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scribeofmorpheus · 3 months ago

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Dragon Age Veilguard: Love, Wisdom and Pride

A very long Dragon Age post!

Warnings for: Veilguard Spoilers, Solavellan spoilers.

Okay, so I will preface this by saying that this ‘analysis’ primarily focuses on Solas’ arc; both romanced and unromanced. It isn’t intended to be a romanticised analysis, though it is very much enamoured with how a romanced Solas and his relationship with Lavellan foils (and informs my reading/reception of) that of Solas and Mythal’s relationship in Veilguard. There is a relationship I will address that I feel does parallel Solas and Mythal! Scroll down to “Reading Between the Lines” if you wanna skip my little intro below. Spoilers follow.

Truth be told, I wasn’t ever expecting much in terms of actually getting a sequel to Inquisition. The game dev market went through a tumultuous reshuffle before the remake madness breathed life back into many studios. Bioware game sequels (Mass Effect Andromeda) were underwhelming and not as fleshed out since the EA acquisition. I absolutely believe Bioware would have been shunted had Mass Effect Legendary Edition not been so successful. EA’s reputation was always lacklustre and underhanded, but laying off or losing several head writers attached to Bioware with almost two decades of work under their belts was the biggest red flag. Trevor Morris not being asked to return in exchange for a ‘bigger name’ was also a grave warning that returning to the atmosphere, ambience and world of Thedas that we knew was getting further and further away from a plausible reality. And on top of that, there’s the fact Solas was never intended as a romance interest during early development of Inquisition.

Solavellan seemed doomed!

Despite this, I still held out hope for a sequel, but I feared we’d always be in permanent Solavellan/developmental hell. Heck, I’m still waiting for a Beyond Good and Evil sequel—the game released in 2003! So, actually witnessing people play Veilguard, seeing reactions to it, seeing memes and gifs and essay pieces (like this one), it’s like my community has awoken again, and I never thought I’d see the day. Yet I am not blind to the fact we were robbed of so much potential. I knew thing’s wouldn’t live up to re-emerging expectations when Dragon Age: Dreadwolf was rebranded to Veilguard—the shift seemed to imply less of a primary focus on Solas (and apparently, according to the artbook, the early concept art proves this implication correct).

Things seemed even more dire when the devs revealed there was no tapestry mechanic. I had only one hope: that with the Inquisitor’s confirmed return, we’d get at least some form of catharsis for our Inquisitors (Lavellans and otherwise), if we couldn’t get the conclusions to so many storylines present in each of our worldstates. My main fear was that they’d go the clichéd Ultimate Sacrifice route (which happens anyway, but in a way that makes thematic sense given the stakes and heavily blighted worldstate).

Suffice it to say, there was a lot of evidence that Veilguard would disappoint me in the end. But it hasn’t. It hasn’t lived up to the many expectations and marks of excellence that the Dragon Age world built itself into with the first three entries, that’s for sure, but I am also just so deprived of conclusions, of endings (whether it be because TV doesn’t exist in a sustainable format anymore or that comicbook movies are made with a sequel in mind, never letting anything just “Exit Stage Left” gracefully; or the fact we live in a regurgitating content cycle with late-stage-capitalism where anything remotely profitable gets turned into a caricature of itself: Squid Game, Star Wars, etc.). The cycle is so exhaustive that I am actually at a point where I can say I am content with the ending we were given (on a Solas/Solavellan front), Veilguard gave me relief, and beautiful, achy pain to boot. Though I would absolutely be disappointed by both the "non-romanced Solas" endings, given that Solas winds up either "dying alone, forever" or turns to Tyranny.

Now onto the actual review of that Solavellan ending, Mythal and themes of Love!

Note: I have only gotten the ‘best’ ending in my first playthrough, but I also thought the consequences of not maxing factions would be more… dire? Another note, pls, if your romanced Inky swore to stop Solas, how does that ending differ, if at all? Let me know, I’m dying here!

Sidenote: I’m working on writing another review about my views on the ‘sanitised’ worldstate, the new companions (and why I think Varric was the wrong choice to have as an advisor in the game, given that the Inquisitor or Morrigan would have been more impactful; and not to mention that Cole or Briala should have been companions), removal of the tapestry and what it means for the future of stories in Thedas (The Story We Lost is such a poignant compilation of the sheer volumes of lost lore and depth that I honestly think I won’t go as in-depth on that review as this one), and why I think Veilguard is my final entry into Dragon Age.

Reading Between the Lines: What Pride Hath Wrought

One thing is for sure, Trick Weekes flourishes when writing within the ambiguities and complexities of meaning. This makes every word uttered by Solas so great to dissect, he's a god of lies not because he 'lies' but because he's so careful with how he phrases things, what he holds back, and what he reveals.

For instance, the famous Trespasser exchange where Solas mocks his own follies with sarcasm by saying:

“What is the old Dalish curse? May the Dread Wolf Take you.”

Then a softer, more saddened and beaten-down Lavellan replies:

“And so he did.”

This irks him. Because he then realises in that moment that he absolutely did take advantage, but for some reason he frames it around sex rather than power because that’s easier to address than the latter. And he rejects the notion, even though he brought up the expression he knows to mean nothing close to a sexual inuendo for being ‘taken’, and yet he has the gall to try and derail the conversation by pivoting and saying:

“I would not lay with you under false pretences.”

When I first had this dialogue exchange, I was baffled, because did this mean that there was another meaning to ‘Dread Wolf take you’ that Dalish clans lost through the years, or was it more of a self-deprecating joke Solas had with himself because he, the Dread Wolf, romanced (took) a Dalish Inquisitor (away from her people’s beliefs, histories, past), and he found irony in the saying?

On the surface, “wouldn’t lay with you under false pretences” could simply mean “we didn’t sleep together” or “we did sleep together, but I wasn’t taking advantage as the Dread Wolf, I was simply Solas in your presence”. But I have recently thought of a more… ambiguous reading. Lay could have been used in a milder, more vulnerable way; to mean to be at peace, to be completely vulnerable, as if to sleep. In that sense, the phrasing becomes: “I could not be at peace with you because I was living a half-truth”.

I absolutely think the moment he feels he is truly beyond hope is when we see his expression of abject horror as Lavellan shouts: “I would have had you trust me!”. He realises then that he did fuck up, he did take the choice away from her because he thought he knew better, him and his pride led to a decision that hurt someone close to him, and he could finally see how wrong he was, how alike the entire situation became to Mythal’s treatment of him. Especially if Lavellan asks to go with him. Because he can see that despite the hurt, the lies and the betrayal on his part, Lavellan still wishing to join him draws too close to his first regret: following Mythal.

Whether he likes it or not, Solas’ love which could burn like a bonfire was directed at a powerful woman—a Herald, an Inquisitor—and inspite of her greatness of character, it still shaped her into someone willing to follow him on his dinanshiral out of love, much like he left the Fade and took physical form for Mythal. So now whenever I hear Lavellan shout “Var lath vir suledin”, Solas replying with “I wish it could, Vhenan,” changes drastically with the Mythal reveal, knowing he always walks away from the Inquisitor in Trespasser.

“I wish it could, Vhenan” sounds heavily like: “You would regret me, as I regret Mythal, and I cannot bear for that to happen us.” More poetically, it could read as: “I wish our love could overcome a duty that has lasted an incomprehensible amount of time, I wish I could change my nature, but then I’d be twisted into a demon, like the spirit of Wisdom in the Dales; and yet again, I would become your regret.” These two readings are very, very romantic. Realistically, given what we know of his kinship with Felassan, and how they were comrades and friends for centuries (“A story unfinished. His back turned!”), and given what we know of the complexity of Mythal’s will that presides over the creation of his very being, and yet he was still able to muster the strength to kill a fragment of her to fulfil his mission, “I wish it could” was most probably a lament: “Do not ask me to hurt one of the two women I’ve loved on this journey, because if it ever came to it…” he would.

Knowing what I know of Solas, of how he was able to convince himself that Varric’s death (avoidable as it was) was just another necessary step, that it was just another sacrifice, another loss that would be worth something only if he completed his ritual, I have no doubt that Solas would also be able to rationalise hurting Lavellan (which is why in his mind, turning away from her, breaking her heart, leaving with no explanation and aiding her in Trespasser so she could live whatever few years remained in “relative peace” is actually an act of preserving that love). I partially think the reason he reveals the truth in Trespasser (especially for a romanced Lavellan) is in the hopes his ‘truths’ will push her away. But on a deeper note, I think he also thinks of it as some twisted form of repaying her for loving him to the point that he could have almost forgotten what it was to be the Dread Wolf, to just be with her as Solas, that night at Crestwood. Maybe his harsh truths would push her to the point where she’d give up her love for Solas, now that she knew he was the Dread Wolf, freeing her from the shackles of their love. He’s very self-flagellating, all about self-sacrifice for the ultimate goal, the ends always justify the means, he will endure any pain and punishment as long as Arlathan returns in the end.

What is his love of a mortal compared to the despair and loss of an entire empire? Solas views himself as selfish for falling for her, and that nearly broke him, if he was selfish enough to leave the dream of Arlathan behind for her, what would that do to his spirit then?

In his way of thinking, perhaps telling the Inquisitor the truth is a way out, a rationale they can use to justify stopping him or to make it easier to hate him as the Dread Wolf rather than love him as Solas (someone he hasn’t been in so long).

‘Masking’ as the Dread Wolf

During Trespasser, the Inquisitor has every right to despise Solas after all they’ve learned, and I think he half reveals the truth as a tactic so the Inquisitor can have an excuse to hate him, to be driven to anger and have less pull over his choices, once they learn the truth. Solas is particularly skilled at making other’s play the role that makes his own choices seem inevitable, he orchestrates a lot of events to play out in a manner where it's easier for him to talk himself into bringing down the veil.

He goads Elgar’nan to anger easily. He inspires the spirits to fight for him to the death as a necessary distraction during the war. He absolutely allows the Inquisitor to speak to him one last time so he can offer insight, yes, but also so he can easily frame his actions as just and inevitable. But, Oh boy does he get in for a shock if the Inquisitor shows empathy towards him, it scares him because he’s become accustomed to being seen only as the Dread Wolf. To be understood? That gives way to remorse. And remorse gives way to doubt. And he cannot doubt his purpose, twisted as it is, it is all he has left of his former self. Without it he would most likely change into something different. Someone he doesn’t recognise.

This fear intensifies more so if a romanced Lavellan asks to go with him, and in that case, he takes command and distances himself away (rejecting the help of someone close to him; the chance for a possible betrayal; the chance at another Felassan or Mythal [x]; the chance to twist Lavellan outside of her purpose, in this case, the purpose would be love/empathy) but not without showing remorse at having sacrificed yet another relationship for his crusade.

“Ir abelas.”

Sorrow for what cannot be is at the heart of why the Solavellan romance is so powerful, especially because even though both Solas and Lavellan love each other passionately, love alone cannot be enough when faced with regrets. Love would ultimately be stifled. Corrupted into something else over time. And so, for Solas, having loved and lost tragically is better than having loved and corrupted.

He will not do to Lavellan what was done to him, even if it is her choice, because she knows so little, her naivete cannot close the distance of a millenia’s old sea, and it would hurt him immensely to take advantage of her kind heart [x].

By leaving, he keeps her heart pure. And the yearning! Knowing the love is there, but on its own it cannot be invulnerable to corruption, so it is better to lose it than twist it. Ugh! Him leaving Lavellan is the ultimate show of love! IT IS A WISE DECISION. A rare glimpse into pure wisdom. Which is why he kneels beside Lavellan in Trespasser, he does not “Stand Tall” in the face of Wisdom’s heart. He kneels beside her. And when he stands tall again, he is Solas once more, filled with regret, and once through the eluvian, he returns to masking as the Dread Wolf.

Sidenote: It’s especially confounding that Veilguard allows Rook to push the Inquisitor to save or stop him after you’ve reached act 2 despite your world state choice (I think this was done in case they feared the Inquisitor wouldn’t stand by Solas after everything he was revealed to be responsible for in Veilguard, however it doesn’t work because the Inquisitor wasn’t an advisor, Rook never told them what they learned from the wolf statues, so having a stranger hold the ability to make Lavellan keep her promise or not rings hollow). Personally, I wish the Inquisitor’s presence had more weight in the non-Solavellan endings, too. I wish the Inquisitor could end up being the last friend/former love that Solas destroys (if you don’t collect the wolf statues) which then prompts Rook to fight him because Solas’ last tie to empathy failed to redeem him, that the Inquisitor falling is the last straw and Solas snaps, choosing to be a villain in the hopes of being stopped because he can’t stop himself, and not the ‘I am a God’ ending they gave us. Same for if your Inquisitor vows to stop him. I also wish the Inquisitor was the one to do the wolf statue missions. Would have been a nice secondary protagonist mission like the switching perspectives between Kratos and Atreus in GOW: Ragnarök (the old guard and the new; Inquisitor and Rook). I would have loved if they dedicated more dialogue to Inquisition days too, which is why I think Cole should have been a companion (if he wasn’t recruited, he could simply be a compassion spirit that ‘follows’ the greatest pain in the Fade that yearns to be healed, giving a compassionate viewpoint to Solas’ folly; recruited Spirit Cole could have a greater connection to Solas than even Varric, seeing as Cole was most likely a literal representation of Solas rewriting his own history by preventing a spirit from becoming too ‘real’; Human Cole would have a deeper connection to the world of Thedas, and could have been a great tool to prove how change was inevitable, not always a bad thing, and inevitably out of even Solas’ control. But alas, we live with what we are given! Even Imshael could have served in this role! Spirit/Demon of choice and it wasn’t incorporated into the game that supposedly asks you to make the greatest world-changing choice ever; redeem the Dread Wolf or end the age of the Evanuris entirely?!

Now onto the next segment: I want to talk about Solas’ regrets and how I read the ‘love story’ between Solas and Mythal, and why Lavellan (and what she represented) wasn’t enough to get through to him (and that’s a very believable thing, that’s what makes their love both tragic and epic!).

The High Price of Redemption

A romanced Lavellan has the most agency to see through his guises, if she resolves to save him, but even she cannot undo the shackles that still bind him to Mythal—the binds that twisted Wisdom so far from its purpose it became Pride, even when he burned (Mythal) from his face. (Likewise, A close friend Inquisitor who promises to save him is most likely a parallel to Felassan, again, they cannot undo the shackles of regret either.) I fully believe the vallaslin had a deeper magic than simply marking one as being committed/devoted to an Evanuris, I think it linked them magically, and since Solas was the first to burn the vallaslin away, he probably wasn’t as good at severing the link on himself as he was for other elvhen, so maybe a part of Mythal’s will still lingers in him, twisting him to Pride still.

In Veilguard’s final confrontation, I love the intention of showing how Lavellan approaches Solas slowly, as she doesn’t know who she’ll be faced with up those steps, Dread Wolf or Solas. But when she speaks to him, trying to get him to change his mind yet again, forgiving him for his wrongs, we are reassured that Wisdom hasn’t been completely consumed by Pride despite everything we’ve witnessed in the game because he bows his head at her in reverence as he apologises.

He shows humility towards her. He elevates her and her enduring love as worthy of his respect, but he does not consider himself worthy of hers. Thus, Lavellan pries open the door to acceptance but his heart is still not enough. Which is why love alone cannot turn the tide. He’s too broken to accept it. He doesn’t think he deserves it, so the only way out is through; to continue the ritual, to prove he was right. The shackles persist. Varric’s death weighs on his conscience now more than ever. Possibly members of Rook’s team too if they died on his crusade. But he is vulnerable enough for Morrigan to approach, and now Rook can use Mythal’s essence to make the final push. The only way he could be with Lavellan, the only way he could atone for the past and shed the weight of his armour (his crushing duty to the Elvhenan) is as Wisdom, fully restored, unbound by mistakes.

“Ar lasa mala revas.” He could only find absolution once Mythal (the angered and more brash essence of Mythal, the one unchanged by Flemeth and all the human women’s lives she’s been shaped by, but the closest iteration to that of Mythal in Arlathan, the version that he perceives as having every right to be angry at him for turning his back on her, for not going that last final stretch with her and subsequently, not being by her side when she died) severed the final connection: facing his regrets, showing humility and apologizing, while not taking away the blame but sharing it.

What is Benevolence without Wisdom if not Hubris?

We know Elgar’nan was twisted to Tyranny during the war, and I saw a post somewhere where someone wondered what led to his corruption, and what he was before (leadership/command). Likewise, Mythal was not above corruption.

So far, I’ve seen a lot of takes on Solas’ ties to Mythal, the power dynamic of being a student/disciple enamoured (could be romantic) with the benevolence of Mythal, but not how Mythal’s purpose was possibly also twisted towards hubris the moment she asked Wisdom to turn physical and build weapons from its knowledge, twisting it to Pride. Without Elgar’nan’s tyranny to rally against after the war with the Titans, Mythal would most likely turn a similar route, seeing her ruling as “necessary” for the people: “If not me then who?”. And that is a very short stop and quick drop to “I am your all-powerful ruler, I liberated you, and only I can guide the way”. Benevolence twisted by hubris can easily turn to Tyranny too, only one more subtle, a kind of cultish indoctrination compared to violent subjugation. If Solas had not turned his back on Mythal when she chose to be Evanuris (a god over her people) then they most likely would have made the worst (best) pair in the Evanuris. Pride is the Seventh Deadliest Sin. But imagine Pride next to Godhood?! That is frightening. So, when Solas burns the vallaslin, walks away and works against the Evanuris, I believe that he also inadvertently stops Mythal from becoming a corrupted version of herself. The sorrow at having lost her closest confidant and “love” grounds her, keeps her saintly in Solas’ mind, and in some ways, perhaps saves the Elvhen empire from a worse fate than him erecting the veil to begin with. But neither of them ever consider this. And I think that sort of self-blindness perfectly encapsulates how flawed both Mythal and Solas are. Now onto love.

Solas and Mythal – a Love too complex to simply classify as mortal ‘Love’.

There’s no doubt Mythal and Solas shared a deep bond, one that definitely had love in it, when we hear Mythal calling him ‘love’, without the possessive ‘my’ in front of it, it’s easy to misconstrue what type of love they share. A small nitpick, but like a thorn, it applies sometimes just enough pressure to change a perspective. Not calling Solas “My love” but instead choosing to simply use “love” works within those wonderful ambiguities/complexities that Weekes thrives in.

If one started out as a spirit, it’s safe to say concepts like familial bonds, romantic bonds, and blood ties mean little to nothing. There is no one type of love and there is every kind of love all at once. It is only once physical bodies are introduced, that physical touch, the ability to stab someone in the back, to kiss out of affection, to hug out of empathy, to strike out of anger, that love now becomes this twisted thing too. There are no spirits of love because spirits always possessed love, but there are demons of Desire (Gluttony) and of Rage (love denied).

I believe, from GDL’s acting skills, his soft whisper, his almost submissive smallness in the breadth of Mythal’s already soft voice, that Solas was in love with Mythal, devoted as a student, beguiled by her benevolence, content even in her shadow, and possibly star-struck. He was in love with someone who doesn’t have the possibility to love him back the same, it is not in her nature to love those beneath her in the same intensity that those who look up to her do. It’s like a priest being in love with God. The priest can devote themselves, sacrifice everything, but a God will always love their flock equally, but they can still play favourites.

Benevolence cannot be enamoured with Wisdom because to be truly benevolent they must possess Wisdom but there is also Pride to be had in walking beside benevolence, but they can never be on equal footing. Likewise, Solas’ love is not reciprocated entirely by Mythal, but she does love him back in her own way. While Mythal is definetly Solas’ first love, layered and complex, it is also strangled by regrets and twisted by uneven scales of power. It would never be a nurturing love, only a consuming kind.

When he speaks of Mythal during the Solavellan ending, he calls her his “oldest friend”, much like what Mythal says, (paraphrasing) “would you have me be angry at my oldest companion whose experienced so much with me”. Because friendship is perhaps the easiest way to describe their companionship. They went through many iterations, one certainly holding romantic tensions (specifically from younger Solas), but ultimately, with that much time shared, kinship/friendship becomes the easiest to surmise. You can love your friends, fall in love with them, fall out of love with them, only to love them again, be disappointed in them, etc.

Media today is flushed with romance as a linchpin for driving a hero to make dire choices, and that has warped our perception of how a platonic/non-romance-based relationship can be all-consuming, and sometimes more impassioned than strict romance. But, to make it easier for people to understand Solas’ motivations, it's easier to see their love in the light Taash sees it (an unreliable, somewhat “still juvenile” narrator, in that they are still growing into themselves and their culture and the world): “They were doing it”.

However, Bellara, a companion whose entire companion story is linked to her strong, deeply character-driving relationship with her brother (platonic love) refutes that reading by saying (paraphrasing here): “We don’t know if their ‘love’ is the same type of love we tend to think of in a masculine and feminine relationship.”

Felassan’s letter after the Mythal Dragon fight alludes to Solas having been in love with Mythal, but nothing about how she felt. This is why I consider the Solas/Mythal relationship to be more of a one-sided romantic love, but a requited ‘love’ relationship for them both.

A parallel I find so compelling: Solas and Mythal vs Briala and Celene. Solas and Briala both hold deep emotions for people in great power with the ability to end a tyrannical cycle of subjugation, enslavement and classism, yet for both of these ruler’s charisma and well-meaning intent, they often are swayed to side with tyranny. For Mythal, that was Elgarnan, the Evanuris who made all the other’s worse tyrants; as well as her own hubris for believing her presence alone could dampen the ravenous hunger for power that the rest of the Evanuris held at the small prospect of leading the Elvhen in a time of confusion (being a North Star is hard when all the other lights around you aim to blind the flock into submission). For Celene, this is more about the nuances of retaining favour, pull and power over other noble families, their backing (be it financial, political or simply cut-throat), and their support so she can be the ‘lesser of two evils’ compared to Gaspard’s warmongering personality and Florianne simply being a puppet with no backbone. Both Briala and Solas are turned to pawns despite their immense strength and compassion for their respective elven plights; Briala is rendered a fangless lion (for lack of a better metaphor) if she is reunited with Celene, whereas if she is chosen to puppet Gaspard, there’s every likelihood her story could parallel a ‘power-mad’ Solas if he’d been tethered to Rage (at betrayal) and not Regret (at having not rejected Mythal when she asked him to take a physical body) throughout his tenure as the Dread Wolf.

Solas and Lavellan – a Heart that was never intended to be Given/Taken

Now I will compare the lack of possessives in front of Mythal’s “love” to Solas declaring Lavellan as ‘Vhenan’ and then ‘Ar lath, ma Vhenan’ vs ‘Ar lath ma vhenan'; again, the coma is the thorn, the pause that shapes the quiet unsaid things we can deduce. In the Trespasser cutscene DGL puts the pause after “Ar lath”, even though the subtitles construct the sentence with Vhenan as a proper noun since it’s a nickname often used by Solas: “Ar lath ma, Vhenan”. But I believe Solas actually says “Ar lath, ma Vhenan”.

With “Ar lath, ma Vhenan” the stressor is after the pause, so the line reads: “I love [you], my heart.” And with “Ar lath ma, Vhenan” it makes even less structural sense but can be inferred to mean: “I love you, Heart”.

The possessiveness of “My” is what definitively differentiates the love Solas feels for Lavellan as one more of the romantic side, it is a love of yearning and desire and a wish to have one last good thing that is pure and incorruptible. The one thing he had left to give. His heart. But that does not mean his heart is enough! The rest of him is still bound to the love of Mythal that was twisted through the ages. That changed him. And given how Pride often comes before a fall, I absolutely understand why Solas is actually very brash and ill-considering when he’s romancing Lavellan (“The kiss was ill-considered”/”It would be kinder in the long run”/”I wanted to show you what you mean to me”). He's on a precarious cliff during Inquisition. His first plan failed. He's allowed ancient elvhen magic to fall into a blighted Tevinter magister's hands. Literally everything the Inquisition did could have been for nought if the Mark had fallen to the wrong person. Things could have easily fallen apart for Solas too, so why not indulge in something trifling and fleeting? Execpt it wasn't trifling. Nor was it fleeting. And when he saw that the fall could potentially not happen, that the Inquisitor could do it, save Thedas and retrieve the orb, he was struck by the gravity of his brashness, of letting impulses control him instead of acting according to a plan. But it was too late. They'd both fallen for each other.

Solas didn’t expect to form entanglements within the Inquisition. He was committed. He was angry at the world, “walking through a sea of tranquil”, called flat-ear by the Dalish that later chased him from their village when he proved he was the Dread Wolf. He was despised by people who looked like him. Spirits were constantly being abused and turned into demons. People erected monuments to heroes who slew demons. Mages were caged. Elves were subjugated. The empire fell. Humans razed the lands with their wars and petty squabbles of succession. The darkspawn tainted the land. The dwarves would never dream. Solas awoke to the worst possible fate; in his eyes, it was all his fault.

So when he kisses Lavellan in the Fade, impulsively, he isn’t kissing her there because it is less ‘real’ than if they kissed while she was awake, it makes it so much more real. He’s kissing her in the space where he is most himself. Where he can shed the body he was forced to build and trap himself within, the body of Pride. He is acting on the impulses of an enlivened Wisdom spirit that does not consider tomorrow, for the first time in a long time. It isn’t a long game with Lavellan, like so much of his life has been about always thinking to the future, always considering the outcome, machinating, scheming, the wiles and woes of every trickster god in mythology. It’s being in the moment with her that is all-consuming. It lowers his guard, leaves him vulnerable, and when she enquires about the Fade or spirits or histories, he gets to be useful as pure Wisdom again.

Lavellan challenging him when he first shows animosity or irritation towards the Dalish (a prideful act), and then him being taken aback when she explains that maybe the Dalish could be shown another way (making him consider her words, being given a morsel of wisdom back, reminding him of his old self), these are all small moments where Solas can begin to see springs of hope in the broken world. And that’s terrifying. It means he’s destroying not just himself, but the memory of Mythal and Arlathan too, all for the love of a woman who fell for an apostate.

The best, most genuine unmasking of Solas for me is during Wicked Hearts, when he’s tipsy on wine, has no inhibitions, and revels in the intrigue, the gossip, the dancing, the music (something we now know is important enough to have an entire music room in the Lighthouse), the sex! He is at his most relaxed, and then he asks Lavellan to dance, not caring about how it would look for the “Inquisitor’s serving man, Solas” to be intimate in a fucking Orlesian palace with the Herald of Andraste, right after stopping an assassination attempt! He finds comfort in the world of Thedas at that moment. Something he rarely shows so outright.

When he takes Lavellan to Crestwood to confess, I believe removing her vallaslin wasn’t entirely just for her, it wasn’t just to free her from slave markings or to simply reveal a form of a truth he wanted to tell her, it was to resolve himself of what his first purpose was supposed to be, what she distracted him from. Removing the vallaslin had been something he’d done for the slaves of Arlathan, it was what earned him the mantle of Dread Wolf. When he removes Lavellan’s vallaslin, he resets.

Thedas cannot allow Wisdom to truly exist without fear of corruption to Pride, Thedas the world he was responsible for shaping, literally the Maker of the Veil, and he falls for a woman Heralded as Andraste’s Chosen One, Mythal’s incarnation in the South. The irony. The cruel, cruel irony. The Inquisition is tied to his past, every Andrastian he meets, every Dalish person with vallaslin on their face, every slave or city elf. Tevinter worshiping the dragons that still have the essences of the Old Gods. His heart alone cannot withstand all of the punishing, gruelling, oppressive weight that is Thedas. Even for Lavellan. So he frames their romance as this tragic, short-lived tale that was beautiful but ultimately destined to end. He expects it to pass for her, she’s mortal after all. But he also leaves his heart with her, literally giving her power over the last uncorrupted part of himself. Think Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann at the end of World’s End, but metaphorically. He gives her his heart to safe keep as he goes on a journey that could corrupt a heart, turn it cold and bitter, destroy it.

Ar lasa mala revas. You are free.

He frees his heart.

Lets it go.

Twice!

So only once he is relinquished of his regrets, once Mythal does the same for him, only then is there “Nothing left except their love”. Because Lavellan still held his heart there was still something left after. Something beyond despair and regret and loss. He had given his heart to her to safekeep. And she did. Lavellan returns his heart to him when he is freed. What Mythal had to break so Solas could heal right again (like a bone), Lavellan casts a splint around so it can be set and heal properly. This is the difference between Mythal’s love and Lavellan’s. Both Mythal’s love and forgiveness broke him, but Lavellan’s love gives him the strength to Stand Tall one last time.

Solas, before Pride alone, as Wisdom (perhaps Solas always meant both Standing Tall and Wisdom, for Wisdom can grant one pride to stand tall for what they believe in), finds contentment with the rare and marvellous spirit that endured (his Vhenan). Wisdom endured because of humanity, something benevolence is beyond.

Bellanaris

When Lavellan offers to go with him, to continue on the dinanshiral that she already considers herself a part of, Solas is legitimately taken aback. His expression is soft yet full of disbelief and awe. He actually stops walking a few frames before Lavellan says this, as if hoping Lavellan would say something to him!

And then she basically proposes to him! “Bellanaris!” I absolutely adore the fact that Lavellan promises them eternity. A vow as sacred as a death right, as protected as an ancient, elvhen, undisturbed burial ground in the face of Orlesian colonialisation. They endured and now they will have an eternity. For once, we have an elvish tale that is not a curse, it is a love story with reunion at its core, where both elves reclaim something precious that was denied them.

Lastly, i am absolutely frothing at the mouth that Solas and Lavellan primarily speak in elvish! And even more feral at the fact Solas does not try to talk her out of joining him (because this sweet talker very well could!). He simply tells her where he is going is terrible. And she shuts that shit down immediately. No repeat of Trespasser. She's standing beside him, the South has all but fallen, whatever ties yet survive are strained, and she has fought the good fight for 8 years. I think the Inquisitor was about ready to leave Thedas behind.

The last decisions Solas makes are of his own volition. Entering the Fade for atonement. Stepping into the Fade with Lavellan (It was confirmed by Weekes that Lavellan’s presence in the Fade prison would fundamentally change it in a way we haven’t seen!). Thanking Rook for giving him one last shot at getting happiness. All his own!

This is the look of a man finally reunited with his wife! So much emotion in ONE frame. God! There’s never been a character like him. A love story like theirs! I’m so happy I got to see this ending. Full circle!

P.S. If you read this far, woah nelly! That’s crayyzeee, so here are some more great pieces: Why it was important for Lavellan to kneel for Solas as he knelt for her in Trespasser in the Solavellan ending [x], and here’s a great deep-dive on Solas as a spirit of Wisdom [x].

#dav #dav spoilers #solas #solas x lavellan #solavellan #mythal #datv spoilers #dragon age veilguard #veilguard spoilers #dragon age #dragon age veilguard spoilers #the dread wolf finally took her #his war has ended #their love may endure for eternity

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thepsychonyx · 3 months ago

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I want to speak about why the second part of the Best-True ending of Dragon Age Veilguard pierced me so deeply. The Flycam screenshots are from Aru/Elf botanist (YT linked at the bottom).

To set the tone, the music established the emotive themes of the scene. It speaks to the Lost Elf theme- however it is forever changed and lighter. This elf that was Lost for so many years is now Found. There is hope in the strings, there is redemption in each note. This also speaks to the specific codex from the lighthouse in Solas’ secret room. Not his office at the top of the building, extravagant, beautiful, overshadowing all others and looking down in godly benevolence - his private quarters on the main floor, where parts of his travel with the Inquisition surround him.

When Lavellan speaks to Solas, she is using a resolute voice, almost chastising him for thinking he has to do this alone. He has her, and she will keep reminding him.

*Edit: Please note she also speaks the common tongue in this instance.

Solas implores her to think of the dangers the journey he is going on will have, his head is down to show the residual shame and his plea for her safety. But also a part of him hopes. The reason all he says is that “there will be danger” is a statement of warning but not fully entreating her to stay. His heart has a pause, he is prioritising her safety and wants her aware of the dangers.

Note, that he also speaks in Elven in response to her, his first language and mother tongue. As a trilingual, one usually reverts to their more natural tongue during a heightened emotional situation - in this case, Solas' warning statement is also a subconcious plea for her to understand him and join him despite the danger. He will never push her further than she wants to go like he was pushed by Mythal.

This is the shot normally, the downward and side tilt are clear making the imploring effect of his words resonate further. Unlike before where he only looked at her for small spans of time his attention is fully focused since being absolved of his duty. After she responds that she will be with him, forever no matter what, he shifts. This is akin to when making vows “I stay with you in sickness and in death” but they are crossing the boundaries of mortality. This is “I stay with you in any plight, any condition, any reality. I commit my eternity to you”

Her response is an amalgamation of the following:

1) You are not alone in it emotionally and mentally as I am with you

2) Physically I am with you to endure it with you

3) Our joined manifestations will make it a better place quite literally, so the bleak darkness that could have encroached will not exist when we are together

This is also validated a bit by Trick Weekes QA:

She then states their love is eternal, and she chooses to walk on any path with him fully and wholly. A love that transcends time, mortal barriers, immortality, the different realms of existence. This combined with their standing pose as if at the altar of a wedding is the final part of her vows. Said in the same hallelujah pattern and in elven as he would speak - she commits to his language (mentally and emotionally) so he best will understand her declaration. (This is confirmed by @northgalis on Twitter).

This, in front of the witnesses who are the allies who helped them unite in their union, Rook and Morrigan whilst overseen by the Veil itself in the position of holiness. His blood is the bond they now share, the new blood magic in a way that ties them to a new fate of their own making. The veil that brought them together in the beginning of the journey they now tread into together.

Then they confirm their vows with a kiss, she pulls him in first, similarly to their first kiss in the fade and he reciprocates. Solas is weakened, hurting, feeling unworthy of the brightest soul in the universe but she chooses him and he finally submits to his desire and need for her. His duty now to himself, atonement and the woman who chose him with it all in mind.

Aru’s flycam footage also shows the kiss being deeper and him actively

After the kiss, he SMILES. The ending is now so much less bleak it is tender, it is soft it is comfort, it is peace.

A smiling glance. meeting at a crescendo; a shared moment of understanding;

Screenshot from Daoithe on Tumblr.

He then proceeds to thank Rook, for helping him see when he allowed himself to be so plagued by grief and guilt and not giving up on him as it could have turned to despair, revenge and anger, like all the other endings which I hate because they go against his very nature. The other endings spit in the face of his complexity the story keeps explicitly imploring you to see and have empathy. Solas is a spirit of wisdom, when guilt festers that wisdom manifests in the worst possible ways. And with no one to listen and read between the lines, the fate he is subjected too is far too unkind. But here, he not only is freed of his guilt but also, just as importantly and very implicitly, his fear of dying alone.

If you have played inquisition you will recall there is a moment near the climax of Here Lies the Abyss where Inquisitor and their chosen companions go into the Fade. Solas is easily one of the most fascinating and best companions to take with you as he from the onset has been a “Fade expert” and his lines throughout are intriguing and educational. During the quest you come across graves embodying the different characters biggest fears. And Solas? Dying alone. The god who went against everyone he knew for a better world, whose empathy only continued to hurt him and freed others with hopes to better the world is the most lonely man. And he is terrified and within himself brought low by his loneliness in his commitment to the path he feels he must take. This is why the next part transcends the scene.

After the kiss which confirmed their bond and pact - binding them together with love and empathy, wisdom and curiosity married - he thanks rook and looks back at Lavellan, his Vhenan. And it is a *micro second* shot that completely defeats me. His head held high, the concerned imploring tilt gone as he holds his chin higher in appreciation, respect and awe for the woman who chose him. The love of his life, his eternal companion. The only one to truly fully see him, respect him, and love him wholly. Who has forgiven him and chooses a path which only leads to him. He is honoured to be loved by her, and will work to be the better man he feels she deserves, but also beginning to accept that her love for him is in any form he takes. The one he prizes above all others, chose him, and he will never be alone - and that is everything.

Seeing completely, and being wholly seen.

This scene literally destroyed me in the best way. I am left hollow with love and adoration for this character and his relationship to his love Lavellan and no other romance will meet the threshold they have created for me. It is not Solavellan hell no longer, they have transcended to Solavellan heaven.

My playthrough video of the second half of the ending sequence.

Here is Arus Flycam YT video for reference:

Arus Flycam Lavellan POV of the True - Best ending

youtube

#Youtube #Solas #Solavellan #dragon age solas #solas dragon age #solas dread wolf #solas x inquisitor #lavellan #solas x female lavellan #Solavellan heaven

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wandrinstar-media · 1 month ago

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things I love about veilguard

Rook might just be my favorite dragon age player character. I love what a good friend they are. I love being this character, in all their iterations.

emmrich and manfred volkarin, just literally everything about them both

I can be nonbinary??? in favorite game series??? plus many other trans & queer characters along a realistic spectrum of ideologies and identities??? FUCK YEAH

factions brought back the feel of selecting an origin a little for me. I wish there had been more content related to each *but* I do really like what there is. I do feel this was done better here than in Inquisition.

Speaking of: my real gripe about Inquisition was just a lack of anything feeling unsettling or spooky or urgent in any way. For me, I learned that the horror elements of previous games were essential for it to really feel urgent, necessary, heroic, and like a Dragon Age game *to me*. imo, Veilguard brought spooky back, with everything from blighted D'Meta's Crossing to Zara Renata's bath to Isseya's haunted twisted grief and the griffon tomb etc etc etc - I really feel like this game didn't hide the creepy parts in the codex this time, and while nothing will ever quite make my skin crawl like Hespith's poetry in the dark blighted deep roads, this brings back an element I was surprised to find I really missed. And the 2.5-3 Big Bads (depending on how you view Solas ymmv) of this game are far more interesting and intense than Corypheus ever was.

I like finally getting to see parts of other countries we've only previously heard about, and I *love* that those areas are realistically somewhat different than the rumor and speculation about them in previous games and that each has grown in unique ways since their first codex snippets.

I like to see that most interactive NPCs are being less openly racist / otherwise bigoted in a Dragon Age game, and I don't really get the people who complain about *not* being called knife-ear or whatever every other minute. I feel that budding cultural shift has been building in game for a long time, we're in new areas, many of which do things differently, and it's well explained by the efforts of groups like the Shadow Dragons and Lucerni and all of our Wardens and Hawkes and Inquisitors and several of the companions shaping change in the world for in-game decades. It can be realistic for things to improve. I love how openly hopeful this game is, when made in such dark irl times. It inspires me to more action in reality.

I love that Bellara and Taash are both clearly neurodivergent in wildly different ways. I love that characters who read very clearly as autistic/ADHD/AuDHD are continuing to be included in spite of all the vitriol there was about Sera.

Lucanis being demi (and imo as a demisexual person myself, quite accurately portrayed as such) is lovely and his romance scenes are delightful whether with Rook or Neve.

I love the other relationships that begin when companions aren't romance by Rook (Taash/Harding, Neve/Lucanis, and Emmrich/Strife are all really cute and have great cutscenes and banter.

The faction based specializations are cool as fuck imo

This game gives me more of the found family vibe of earlier games, I missed that.

Davrin & Emmrich arguing about different Being A Dad Strategies

I've put in 275 hours and I'm still finding new content with each playthrough???

Vorgoth.

I'll probably add more but. yeah. good game.

#the veilguard spoilers #dav spoilers #dragon age spoilers #da4 spoilers #datv spoilers #veilguard spoilers #veilguard #datv #dragon age veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age #inquisition critical

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curawrites · 11 months ago

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Healing

Hiccup x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, no happy ending

Note: rewatched Race to the Edge and got obsessed and wanted to write angst 💚

Ever since the beginning you and Hiccup had been friends, best friends.

You had done everything together, you were the weird kids, the ones that never fit in, the ones that worked the forge during the nightly dragon attacks.

Being so close together had the adults in your life asking when the wedding would be. It had always made Hiccup chuckle uncomfortably while you stood beside him bashfully with pink ears.

You had really hoped that would be your future. It was childish to think but you were only a teen who thought things would never change.

Inevitably things did change. It happened so fast, one night you and Hiccup were handling the forge together as usual and then suddenly he was training to fight dragons.

You watched him get consumed with his training and whatever he was doing in the woods. You were completely unaware of the injured nightfury your best friend was training.

You were shocked when it was revealed that Hiccup had tamed such a dragon and that he knew where the dragon nest was.

Watching him get disowned hurt, you knew how much he wanted to prove himself to his father. You wanted to go after him, to comfort him like you had always done but you couldn’t and you knew you shouldn’t when Astrid was by his side. You knew how much the boy liked her, and even though it hurt you, you let them have their moment.

You watched as Hiccup had more moments with the other teens, helping them train the dragons, bonding with them. You were glad that he was finally fitting in.

His happiness brought you joy and at that age that’s all that mattered to you even if it meant being left behind.

You hadn’t been there to watch him become a hero but when the tribe came back you felt it. All of Berk was talking about his and Toothless’s sacrifice. In that moment you felt even more admiration for the boy.

You tried to be by Hiccup’s side when he was out, but it was difficult trying to squeeze in some time when five others also wanted to see him.

You felt a shift as soon as he woke up. When he was surrounded by the residents of Berk. When Astrid gave him a kiss and his gang rejoiced over his recovery.

You knew then that he would never be the same, he was no longer you Hiccup.

As the years passed you sunk into the shadows, watching Hiccup live his best life with his friends, riding dragons, going on adventures and exploring.

You yearned to be apart of them, for Hiccup to talk to you again, and help you train a dragon and bring you into the gang. But it never happened, he was to consumed with his new life to notice who he left behind.

When he left for the edge at 18 that’s when you realized your prior friendship was never going to be rekindled. The reality hit you hard, it was jarring. It made you truly process the grief of losing your best friend.

It made your spiral into a dark place, a void of black tar that wouldn’t let you go no matter how hard you tried to claw your way out. Eventually you let the tar consume you, let yourself believe in all of the horrible things you thought about yourself.

Months were spent rotting in your hut, crying, refusing to look at yourself in a mirror, and sleeping all day.

Once the sadness faded away all you felt was rage. How could he just forget you? You had been by his side for 15 years for Thor’s sake! How dare he abandon you to be with the “cool” kids!

Your rage fuelled you to better yourself out of spite. So you began training, releasing all of the anger and hurt with every strike of your sword against your opponent’s.

You learned a lot about yourself during that period of time. You couldn’t handle an axe or a bow but you were sure damn good with a spear and swords, you learned to be resilient and strong, you gained more intellect and strategy. It rebuilt a lot of your confidence and your self esteem.

After a while you began getting bored, you had fought pretty much everyone you could on Berk and you felt caged, you didn’t like being confined to the small island anymore.

So you left. By boat. In the opposite direction Hiccup had left for the edge, and began exploring.

You knew that at some point you would need your own dragon if you wanted to continue exploring, travelling by boat was becoming very inconvenient.

An opportunity came up a couple of months into your exploration journey. A particular village had kept being pestered and ransacked by a rowdy monstrous nightmare.

So you agreed to help the village get rid of it by trying to train it. How hard could it be right? Just throw some fish at it and put your hand out and bam! Tamed dragon!

Oh how wrong you were. The process was rough to say the least, the monstrous nightmare had refused the fish and smacked you out of its sight. So you tried to gradually invade it personal space, and it worked for a few days. Until you pushed your luck and tried to rush the process, earning you a deep long gash, starting at your mid thigh up to a four inches under your arm.

The wound was gushing blood, and you were losing your consciousness fast. You thought this was the end, it was honestly humiliating. You inhaled what you thought was your last breath and closed your eyes.

Eventually you woke up to a blinding light. Was this Valhalla? As your vision cleared you recognized the inside of the village’s huts and sighed. You were glad you were alive, as you sat up you hissed in pain. You shut your eyes tightly and clutched your bandaged side as you inhaled and exhaled deeply.

Suddenly you were nudged to lay back down. You opened your eyes, expecting to see one of the villagers but you were met with the guilty face of the monstrous nightmare.

It was a very inconvenient way to train a dragon but hey you managed. Now you had a very rowdy, loving and protective, royal blue monstrous nightmare by your side.

You named her Azule and as a repayment for your stay with the village healer you have the village your boat. Not like you really needed it anymore.

With that you resumed exploring and helping villages out with dragon problems. Thankfully these went much more successfully than the first.

While you weren’t fighting dragon hunters like some people, you still made some friends and acquaintances, and more importantly you had fun.

You felt alive again. Soaring the sky’s and camping out with your new companion brought you a new kind of happiness and fulfillment.

As fun as it was eventually it was time to return to Berk. You had spent a wonderful year where you had grown and gained new experiences and knowledge. You learned to overcome hard times, how to build relationships, how to work with others, and most importantly you learned how to be content with yourself.

You had left Berk as a hurt, reckless, immature girl but you returned as a healed and mature woman.

After being gone for so long, you knew your hut needed some much needed fixing. You didn’t want your home to remind you of your dark times, you wanted a fresh slate.

You got rid of practically everything and got new furniture.You made room for Azule, giving her, her own bed and little space in your hut. You repaired what needed to be fixed after a year of neglect and added some add ons as well. Outside you added a clothes line, a hammock, a sitting area, and a feeding station for Azule.

You decorated your home with tapestries, crystals and other knickknacks you got on your adventures. You transformed your space into the ultimate comfort.

You were finally content. Even a little happy. You had moved on, and felt like you were finally on the right path.

Hiccup and his friends eventually came back from the edge.

You had lived your separate lives and you continued to, your paths never crossing again.

#httyd x reader #hiccup x reader #hiccup haddock x reader #angst #how to train your dragon #httyd hiccup #httyd fanfiction

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thechosenof · 2 months ago

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Ma Halani

A/N This was inspired by *this* post! Thank you for the gorgeous idea, @nerdee-blondee and I really hope I was able to bring it to life somewhat to your vision! Also!! Happy Dragon Age day!

Warnings: Rook under the effects of an aphrodisiac, P in V, fingering, hate fucking into soft into hate again? Not sure if there's anything else to add so let me know if so!

Edit: Pt. 2 up now!!

Rook spun on her heel, yanking Mythal’s blade free from the chest of the Venatori on the ground in front of her. Her breath was ragged, and arms trembled in overexertion from the onslaught of murderous blood mages that seemed never-ending. She barely had time to register the next threat that seemed to appear seemingly from nowhere. His sword jabbed at her clumsily while Rook stumbled back, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

“Rook! To your right!” Lucanis’s voice rang out from behind, sharp and urgent.

She twisted her head quickly, just in time to catch sight of another Venatori hurling a bottle in her direction. She caught a glimpse of a pink liquid inside before it shattered at her feet. Smoke engulfed her instantly, thick and foggy, making it impossible for her to see anything. The smell was sweet, sickenly so, and she coughed violently, trying to keep her guard up in case of an ambush.

Rook stumbled blindly, her arms flailing as she tried to shoo the smoke away. Her sight was useless, only able to see the pink smoke around her, she had to rely on sound. She heard her teammates panicking and she rushed forward, using Neve’s shouting as a guide out of the haze, but for some reason, her voice only became fainter the closer she thought she was.

“Neve!” She staggered forward, ignoring the way that her body started to feel hot and uncomfortable, fighting both the fog in front of her, and the fog beginning to cloud her mind. Just as she found the end to the murky cloud around her, she gasped.

“Fuck!” She yelled, looking around at where she had ended up. If anything was a clear indication, it would be the all-consuming gray around her. Suddenly, she felt dizzy and feverish, an ache between her thighs. Rook stumbled forward and unconsciously rubbed her legs together to try and create friction. Once she realized what she was doing, she jerked herself back into reality.

Even in her haze, and apparently arousal, she felt dread sink into her bones. The world around her was deathly silent, a muted expanse of gray with random wisps floating around her curiously. Shadows flickered in the corners of her eyes, shifting and warping as though they were alive. They could be. Those things she thinks are only shadows could actually be demons, since she’s in the Fade.

“Fuck.” She cemented her last word again as the realization settled over her. She got to her feet, unsteady from the effects of the potion. She slightly panted and frowned at her current predicament. Rook moved forward, her breathing quickening as the ache deepened, spreading a tingling sensation all throughout her body, making her clothing uncomfortably tight.

Continuing to wander around, she could feel herself becoming more and more aroused. Quicker than she anticipated, it started to become painful. She hissed at any little friction caused to her body, and she was tempted to strip herself of her clothes then and there. However, she pushed forward into the expanse of darkness, trying to be conscious of any demons that may appear while she was so vulnerable. For some reason, the wisps stayed around her. They flittered and sparkled, and one seemed to be what was leading her forward.

Rook clenched her fists, her nails tearing into the flesh of her palms as she fought to keep herself under control. Her body was betraying her.

“Where- where are you leading me?” She asked the wisp, her brows furrowed in concentration. It simply sparkled in a response and she groaned, but followed it, nonetheless, desperate for any way to escape.

A growl sounded from behind her and she halted mid step, making her stumble forward. Whipping around she sees a demon approaching her, obviously enticed by her clear desperation and arousal.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Rook chanted, her voice trembling as her body betrayed her. Her legs wobbled beneath her, the potion’s effects crashing into her. The once-reliable strength of her limbs melted into nothing, and she collapsed to her knees.

She could do nothing besides watch helplessly as the demon approached her. Each step it took towards her felt like a bell tolling in her head, a countdown to her demise. Tears burned in her eyes, her frustration and fear mingling as she gasped for breath. Her chest tightened, and a sob escaped her lips. After all she has done, and everything she has left to do, this is how it ends? While she is horny and weak, unable to protect herself from one demon?

Just as she felt hope leaving her and despair threatening to consume her, a sharp crackle of magic pulled her back to the moment. Light erupted behind her, washing the demon in a searing flash. It shrieked, its form unraveling into nothingness.

Rook blinked, the tears trickling down her flushed cheeks as she struggled to process what had happened. She turned her head as far as her weakened body would allow, her movements sluggish. The sight she took in didn’t make her any more relieved.

Well-worn boots and long legs clad in a familiar fabric, just inches from her face. She forced her head to tilt back, looking for the face she hoped she wouldn’t find. But of course, when everything goes wrong, things can only get worse.

Solas stood behind her, his expression was a mix of confusion and irritation as he looked down at her. His proximity sent a shock through her core and she bit her lip to hold back a moan. Humiliation coursed through her, especially as she couldn’t stop herself from smelling him. Her breath hitched and she let out a sigh she didn’t realize she had been holding.

“Great,” she muttered, turning her head around to relax her strained neck.

“This is just great.” Her words dripped with sarcasm, her voice even more biting than normal to make up for her current weakness. Solas’s piercing gaze remained steady, though his brow furrowed slightly.

“You are fortunate that I arrived when I did. You should be thanking me.” Rook barked out a bitter laugh, but it quickly twisted into a wince as the fabric of her clothes rubbed against her sensitive skin. She tried to push herself up so they would be on semi-even ground, but her body refused to obey. Her arms trembled before she collapsed back to the ground, letting out a grunt of frustration.

“You’d just love that wouldn’t you?” She spat through clenched teeth.

“Getting praised for playing the hero for once.” Rook panted, fighting the urge to push him down and satiate herself of her need. Solas took tentative steps around her, not reacting to her jab. Once she could see his face again, irritation flooded her at his nonchalance in this situation. He crouched down, elbows resting on his knees as he took in her vulnerable form.

His eyes took in the sweat on her forehead and he reached forward, his right hand pressing lightly to her flushed skin. Rook flinched but leaned into his hand for just a moment, nearly whimpering at the comfort of his cool hand. Solas’s eyes widened as he watched her sigh in relief. He pulled his hand away and her eyes shot open, realizing what she had done.

“How are you here? What happened?” Solas asked her after clearing his throat.

“The Venatori attacked us in Dock Town. One of them threw some potion at me, I tried to get out of it, and then I found myself here. I don’t know what it was but that potion made me-” She stopped herself, too embarrassed to continue.

Solas’s eyes narrowed slightly as he took in her appearance, his gaze flickering over her. The woman before him that was normally so stubborn and infuriating was now crumpled on the ground, her clothes disheveled, skin flushed, and embarrassed. When she cut herself off, she could see the realization dawn on his face and she scowled in shame.

“I see,” He murmured, his voice low and contemplative. Solas shifted his weight, sitting down in front of her to try and lessen her unease for just this moment. He leaned back against his hands, his gaze never leaving her as she panted and shifted uncomfortably.

“A rather crude tactic to get rid of you. You must be pestering them rather skillfully.”

Rook shot a deadly glare at him, and he couldn’t stop the smirk that pulled at his lips. However, as she hissed in pain and writhed on the ground, his eyes did soften slightly.

“They more than likely expected the demons to ravish you in this state.” He theorized more to himself than her. His tone was detached, as if this wasn’t a very real issue currently plaguing the woman before him.

“So how do I get out? And stop feeling like I’m not in control of myself?” Rook snapped, understandably annoyed. A quick flash of concern flickered across his features, clearly, he didn’t enjoy this situation either.

“I am not sure how you will leave, if I knew, I would not be in here either.” He reminded her of his own predicament of being locked away.

“As for regaining control over yourself,” Solas continued. His eyes hardened and he looked uncomfortable.

“You need to… relieve yourself of this ailment.” He finished, looking off to the side. Rook blinked at him, scoffing at the suggestion. He turned back to her with his own scowl, neither of them happy about this.

“You expect me,” She points to herself.

“To masturbate,” She points between her legs.

“Here? In the open Fade where demons lurk?” She gestures to the vastness around them, her eyes never leaving his, waiting for a response. He sighs, running a hand over his face. They had never had a conversation this long, nor would they have ever willingly had a conversation like this in any other scenario. His patience was wearing thin.

Then Rook doubled over, holding her stomach, her eyebrows knitted together as she grunted in pain. Her breathing was labored as she tried to breath through it, her legs shaking from the intensity. Solas looked at her, looked around them, then looked back at her.

“We do not have much time. I do not know the exact concoction, but it has to be similar to other aphrodisiacs and their outcomes are never the most appealing.” Rook heard him say faintly through her concentration. She peered up at him just in time to see his arms reaching forward. She fell backwards, landing on her back as she tried to evade his hands. Solas sighed and internally groaned at the pest in front of him.

“Rook, unless you want the demons to take advantage of you, you need to accept my help.” His voice reasoned with her, trying to convince her to let him help her. She bared her teeth at him in a snarl.

“No way. Don’t touch me, Baldy.” She poked fun of him, stealing Davrin’s nickname for the god-like man in front of her.

Solas's jaw ticked, his patience wearing thinner by the moment as he rubbed his temples with a weary sigh. The situation was absurd, uncomfortable for both of them. His initial composure was faltering under the weight of Rook's defiance and the severity of her condition.

“Your stubbornness is impressive, as always,” he said mockingly, his tone sharp.

“But it will not serve you well right now. The longer that you resist, the more vulnerable you become to the potion and the demons that prowl the Fade.”

Rook glared up at him, her breathing labored and her thighs clenched together tightly. She was unrelenting in her stubbornness and pride, unable to see just how dire the situation was becoming as more demons began growling in the not-so-far distance from the duo.

“Infuriating woman,” Solas muttered under his breath, glaring down at her. He shifted closer despite her flinch, his movements deliberate but not aggressive.

“Do you honestly think I want to involve myself in this? If the situation were not dire, I would leave you to your pride and its consequences.”

Rook squirmed on the ground as another wave of pain shot through her entire body, a guttural groan escaping her as the potion’s effects surged through her body, leaving her trembling and gasping for air. The intensity of it brought tears to her eyes, and her hands balled into fists at her sides.

“Whatever you may think of me, I am trying to ensure your survival so you can go back to Thedas in one piece.” His arms wrapped around her, one under her knees and another on her back. She hissed at the coolness of his armor on her skin, and even more so the way that it felt to be touched.

Rook let out a whine and pressed herself closer to him, mentally screaming at herself for how she’s acting. She glared up at him from his grasp, but he kept his head held high, not sparing a glance to her as he fade-stepped to a calmer area, one not so inhabited by demons. Rook gasped as in a split second they were one place, only to land in another with only a step.

Here, it was calm, almost like a field, but its colors muted. Solas kneeled down on one knee, placing her down as gently as he could muster of himself towards this woman. He looked down at her, the way her hair framed her face, a few strands sticking to her flushed forehead. Her chest rose and fell rapidly and her eyes were clenched tightly shut.

“Rook,” He spoke gently, pressing his hand to her cheek, trying to cool her down even a little. Her eyes cracked open to look at him desperately, needily. She felt his hand slide down to her neck, then down to her arm. A shiver ran down her back.

“No.” Her voice was hoarse.

“Rook,” He repeated again, pulling her to sit up. She groaned. Rook looked at him, and even though she knew she disliked this man with her entire being, she also knew that she needed his help. She was just beyond irritated that she would have to ask him of all people for it.

“Please,” She bit her lip harshly, trying not to tell him to fuck off and let her die. Another wave of pain, groaning in agony, she looked at him through tears of anger and pain.

“Ma halani, Solas.” Rook whispered.

Slowly, Solas’s hands made their way to the bottom of her shirt, pulling it from her tense body with ease. The air was biting against her skin and Rook couldn’t help but to shiver. Solas’s hands made their way to her shoulders, gently pushing her back so she would be laying flat on the ground. The cool grass tickled her back, the scent of damp earth filling her nostrils while his hands settled at her hips, tugging her pants off. All the while, Rook refused to take her eyes off of him, half expecting him to stand and laugh at her, to walk away and leave her to her own devices, but he didn’t. Instead, he knelt between her legs, pushing them open gently, his cool hands a stark contrast to her feverish thighs. Solas leaned down, an arm coming to rest beside her head as they stared at each other silently, waiting for the other to back away.

After a moment, Solas spared a glance down at her body beneath him, his free hand ghosting over her skin, pausing over her covered breasts to grasp at them experimentally. The touch elicited a gasp from the woman, and she turned her head to the side in embarrassment. Solas chuckled, a low rumble from deep in his chest, as he continued to squeeze her breasts, his violet eyes never looking away from her face. He rather enjoyed this sight, the normally headstrong woman now reduced to a whimpering mess under him. Rook glared at him from the corner of her eyes after hearing his laugh, opening her mouth to throw more jabs at him, but the words died on her tongue as his mouth covered hers quickly.

Solas tasted sweet, like honey and lavender cream. However, the kiss itself was anything but sweet. Months on months of pent-up tension finally being released all at once left little kindness between them, but Rook liked it. His tongue bullied its way past her already parted lips, but her own met his with equal fervor. Their desperate hunger was one in the same; his hands tightened on her waist as their tongues tangled, teeth grazing, a battle for dominance that both refused to give into.

She arched into him, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer in a desperate plea for more. Solas grunted, his knees shifting to push her legs further apart. His hand left her breasts, trailing down to caress across her stomach. Rook lifted her hips instinctively, desperately needing friction. He smirked against her lips, finally pressing his palm against the dampness between her legs. An unrestrained moan escaped her lips as she writhed beneath him, grinding her hips against his palm rhythmically.

Solas pulled away from the kiss, and Rook didn’t miss the way they looked plump and bruised. He watched her for a moment, the way she ground herself against him so primally and he could feel his own arousal growing. She panted, drawing in shaky breaths before her hands moved to the bottom of his tunic, tugging at the hem. He pushed himself off the ground, still kneeling between her thighs. For a brief moment, Rook regretted her decision as he took his hand away from her clothed heat to lift his shirt over his head. A low whine came from her as soon as she was able to see his lean muscles, and Solas took pride in her reaction, a smug expression plastering itself to his face.

“Enjoying yourself?” He murmured, his voice low and laced with mockery as he resumed his position caging her in under him. The annoyance that filled her eyes only worked to fuel his amusement.

“Shut up, Dread Wolf.” She muttered, continuing to try and grind against him, but refusing to be reduced to passive compliance. He glowered down at her, but not with malicious intent, more so fascination. Either way, his hands moved swiftly to the soft fabric of her breast band, pulling it down and letting her tits fall free. Without any hesitation, he pinched one of her nipples; the sharp suddenness of it drew a cry from her lips, her back arching from the ground.

“Do not test my patience,” He growled before latching his mouth around her other pebble, sucking it harshly between his lips. Rook’s clammy hands found purchase on Solas’ shoulders, nails digging into his pale skin and leaving behind her marks. The cry she had let out earlier was now a series of strangled gasps, desperate whimpers, animalistic pleas under his touch.

She hated how she was reacting to him, the man who was trying to destroy the world, the world she was now forced into having to save which is what had prompted this whole turnout of events. Her frustration was clearly felt, even as his teeth nipped at her nipples, fingers pinching and grabbing her tits without hesitation. It made her hot. With anger and desire towards this man, her hips bucked, grinding against his hand. It was almost pathetic, her attempt to alleviate the building pressure within her. It felt like she was being torn apart by her conflicted feelings. It wasn’t just pleasure; it was a burning, all-consuming, frantic, desperate need fueled by the drug, but led by her own simmering hatred towards the man who now held her so completely under his power.

Solas saw the rage behind her eyes, and his grip on on her breast moved to grasp at her hip, tightening until there would surely be bruises. He didn’t hold her with tenderness, but with a deliberate feeling of control, something he hadn’t felt sense Rook had locked him in this prison. He pulled away from her breast with an audible pop, only to shoot a venomous smirk down at her. His hand moved back between her thighs, pulling her underwear to the side, and thumb immediately landing on her clit. She arched, taking in a sharp intake of air, and he laughed at her. He savored her reaction, the way her legs shook, her teeth worrying her bottom lip, the way she twisted and turned trying to find the most pleasure she could. Solas reveled in her vulnerability; the way that she fell apart so beautifully in his hands, her destroyed pride only egging on his own.

“Pathetic,” he whispered harshly in her ear with a gravelly voice, a stark contrast to her heavy panting and moaning.

“All that bluster and bristling,” His fingers moved in a quick harsh circle on her swollen bud.

“And for what?” Tears welled in Rook’s eyes from her burning frustration, and he laughed, antagonizing her. She couldn’t help but tighten around nothing, making her groan. She wanted to curse him, to make him remember just who had trapped him in a prison of his own regret, but as his thumb worked faster, all she could think about was chasing the high that she needed to release. He leaned to her pointed ear, biting it lightly and eliciting a new sound from her. He wondered just how many he could pull from her mouth that was now blessing him, rather than cursing him like usual.

Not stopping the way his thumb quickened on her clit, two of his fingers slid down to find her entrance, slowly sinking into her. Rook moaned, her nails tearing into his shoulders as she tried to ground herself in some way, to anchor her inner turmoil. His fingers moved inside of her, thumb rubbing circles, both getting faster and harsher as he nipped and licked at her ear. He whispered to her, his words a honeyed mockery,

“You look quite beautiful like this. So obedient and wanting my help.” The words were a clear and obvious provocation. A calculated attempt to reel himself in as his own need threatened to overwhelm him while his fingers continued to thrust into her sopping heat.

“Such a fierce spirit, reduced to this.” He hissed, pressing fiery kisses to her chest, mouth once again finding her nipple. Solas continued, his fingers moving inside her with a rhythm that was brutal and precise, simultaneously bringing her pleasure and torment. His thumb remained on her clit, relentlessly pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Each thrust was deliberate, his predatory gaze taking Rook in in all her glory, his body a cage around hers. He was a puppeteer, and she, his unknowing marionette seeking oblivion as he fucked her on his fingers.

Her breath hitched in ragged gasps, tears streamed down her cheeks, mingling with the sweat on her skin. She hated him, despised him, yet her body responded to his touch with an intensity the defied her morals. The hands that were covered in his friends blood fucked into her deliciously, blurring her feelings of hate with lust.

He taunted her, his breath burning against her skin. He whispered words that taunted her, flaming the fire as his fingers thrust deeper inside her. Solas’s tongue traced the curve of her earlobe before his lips pressed against her skin. He felt her walls flutter around him, and he pulled back to watch her come undone.

The orgasm hit her violently, an explosion of pleasure left her gasping for breath as though she had just finished the war. Her body arched once more, chest pressing to Solas’s. Her nails trailed from his shoulders down his back, leaving red scratches where she traced. Rook’s eyes squeezed shut, her mouth falling open as a sinful moan fell from her parted lips. Everything faded into pleasure, she felt no hatred, or worry for just a moment as she convulsed in the aftershocks of her climax.

For a moment, they both stayed like that, her panting and his fingers still inside her, his lips pressing soft and slow to her neck, a vast opposition to how he had just been. Then, the heat was back and her eyes flew open, glaring at him in accusation.

“You- you said it would help!” She exclaimed, pushing him off of her, his fingers falling out of her leaving her empty and furious. Immediately, she became furious. Solas fell back on his ass, barely having time to catch himself as he stared at her. He frowned.

“It seems that was not enough.” Was all he added, his words not offering her any consolation. She got on her knees, looking for something, anything, to throw at him. His eyes watched her, naked and angry, sweat coating her skin from their previous actions.

“So, you lied. Again.” She accused, moving closer and poking a finger to his chest. The poke turned to hitting, which in turn led to her fists curled as she hurled insult after insult at him. She was embarrassed, and ashamed, that she had allowed him to touch her like that for nothing. His hands wrapped around her wrists, halting her onslaught of hits. She snarled at him, tears brimming her eyes, which only fueled her anger. She felt like a crybaby, tearing up anytime she got too frustrated, making others think she was weak, but Solas just looked at her and waited for her to calm down.

She stopped trying to free her wrists after a moment, letting her head fall to her chest. Rook gritted her teeth, forcing herself to take deep breaths before looking at him. The fire still burned hot in her stomach. Her eyes met his, and she didn’t see any smugness, only patience as though he was an adult handling a child having a tantrum. She pulled her wrists once more, and he let go, only for her to push him onto his back harshly before crawling atop him, her legs on either side of his waist, straddling his hips.

The air crackled with Rook’s fury, and their mutual arousal. She was still flushed and breathless above him, her eyes piercing into him. His gaze was equally unwavering, amusement glinting in the muted violets. Solas let his hands rest on her bare hips, squeezing them gently, teasingly, it vexed her to no end. Her own hands moved to the waistband of his pants, deliberately tracing the line of his belt. Her fingers made work of his buckle, it coming undone with a click. She tried to pull his pants down, grunting in frustration when they would only go so far. Solas chuckled,

“Do you require more of my assistance?” He lifted his hips, his hands pushing his pants down, freeing his strained cock. She hissed seeing his length, the tip red and angry leaking precum, though a glance at his face showed no shame.

“It seems like the same could be said of you.” She responded, placing her cunt atop his dick, letting her slick coat him. He scowled, hands landing on her hips once again to try and take control of her movements, but she stopped altogether, smirking down at him.

“I see why you like looking down on people now, the view is something.” His breath caught in his throat at her confidence. The way she sat on him, one hand resting on his chest, the other pushing some hair behind her ear. Her movements started again, slowly. He watched how her hips moved back and forth, her breasts swaying with the movements. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, eyes focused on his leaking cock.

Finally, her eyes met his, and she sneered at him, lifting her hips and grabbing hold of his cock, she lined it to her entrance. Rook whimpered as his cock head pushed into her slowly, and her hips continued to lower, inch by glorious inch her walls strained and fluttered around him. He hissed as she buried him to the hilt inside of her welcoming heat, his hands grasping her hips tightly. Without wasting even a moment, she lifted herself and slammed down on him, making him flinch at the feeling, and her cry out as his head kissed her cervix. She continued the slow, deliberate lift and fall of her hips, her ass meeting his hips with a satisfying smack each time. A hand remained on his chest for stability the other grabbing at her breast, her eyes never leaving his.

“Your arrogance- ngh- shall be your downfall.” She hissed from above, her tone biting at him. He stared at her, unable to answer as though her tight cunt wrapped around him was her hands around his throat.

“And I shall be the instrument to your ruin.” She promised, her speed picking up. Rook knew his ego was fragile, that he believed himself the only one capable of anything. She knew that he would fall, a glorious descent from godhood, and she would make sure she was the one to bring it about. Even with his cock stuffing her full, bruising her cervix, she was unwilling to relent in her distaste for the elvhen below her. His gaze hardened at her words, but he couldn’t help but notice how the dull sky seemed to brighten slightly with her bouncing on him. The raw frustration enthralled him, and she noticed the way his jaw clicked. She made him tick.

She knew that he was still in control, otherwise he would have pushed her off of him and fucked into her like a doll. Instead, even if he was irritated by her words, his hands still stayed on her hips to guide her movements. For right now, she would relish in the illusion of her dominance as she ground down on him, gasping raggedly.

Solas let one of his hands explore her body, a slow and deliberate caress that traced thighs, lingered on her stomach, and pinched playfully at her waist before settling on her back. The touch was oddly tender, but Rook had no thoughts to spare towards his foreign behavior. Suddenly, he sat upright, his movement swift while holding her securely by her back and hip to prevent her from falling. Her hips stalled, the rhythm abruptly stalled.

She glared at him fiercely. She tried to move, tried to regain the control she believed she had, but his hands held her in place as she squirmed in his lap. She was beyond done with this man and his twisted mind games, she just wanted this to be over with and to find some way back to her friends in Thedas, but this egg. The look he was giving her was deep, far more than he had ever offered her to see of him and it made her so inexplicably sad, even with their bare chests pressed together as they breathed the others' breaths.

“I fucking hate you.” She hissed. A flash of dark amusement crossed his features, not going unnoticed by Rook. He wasn’t going to admit, but she was driving him wild, she could feel it, and she loved that she held it over him.

Finally, his hand moved from her hip to rest on her ass, pulling her upwards before letting her plummet back onto him. He hit a new angle that made her cry out, throwing her head back. His lips found the pulse point on her neck, biting it followed by a tantalizing, lingering kiss. As he pulled away to look at the damage he had done, his pupils dilated seeing the mark that he left behind on her body. Solas reattached his mouth to her neck, leaving a trail of bruises in his wake as she kept engulfing his cock. Rook tried to fight the notion, but he had her exactly where he wanted her, clasped in his hands.

This was supposed to be messy, fast, hard; there was no need for softness between them, but the intimacy was undeniable. Solas stared at her, lost in the moment, drinking in the details he wouldn’t soon forget: her head tilted to the side, mouth open letting ragged breaths fall out, nipples hardened and dragging along his chest, her eyes fluttering open and closed with each sloppy slap of her skin on his. But mostly, he relished in the way her hands cradled his head, pulling him closer to her for just this one moment in time, a silent, desperate plea for him to give her more. It was agonizing and frustrating just how lovely this woman could look while falling apart for him.

His hand ghosted her cheek, her eyes jumping to meet his as his thumb traced her lips. He pushed his thumb past her parted lips, and she nipped at it. He chuckled, then moved his hand to trace the length of her pointed ear, then to the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair. He pulled her head to his, locking their mouths together. It was completely different from earlier, making her stop bouncing on him.

The kiss was sweet and gentle; it threw her off balance and for a moment her anger dissipated, replaced by confusion. She let herself get lost in the tender exploration, their tongues moving in tandem, control all but forgotten.

Then his hand on her ass lifted her again, letting her fall down onto his dick. The deep, slow kisses didn’t stop, even as both his hands found her hips, now taking the lead and guiding her up and down to a slow, steady pace.He felt her clench around him and it made his cock twitch. The kiss became disorientating, their breaths mingling, a mixture of sweat, arousal, and the lingering scent of the Fade around them. Then, her body stiffened and arched, her walls fluttering around him as she whined into his mouth. His hands wrapped around her waist, hugging her close to him while his hips thrusted upwards, groaning as hot ropes of his cum lined her insides.

They stayed like that, panting and connected, both not sure what they should do now. Their limbs were a tangled mess, the silence was heavy between them in the aftermath as both caught their bearings. Finally, Solas shifted slightly, unwrapping his arms from around her, his hands settling behind him. He looked at her, his gaze lingering on her flushed cheeks, the faint bruises he had left on her neck, then her eyes that refused to look at him. He cleared his throat, the sound breaking the silence.

“The potion,” He started, his voice still deep.

“The effects should be satisfied now.” His words were factual, detached, a stark contrast to how softly had had been kissing her just moments ago. Rook felt her irritation with him surge once more, but just scoffed to herself, throwing her head back at his audacity. She felt the familiar sting of tears pricking at her eyes, and she rubbed her face to try and make them disappear. In the moment of her confusion, she had let herself believe that this was something more than it was. That maybe, just maybe, he could be kind, and perhaps he even wanted it. Even if it was only a slight possibility, but his actions now slapped her back to reality. The fact that she had allowed this man, the Dread Wolf, god of trickery and lies, to see her so vulnerable? That she had needed his help, and he used it as a way to get inside of her head, to soften her heart towards him so she would let her guard down in the long run? It was the most bitter pill to swallow.

Rook refused to look at him as her trembling thighs lifted her once more, this time until she was standing and walking to her clothes. She dressed herself in silence, feeling his seed leak down her thigh. It felt like a branding, a reminder to how far he would go to accomplish his goals. She glared at the ground, arms crossed over her chest once she dressed herself.

Then, she turned to face where he now stood, dressed in only his pants, her gaze was cold and unwavering.

“You were so careful, so masterful. Using my moment of weakness, to gain a foothold, to try and soften me. It was brilliant, Solas. Truly brilliant.”

She placed her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowing.

“But you failed, you know?” A bitter laugh passed her swollen lips.

“All you have accomplished is proving how truly pathetic you are. Fucking a woman you hate, in hopes of what? That one day I would stand idly by as you tear apart the Veil?” She accused him. Rook walked to him, looking into his eyes.

“You are nothing more than your pride now. You let it eat at you until there was nothing left of what you could’ve been. Not a god, not a man. Your lover forgotten at a moment's notice, you killed your friends. You are truly alone now.” Then, she turned on her heel, a Fade tear opening in front of her. She didn’t spare a glance at the elf behind her, but he watched her. He watched, longingly, as her friends grabbed her arms and pulled her back to the real world.

#dragon age #dragon age rook #dragon age veilguard #solas #solas dragon age #solas x rook #veilguard #da4 #datv #solas smut #rook x solas #solrook #datv solas

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cottenbee · 6 months ago

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Seeing my former DR-self as the Hero of Ferelden while I’m currently the Inquisitor:

#can’t wait to meet myself #I’m very different from my Warden-self as my inquisitor-self #extreme precision vs bruteforce #woman are truly the backbone of this society #dragon age reality shifting #dragon age dr #reality shifting #cottenbeetalking #CottenBeeshifting #cottenbeesilly

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green-tea-in-absinthe-bottle · 6 months ago

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ENJOY THE SILENCE

Lazy mornings with honkai and genshin boys (fem!reader x Diluc, fem!reader x Dan Heng) a bit suggestive in Dan Heng's part GENERAL MASTERLIST

DILUC

Your lover, Diluc Ragnvindr was without a doubt hardworking and responsible man. Running biggest winery in the industry, protecting Mondstadt at nights and still working full-time job as a bartender, he gave you plenty reasons to be proud of him. Unfortunately, his lifestyle came with many downsides, sleep deprivation and shortage of free time he could spend with you being one of them, so when you found your handsome boyfriend lying next to you in bed, you couldn't stop yourself from admiring him, for once so peaceful, so relaxed. You felt like it was ages since he could sleep in like that.

His voluminous hair tickled your nose, he smelled both manly and sweetly at the same time, scent of cecilias he cultivated in his garden mixed with leather and smoke, reminder of dangerous activities he indulged in at night. You shifted closer to him, inhaling this familiar smell. His eyes opened, morning light enhanced golden tones in his hues. When he met your gaze it felt like all the warmth in them poured into your soul, lightening it up like sunlight itself, taking your breath away.

Diluc smiled at you lazily, leaning to kiss you. He tasted like promise of adventure, but his strong arms were like a safe harbor, grounding you and sheltering from all harm.

"I hope I didn't wake you up" you giggled. "You deserve a good rest for once Diluc."

"Don't worry, even if you did, I'd rather enjoy your company then sleep my love. Compared to reality with you every dream is dull." he whispered gently stroking your hair.

You laid your head down on his muscular chest, happy to cuddle your big, strong, loving man for the rest of the morning.

DAN HENG

Your beloved dragon came off as cold and emotionally detached to most people, his reserved nature forged in solitude he lived in for most of this lifetime successfully scared most people off. Yet, there was other side to him, born from isolation he suffered in Xianzhounian prison as well. Hunger for life and experiences he was devoid off for so long, overwhelming need to be free and feed his senses with all things this wast universe can offer, things he knew only from books.

Dan Heng was used to relying on himself, never given a chance to ask for too much or express his emotions freely, so when he was alone with you he tried his best to not seem needy, but it was obvious just how much he craved to be close to you.

He always kissed you a bit too greedily, as if it was the last time he can taste something so sweet, and he never pulled away first. When he caressed your body his fingers dug into your flesh, leaving marks on your fragile skin. Claiming you as his mate. He was touch-starved to the point of pain, skin to skin contact was so foreign to him it almost burned but he couldn't get enough. It was never enough.

Today you and your boyfriend woke up earlier than the rest of the crew. Before going back to your duties in the archieves you decided to take a quick shower together. Dan Heng looked stunning with water dripping down his perfect body, you couldn't take your eyes off his broad chest. He was more comfortable than usually, tracing marks on your skin with his fingertips.

Water washed away your mixed scent from your bodies when your hands massaged shampoo in his scalp. Dan Heng always made sure he does his share of work, both as Astral Express archivist and as your lover. It was a habit of his from time he first escaped from Xianzhou. He used to work for refuge and food in various places, justifying his existence with usefulness. Therefore you were not surprised when he returned the favor soon after you washed his hair.

" Why won't you let me spoil you sometimes?" you asked.

"You spoil me all the time." he calmly spoke up. "You give me all your love and help me become something more than a shadow of my past life by giving me another great reason to live here and now instead of dwelling on my nightmares. I merely return the favor."

Your cheeks flushed.

"I just don't want you to feel like you have to earn my kindness each time." you explained, biting your lip. His hands rubbing your head slowed down a bit.

"Don't worry about that. I like doing things for you, that's my way of showing that I care about you." he sighed. "You keep on telling me I need to learn how to receive affection, but aren't you the same as me?"

You didn't say anything back, instead you just let go and let his hands get lower to massage the knots out of your back, your muscles relaxing under his tender touch.

#honkai star rail #genshin impact #genshin x reader #honkai x reader #hsr dan heng #dan heng x reader #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #diluc x reader

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benniefranky · 25 days ago

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reintroduction to shiftblr ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

「 ✦ NICOLE ✦ 」

⭒ 25 ⭒

I am an somewhat active shifter, have shifted many times for 5 years now.

I am a mother and a father! I have kids in other places and a sweet partner here who is the most supportive human anywhere and everywhere ☾𖤓

18+ moots only please! i will not fb if you don’t have age in your bio

moodboard blog ᯓ★

scripting pinterest ⋆˚࿔

main pinterest ⋆˙⟡

desired reality info under the cut 𓇼🧉❀🐚𓆉︎ ࿔*:･ﾟ☾

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

KEY

✮⋆˙ I have shifted to this place

.ᐟ I haven’t shifted here yet

important!

every reality i go to is a university and above dr! i am an adult! that is true Everywhere i go! which means that when i shift i am surrounded by my peers! my age! don’t be weird <3

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ACTIVE REALTIES

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Scientist 「 ✦ Nexus Labs ✦ 」 ✮⋆˙

last shift - 4 months ago

current year - 2089

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PRIMARY REALITIES

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slightly inactive solely because i’ve only been focused on nexus and this reality for like 8 months oops

my baby my shayla these places mean everything to me

➤ Winx Club 「 ✦ Solaria ✦ 」 ✮⋆˙

➤ Casino Royale 「 ✦ Neocardia ✦ 」 ✮⋆˙

➤ Vampire Academy 「 ✦ St. Vladimir’s ✦ 」 ✮⋆˙

➤ Cyberpunk 2077 「 ✦ Night City ✦ 」 ✮⋆˙

➤ Once Upon a Time 「 ✦ Enchanted Forest ✦ 」 ✮⋆˙

➤ Gendonelune 「 ✦ Ephedia ✦ 」 ✮⋆˙

➤ Barbie 「 ✦ Fake Malibu ✦ 」 ✮⋆˙

➤ Star vs the Forces of Evil 「 ✦ Mewni ✦ 」 ✮⋆˙

➤ Streamer 「 ✦ Austin TX ✦ 」 ✮⋆˙

➤ South Park State University 「 ✦ South Park ✦ 」 .ᐟ

➤ Titans 「 ✦ Metropolis ✦ 」 ✮⋆˙

➤ Van Life 「 ✦ Victoria ✦ 」 ✮⋆˙

➤ American Ballet Co 「 ✦ New York City ✦ 」 ✮⋆˙

➤ Baseketball 「 ✦ Milwaukee ✦ 」 ✮⋆˙

➤ Celebrity Family 「 ✦ Los Angeles ✦ 」 ✮⋆˙

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆⭒˚｡⋆

special realities

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆⭒˚｡⋆

realities where it’s several things mashed together

all of these are a work in progress besides Gendonelune and Spooktropolis / i don’t know if i want to continue working on the script

“threw it at the wall and saw what stuck”

➤ Spooktropolis .ᐟ

Monster High/Monster Prom/Ever After High

➤ Class Act .ᐟ

The Next Step/Tiny Pretty Things/Dance Academy

➤ Eltarose .ᐟ

Gossip Girl/Dynasty/Pretty Little Liars

➤ Gendonelune ✮⋆˙

Wizardess Heart +/Lolirock

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆⭒˚｡⋆

secondary realities

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆⭒˚｡⋆

places i want to go to or have been to with a small or incomplete script / more on the back burner than i would like to admit

➤ Asolo Italy ✮⋆˙

➤ Voice Actor ✮⋆˙

➤ Actor .ᐟ

➤ Saviors ✮⋆˙

➤ Modern Royalty .ᐟ

➤ New Girl ✮⋆˙

➤ Trolls .ᐟ

➤ Jersey Shore ✮⋆˙

➤ How to Train your Dragon .ᐟ

➤ H2O .ᐟ

➤ Rise of the Pink Ladies .ᐟ

➤ Futurama ✮⋆˙

➤ Baldur’s Gate .ᐟ

➤ Beverly Hills 90210 .ᐟ

➤ The Hills .ᐟ

➤ Bridgerton .ᐟ

➤ Broadway ✮⋆˙

➤ Camp Halfblood .ᐟ

➤ The Clever Keg ✮⋆˙

➤ Miraculous ✮⋆˙

➤ Bob’s Burgers .ᐟ

there are a bunch of places i have ideas for but no plans and this isn’t even half of it

ok bye! ◡̈

#reality shifting #shifting #shifting community #shifting blog #shifting antis dni #shifting motivation #shifting diary #shiftblr #desired reality #anti shifters dni #dr scrapbook #dr scripting #Spotify #benniefranky #nickysdiner

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neve-rook-datv · 3 months ago

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The Trouble Within - Neve Gallus’ personal notes - Part 1

Disclaimer : This story is inspired by fan critiques and discussions regarding the romance dynamics in Dragon Age: The Veilguard, particularly around the evolution of Neve’s relationship with Rook. Many fans felt some frustration with Neve’s hesitance to fully engage in the romance with Rook, and her reserved demeanor. This piece explores why Neve seems to keep her distance despite the intensity of her feelings and reimagines her interactions with Lucanis, whose light-hearted flirtation serves here as a facade to mask her true emotions toward Rook.

Arlathan Forest is a place that almost feels alive—ancient, watchful. The trees arch overhead, their leaves filtering the light into hues of deep green, amber, and burnt red. The ground is blanketed with fallen leaves that shift in color as the sun moves, and the air is thick with the earthy scent of moss and damp wood. It’s hauntingly beautiful, yet there’s a weight to the silence here, as if the forest is holding its breath, waiting.

And then there’s her.

Rook moves ahead of me, weaving through the trees with an ease that feels almost unnatural, like she belongs here in a way I don’t. The dappled light catches on her face, illuminating her profile in vibrant, natural hues, casting shadows that shift across her skin as she steps in and out of patches of sunlight. I find myself watching the way the colors dance around her, highlighting the quiet strength in her posture, the relaxed yet sharp way she holds herself.

Something about the way she walks—confident, steady, each step deliberate yet unhurried—makes it impossible to look away. Hints of amber and evergreen seem to cling to her, as if the forest itself recognizes her presence, drawn to her as much as… well, as much as I am.

I don’t know when this pull began. At first, I told myself it was curiosity, a fleeting interest in her reckless nature, in the way she throws herself into danger without hesitation. But now, watching her in this light, the forest colors framing her like some figure from an ancient tale, I feel something deeper—something I dare not name.

She turns, catching my gaze, and there’s that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, her eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. “Something on your mind?” she teases, breaking the silence and pulling me back to reality.

I force a laugh, a quick, dismissive sound to mask the way my chest tightens. “Just keeping an eye out. No harm in staying vigilant.” But the truth is, I’m mesmerized. The word Trouble slips through my mind again, and it feels like a warning—to her, to me. She’s trouble in every way, and yet… I can’t bring myself to look away.

The deeper we move into the forest, the darker and richer the light becomes, casting Rook in a way that feels almost deliberate, as though the forest itself is revealing something hidden in her. There’s a quiet strength in her gaze, a softness I rarely see, and each time she steps into a beam of light, she seems to command the world around her without even trying. I don’t think she realizes the effect she has on me, the way her presence keeps me unsteady, questioning everything I thought I knew.

Calling her Trouble feels like my last line of defense, the only way I have left to protect myself. It’s a label that’s meant to keep her at arm’s length, to remind me not to get too close. But as that barrier slips, I feel something inside me begin to unravel, like a cord stretched too tight, finally giving way. I can’t stop myself from looking her way, each glance feeding a pull I don’t fully understand, one that unsettles and captivates me all at once. The way she moves, how the light wraps around her, draws me in deeper, makes her seem almost otherworldly, untouchable. And yet, in these moments, I feel closer to her than I’d ever let myself admit.

Lucanis keeps things light, and I remind myself that’s all I need. His flirtations are easy, harmless—a game that lets me forget the weight of everything else, if only for a moment. With him, there’s no need to dig deep or question anything; we can laugh, exchange glances, play at something that never asks for more. It’s uncomplicated, a distraction that feels almost safe in its simplicity.

But even as I tell myself that’s enough, I can’t help feeling a pull toward something beyond that ease, something that makes my heart race in a way Lucanis never could. And that’s when I feel her presence, like a quiet tension at the edges of my thoughts, impossible to ignore. And I… I am left to watch, caught between the fear of what this means and the thrill of simply being near her.

I wanted to keep things simple, to call her Trouble and pretend that’s all she is—a distraction, an annoyance. But standing here in the heart of Arlathan, surrounded by ancient colors and silent trees, I can feel my resolve slipping, the walls I’ve built crumbling with each glance, each step.

She doesn’t know, of course. How could she? She’s focused on the path ahead, oblivious to the chaos she’s causing in my mind. But as the reds and greens cast their final light on her face, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m losing this battle—that “Trouble” is no longer a warning, but a confession.

Edit: Wording, phrasing, flow.

#dragon age #fanfic #romance #neve gallus #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age rook #rook and neve #neve Gallus romance #datv #datv spoilers #datv rook #datv romance #datv fanfic #rook x neve #rook #datv neve

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amurderandconspiracy · 2 months ago

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Scents and Grief

(Brief scene with Lucanis)

****Dragon Age Veilguard spoilers AHEAD, read at your own peril ****

This scene is prompted by what was not shown of the companions during the Regret Prison. This scene is specific to Lucanis, a romanced Lucanis. My Rook is a nonbinary Crow!Mage!Rook but this scene does not necessarily give any descriptions of Rook, so you can inject your own into the scene if that helps you. This scene is emotional, so if you aren’t necessarily in a good mental space, please be gentle with yourself. There is no self-harm content but it does explore depression and emotional breaking.

Hope you enjoy.

>>>

The stone hallway pressed in, oppressively looming as if it would reflect and embody the raging void of turmoil inside and swallow him whole. He had been standing outside of this threshold for several minutes, not wanting to breach the perimeter and make reality come crashing back. Hesitation held him in place, not wanting to intrude when there was no one inside to grant permission.

That thought stuck and he tried to swallow his pained response. The emotional war and struggle to contain it, stirred his demon for a moment, but Spite was sulking in the recesses of his mind, having expended most of his energy attempting to break free from his friends and hunt down the Betrayer. Spite had raged and seized control of Lucanis almost immediately after Solas had emerged from the Fade; when Rook had not.

Spite hadn’t cared that their found-family was desperate to keep him alive. Neither man, nor demon cared that they could have died in the effort, but at least they would have done something, an attempt to avenge Rook and make Solas bleed for his treachery. Instead, his teammates and friends had turned from their own shock and sadness to restrain the murderous demon and his equally vengeful host and dragged them away from making good on their tirade of threats.

Lucanis shifted his feet, almost as if to avoid the series of memories that played out within his mind.

NOT GONE. That was all that Spite managed to say, the angry pleading in that short sentence spoke volumes.

Lucanis didn’t respond, he couldn’t. Either he had to cling to the hope of that statement, or he had to deny it and speak something into being he had not yet managed to say aloud.

The Lighthouse, perhaps making the decision easier for him, clicked and swung its wood and metal double doors open, exposing the room to his view. The light of the tank danced like specters on the walls in rippling currents, and his heart did a brief stutter as his mind recalled another nightmare from his memories, only to be overcome by the more ready and recent nightmare of Rook’s absence.

He had come to their room, searching for some small comfort, he only wanted to exist where they did, breathe the air that had filled their lungs or be touched by the currents that had caressed their skin. With an unsteady intake of breath, he stepped into the dark room that had served as their rest chamber, looking around for subtle hints that they had only stepped out for a moment. His eyes roamed all over the small displays of their presence and life, seeing their silver halla statue, poisoners kit, and metal looking mirror, but what caught his attention, what he had not expected to see, was a large drawing of wings hanging on the right side wall and an azure Crow mask on the table top below it. They had few belongings, but these were seemingly important enough to decorate their room with. He noted them because they were not simply a drawing and a mask. The artist’s impression was something he had mentioned, whilst in the marketplace with Rook, he had idly noted that the wings depicted did not appropriately illustrate those Spite has conjured. And the mask was familiar from a mission they had handled together. Together, before the gods had started their final gambit, and the cruel mistress, fortune, had turned her back on Rook.

A choked sob rose in his throat, and he realized how foolish he had been to ignore the signs or less than subtle hints of their affection. He had been afraid. Afraid to hope that they truly wanted him - an abomination, a monster. Terrified of the harm, he could do to someone he never wanted to hurt; his savior in more ways than one. He had even stopped their confession, fearing that with the words spoken, the last chance to avoid succumbing to this distracting flood of emotions was gone. And with the truth standing between them, he might not be focused enough. He might miss again because he wasn’t focused on the kill, on fulfilling his contract. He might lose them to that distraction.

Driven forth by an unseen force, or the compulsion of this despondency, he stepped further into the room, unable to care about the mission, unwilling to live in the reality that was so full of loss, guilt and regret, so painfully empty of Rook. Mindlessly, he gazed at the drawings of the wings, an artist’s study, and saw a recent addition to the piece, a soft sketch overlaying the crows wings inked in purple and extending the feathers features to look closer to the manifestation of wings that he and Spite used. He stopped breathing for a moment, seeing the careful detail of the added ink, as if the later artist had paid special attention to the differences between the original and the new subject.

SAW US. WATCHED US. THOUGHT. ABOUT. US. Spite whispered in a gravelly voice that sounded strained and unpracticed.

Lucanis knew he should respond, knew that Spite was also hurting. But he did not dare speak aloud just yet. Though since their agreement in the false Ossuary, they had conversed both in speech and by internal monologue; he could not speak.

Lucanis blinked several times, clearing the persistent collection of moisture from his eye-line, and walked toward the green chaise at the center of the room. There were no pillows or blankets upon the verdant green leather, nor in any visible space in the room. Lucanis knew they shared a predisposition for insomnia, but he knew Rook had managed to sleep some nights. He just wanted…he didn’t know exactly what he wanted…but the idea of laying down wrapped in Rook’s unique scent was all consuming. His eyes scanned the room before resting on the large wardrobe on the rear left side of the room. Surmising that the linens, or at least Rook’s favorite feathered blanket, would be there. As there were no other chests for storage in the room, he approached the wardrobe. Despite years of training and the practice gait of an assassin, Lucanis shuffled from the chaise to the cupboard, his feet leaden and his usual posture bent under the weight of denied happiness and suffused longing. Only slight resistance kept the doors of the wardrobe closed to him before acquiescing and opening, releasing from its depths a cloud of aroma unique to Rook.

CITRUS AND LAVENDER. ROOK. Spite inhaled deeply and pushed forward in Lucanis’ mind, not to assume control, but to partake of the fragrance and the comfort of its presence.

Lucanis leaned, shifting more toward the clothing and belongings in the wardrobe, and breathed deeply as if to inhale only the scent of Rook. He realized that while Spite’s senses were greater than his own, he had far more experience with the subtle difference of sources for smells, and he found that Rook did smell of a citrus, though it was more unique than that; the honey and citrus scent of neroli.

His mind and Spite’s held on that in the moment and consciousness dawned as he realized with some bitter comprehension that it wasn’t coincidence that his answer to Rook’s inquiry about the scent of first kisses would be honey and lavender cream. Why he had not discerned this before he could not say, but it seemed that his mind had given him hints of his affection, even then.

Something in that awareness was too much for his fragile hold on performative normalcy, and the wafer-thin veneer of control that had allowed him to carry on to this point snapped. The burden of his misery forced him down to his knees and he started to release his accumulated grief; stored inside since the Ossuary to now. Cruel pains ravaged him, and the usually collected assassin gave into the depression weighing on his body and mind. With the remaining strength he and Spite could muster, he pulled himself into the cradle of the wardrobe and wrapped their body in Rook’s shadow-colored feather blanket. They watched as the doors of this sanctuary softly closed, surrounded and engulfed by Rook’s scent as the heaviness on their eyes and mind pulled them away to hide from the waking nightmare of loss. Perhaps to find a hint of them in the dreams of the Fade or simply the respite of nothingness save their body cocooned by darkness and Rook.

#dragon age the veilguard #lucanis dellamorte #dragon age #rookanis #veilguard spoilers #this prompt ate at me #so now I am sharing it with you #writing #prompted scene #spite dragon age #spite dellamorte #scent and memory

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