art in its many forms, but as someone fascinated by human behavior, it’s a glimpse into people. 

I do my best to channel my inner Cole when I encounter perspectives or stories that differ from my own: compassion first. Because storytelling is so personal.  

And competing perspectives can feel personal because we pour so much of ourselves into these characters and worlds. When someone’s interpretation clashes with ours, it can feel like a critique of our individuality. That vulnerability can be hard to shake. 

Canon as a Foundation – Not a Rulebook 

I see canon as a foundation for fan interpretations, not a dividing line between “right” and “wrong.” Anders destroying the Kirkwall Chantry is canon - that’s unchangeable. But whether he’s a revolutionary, a terrorist, or a tragic pawn? That’s where interpretation comes in. Similarly, Solas being the Dread Wolf is canon, but how you view his actions, motivations, or morality is open to imagination. 

Canon is the skeleton; our imaginations give it life.  

And yes, we all cherry-pick details to fit our headcanons - it’s the nature of imagination! What I like about fandom lies in the taking what resonates with us and building on it. Stories thrive when we expand on them.  

Headcanons and Bias 

Confession: I’m a devoted Solas and Lavellan romancer. (Shocking, I know.) My love for Solas and Lavellan colours everything I see in Dragon Age: Inquisition and Veilguard, and I’m totally comfortable with that bias. But my bias is based on how I’ve interpreted Solas and the Inquisitor over the years, how I see them and that story through the lens of my own values, morals and experiences.  

But I don’t tear down someone else’s ship or interpretation because theirs is different. 

When I come across alternative perspectives, I mull them over. Sometimes they amuse me, sometimes they challenge me to rethink my stance, and sometimes they just don’t resonate - so I move on. I appreciate the chance to reflect and, maybe, reconsider my own views. I like introspection.  

Headcanons add depth and personal meaning to stories, even if others don’t share them. The key is remembering they’re subjective, not gospel.

That’s why I can’t help but be amused whenever someone declares, “See? This proves I’m right! It’s confirmed right here!” Let’s be real – we can all find “receipts” to support our narratives if we look hard enough. 

Getting mad about someone’s fanfic or headcanon? That’s like yelling at me for liking pineapple on my pizza - it doesn’t affect your slice. (Canadian reflex, sorry.) 

Reflections 

If someone’s take on a story bothers you, maybe it's an opportunity for self-reflection. Stories are meant to challenge us and help us grow.  

The key is recognizing that just because someone’s interpretation doesn’t align with yours, it doesn’t make their creativity invalid. Their take is a reflection of where they are, just as your reactions and preferences are a reflection of where you are. Both have value, and neither diminishes the other. 

Sorry, I geek out over self-reflection and introspection - maybe that’s why I love Solas so much. 

And if you’re rolling your eyes at me right now because self-reflection isn’t your thing and you just want an escape from the real world, I totally get it! Stick with your people, those who share your views and celebrate what you love. Rejoice together. Just refrain from tearing others down for loving something differently.

I love art in all its forms - music, books, games, paintings, film. Whether someone writes raunchy Astarion smut (looking at you, sis), crafts a 10-page soliloquy on Varric’s chest hair, or creates Solas/Lavellan fan art that leaves me ugly crying, it’s all part of the beautifully messy madness of fandom that I’m quite enjoying. 

Diving into fandom this year has taught me that no single interpretation needs to be “right” to be meaningful. Every creative work reflects the personal connections we form with these stories. Even when I don’t agree, I enjoy seeing my favorite worlds and characters through someone else’s eyes. 

[nicolajpg]

i was tagged by two friends of mine @thorinoakenbutt and @leopardmuffinxo to make my dragon age ocs in this adorable picrew :D!!

thank you so much for the tag hihi💖💖💖 giving you both the biggest kiss on the cheek🫶🌻

★ Roselyn Tabris - a person delicate like a flower but after the death of her fiance (missing you like crazy nelarossss </3 </3) becomes quite jaded and has a hard time to open up again (well she learns to open up with alistair but those are details :))) )

★ Hawke - sorry i didnt to anything with hawke, i love this characters sooo much just as it is!!!! its like the same case as shepard 😭😭 love their design so so much yummyyy (fave romance personally is the anders route...........)

★ Alma Lavellan - she was quite young when was in the position of the inquisitor, maybe she was the trouble maker but was surely a people person!! after the messy break up with solas (more like a situationship but whatever) she choose that would litteraly put his ass under 5 meters under the ground (we love someone who is petty🫳)

about the rook.... i do have one named Vis? it means dream in romanian but if you change the s with ș its Viș from the word vișin/vișină which is sour cherry in romanian :(( so we have this skgksngjd

also i do not know who to tag hmm.... well im not going to pressure people but here are the victims of the tagging game akfkgjs @corffiser @vangbelsing @kitkabam @zevswarden @serwuz @velnat004 @avalost

kissing you guys 💆💖💖💖

[curioussubjects]

got all the murals in the lighthouse completed last night and 100% the veilguard doing a roundtable on the worst moments of solas's life was as bonkers as i was expecting

also the longer nobody mentions he was with lavellan the more it reads like burying the cherry on the absolute shitshow sundae that has been this man's life

im laughing so i dont cry because the whole thing is just so sad

[ekwolfwood]

Happy New Year I wanted to be back and I actually had a post about the bad things AND the good things complete with photos but it fucking uuhhhhhhhhh broke? So. Yeah. I'll try again but nooo, no photos for me i guess.

but anyways HELLO WORLD, MY QUEUE IS ACTUALLY ALMOST DEAD I HAVE BEEN ACCIDENTALLY AVOIDING THIS PLACE FOR REASONS UNKNOWN EVEN TO ME.

but yeeeeah about that 2023. its been a ~real bad year~ huh, or was it just me? Thought I'd throw up a little end ofthe year wrap up, but have been putting it off because a lot of it sucked.

Between multiple deaths in the family, covid still doing its plaguebearing thing, so much fucking stress, worsening symptoms and endless doctor visits and even worse fatigue thats left me in bed most of each week, im... it seems like i got nothing done.

But it wasnt all bad! I'm trying to think on all the things i did this year (and a LOT of things i acquired this year i did... a lot of retail therapy for the first time in my life really???)

-I cant believe i got to see a Rick Riordan Q&A live, like, it seems like AGES ago but was only this year???? It was a genuine bucket list item for me

-i started drawing again??? And im kinda improving???? Id like to share some of it one day somewhere?? Scary.

-got to dip my toes back into cons again! Only the safe/outdoor ones, but it was nice seeing folks again, despite some drawbacks (like AN being 40°C and witnessing a real stupid truck crash, and Yeti being nothing but stress overall and causing some ~brand new (old) symptoms~)

-I started my new life of cosplaying my own OC's over other things. Being Virtue (my dnd pastel barbiecore nightmare child) was absolutely freeing, i cant wait to make him 7 million new outfits

-especially because i got to do a freaking location shoot at a super cool, very out of the way waterfall, with a reflecting pool. i cant wait to bring so many things there

-also did a waterfall tour of Owen Sound. soooooo many dnd/dragon age/etc shoot ideas

-im also saving up for a few dream dragon age costumes, and its gonna be like uhhhhh.... $500ish worth of scalemail? (for two seperate projects)

-speaking of dragon age, i got alex into inquisition and i've become a nightmare about it again im not sorry

-alex and i went halvsies on thigh high boots that are 100% for my Lavellan, because he's a thot and deserves them

-tell me not to spend another like $150cdn on the official shirts. theyre just. so SOFT. they are a pure sensory joy.

-i bought so many cardigans from independent artists, on preorders. and like none of them are here yet but next falls gonna be 👌👌👌

-i have a lolita problem. got to wear one of my fanciest to the cherry blossoms at the height of my pain flares back in the spring! i now have two new dresses on top of that! there's a third im eyeing right now to go with one of my new cardigans! its a real problem y'all 😂

-but by far my biggest and best decision was i saved up for two solid years and was able to buy myself A FREAKING PS5 without breaking budget at all?????? I'm genuinely proud of myself, this was the exact opposite of an impulse buy??? even got to gift a friend the CoD game that came with it, because i was never gonna touch that lol

Next year better keep up the good things, and no new fucking symptoms. Also, depending on the Yeti news, im not letting myself be that fucking stressed this time around.

[dingbingbats]

would've done this sooner but i was tagged around when i was shadowbanned lol

coke or pepsi? dr pepper unless cherried coke

disney or dreamworks? #shreksweep

coffee or tea? somda...

books or movies? uhhhhhh. uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

windows or mac? windows all the way

dc or marvel? i just like james gunn's work o

x-box or playstation? nint swi

dragon age or mass effect? haven't touched either ever

night owl or early riser? night owl alright

cards or chess? no bongcloud in cards :(

chocolate or vanilla? choclayate all the way

vans or converse? shoes is shoes

Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash, or Adaar? no fuckin clue what those are

fluff or angst? both's good

beach or forest? depends on bugs

dogs or cats? kimmy

clear skies or rain? rain it's too hot here usually

cooking or eating out? eating out ig. sensory issue...

spicy food or mild food? my spice tolerance is below sea level

halloween/samhain or solstice/yule/christmas? idrk at this point. month off school but family and no friends

would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot? neither what is wrong with you. cold ig

if you could have a superpower, what would it be? shapeshifting or invisibility ez

animation or live action? animation (esp 2d, pixel, and stop mo) but practical effects are sick as hell

paragon or renegade? whichever is funnier

baths or showers? bath

team cap or team ironman? taylor hebert kill them with spiders. but eh ig i like captain america in terms of representing progress (and not being a billionaire)

fantasy or sci-fi? fantasy but i do like sci-fi elements

do you have three or four favourite quotes, if so what are they? idk but there are some shitposts that replay in my mind on a semiregular basis

youtube or netflix? youtube ig

[REDACTED]

when do you feel accomplished? when im doing better than someone else tbh

star wars or star trek? i like the funi robots

paperback books or hardcover books? hardcover

to live in a world without literature or without music? depends on if we count comics as literature i think

who was the last person to make you laugh? idk

city or countryside? city

favorite chips? fucked up in the club eating detos

pants or dresses? pants

libraries or museums? natural history museums

character driven stories or plot driven stories? that juicy midpoint.

bookmarks or folding pages? bookmarks wtf is wrong w/ you

Dream job? i do not dream of labor. money for having opinions would be nice tho

What gives you comfort? friends, blorbos and catharsis

what are some of your favorite song lyrics? chorus, "Nobodyʼs perfect anymore / So why canʼt I be your golden boy?", all of this

favorite ice cream flavor ever?

tagging others, add your own new question at the end if you follow up: @rapt0r @that-one-empty-skull @tatangadragon @not-too-many-eyes

[nelkenbabe]

Ivy & Twine WIP: Shacking Up

After the Inquisition is disbanded, Amaryll makes a pit stop in Kirkwall on her way to Clan Lavellan. To her dismay, the Viscount seems to already be filled in on everything that happened since Halamshiral.

"So... you and Curly?"

Amaryll almost spit the whole cherry back out.

"What? You thought me leaving Skyhold meant I wouldn't keep tabs on what's happening down there? Ha!"

"I would have thought you're busy, Viscount Tethras," she replied pointedly after chewing with deliberation and moving the pit to her cheek.

"Never too busy for gossip. Especially when it comes to my friends." His eyes gleamed. "I gotta say, I knew you were gonna do something crazy after the Winter Palace. Didn't see you shacking up with with Curly, though."

She was about to give a retort, something between scathing and defensive, but as Amaryll stopped for a second and took in Varric's relaxed smile, her shoulders dropped. The last few days in Skyhold, Cullen and her hadn't been embarrassed about being together. Had flaunted it, in fact. So why did she feel like she had to explain herself to Varric? Because he hadn't been there to see it develop? Because it was still fresh?

Something crazy, alright. That's what it had to look like, for someone who didn't know what had happened.

Amaryll took the small bowl to unceremoniously spit the cherry pit inside. And with it, all pretense.

"I'm going back to Ferelden after visiting my clan," she then said in a much calmer tone. "I'll meet Cullen in Highever and then we'll travel to Therinfal Redoubt to see how the College of Enchanters is settling in. You probably know that he petitioned Queen Anora to let the College use it as a base. Shouldn't be long until they can start producing potions and earn their keep. Cullen used his military connections to facilitate the agreement."

As Amaryll recounted this, eyes still on the bowl of fruit, Varric's face gradually lost the spark of mischief and settled into something else. He folded his broad hands over the dark, heavy table top, leaning his head back a little. After a bit of silence, Amaryll met his eyes.

"Never thought I'd live to see the day," Varric said somewhere between solemness and jest, "Curly helping mages. By using diplomacy, no less.Your doing?"

"No," Amaryll replied without hesitation, "his own. He felt he had some things to make up for. All I did was be there."

Varric sat on that for a while.

"So there is no shacking, is what you're telling me," he finally said, only to earn himself a quick, brutal smack on the arm. "OW!"

[makerscockandballs]

For the oc questionnaire thing, I'd like to know #1, #3 (preferably physical traits), #31 and #43 for all of your guys if you have the time!

oooh this is gonna be a long one :D (related to this ask meme)

1: What is their go-to comfort food?

Maison Surana: Orlesian chocolate truffles. Tried them once at a banquet he was performing at and got obsessed. You could bribe him with them.

Orev Hawke: Hearty, heavy Fereldan stew like they used to make in Lothering. It’s just potato and turnip and whatever veggies are in season, doesn’t even taste like much but keeps you warm and fed.

Thelrael Lavellan: Sweets of any kind, but most of all a certain Dalish dessert made primarily from wild honey & roasted fruit.

Magnolia Trevelyan: Tomato soup but with tons of hot pepper powder – a classic she’s used to from the Circle, but the spice is her own twist to make it more interesting. Overall, she loves spicy & heavily seasoned cooking, the more the better even if it makes her eyes water. If habanero potato chips were a thing in Thedas she’d eat three bags a day.

3: What is something they really like about themselves and what is something you really like about them? (Physical Traits)

Maison: He doesn’t care too much about his appearance aside from looking neat and presentable but takes some joy in his teeth being pointier than normal. Part of it is just how they always looked, part of it is Warden Weirdness. I love his facial scars, both the characterization aspect (refuses to cover them up yet hates seeing them in the mirror) and from a “looks badass” aspect.

Orev: He really likes his hair and tries out all kinds of styles with it once he has the time and money. And honestly I agree, it’s also my favourite thing about him to draw :D

Thelrael: He really, really likes his legs, all his outfits are built around making his legs stand out (haha get it. stand out). I really like his profile, it’s overall flat and a bit round — a bit of a babyface that absolutely works for him and makes him look mischievous.

Magnolia: She really likes her overall build, especially her muscular arms. Worked lots and carried around lots of things when she was tranquil which sucked, but at least now it helps her defend herself. Josephine’s obvious glances are a big plus too. I really like her eyes, they’re big and a very dark deep brown.

31: What would make them blush?

Maison: Compliments and reassuring words about him as a person. He holds himself to impossibly high standards and is never satisfied, but hearing that others think positively about him means so much.

Orev: Coming from the right person, almost everything. Friend telling him they care about him or thanking him? Red. Anders kissing him or even just giving him the smallest compliment? Bright fucking red. Meanwhile anyone outside his close social circle could blatantly and passionately flirt with him and get nothing more than a friendly smile or some playful flirting back. All or nothing babe

Thelrael: It takes *a lot* to get this bastard flustered. A lot. He also has no sense of shame. Whoever tries to make him blush ends up being the actually flustered one within minutes. Nobody has figured out a way to do it yet, but Dorian is certainly trying.

Magnolia: Getting nice personal gifts, especially accessories and flowers. Makes her feel special and courted like a princess. She’s not used to having such nice things and wears them with pride. Getting compliments about how that new hairpin or earring fits her is the cherry on top.

43: And what would you say to comfort them?

Maison: You cannot save everyone, but what matters is that you tried. You helped more people by trying and sometimes failing than you would have through inaction. Let yourself off the hook.

Orev: It’s not your fault. Kirkwall was a sinking ship, and one man alone cannot plug all its leaks no matter how hard he tries. Drowning along with it would not have helped anyone.

Thelrael: It’s okay to be angry. But it is still real, even if the gods were not gods at all, it all still mattered. Every celebration, every story, every ritual still brought your people together.

Magnolia: You’re safe now, and not alone anymore. Nothing can force you back into tranquility or hiding. It’s okay to finally let your guard down and breathe.

[fanworldbuildingfun]

Tagged by @teecupangel

Three Ships: (oh Gods do I need to narrow it down? Can’t even go by recent, they would all be AC-themed. So… Random it is)

1.       Ezio Auditore da Firenze / Desmond Miles (Assassin’s Creed)

This one is leading by a small margin over Desmond/Altaїr. Seniority privileges I guess? I have started AC fics (featuring romantic relationships, that is) with this ship. One of my favorite comfort ships. I guess it’s because Ezio is the only Assassin we see having a peaceful, semi-quiet retirement. It’s something that we can get him to share with Desmond – and what better thing there is, after the Temple events? Point is, I adore the sheer softness one can fit into this ship that others don’t quite reach. Let Desmond be spoiled and not be judged for it

2.       Hannibal Lecter / William Graham (HBO Hannibal)

This is a shady one with oh-so-many bad touch vibes. But the courtship! The tension! And the sheer fact the intimacy can be seen play as day, and we don’t even have a single kiss to show for it. And I find it a pleasant contrast to a lot of mainstream media these days. The amount of mindgames being played on oh so many levels is just a cherry on the top. Just don’t mind the, uh, matters of tastes. That would be quire rude and rude people don’t fare well in this franchise.

3.       Solas / Lavellan (Dragon Age: Inquisition)

Ah, my love for courtly love… Thy strikes again. Now, this is a Bioware RPG so obviously it can branch hard. But it still remains one of the few game romances where you can see the end coming and still paint both characters madly in love. Just… Love doesn’t trump duty, here. You still split - and then proceed to have exactly zero relationships with anyone else till your hastily approaching end. If Ezio/Desmond is a comfort ship, then this one is the angst ship for when one needs a good cry

(I’ll steal the idea and do some honorable mentions myself: Basim/Eivor (no idea how, but it happened), JangoObi (the earlier fics), Arcann/N!Wrath)

First Ship: if we are going by “which one you started to read fics for”, then it would be Kagome Higurashi/Sesshoumaru (Inuyasha: A Feudal Fairy Tale)

Last Song: That Unwanted Animal by The Amazing Devil

Last Film: uh… Would TV series do? If so, Dragon Age Absolution (and it was pretty but the plot was eh)

Currently reading: a compilation of Iranian Fairy Tales

Currently watching: Star Wars: Visions, The Golden Girls (1985)

Currently consuming: caffe d’orzo with milk

Currently craving: a quiet week in log cabin in middle of autumn forest

Tagging: @pslamsofpsychosis , @krispyscreams (if either so desire, ofc)

[dykeofficials]

my current elven rooks <3 left is cherry thorne, they/he/she, transmasc lesbian grey warden, bellara romancer. middle is migizi aldwir, he/they; davrin romancer, but they also had a weird situationship with both solas and lavellan lol. right is orpheo de riva, he/him, gay trans crow, lucanis romancer.

cherry has dirthamen vallaslin, migizi has mythal vallaslin. orpheo is/was a city elf.