#Mercar x Ashur

[mythalsknickers]

Happy Fridayyyy~ For DADWC: "where is your faith now?" for Rook x The Viper? 👀

Title: Matters of Faith Pairing: Athras Mercar x Viper Rating: M Warnings: Fantasy Racial Slurs, Fawn Response, Angst, Smut, HateEdging? Is it hatesex if they love eachother, bratting, religious tones, Edging, Public, Author doesn't know what this is anymore. Word Count: 1,644 Author's Note: Athras Mercar tends to bounce between He/ Them pronouns regularly, they are trans gender non conforming. They have had top surgery. Is this canon, IDK at this point come back later it might be. @dadrunkwriting Veilguard

The mud squelched between under their boots, the magic signs sizzled under the assault of the rain, oily with the feel of the magic and tasting like lyrium. In the darkness, the fog creeped along the mud. Wisps of blonde curls peaked out from the hood as they slipped out onto the market way. They looked over their shoulder, all night since they left the Legion barracks they had felt eyes on them and at times almost heard footsteps. Hazel eyes narrowed and the dived into a narrow alley making their way to an older temple of Dumat. They took the stairs two at a time, watching the wall for any other shadows cast aside from their own. Tiles clattered behind them...had their eyes slipped. They didn't spare a glance to the noise. The shadow that followed them had been graceless, had their tutor witnessed it, a soft chuckle slipped past their lips. Athras remembered the days of bruised ankles and knees from getting smacked. It might have been different for their peers but they could not afford a single mistake. Incense clung to the fog as they slipped past the heavy curtains of the temple.

Shedding the heavy cloak and the mud soaked boots, Athras quietly slipped a thin veil over their face, and replaced their boots with slippers before padding into the temple. It was one of the few places of Dumat not over taken by the Venatori. It was muscle memory, going through the rites as they paid their homage to the god of Silence. Bringing a cup of fragrant wine to their lips, eyes narrowing at the flash of red and teal, barely there in one of the alcoves. So that was the eyes who had slipped. Damned Fool. Closing their eyes as the dry liquid hit their lips.

"What do you do in the temple?" Athras should have know he would have come to snoop around after that question. Rising to their feet, they quietly headed back to the entry hall. Replacing their boots and the heavy cloak. The rustle of silks behind them did not go unnoticed, narrowing their eyes, the hood was pulled up and fingers wrapped around the hilt of a dagger. Inhaling the sweet smoke they started out of the temple, veering to the left, down another alley. It could have just been Ashur, but it could have also been Venatori and if it was...There was not a soul that would save him from the smugness of the Black Divine being right that going was a bad idea. Gritting their teeth they veered right, narrow alleys were never good but there was a ladder they froze. Venhedis, a hiss left their lips someone had decided to break it.

"What is a rattus siccari doing in the halls of Silence." Their hand tightened on the dagger. A slow exhale slipped past their lips as they turned around. "Where is your master Rattus!" fire churned just beneath the unnerving smile they had placed on their lips.

"Begging your most gracious apologies masters..." sickening sweet, feminine. It wasn't their voice but they needed balance the odds. Two that wore nothing identifying station or alliagance and two more that wore Venatori belts. "I-I got turned around in the crowds following my master." They continued, one of the group snickering.

"A she-elf under all of that!" the cackle set them on edge but it was the whispering, they tried to pick out the words, enough to know it was High Tevene, the stuff in the Chantry and the Cults. They needed to get out of this. "Come along Rattus, we will keep you safe until your master is found." Kaffas, they were fucked.

"Masters, please I do not wish to burden your most gracious selves." There was narrowed looks between the four before one came into their personal space, grabbing their chin. "Come Rattus. We will not ask again." The edge in that tone, chilled their blood, Silence and Fire fuck them. They nodded, and as the mage drew away, magic filled the air and time seemed to stagger. Their dagger drawing faster, while the other three mages seemed to slump to the ground at once. Their dagger connected into the mage that grabbed them. Grabbing his dagger, they took another breath.

"Athras!" The familiar bark carried a current of worry. If the magic had not been enough this proved it. Venhedis Venhedis, the worry in his voice was concerning. Sighing they tucked the blade into the sheath, taking a few steps back the ran towards the wall, left foot first dig into the side of the building. They scaled themselves up onto the roof, with a groan slipping past their lips. "I am fine." They weren't but that was not his problem. They laid on the cool tile for a moment until teal eyes met their own, even with the mask she could still see the worry, the concern, and the anger.

"Its fine Ashur, I am fine." they rolled away from him, standing with their back to him. The Venatori were not the whole of the Imperium, just a very loud and very angry portion of it. Exhaling slowly they let the moment spread between them, the air was still heavy with the magic of the Divine. "Let's get back before you missed Most Holy." They offered a smile gently shooing, back towards the Divine's Palace.

"You are not getting out of this Athras." it was hissed as they walked along the roof tops. They glanced at the taller man with a raised brow. "I am fine." this time there was a snort of disbelief followed by a muttered kaffas. It still surprised them when he cursed, it seemed heretical almost. The jump from the lower distracts into the gardens of the Highborn quarter was made with minimal protest. Yet once feet touched the polished marble. His mask and hat were off and the full weight of what had been brewing was there. "Athras." They took a breath, letting it out as a sigh. "Later Most Holy." They offered, the tension that could be worked out after they were done with his day.

They stood behind the dias, the night had droned on in a pattern of prayers, signing documents, incense, and more prayers. It was not bad, but their mind was still in the alley way, playing through the scene. Silk rustling, the scent of iron, clawed fingers hold their chin. Their heart started to race, blood filling the sounds around them. They remembered the last time they were opening called a slur they where a child. There was a few times through out the years but never so aggressively. His name was hissed, and clawed gloves tightened around his chin.

The sun had set, the crowds were gone. All that was left in the throne room was them. Golden eyes met teal, and a soft nervous giggle slipped from his lips. Letting Ashur sit all day with his worries, might have been a bad idea. "Athras. What the Maker's sake what were you thinking." His voice was too calm. "Well we found some Venatori." He quipped and the claws dug in as those teal eyes narrowed and his chin tipped down. Fu--

The thought was cut off as his mouth was claimed by the Divine, the kiss was bruising, hints of blistering heat from his magic. Teeth tugged on his lip, and a before he gave in he went to squirm out from under the man only to be met with one of his arms.

"Where were your gods Athras?" lips and words brushed against his ear, and his hand clenched against silk robes. The subtle shift in his tone, and Athras tipped his head with a bit of bravado. "The same place as the Maker, Most Holy." There was no warning before an arm wrapped around his waist lifting him up. Their eyes level, aside from the frustration there was still the worry.

"Damnit you are such a bitch." It was rumbled against his neck as Ashur found his pulse point, and his heart quickened, lips dragged across it. Claw adorned fingers pushed into the ornate court armor. The layers frustrated them both multiple times. His fingers tangled into Ashur's hair... not quite so short that he couldn't tug a little. His boots he kicked off, the clang of the metal against marble echoed as Ashur pulled a moan from his lips with claws and those burning kisses. Belts and swords came next, his hand pressed against the wall, digging in as Ashur continued to tease through his clothes, the barest amount of magic and those damn fucking claws.

"Give me a verse of Dumat, Athras..." For silence's sake he wasn't sure he could remember one. His eyes met Ashur's as his pants were being pulled off far too slow. He was serious.... "Vhendis Ashur..." His hiss was cut off with a pinch , claws finding his nipple through the damn cloth. Demanding Asshole. "T-tremble and do not deny the flesh..." He started a whimper trailing his words as Ashur's lips found his thigh. "Mhng...When you are shroud in secrets!" His voice squeaked as teeth bit into his thigh, a rumble of a laugh followed. His fingers dug the wall as he tried to remember the rest of the words. Ashur's lips had found his folds. His toes curled, damn man doing this to him. It was agonizing each nip, lick, claws digging into his thighs pulling little pinpricks. of blood. The sweetest of tortures, one hand digging into Ashur's shoulder. Legs trembled as the heat burned and then he stopped, pulling away licking his lips.

"If you can be a good boy..." a clawed finger held his chin "and show me where your faith is, Athras then I will let you cum."

[kanis-things]

these 'names' sound wrong

[proffbon]

Your ex-boyfriend 🤝 Your current boyfriend Roasting the shit out of your Batman act

[thebisexualmandalorian]

Cael whoops from where they’re sitting up on the table, grinning with eyes alight.  The celebratory mood of the holidays has only added to the celebratory mood of the defeat of the Blight and the mad gods and their dragons, and they’re right there at the center of it all.   They start up a line Tarquin distinctly recognizes as part of the Chant from the times his father had dragged him to services.  Ashur picks up after the first, both of them shouting more than singing, enthusiasm making up for the fact that they’re too drunk to carry a tune.

"All sins are forgiven! All crimes pardoned!

Let no soul harbor guilt!

Let no soul hunger for justice!

By the Maker's will I decree

Harmony in all things.

Let Balance be restored

And the world given eternal life."

The rest of the hideout takes up the song, repeating it in a cacophony of noise.  Magister Pavus cocks his head from beside Tarquin, and smiles in between sips of wine.  “That is what we were fighting for, isn’t it?” he asks, and Tarquin raises a brow.

“For the Divine to be shitfaced on cheap wine for everyone’s entertainment?”

“Always so cynical, you really should take a rest sometime,” Pavus says, “No, you know what I mean.  Freedom, justice, all that sort of thing.”

He does.  He’s spent so long fighting for it in the shadows that he still hasn’t quite accepted that it’s real.  They still have a lot of work; kaffas, they have so much work to do, but they won’t be fighting to the death for it against the Magisterium and every mabari-shit slaver from here to the South to get it done.  

Tarquin has never put much stock in hope, or faith, or the future; he’s known for being ruthlessly practical, or - Pavus might be right - cynical, but tonight?  He might be willing to put that down for a little while and believe.  He catches Ashur’s eyes and starts to sing along, grinning as he lets himself celebrate, just for tonight.  Why not?  The blighted gods are dead, the Venatori are scattered, the Magisterium is in chaos… it’s a good night to celebrate their wins, and maybe, just maybe, the future as well.

[therookandthecrow]

To be honest, I am not sure if Szeverin would be able to rebuild his relationships with Ashur and Tarquin after (late game, specifically after 'the dust has settled') he makes a certain pivotal decision pertaining to Minrathous. Honestly, he'd be fine with it, because he'd be in a committed relationship with Lucanis by that point, but the question will still linger, because I headcanon that a lot remained unresolved between the three of them. Further, I don't think that he'd feel a great deal of regret for what happened for a while.

In his mind, he always makes the right call. At least that's what he tells himself, just so that he doesn't drive himself mad with doubts. Outwardly, he's a very 'It is what it is.' kind of person who presents as being stoic and somewhat unfeeling. It's his way of escaping those hard kind of questions and moral dilemmas. 'If I don't think about this too much, I won't find something that hurts me.'. His cavalier attitude had got him as far as it did, but is it going to continue to serve him well?

For so long, he was accustomed to not letting feelings dictate his decisions, yet he did let them decide which city he was going to defend from the dragon's attack. He was developing strong romantic feelings for Lucanis Dellamorte already, and consciously or not, that was the deciding factor for Minrathous' fate. If he was someone who was willing to let his home city become ravaged by a dragon attack, is he really someone who can be trusted in a leadership position?

He's quite arrogant, to be frank, so he's not going to spend a great deal of time thinking over his past choices and their repercussions, because in his mind, he always makes the right call. For years, he had protected Minrathous' most vulnerable in the Shadow Dragons, yet, because of romantic feelings for one man, he was willing to turn his back on his home city. How could Ashur and Tarquin see him as nothing less than a traitor?

It's a lot to think about for a Shadow Dragon Rook romancing Lucanis. If Tarquin and Ashur don't forgive him, he'd not blame them, only after he gets indignantly angry at first for being called out for the fact. Not to mention how he disappointed Neve, who trusted him. Whoever thinks that romances can hurt more than friendships had not had a friendship like the one which he develops with Neve. Would he be able to make it up to her?

[magebastard]

the stench of the sea, the absence of green

wc: 1319

ship: (shadow dragon) loua ‘rook’ mercar x lucanis dellamorte

rating: t (blood, injury ment.)

notes: datv spoilers! happens after the act I choice™️ neve and ashur and tarquin tell loua to leave and she does but she stays in minrathous running around and helping/putting out fires/killing venatori where she can for as long as she can in the aftermath. she’s gone for a while

She does not return for three days.

They’re trying not to panic. Lace walks the length of the Lighthouse courtyard, muttering to herself when she isn’t pouring over her correspondence. Bellara lists between her own quarters and Neve’s, aimless and afraid. Davrin tends to Assan and does his best to keep a cool head. He didn’t sign up for this—the melodrama. Saving the world? Yes. The charged aftermath of this teams’ leader suddenly vanishing, with no word, after a blighted dragon felled the metropolitan capital of one of Thedas’ oldest empires? A resounding no. He contemplates leaving on the second day but the thought of absconding any duty at all roots him to the floating Guesthouse.

Lucanis waits. He doesn’t try at pretense. He wakes up, walks to the eluvian and stares for a while. He cooks breakfast, he exercises, he walks back to the eluvian. Rinse, repeat. Spite roils in his mind, commanding him to join Rook in Minrathous.

“I would be in her way.”

But you would know. She would be safe.

“It’s Rook. Of course she’s safe. She can care for herself. And Neve is there if there is danger.”

Bad blood. Would she be there?

“We’re in this together. They would not abandon each other. The other Shadows are still in the city as well. They know Minrathous. I cannot offer much beyond grunt work and that must come later.”

So he tells himself. Truthfully, the guilt gnaws at him. It keeps him in stasis. Treviso needed her—them. Pulling her away from her home was not a call he’d made lightly. Presumably like her, he assumed Minrathous had defenses that would stand up to the might of a dragon. Mages who would fight, the dwarven constructs in the city’s employ, the Soporati soldiers still residing within the capital, the Shadow Dragons themselves. Lucanis had only caught a glimpse of the damage thus far and it was enough to prove his assumptions horribly wrong. The gods had power enough to doom even the most fortifiable lands. They intended to doom and destroy their homes.

Maker, but I am glad they did not take mine.

But Neve’s…

Loua’s…

Even as he holds tight to the memory of her words, for reassurance, for hope, he flinches as he recalls her face when they crossed into the city. That quiet gasp she tried to swallow so the team wouldn’t see her sweat. Her first instinct was to hide. Lucanis files that errant thought away to pry apart later.

It’s the still-daylight hour that constitutes as the middle of the night in the Fade. Everyone has gone off to force themselves to rest. He is returning to the library building and back down into the eluvian chamber with fresh coffee.

Different. The air is thicker, kinder, crackling with her lightning.

Lucanis pauses.

She is back.

His footfalls echo far too loudly for a crows’ as he rushes forward.

“Is she hurt? What can you see? Does she-“

Abruptly, he stops at the landing. Only just managing to keep his coffee from jostling over the lip of his mug. Loua sits, slumped low on the stairs. Her curly hair is burnt, matted with blood and tied into a loose tail. Even from this distance he can see where she is streaked with gore and grime. She’s wholly propped against the wall. He can see the weight of her weariness in the long, downward slopes of her shoulders.

“You came back,” he says, deliberately ignoring the relief and the ache. She starts at the sound of his voice. He hadn’t approached quietly. A tell of exhaustion and nerves.

“You should rest,” he says. What a ridiculous thing for him to say.

“I am,” she huffs. Lucanis frowns. Her voice is raw, scratched. More than apparent with her naturally low timbre.

“Right. So am I.” He descends slowly to meet her, standing level to where she sits. Her eyes are closed. If not for the furrowed brow and the trembling, Lucanis could believe her asleep already. He—so selfishly—wishes she’d look at him for just a moment.

“Is that coffee?” Loua reaches a weak hand, caked with dried, brown blood and soot. She’s covered. She’s a mess. She’s home. He sighs, mostly at himself.

“Are you hurt?” He gently folds the warm mug into her cold hand.

“Nothing I can’t heal once I have the energy. Rib fractures, bruised tailbone, sprained ankle.” She notably does not mention the swath of bruises painted over her skin beneath the filth. Has she counted them all? Does she even know they’re there?

Lucanis sits a few steps below her. “I’ll help you get to your room. I’d recommend a bath first, but I think you’d fall asleep and drown.”

“What a way to go.”

He frowns again.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“You cannot even see how I’m looking at you.”

“You pout very loudly.”

“I am not pouting.”

Loua’s face softens, an inch of a smile on her lips. He’ll sit with her all night if she lets him.

“I’ll sleep. Then, heal. Then bathe. Then heal more, I suppose,” her voice is barely a rasp in the quiet. There is—always, always—something so fragile hanging between them. He wants to hold still, keeping it carefully in his grasp. He wants to break it.

On their best days, Spite oscillates between cruel amusement and frustrated yowling at the immutable longing that seizes him when she’s near. Now, with the gravity of her sorrow pulling her heavily down to him, the spirit sits in its closest semblance to reverent silence.

She sighs. Wheezes, more accurately. Lucanis nudges her shin with a soft rap of his knuckles. “Let me help you to bed, Rook.”

The furrow between her brows deepens. Her chin wobbles, and some hidden tender thing in his heart breaks. “Loua-“

“It’s all gone,” she sobs. Her free hand comes up to cover her face as if she cannot bear for him to see her. He is lost.

They sit that way. Him, adrift and unknowing, her weeping and ruined. Despite the bottomless well of her resilience, he is not surprised—everyone has a breaking point. Lucanis was built to find and exploit such a thing. Wait for a slip, wait for a vulnerable underbelly, strike, quip, escape. It’s a terrible routine. He’s relied on it for most of his life, and now all at once, he abhors it. If only for the way he knows she will fold in half before she does it—forcing him to know the sight of it twice.

Lucanis takes the mug from her with slow, gentle hands. She makes a fist in its absence and he understands the sentiment well.

There isn’t a platitude worthy of soothing her grief. They remain silent apart from her wretched sobbing for a long while. He feels nauseous and useless for the whole ordeal. Not familiar enough to offer a comforting touch, not verbose enough to encourage her with words. What can I do? And vaya, what a constant thought to him now.

Unbidden he feels grateful that he is there to receive this fragment of her pain. That she is not holding it all on her own. That he can share in any part of her at all.

Lucanis does not reach out to her as he might wish to. But he stays, he doesn’t consider leaving. It humbles him. It hurts. He cannot fathom her loss and he cannot fathom what she needs him to be. They flounder here, together. Eventually, the tide recedes and Loua swallows the anguish back down into her chest. She takes a breath. She unfurls into an upright though weary posture. She lifts a shaking hand and he passes the coffee back to her. It’s gone cold by now. She takes a long sip anyway. She passes it back; an invitation.

They take turns, sharing the cup.

And—yes. This, he can do.

[trillian-n7]

World State 1: The Canon Timeline Edda Cousland Human, Rogue, Alistair, Dark Ritual, Remained in the Wardens

Alys Hawke Human, Mage, Sarcastic, Anders/In Love with Varric, Left in the Fade

Gwendolyn Trevelyan Human, Mage, Cullen, Disbanded the Inquisition, Save Solas

Valka Laidir Dwarf, Rogue, Neve, Fought Solas, Complete

Fanfiction Drifting Roads (Hawke x Varric) A Chance at Revenge

More world states below...

World State 2: The Butterfly Effect Caitriona Cousland Human, Warrior, No Romance/In Love with Nathaniel, Dark Ritual, Queen of Ferelden

Alys Hawke Human, Mage, Sarcastic, Anders (dead)/Varric (post-game), Survived the Fade

Maxwell Trevelyan Human, Warrior, Cassandra (Divine ending), Kept the Inquisition, Stop Solas

Livia Stella Mercar Elf, Mage, Ashur (pre-game)/Davrin, Fight Solas, TBC

Fanfiction The Inquisitor and His Divine - WIP

Ficlets The Knight and the Queen

World State 3: Dwarven Politics Sereda Aeducan Dwarf, Rogue, Alistair (broke-up)/Gorim (pre/post-game), Loghain Sacrificed, Returned to Orzammar

Marisol Hawke Human, Rogue, Diplomatic, Sebastian, Survived the Fade, Princess of Starkhaven

Valka Cadash Dwarf, Rogue, Blackwall (Warden ending)/Varric (post-game), Disbanded the Inquisition, Stop Solas

Rurik Aldwir Dwarf, Rogue, Lace, Trick Solas, In Progress

Fanfiction Hesitiations Situations - WIP

Ficlets Waiting for Her Prince Noble Endings

World State 4: Number 4 Katja Brosca Dwarf, Warrior, Zevran, Ultimate Sacrifice

Gideon Hawke Human, Mage, Sarcastic/Agressive, Fenris, Left in the Fade

Saoirse Lavellan Elf, Rogue, Solas, Disbanded the Inquisition, Save Solas

Camille Ingellvar Human, Mage, Lucanis, Redeem Solas, In Progress

Fanfiction Lavender

Ficlets The Hunt

World State 5: The Mage Rebellion Irith Amell Human, Mage, Alistair (dead), Alistair Sacrificed, Chancellor to Queen Anora

Alys Hawke Human, Mage, Varric (head-cannon), Left in the Fade

Aisling Lavellan Elf, Mage, Cullen, Disbanded the Inquisition, Stop Solas

Kolya de Riva & Svetti de Riva Human, Warrior, Neve, Fight Solas & Elf, Mage, Lucanis, Fight Solas

World State 6: Tank & Spank

Eilidh Tabris Elf, Warrior, Alistair, Dark Ritual, Chancellor to King Alistair and Queen Anora

Emmett Hawke Human, Warrior, Isabela, Survived the Fade

Edric Cadash Dwarf, Warrior, Dorian, Kept the Inquisition, Stop Solas

Valeria Thorne Human, Warrior, TBC

[mythalsknickers]

happy DADWC! for Rook/Viper, from the exes to lovers prompts: “i miss us. is that weird to say?”

Title: Words Left Unsaid Pairing: Athras Mercar x Viper Rating: T Warnings: Pining and Angst Word Count: 223 Author's Note: Athras Mercar tends to bounce between He/ Them pronouns regularly, they are trans gender non conforming. They have had top surgery. Is this canon, IDK at this point come back later it might be.

A Year from Home

In that year many things had changed. Ashur's heart had healed some, honestly Athras was a bit jealous of that. In the year in the south no one had caught his eyes, but the swords that made up his inner walls were razor sharp.

Now he sat tailing someone with Ashur of all people. It made sense and it didn't to Athras to see him tail someone. The rain pelted them for more than a few hours, it tasted like lyrium today. Something he had missed oddly enough. His eyes landed on Ashur for a moment. They had talked since he got back but he couldn't pull the swords out to say what he wanted. Not truly, once the target moved they were up and moving.

This time it was into a bar, tucked in the corner. Buskers played something, and he sipped his coffee trying to warm up..."I miss us..is that weird" he paused downing a bit more of his coffee "It feels weird." He curled into his chair, letting his world close in. A hand touched his, and their eyes met for a moment, things they both wanted to say. "I miss us to." it was all he could say, and it was enough. It wouldn't have been a year ago, but now it was.

[proffbon]

In my game's canon it starts looking like all of Ashur's relationship are filled to the brim with divorce energy. 😭

[proffbon]

I think closer to the end of the game Viper and Ruq more or less reconcile on their past relationship and stop acting like they don't know each other and that also comes with acknowledging that both moved on to someone else.

Ashur says that Harding is a wonderful woman and Ruq finally looks at peace when he's with her.

And Ruq realizes this is his cue to say something nice about Tarquin but they butt heads so often that he kinda short circuits. By the time he collects himself the best he got is 'Tarquin can be a handful but he clearly cares about you'.

[therookandthecrow]

Lethanavir legitimately friend-zoned both Emmrich and Davrin, and refused to entertain a poly relationship with any Veilguard members, but he is fine with getting involved with Lucanis, Viago and Teia. I prefer my poly ships not to solely involve companions. There are so many other interesting characters outside the core members of the Veilguard.

Szeverin will romance Lucanis primarily, but he is going to be with Tarquin and Ashur as well as with Lucanis after he makes it up to them for a certain choice regarding Minrathous. I headcanon that he was involved with the both of them before, but it was more of an 'are we or aren't we?' kind of thing where he slept with the both of them but never committed to anything serious.

I can't wait for Lucanis and Tarquin to meet, because it is clear that Szeverin has a type. Lethanavir's type is apparently Antivans, on the other hand. 💀 By the end of the main campaign of the game, he sees Emmrich as far more of a father/mentor figure, and he sees Davrin as a best-friend, and a brother-in-arms despite his earlier jealousy and paranoia.

Lethanavir was cheated on by his ex-wife, and he wasn't ready to even consider a poly relationship during the game's campaign, because he just wanted Lucanis during that time. During that time he worried that he was going to lose Lucanis to someone else, and that he wasn't going to be sufficient or that he was going to mess it up by coming on too hard.

By the time that the game's campaign had concluded, Lethanavir is well on the road to being healed from his past relationship traumas, and he trusts Lucanis thoroughly. He had been waiting for an inevitable betrayal or the proverbial other shoe to drop, and that never ended up happening. His expectations were dour, especially after all his previous relationships turned out.

It's also worth taking into consideration that he was already attracted to both Teia and to Viago from the first time that he met them, and after he heard about Lucanis' past crush on Viago, the seed was planted in his mind that maybe one day, even casually, he could consider being with both Lucanis and with Viago because Antivans are his number one weakness.

Szeverin never had the issues that Lethanavir had, so he never thought that Lucanis was going to cheat on him with someone else. Honestly, Szeverin is quite the opposite in that approach, because he was very secure in his approach to Lucanis. He'd never had a serious relationship before either, so there was no-one to compare what he has with Lucanis too, because everything was casual like it was with Ashur and Tarquin. te

[thebisexualmandalorian]

Fandom: Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ashur | The Viper/Rook/Tarquin Characters: Ashur | The Viper, Tarquin (Dragon Age), Rook (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Fictional Religion & Theology, Imperial Divine Ashur | The Viper, Prayer Cards Series: Part 6 of heaven is here if you want it

Summary: Ashur finds a Chant card and remembers the moment it represents.

[mythalsknickers]

Hiii there ! For Rook x Lucanis “Like what you see” from the smut prompts ? Thank you!😊

Title: A Sacred Love Pairing: Athras Mercar x Lucanis Dellamorte Rating: Mature Author Note: Athras is Gender Non Conforming Anomaly, they have had top surgery, and use a variety of pronouns typically femme She/Them, however they do use he/him as well. Warning: 18+ Content, Veilguard Act 2 Spoilers, Ashur Slander, Smut Word Count: 2601 Obligatory tags: @cindlemain @thedissonantverses @vir-tanadahl (Where is your smut, here is mine😈)

The old gods were little more than thralls. The gods of her ancestors were despots and tyrants. The very people she swore to defend Tevinter from, and the gods of her family imprisoned and tortured thralls...

Losses, they happened and for her it was more ash left in her wake, and that was what Weisshaupt was another failure in a growing list. Her hands clenched as she took a slow, ragged breath, her ribs ached with the movement as the metal gauntlet and pauldron fell to the ground with a dull thump. Athras took her time slowly removing ruined armor piece by piece. Amber eyes met the eyes of their reflection for a moment, her terracotta skin mottled with violet bruising. Stretching up with a pained hiss they pulled the elfroot salve off the wardrobe and began to rub it into the bruises biting back little whimpers of pain as her aches made themselves known.

The salve discarded on the table closest to the wardrobe, as she slide a dark blue buttoned doublet over her head. It and the pants would be loose enough that they would not add to her aches. Her fingers found the buckles for the belts gently tightening them. Another glance in the mirror, already looking more put together. A single step had her in front of a simple wash basin full of cool water and surrounded by the oils she had left at her father's. The most notable was lavender, dunking her head into the water she scrubbed the blight ichor and blood from her platinum hair. Once it was clean she pulled her hair out into a towel. The pain was getting easier to ignore as the elfroot worked. It would take a restorative potion and probably a few days of binding her ribs for everything to go back to normal.

Food and coffee, they were the next goals, however leaving the lighthouse and crossing the courtyard was a trial. But her fingers rested on the ancient wood doors of the kitchen, the hair along the back of her neck prickling, there was spark of static that she tied to Spite being more tangible, not like the sticky heaviness that came with Minrathous' veil. Exhaling slowly, they pushed open the door, for a moment looking longingly at the coffee brewer. Her planned comfort feast would have to wait. Another breath, the pain in her ribs reverberated through her side as she pushed off the table. She was considering the fact she might need to be a little more situationally aware. Pushing open the door to the pantry, the static was heavy in the air, and Taash guarding the door. The dragon hunter did not seem to give them much pause soley focused on Lucanis. Clenching her jaw as they leaned around Taash, she could see why, wings painted on the wall and as Lucanis sat there shoulders pulled back and head staring down at the tiles.

"Demon's back." It was straight to the point, Athras quietly moved forward to stand next to Taash. "I don't think he can leave, actually." They were no mage but Spite was joined to Lucanis and that didn't at least in the experience they could pull from regarding Abominations, and Spirit hosts mean that Spite could leave. Her eyes glanced back at the man as she heard an inhale.

"Smells like melons...and woodsmoke." Something inside her that she had been determined to ignore twisted, fluttering at the rasp. She knew the feeling, it had been growing since they rescued him, and it was the same feeling that had already made a mess of her life... Ashur. No, she told herself, she couldn't afford to get into another situation with a beautiful man that would break her heart. She was afterall not spouse material, they were the dirty secret.

"Hey!" Her eyes snapped to Taash before seeing Lucanis, no Spite, standing. "No! Sit your ass back down." Gently they raised a hand to touch Taash's arm. "I think I got this handled, could you go make sure the Eluvian room is secured?" She asked with a weak smile as They left. Quietly she moved over to the wall leaning on it with a slight wince, catching the spirit watching her.

"Lavender...figs...and caramel cream." They looked into those brown and purple eyes giving a slight hum. "Now. We get to talk." Athras had noticed some tension between Spite expressing themselves and Lucanis' control. "When spirits say they want to talk, that usually means they have a bargain." She offered him, a hand resting on her hip. She could feel the weight of his gaze, even as she looked at the wings, they almost looked painted on like the marks all over Treviso.

"Lucanis. Made a deal. He hasn't kept." Athras felt a pull on her lips as she frowned nibbling on their lip. What deal was made? Was it to live or something in that vein. Her brows furrowed "What was the deal, Spite?" she leaned forward curious what exactly the spirit's answer was going to be.

"Break our chain. Kill. Escape our Prison. Live." A soft sound slipped past her lips. Ah there it was the thorn in the plan, living. Pushing off the wall they offered Spite a gentle nod. "Most that has happened–"

"No! I want out!" He growled and lunged forward, it was not the first time she had stared down an upset spirit or even those turned into demons. Her face relaxed almost bored as she looked at him. "And where would you go Spite? The south is not safe for you." Another growl filled the space, echoing between them. It was risky to prod the spirit like this. "I. Want Lucanis. To honor. The Deal." Her heart tightened both of them suffered at the Venatori, another name to the long list of people she cared about that had been hurt by that damned cult. His fists balled and another growl left his lips, with it the static electricity prickled her skin. "Tell him! Make–" Purple faded from his eyes and his brows knitted in confusion.

"Athras?" Silence, help her the way he said her name, it almost sounded like a prayer. They offered Lucanis a small smile, he was still tense. " You were sleep–" he pivoted away with a sharp exhale pacing the two...maybe three steps of the width of the pantry. "Spite was sleep walking." She gave weak smile "You didn't go anywhere." she offered, it was a small comfort but unfortunately it was the best she had at the moment. It was on than did he look back at her with lingering sigh.

"I did not want you to see that." Lucanis tipped his head sideways seeming to think. She took a breath moving her hand up from her hip to her ribs for a moment. "Again." he added with a slight shrug, his eyes meeting her with a smile that stopped short of his eyes. She snorted, her ribs throbbed with the movement.

"Nothing...I am seeing is making me want to look away, Lucanis." This man, her affection...infatuation for him it had snuck up on her, past carefully constructed walls. After Ashur's quick, selfish and all consuming love. This surprised her; little things that she had needed or wanted appeared out of the blue, seemingly with no regard for praise or thanks. "Besides, I don't see you looking away from the disaster of my life." She challenged, Afterall a dragon who left nothing but ash in her wake, seemed worse than a crow bathed in blood. Her last relationship ruined because she was of the wrong people, that ex lover blighted and she cried over the mess. Desertion of duty not once but twice. Her eyes briefly met his and there was a slight smile shared between them.

"How do you always do that?" The edge of the growl still hung in his voice but it was lighter, his eyes seemed softer but hungrier as he watched her. "Hmm? Do what?" she poked curiously only to be met with a look. "Break apart my perfectly gathered clouds of doom." It was genuine, and something she didn't have the answer to, but she could not tell if he wanted an answer. " You deserve better, than to deal with my mess." Better? She bit her cheek to stifle the laugh. She was almost certain he deserved better than her disaster.

"You are more than what you are going through." His own words echoed in her brain. You are more than his Fang. Lucanis' shoulders seemed to relax as his posture loosened, the heat coming back into his eyes.. "Besides, I'd say you wear it better than I do." Her heart quickened as he took a few measured steps forward, and she moved before she thought taking a step back. The space closed between them as his hand found the wall next to her head. Her cheeks started to warm and the tips of her ears darkening.

"This is not a good idea, Athras.." there was a pause and her exhale stuttered, his head tilted watching her while keeping her pinned to the wall, but offering her an escape all the while. She could run, rebuild those walls to keep him out but...she wanted this...she wanted to know what it was like to truly be loved. "I'd argue sometimes the bad idea is often the better one." she mused a smile curving her lips in a confidence she wish she had. As his lips curved into a smirk, the heat in his eyes melted her knees. Oh Silence, she had gotten attached to him like she had gotten attached to Treviso. She felt safe.

"You like to walk a little too close to the edge." He left something unsaid but she wasn't sure what it was. His hand crept closer to her head. His smirk turned into a teasing smile and she took a small breath. It was catching her off guard but she was determined to keep up with him. "So do you, Lucanis." she whispered, the words carried the headiness of her desire, poking the collar of his vest trying to ignore the flush to her cheeks.

"At least, I know I am doing it." He barely breathed those words capturing her hand keeping it on his chest as he closed the distance between them. As she moved to meet him, their heads tilting she saw the hesitation. "I-- I know." it was barely whispered, their lips met and he tasted like coffee and chocolate truffles. It was tentative, neither of them wanting to hurt the other. Her hand clenched the fabric of his vest, and his other hand pressed into the wall on the other side of he head. A soft sigh left her lips as the kiss warmed, desperation starting to creep into both of them. He lead the kiss, asking where once someone else simply demanded. Her lips parted and their tongues met. His fingers trailed along her ribs, the pain was there, but she kept it away. This felt different. Softer, some how sacred.

There was an irony in that, she had thought at one time, the Divine would have been a sacred world shattering experience. But this, Lucanis Dellamorte, trained assassin, a man with as much blood on his hands as she had, if not more. Kissed her in a way that pulled her very soul close. At times it felt as if there was no relenting. Her fingers found the buttons of his vest, undoing them as his hands tugged her shirt off. The kiss had broken, he had seen the bruises there was another bought of hesitation. "Athras-" she pushed his vest off with a hum.

"Luc-Lucanis.. I won't lie. They hurt but don't stop....please." She broke the gaze, the rawness in her voice unnerved her. She should grab her shirt and leave. Silence, take her to the void this was a- A hand wrapped around her waist pulling her close, her fingers finding bare skin and hair. Her eyes widening as she looked up at him. "Oh..." she squeaked, the heat of his eyes held her as his lips pressed a kiss to the first of the feather like scars along her shoulders. "No more thinking Athras." the words breathed against her bare skin as his fingers trailed over the other scars, occasionally teeth found the sensitive spots of the scars, pulling a subtle whimper from her. Her fingers tangled in his hair as his worship continued down her chest.

Her fingers trailed down his chest, belts and boots hit the floor. Laughter between the two of them as the fumbled with pants, was there ever a way for them to be pulled off that was appealing or even teasing. He back them back against the "bed" pressing her hand against the wall they crawled onto it, and he leaned down stealing another slow and desperate kiss. Don't stop she had said, this felt safe, the tenderness of his touch, like she might break. The way his lips and whispered words worshipped her. Her mind hummed with the comparisons as he made his way down.

In the time they kissed and removed clothing, fingers and lips had trailed over scars, and imperfections. Worshipping, leaving little marks of passion in what seemed like ages before she ever thought about the "bed". His beard tickled against her inner thigh, his lips pressing kisses up to her hips. Oh Silence. Her toes curled and her fingers tangled in his hair. This had certainly never been done, her breath came quickly, the tips of her ears flushed as her cheeks. Tears came unbidden, and his eyes met hers. Questions burned but they would be answered at another time. She didn't want to think about the past and how it paled and lacked.

His hand found hers, their fingers lacing as he came back to her lips, his wet, whispered sweetness went between the two of them as he gave her another kiss, the desperation burned through it, the tenderness growing more passionate, loving as the came together. It had not felt this overwhelming, tears came and he kissed them away. For all the inexperience between them them, the fumbling and the laughter, the tenderness and the desperateness had turned into something genuine and a safety she had only read about.

Her whimpers and moans, he kissed away, fingers tangled as they rocked together, her toes curled and his eyes shifted to purple and back to brown. Sweat clung to both of them. Chests rising as their hearts raced, his arms held her close, drawing patterns along her spine. She drew patterns along his shoulder. Soft kisses were shared.

Another hour or hours went by, she admittedly was not sure, but he was staring as she blinked slowly with a lazy hum. "Like what you see?" she quipped, the neutral accent slipping and her more Tevene accent showed itself, and it was met with a slow kiss. "Yes I do." he murmured as they broke apart. His fingers trailed through her curls. "Who was he?" she sucked in a breath pressing her head to his chest. "Athras.." the concern filtered into his voice. "It's fine Luca...is Luca okay?" his hum was her answer, along with the trailing along her neck. "It was..messy I mean an elf and an altus mage." she whispered a yawn left both of them, sleep seemed determined both of them would find some measure of rest.

[thebisexualmandalorian]

Fandom: Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ashur | The Viper/Rook/Tarquin Characters: Rook (Dragon Age), Tarquin (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Medical Procedures, Stitches, Minor Injuries, Dissociation, Introspection, Feelings Realization, Pre-Canon, Shadow Dragon Rook (Dragon Age) Series: Part 5 of heaven is here if you want it

Summary: Tarquin has to stitch Cael up on a Shadow mission.

[thebisexualmandalorian]

Fandom: Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ashur | The Viper/Rook Characters: Ashur | The Viper, Rook (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Arranged Marriage, Political Marriage, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, The Chantry (Dragon Age), Child Marriage, religious ceremonies, Rituals, Nonbinary Rook (Dragon Age), Imperial Divine Ashur | The Viper, Misgendering, just a couple of lines and not by anyone we like, Blood Magic (Dragon Age), No Underage Sex

Summary: we pray to the wax bride and her violet varicose veins

[thebisexualmandalorian]

as though nothing could fall

Ashur sees Cael fall to their knees, blood running from their nose as they keep casting despite both of them knowing they’re out of mana.  His own spells are faltering, swords lost long ago in the battle.  He manages one last shield before he drops beside them.  The Venatori are getting closer, no longer wary now that there are no more spells being cast, nothing to hold them back.  It’s over.

He looks down at Cael, and cups their face in both shaking hands.  “I’m sorry,” he whispers, and they smile up at him.  

“We’re together, that’s what matters.”

And it’s true, isn’t it?  At least they’re together in these last fragile moments.  He can feel the shield spell starting to fade under sword blows, and he pulls them into a desperate kiss, pouring every ounce of adoration he feels for them into every last second, wanting them to know how loved they are as they await the final blow together.  He can only hope it’s quick.

“Up and at ‘em!  What are you two doing sitting about?”  Ashur’s head snaps up at the sound of blade hitting shield, and nothing can hide his smile as Tarquin stands over them, shield raised as he parries the hit that would have killed them.  

“Having a nice picnic, you know how it is,” he laughs, and earns a roll of his eyes, “What are you doing here?”

“Somebody had to save your asses, and it looks like I was just in time, too.  Get out of here!  Stop those damned gods!”

“Quin-”

“We can handle these bastards, go.”

More arrows are loosed from behind them, Dragons hiding in the shadows, and Cael takes his hand.  He tugs them close, managing to dredge up another shaky shielding spell, powered more by relief than anything else, and kisses them one last time before he follows them into what he prays is the final fight.