#and i'm still /really/ distracted by veilguard >.>

[afkintheark]

Doing a base check on N&A and I checked the dino finder and there was finally a 150 male giga up! Ran out to find him, he was all by himself just waiting for me so I got him. \o/

He has much better melee than Terra, though she still has better health. Gonna breed some imprinted babies so whenever we feel like hitting Extinction here we'll have some heavy-hitters ready. \o/

We've lost steam on Aras, might even pack up and go back to the Island until full transfers open up. We can bring the new stuff back with us so I can work on breeding in the meantime, and it will be a lot nicer when we can bring our good gear/tames over.

I've also started on single-player and I have a small start on my base, though I'll need some gatherers for what I have in mind. Gonna try to get an argy first, it'll be really nice to just take stuff home to tame. >.>

[lunarharp]

fwee top 5 things i had fun with this year :-)

[crossdressingdeath]

While I'm on the subject of the sacrificed party member and that talk between Solas and Rook where Solas assures Rook that if they win their team's loyalty they won't have to order anyone to die for them (because their team will do it on their own), I think one of the most fascinating differences between Solas and Rook is that... Solas says that they won't have to order anyone to die for them if they win those people's loyalty, but he never gives anyone that chance. The most blatant example is those spirits in the regret memories, who he sends to their deaths as a distraction without so much as a word of warning; he just... sends them off as sacrificial pawns. He "did what he had to do", and he didn't much care whether they would sacrifice themselves for his goals of their own free will or not. Solas kills people whenever he decides it's convenient for him! He needs a distraction, so he sends those spirits to their deaths. Felassan insists that modern Thedas deserves a chance, so Solas kills him. Mythal's remnant has the power Solas needs to put his plan into action, so he rips it out of her. Varric pushes him to let go of the past and give up on this plan, so Solas kills him as soon as it looks like he might actually be able to interfere. Rook can be compassionate to Solas and fully prepared to work with him to stop Elgar'nan, and Solas fucks with their head all game then stabs them in the back. He ends up alone in a world he's made an enemy of because he has killed or abandoned everyone who might have been on his side "for the good of the plan". On the other hand Rook never willingly orders anyone to die for them, they let their allies make their own decisions, and they end up with a team so loyal that they delay the fight against Elgar'nan and Solas for weeks to search for them after their disappearance; while there was definitely some prep to be done before they could go into that fight and their allies have absolutely been busy while they waited, the Veilguard absolutely put going into that fight off to look for Rook.

And I think that's the thing that really gets me here. Rook doesn't only escape Fade jail where Solas never could because they can let go of their regrets and move forward where he can't! It's also because Solas has burned every bridge he ever had; there's no one left to come to his rescue. Rook doesn't get out because they move forward, although that does keep them moving where they might otherwise have given up before the Veilguard found them; they get out because their friends come to help them, and Solas has used up and thrown away every friend he ever had. Would Mythal have come to his rescue? Felassan? The spirits he used as pawns and sacrificed? It doesn't matter, because he treated them as things to be thrown away for his benefit and the ones that survived turned on him for it (so he killed them). As Harding (if she's the one to die) says during the Fade jail sequence, to Solas everyone's a pawn that he'll sacrifice without a thought because that's what pawns are for. Rook gets out because they don't throw people away! They always have their friends' backs and never try to sacrifice anyone but themselves without that person agreeing to it (it has to be Davrin who brings down Ghilan'nain's archdemon and as far as anyone knows will die for it, but they don't try to trick him into it, they just make it clear that that is almost certainly going to be necessary and he agrees)! Rook gets out where Solas couldn't when every member of their team still active comes to their rescue because the team loves them and is loyal to them, and there is no one left to do the same for Solas. He disposed of them all. "It's for the greater good" is a pretty sentiment and all, but there really is an underlying message here of you have to let people choose. You can't decide whether someone sacrifices themselves for them; you don't have the right to throw people's lives away like that or decide the course of their lives. That's what separates our heroes from the Evanuris, and that very much includes Solas. The inability to realize and accept that is a character flaw of Solas's that's been present since DAI, and now we see the consequences: he's alone, no one will ever come to his rescue the way the Veilguard comes to Rook's, and he has no one to blame but himself.

[lafaiette]

Veilguard spoilers under the read more

So, years and years of fan theories confirmed through six cutscenes one can watch one after the other in one sitting, especially if they have explored the Crossroads extensively before the first meeting with the Inquisitor. No suspence, no crescendo, no hype at all. Okay.

I wasn't surprised by learning that Solas - and all ancient elven people - are spirits who got a body, this was heavily implied since DA:I

But I was surprised to see the key to this was lyrium. This seemed to be addressed differently in Trespasser, where it actually looked like the Evanuris stole lyrium to become stronger/gain more power. And Solas and Mythal being the cause of the Blight makes... very little sense. We knew that Mythal locked the Blight away ever since Trespasser, yes, but her and Solas literally being the cause of everything? Bruh.

The Blight always seemed like a biological response to intruders, like a high fever - not a countereffect of Tranquility. Does that mean that a Tranquil mage can become blighted? Why are only Titans affected by their dreams being severed this way?

Also, the way Solas and Mythal's relationship is addressed is a bit... heh, I don't know, almost malicious, as if Weekes were smirking all smugly while writing it. It's clear they went on a field trip while writing the scene where the companions discuss "love" and whether "they were doing it" or not. I can't believe they genuinely thought Solavellan fans would be okay with it - it's not just a cutscene, it's an entire game basically built on a previous relationship, one that the writers hint as still being strong. What is Lavellan, then? Because at this point she really feels like a dalliance, with Mythal being the reason Solas couldn't stay with her. A distraction from who is basically an abusive friend (or more?) who forced him to get a body and serve her.

I'm still in Act 1, but for now the game just isn't doing it for me. I adored the way DA:O, DA:I and even DA2 gave us lore, leading us little by little towards big revelations. DA:I was clearly made for the fans - in DA:TV they instead hurry to tell you everything, to confirm fans' theories, as if the devs were saying "Yes, you were right, happy? Time to wrap everything up and finish this, because we're fed up with it".

[sirsagrell]

While I'm usually critical about Veilguard, and will probably continue to be critical, I want to switch gears for a bit and engage in some positivity. Because there are things in it I liked and I don't want to lose sight of them.

So this is a collection of random Veilguard positivity rambles about some things I genuinely liked:

The entire character of Davrin: Davrin and his confusion about sacrificing himself as was expected of him but surviving, Davrin and his complicated but constructive relationship with his heritage that informs everything about him. Davrin knowing what is and isn't a monster, and giving Isseya her name back. Davrin is just very Dragon Age to me. Also holy shit, hot.

Generally, most of the stuff that surrounds the Wardens - the Hossberg Wetlands, the siege of Weisshaupt, the wardens Ivo, those records about the first qunari Warden, the First Warden trying to take the sacrifice of killing Razikale upon himself, the fucked up fortress for hiding fucked up stuff, the surviving wardens saying fuck it post-Weisshaupt and turning the joining into a blight vaccine.

The flowers in Hossberg quest (or was it a hidden quest?). Loved that. Flowers starting to bloom on previously blighted land was a plot point in that DA fic I outlined in my head 10 years ago and never wrote.

While I'm on the subject of plants, Harding's greenhouse was just stunning. Went to just stare at it multiple times regardless of Harding having anything to say to me. And it's thematically resonant too.

Neve as a concept seems like a character designed specifically to appeal to me personally in every way possible. If I was a Dragon Age character I would want to marry Neve. In my actual playthrough Neve never quite stuck, but I wasn't playing myself, I was trying to play a character who fucking hates Tevinter. So I am actually considering doing a separate Neve appreciation playthrough, and I have never replayed a game just to get more of one particular character before. You are too alluring, Neve.

Taash is interestingly and realistically flawed. People like to critique their coming-out scene because Shathann wasn't even really rejecting them, rather trying to understand them through concepts familiar to her, but I like it as written. You get so used to your mother being relentlessly critical of you, you work up the courage to have this important conversation because you know that is the right thing to do, you come prepared to stand your ground, you've been imagining everything she will say and rehearsing what to say back, and when she's honestly trying to understand and reach out, you don't even really notice it and lash out anyway, because you expected this conversation to go badly. This is very human.

Also, I vibe with Taash a lot. I too am socially challenged, sometimes unintentionally rude, surrounded by things that are certifiably messed up, struggle with cultural shit, and think dragons are the best.

I honestly liked the hair. Especially those luscious curls on Teia. This might be the first game I played where hair wasn't some kind of a distracting eyesore. I kid you not it improved my immersion.

I don't actually remember if it was like this in previous games, but I am very glad they labeled the flirt/romance dialogue options in the most unambiguous way possible. I played Baldur's Gate 3 recently and the most seemingly innocuous dialogue options led to flirting all the time. I realize this may be a me problem (see above, socially challenged), but having the options labeled and never having to reload because I'm not trying to flirt with you dammit is very relaxing. Which reminds me.

I think, that despite all its flaws, and weird narrative decisions, and wild shifts in theme and tone, Veilguard still made a better attempt at saying meaningful things than everyone's game of the year 2023 Baldur's Gate 3 did (runs away and hides under a rock).

[solavellanparadise]

Queen Inquisitor never cry

I've started this as a reply to an another post, but it suddenly got so long, that I decided to post it separately.

It's a longreed on a lot of main theses that I disagree with, considering Lavellan romancing Solas and Inquisitor in general.

They are: - Many people tend to depict it so that Lavellan's life was completely ruined by the Dread Wolf and all she does - is spitefully crying in the farthest corner of the world; - There is an abysmal inequality in power dynamics between Solas and Lavellan; - That the only thing that defined Inquisitor Lavellan was her connection to the Dalish, and once she erases her vallaslin and learns the true story and tells everyone she had fallen in love with the Dread Wolf (honestly, why would she even need to talk to anyone about this fact?), she is forever alone (look at the first thesis); - Inquisitor doesn't have any personality about them at all.

p.s. sorry for any mistakes, eng is not my mother's tongue

___________________________________________________________

Well, if ALL of Lavellan's life is twisted around one man - it's really sick. It doesn't matter who that man really is in such case. But I really doubt that such a weak person would've survived being the Inquisitor in the first place. For 14 years! The thought that she would've laid down in an embryo pose and started endlessly crying and pitying herself for years is really bizarre to me. Inquisitor to me still has some personality, and even the gentliest and kindest one still sits on her throne like she means it, she still grits her teeth and gets the job done, makes tough decisions and doesn't cry about them to anyone really. VARRIC of all people tells her that she is imposing and she herself can't even imagine how much so. So, for me she's a badass herself.

She has to learn A LOT about the world outside roaming wilds in aravels in really short time. And she has to be smart and quick thinking to do that in the first place, to be natural in that. She has to be natural in a lot of things, giving the opportunity, and oh she gets a lot of them! She's the main hero, after all.

About vallaslin - for me it's like even if at first she thinks that somehow it's her fault that they broke up because she decided to leave it, or if she feels bare for lacking one, if she agrees to erase it, it can't be a decision that drags her down for the whole 14 years, it's crazy. She. Has. Things. To. Do. Thedas relies on HER to fix everything back to normal or even make it better. So even if grieving, she had a lot of serious distractions from it.

Besides, in the Veilguard she mentions, that she always felt that Solas was sad. Always, even when they should've been happy together. And after Trespasser the "why" should've just clicked in her mind, that the breakup really wasn't about her at all, at least not because any of those silly reasons mentioned above. If he could've stayed, he would've. But if he did, it would've meant that he just dumped more than millenia of struggles, countless lost lives just to be with her. Is this a really good trait for a lover to have? On the contrary - with such determination to see his cause through after all this time, Lavellan can rest assured that he will hold onto their love no matter what for an eternity. That's admirable.

About him using her. He uses any Inquisitor. And frankly I'm not seeing the whole terror of that. If he didn't, the world would've ended. So what's the point to be pissed about it? She did what she had to, he did the same. It's not the destination that is important here, it's the journey and shared memories between all members of the Inquisition of that time. Believe me, he had as much of a head ache from the constant revelations, as Inquisitor did. They're actually quite similar on that part.

The whole separated from her people part. She was one of the first ones to learn that her people now are just a mere blurred shadow of the "real" thing they tried to pursue, that she and all of them got EVERYTHING wrong. She's been an Inquisitor for four years when she learned that. If anything, she had to find a way to spread a word to her people, let them know what's coming, unite them somehow. And we see that she was successful to some degree! I believe that Veiljumpers are the product of her enlightening work. Also the Chantry's influence is eased a lot (we don't hear much about it during the game), people are less afraid of the spirits, not a single abomination during the game, a lot less demons around. The girl's been busy!

And let's be real. After experiencing being in the romantic relationship with someone who is nearly a god, being loved by that someone, would you really be able to relax and settle down for someone else? Someone lesser? People blissfully love and worship gods one sidedly, and in her case she actually had her feelings returned back.

But that's not my main point. What I want to say, is that despite everything, Inquisitor is the only one capable to hold the South Thedas from collapsing from double blight just long enough for Rook to fix things and save the world. Even with disbanded Inquisition. That takes some nerve, power and respect from kings, queens, lords, ladies and all other in position of power. Crybaby can't achieve something like that. And if anything, it just may be the other way around - there is no one else who is more worthy of her. She is not a victim, she has mind and power of her own. She is not a saint - she made her own bad decisions, ones where there was just no good decision, she sent people to die many times, decided who to die so the others would live (in the magnitude of hundreds or thousands). If she lived long enough holding the mantle, she would've turned into a villain herself surely. And by leaving her alone for 10 years, Solas just enabled her to find her own answers, establish her own world state, to become much stronger, if anything, she should be thankful that he did what he did and didn't interfere.

And when she decides to go with him it's just as relieving to her as it is to him. If she stays, people will expect her to restore South. She may be the best woman to do so in the world, but she doesn't really owe anything anyone anymore.

Any Inquisitor, no matter who they romanced, is a powerhouse on their own, thus Inquisitor Lavellan can't be lesser than that a priori. Not even because she happened to fall in love (mutually, I might add) with the Dread Wolf himself.

[sundogsandrainbows]

Hi, I'm sorry to write to you out of the blue, but Of Elves and Humans was the first DA longfic that got me hooked back in 2011 when I, as a dumb teen, happened to pick up DAO. Ever since then, the DA universe has been a constant fixation of mine and my admiration for you as a writer as well as someone who isn’t afraid to call out the franchise's flaws has never wavered. Now that Bioware decided to take a massive shit on everything pre-DAV and their oldest fans specifically, I'm really devastated and feel like a fool for having been so invested in DA and its lore for those past 13 years. It’s incredibly encouraging, however, to see you keep on keeping on. "So since they spat in my face like this I ignore this atrocity of a game even exists" is where I hope to be at soon, too. Thank you.

(First of all apologies for the late reply, I put it in my drafts when i was too tired to complete it, and then my adhd brain forgot it existed due to being distracted by new shinies 😂☠)

But aww omg i cannot believe i was the gateway drug into dragon age, or rather the old version of my story on FFN was. I am so very honored <3 And nonnie, I feel you. I am invested in DA as a series since DA:O's release in 2009, like I bought it on a whim for XBox because I liked Mass Effect 1 sm. So that is 15 yrs of my life i spent loving and discussing a thing while still being critical of the thing, but now i feel so very protective of the world, lore and its characters that "New Bioware" has decided to take a massive dump of shit on, and not only the games but the old fans I feel are treated with disdain too and do not matter to them any longer.

Long, subjective rant about current bioware aka the shambling corpse of its former self and talent incoming. Spoilers for Veilguard bc i don't give a fuck to avoid them :D You (general you, not you in particular dearest nonny <3) should use your time better than to play this shit anyhow 😂

It feels like calculated malice of new Bioware to apply the scorched earth tactics to offscreen destroy everything that old fans and fans of the other games in general held dear, and was supposed to suck out the enjoyment of DAO, DA2 and DAI. Like it is obvious they plan to create a sequel on DA's scorched bones, but jfc, you can do so story-wise without spitting everyone loving what old bioware has built in the face after dropkicking them. But to me that is part of the problem, since if i remember correctly and i wish i could find the bit... they praised Veilguard as "The best Dragon Age game ever", with the most interesting companions and best most improved combat system, comparing it to the other three games in a near smug fashion. There is marketing and there is putting the other games down to prop up your most favorite and only child mattering and they were definitely doing the latter. And don't get me started on the whole "Who is Zevran" debacle or we are gonna here all day.

Bottom line is new/current devs and writer do not give a shit about and very possibly have never played any other game than Inquisition, and you cannot tell me otherwise. And since a lot of devs/writer have left since the start of this project that would become this abysmal game, I also have the impression that there is a lot of underlying resentment toward what these former colleagues have created and so they piss on it in order to make it fully theirs now. Like dogs marking their territory, and well that did not work out, imo. At all.

Ever since they announced respecting our past choices by ignoring them (????) it was clear to me that I would not play Veilguard but just watch a playthrough and all spoilers and then move on. And everything i saw before release was shocking... like i was flabbergasted at how baaaad the dialogue was, which as a writer myself is super important to me in my story. There was no subtext, characters just blurt out everything they think and feel, like a lifeless doll you squeeze and words tumbling out and just as natural. It is stilted, awkward and 80% of it exists for info dump or info dumb rather as they keep repeating the same shit they just told you a few seconds ago as if you as the player are braindead. Here is a good example of what i mean.

Jfc, who edited this crap? There is so much superfluous dialogue that adds nothing to a scene but annoyance for the player and says nothing at all. Just pure senseless yapping in the most cringy way. Why was no one there to trim this nonsense as you should as a writer/editor? Hell, they really disregarded every simple and basic writing rule (everything is told never SHOWN for example especially in dialogue) which really made me question their competence in what they were doing and thus the quality of the upcoming game but i still held out hope for it to not be that bad.

Well shit, it was even worse. In all regards. Especially the writing that cringed this writer into a new dimension with its incoherent incompetence. Jfc. they got paid for that? I'm convinced the majority of fandom writer can do much better, even unpaid. Hell my cat just by walking over the keyboard can manage a better draft and script...💀

But I digress. That is a rant for another time. Point is, nonny, despite my defiant words, I struggled too for days after i got to know the full extent of Bioware's spiteful fuckery to even look at anything da related, in my case my Alistair/Mahariel longfic. I was really down for a few days, ngl. Then again, there is nothing better than spite fueling my creativity to prove "i can write better" soooo in the end and with the help of the much better first version of DA4 in the artbook, I was able to exorcise the demons and feverdream-mindfuck of mediocrity sold to me as a turd with gold-glitter that is this game.

I have successfully now rejected its existence, filled the void with the version that should have been from the artbook and vowed to give no fucks what bioware is doing or saying and infinitely more fucks when writing my own version of thedas and the version of DA4 that should be. REWRITES BBY hell yeah. So OEAH:R is just the beginning of a verse-wise rewrite. But if you need a pick me up, nonny, you are very much welcome to take a trip down memory lane to Dragon 9:30 and see how much this iteration of the story differs from my first one back in the days. Because in this house of mine, we grow and learn as writers, unlike bioware where writer ego reigns surpreme (oh boy and does it ever show in VG) aka eating their own turds and tell themselves it is the finest chocolate 💀

There is still a lot of good about DA out there, but we have to accept it does not come from Bioware any longer. Instead it came, comes and will come from the fans and creators of art and texts and words defying their bullshit with their love and respect for the world, its lore and characters. Also very unlike Bioware.

As we should <3

[shizuu-chann]

Playing Veilguard a second time, I'm realizing how often the "Devouring Storm" is mentioned and I'm dying to know what's going to happen. Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain mention (during one of the eavesdropping scenes in the Crossroads) that their dreams since escaping imprisonment have been grey and shadowed or something (I can't remember exactly what they say, but they're both perplexed and at least mildly concerned--at least until Elgar'nan waves his verbal hand and dismisses it while saying, "The future is intangible, only the past and present matter" or whatever).

Even Anaris wants to gain corporeal form again to escape the impending "storm" (not sure how that would have worked out for him, but again, whatever). Cyrian tells us Anaris is scared of something but he doesn't know what! Plus, learning more about what the qunari were running from before settling Par Vollen and the tablet mentioning said Devouring Storm. What did they want with the Inquisition last game with the War Table missions? Then there's the secret ending, of course, and I just really hope we actually get a game in the future that tells the story!

What about Those Across the Sea is powerful enough to force the kossith to splice some of their own with dragons to gain fire breath? What are they, that they had the Imperium scared a millennium ago when they still worshipped the Old Gods and were arguing during construction of the Archon's Palace whether or not it should be offensive or defensive? They made an entire floating fortress that shoots magic lasers to defend against Those Across the Sea.

What boggles my mind even more is everyone in Thedas just...forgot about them? I'm not completely sure about that, but I don't recall any mention of Those Across the Sea (in-game) prior to Inquisition. My guess would be that it was intentional on the part of TAtS. If it's true that they've had a hand in all these major events in Thedas, then it wouldn't surprise me they have the power/influence/reach to erase themselves from records and the like (likely with agents) to keep people from being aware of their existence or machinations. Was them causing these events in Thedas a way to keep Thedas distracted while they made plans for...whatever it is they're doing? Invasion, at least. Was it that calculated? Can they even be that calculated?

It could also just be that they want to destabilize the region for to enact their plan. They did a great a job, if that's the case. A Blight; a war between mages and Templars; Solas possibly being aware of this impending "storm" after waking and dreaming, like Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain, and acting too rashly (as he is wont to do), giving his orb to Corypheus to expedite the process of regaining his powers, and tearing a massive hole in the sky that tore smaller holes that spit out angry spirits all over Southern Thedas; and now with Solas trying to tear down the Veil, perhaps, again, in reaction to this revelation that Something™ is coming, further destabilizing Thedas incidentally by releasing two power-mad ancient elven-spirit mages hell bent on blighting the world to reclaim their past glory.

Did TAtS anticipate that, too? Or were these two tyrants escaping unforeseen? Did they foresee someone stopping them, which is why they seemingly encourage Rook? Is foresight something they have? They seems to anticipate everything Rook does, at least in regard to the first two "circles" you find that unlock those cryptic codex entries. I just have so many questions and no answers.

I need to know who they are, what they are, and what they even want enough that they've had their suspicious little fingers(?) in, apparently, every major event in Thedas for the past several decades at least. And HOW have they had their fingers in them? Is their goal sinister? If so, do they KNOW it's sinister? I mean, the first circle-orb-thing you find, the voice says something like, "They interrupt. As predicted. As hoped. Learn. Adapt. Triumph." The second, "You return. We are content." and when you ask who they are, they reply, "Not now. Not yet. We will show you. Soon." Iirc, they seem surprised when you find the third, but I haven't found that one again yet so I can't remember off the top of my head. Their plans are a mystery, but seem sinister from what info is given to us, but then why do they want us to triumph? Unless the two Clowns escaping wasn't part of their plan and they want them dealt with, too, so their own goals won't be hampered. I DON'T KNOW UUUGGGHHH. I just love it~

[nerdee-blondee]

back on that solas and rook BS. u know what to do VEILGUARD SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

the whole scene where solas is pulling that first betrayal and trapping rook in the prison in his place is so interesting and fun to watch

because rook is solas' mirror. solas knows what will make rook drown in their regret. so first, he makes them see and hear their companions. all of them. saying that rook is worthless. not a leader. which causes rook to fall further into the fade

then solas makes them come face to face with who was just taken by elgar'nan (bellara or neve. for me it was bellara)

and at this point, rook is at least on solid ground and starts fighting to keep their companion from falling into the depths. or, as i interpret it, is in their head trying to rationalize that it wasn't completely their fault and fighting with themselves to feel not guilty. than solas sees that rook is still fighting and throws more of the companions into the mix.

davrin and harding. the two companions that u have to choose between who will lead the distraction team. the choice that got one of them killed.

and to me, this is rook's own regret version of solas getting felassan killed (to be fair solas actually killed felassan himself BUT) felassan was a general in solas' army. and davrin or harding were the leaders of this diversion team. similar positions in both of their lives

so yes, this makes the weight of rook's regret heavier. but rook is still fighting back.

till solas throws that final curve ball. the nail in the coffin. the thing that even made solas himself break and wallow in all his regrets

varric. rook's mentor figure. even though rook at this point does not remember what happened at the ritual sight, they definitely unconsciously know cause this is the final push that breaks them. they are swallowed by these regrets and are pushed down further into the depths of the prison.

and solas knew this would work. cause he himself is still being crushed by the regrets of the loss of his own mentor figure mythal (i'm interpreting their relationship as very toxic mother and son btw)

solas was able to play on rook's own regrets like a fiddle. because they are similar. they do mirror each other

except that at the end of the day, rook is able to let go of all that regret and guilt (thanks to varric himself? a spirit who embodies varric? who knows? it's not really important) and their friends are able to find them in the fade and pull them out of this mental prison. friends, that the idea of having them itself, is a notion that solas threw away entirely.

all these things that solas was never able to do himself. he is impressed immensely when him and rook are reunited at minrathous. because yes, they are mirrors of each other. but rook is also someone who solas wishes he could be.

[3hobbitsinatrenchcoat]

Some initial thoughts:

So after seeing four minor untagged spoilers in the span of an hour yesterday I finally caved and bought Dragon Age Veilguard. I played for almost five hours last night and I have. Opinions (but not the ones you might think).

I'm gonna start this with: I am enjoying myself immensely. This game is objectively fun and the characters are delightful.

So here are my thoughts in no particular order. Given that most of my annoyances so far are personal preference shit... They're minor.

I MISS top-down strategy. That's what made the game fun to me, specifically. The ability wheel is cool and all but it's not what I'm used to. Old man yells at cloud or whatever.

someone in the art department has a thing for Pixar mom dumptruck ass and hips and it SHOWS

I saw someone say you could dive in headfirst and you'd crack your head open if you tried (saying the lore isn't that deep) but quite frankly I'm not finding that to be true. There's quite a bit of lore.

I love all the scattered notes that aren't codex entries.

God the fade is so cool. Lighthouse concept?? Having to unlock rooms??? *chefs kiss*

So far the gameplay seems... A bit remenicent of DA2 with how railroad linear it is. (Derogatory) I'm hoping that changes when I progress further since I'm only a few hours in and Inquisition also took a long time to open up.

I wish they'd gone less smoothened cartoony with the animation. It just kinda looks weird to me. Sorry Bellara your jaw and chin situation is unsettling to me. Also the Pixar dumptruck ass makes another appearance in this point too.

The dumptruck ass isn't a negative btw it's just. So noticible that it's distracting me during cutscenes XD

As much as I miss top down gameplay the ability combo mechanics are LIT. That's so much fun.

I spent almost half an hour in the character creator. Take that for what you will.

I was initially skeptical about only including three choices from DAI as the things that change the story but after seeing what those choices were and the opening parts of the game I can see why. Am I disappointed? A little. But it's a completely different area of the world dealing with their own bullshit a not insignificant number of years later. Whoever is on the throne of ferelden isn't gonna matter when you have fucked up darkspawn crawling into your bed at night.

Speaking of those darkspawn. what the FUCK. THEY'RE SO MUCH MORE TERRIFYING??? WHY ARE THEY GLOWING??

If Varric doesn't talk about hawke at least once I'm gonna chew on bioware's fibre optic cables

That's all I really have on first impressions. I'm gonna sum this up by talking about a different franchise: Assassin's Creed. When they pivoted into open world they lost a lot of what I considered core gameplay. It still had the AC name and was in the same world with the same lore, but I had to learn to love it again.

That feels like what is happening here. The world is the same but the gameplay itself has been changed by time and consumer perception. It's fun but it'll never feel the same way it once did for some people.

And that's ok.

[larkingame]

Will there be any updates soon? I really love this IF :DDD

yes, and i apologize for my absence with this project. tldr still being worked on and hoping to have episode one out before the end of the year.

if you want more of an explanation i'll put it below the cut.

2024 has been a hell of a year for everybody myself included. although i'd really like to make game development my priority, this year it just hasn't been possible.

in july i became the full time carer of my elderly grandfather with parkinson's, because of this I had to take a semester off of grad school and get a second job. on top of this i'd been struggling with depression and was finally able to obtain a diagnosis for and start treating my adhd in october--which as you might guess has made progress in all aspects of my life difficult, but with the right meds and therapy i've been slowly improving.

as of november, the us election has taken me and a lot of people for a surprise (and on top of everything--this is a severely inconsiquential aside but dragon age: veilguard--the last installment of the series that made me want to develop a game in the first place was really fucking stupid and bad after i've devoted 10+ years of my life to caring about it) suffice to say, larkin is a welcome distraction and I'm putting my heart into it again when i can. ((nothing motivates me more than hate and jealousy iykyk))

as always, i thank everyone who has stuck with the project for so long 💖 the episode one portraits are finished (shout out extremely talented @tapeworrmart ) , we've finally worked out a payment system for my editor that doesn't mess with them like paypal does (love ya @gwaha ) and the adhd meds have allowed me to sit in front of a document without having a panic attack again.

[pinehutch]

Okay so my Thing about Dragon Age is this:

Ten years ago, I was in constant extreme pain as I worked my way towards a rheumatoid arthritis diagnosis. I had spent the previous year working 12-18 hour days most days, between an unsustainable volunteer job and my daytime career. Sometime that fall, I started noticing that my hands were locking into fists while I slept, and that the fatigue was never getting better, and that walking was really hard, more days than not.

I tried to work through it, that first awful year. I mostly did, too. I had weeks when I couldn't walk unassisted, and months where I was sick all the time because we were trying different meds. I called the rheumatologist in tears more than once, feeling hopeless and like a failure because I couldn't tolerate some of the easier drugs. And in between it all, I worked.

On the days that I couldn't work, and if my hands would let me, I played Dragon Age.

I'm stubborn, and I don't usually watch or read or play things that other people recommend until the time feels right. Spring 2014, I needed something that would be immersive enough that it could distract me from my body but that wouldn't require too much complex problem solving. I needed gaming, and some very trusted people had recommended Dragon Age to me before, so I started Origins in March and by July I had played through Origins and DA2 and all the DLC I could get. Inquisition came out that fall, and I was hooked.

(It also was one of the first ways that I learned to distinguish between healthy pain and warning sign pain: I learned to put the controller down before my hands would be so irritated I couldn't use them at all the next day.)

So there I was, having the worst year of my life (at that point), and I got to fill up my brain with lore and distractions and become a hobbyist expert in the historiography and folklore and religion and politics of something that was entirely made up. I could invest, mentally and emotionally, but I didn't have to fix anything real, including my own unfixable problem. I just had to learn, and to play.

Dragon Age brought me into video games for grown-ups, and it brought me back to fiction writing. The first short story I had written since high school was DA fic. I came back to writing poetry, the love of my life, a couple of years later.

My life doesn't look that different from the outside vs what it was 10 years ago. I'm working out whether or not I'm okay with that; making big changes in your life is hard when you're chronically ill and have adhd and you work a complicated job with a lot of responsibility, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try. I had expected that my general weariness would stretch over into a kind of Dragon Apathy - that there would be news and I'd say 'oh, nice,' and then go back to work and the other little agonies.

Instead, I'm delighted? Surprised? Fond? Something I loved and that I needed during a really difficult time is here, again, while I'm anticipating another sea change. The thing that brought me some happiness, some wonder, and some escape can do it still, maybe.

Anyway. I collect my favourite DA stuff at @free-smarcher. I always roll a rogue on my first playthrough. (In real life I'm a giant brain on a giant, clumsy body; my fantasy is being able to go undetected.) I love Varric Tethras because he's a highly-accomplished fuckup with too many responsibilities and because he's bad at his personal life.

When Veilguard comes out I will almost certainly, at least once, play it until my hands seize.

[thedragonagelesbian]

following the kiss with a series of kisses down the neck? :D

Kiss Prompts!

um this got quite out of hand! will probably polish it up and put it on ao3 at some point, but for now thank you for sending such a generative prompt! (major veilguard spoilers below cut)

13. following the kiss with a series of kisses down the neck

"Now, remember: the whole point of this is to relax." Varric was smirking at him, and were that gesture, those words, and this location paired with any other man, Cyrus Hawke might've come to a very different conclusion about the nature of their visit. "You do know how to do that, don't you?"

A much more pleasant one too.

Cyrus considered trying his luck--as he had a handful of times before, the chest hair really was irresistible--with a why don't you show me. Instead, he gave a soft huff. "I can relax in the estate."

"That doesn't count, when you finally have enough coin to relax here." Varric swept his hand across the room, one of a few dozen private chambers within the Hightown Baths. Like so much of Kirkwall, the room and the bathhouse both bore Tevinter stylings, dating back to when the city had been Emerius-- marble and columns and bronze filigree and stained glass windows to hide the smoke from the Foundry. A privacy divider separated two tubs set into the floor, one steaming and another overflowing with rose-scented bubbles. "I've seen you shop around for those fancy Orlesian soaps whenever you have a few silvers to spare." Cyrus' cheeks warmed, embarrassed less by the habit--every other coin of his had only ever gone to the family, permitting himself only this one indulgence: the occasional hot bath with the scent of lavender--and more that Varric had observed it. "This is all that, except more, and you don't have to worry about saving or sparing. You don't have to worry about anything at all: you get to just be."

"Be," Cyrus echoed, and for all his effort, the word still came out sounding hollow. It was accompanied by an appropriately timed twinge in his chest, where his right lung had collapsed all too recently under a templar's boot. He resisted the urge to ask if that was the real reason for all of this. Kindness as distraction. Placation.

Everyone else had tried their hand at it already. Lectures from Aveline and Anders and drinks from Isabela and Fenris and hugs from Merrill and divine forgiveness from Sebastian and steely silence from Bethany. Furious at how much of himself he had risked trying to rescue her from the Circle.

"Right."

Cyrus shrugged off his tunic, the silk finer than anything he'd ever had against his skin and still his body was coiled tight beneath it. Varric hurried to the other side of the room, but before he ducked behind the privacy divider separating the two baths, Cyrus caught him glancing at his stomach. Smooth plane and angular bones and a spiral scar circling his navel, the skin still rough and new.

Better me than you. That's what he had said, when the last of the rock wraith's electricity had dissipated and Anders had roused him back to consciousness and Varric was struggling to look him in the eye as he mumbled out his gratitude for Cyrus' willingness to use his body as a shield.

Better him than anyone.

"Let me know if you need anything, Knightly."

The inspiration for the nickname.

"I'm fine," Cyrus said instinctively as he stripped his breaches and small clothes too. Finally, he let his hair down, auburn spilling between his shoulders, and yet he hesitated at the edge of the bath, listening to the water shift and splash around Varric's body on the other side of the divider. It would be all too easy to submerge himself, and that was what frightened him. How effortless it would be to float away from his body and all its aching responsibilities. To forget that Bethany was trapped in the Gallows by the same marble that now tiled his luxury.

And yet he couldn't repudiate Varric's kindness, could he?

And it was. Easy. To let the warm water swaddle him, heat burning away a month's--a lifetime's--worth of pain in his muscles from holding them taut, as if he'd lose something--someone--else if he let his guard down for even a second. But he couldn't keep that up now. Sinking through the soap suds to the smooth basin beneath, eyes shut and weightless, his every defense stripped away beneath the distorted hum of the world around him.

Relax. Indulge. Be.

At what cost?

He kept himself under the water until his lungs began to burn, emerging with a gasp and gulping down mouthfuls of steam to keep his insides warm and his head fuzzy and the regrets at bay.

Combing back strands of wet hair, Cyrus caught a glimpse of something that made him frown. A trick of the light, maybe, playing across the length of his palm, or maybe he'd been under the water longer than he thought, but as he lowered his hand again, the skin seemed weathered. Spotted with age and furrowed and scarred in places he couldn't remember being hurt.

"You know sacrifice well, Champion, but not as well as I. You are not ready for what is to come. What will be required of you."

Pain spikes behind his eyes. He screws them shut, balls his hands into fists, holding fast to something clenched against his palm while something else--weight mantle manacle--tears at his other wrists. Tries to break him in two.

"Knightly?"

"What am I supposed to make of that," it's his voice now, echoing through his thundering skull, spitting with a bitterness he doesn't know himself to possess, "of all the stories you tell about me, of the damned nickname, other than that I am supposed to be the world’s savior?"

"I just gotta ask, if only so I can check it off my 'good friend responsibilities' list for the day... Are you okay?"

Cyrus jolted. Blinked. He was back in the baths, all pains gone except for one, a familial grief strangled through the valves of his heart. "I told you I'm fine."

His voice, his words, and yet he sensed them on his lips a moment before he said them. As if he already has. Had.

Varric clicked his tongue in response. "See, you shouldn't try to lie to a professional bullshitter.

"It's not--"

"And denial is all well and good, but Blondie did mention that the wrong sort of templar caught you poking around the Docks and left you for dead." Cyrus' chest tightened, as if it was all about to cave in again. Better him than anyone else, except this pain hadn't gotten him any closer to saving Bethany. If he had fought back harder-- "Now, personally speaking, I'd rather keep you not-dead... And I know your mother and sister feel the same."

"This is your fault! How could you let him run off like that? Your little brother. My baby boy!"

"She wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

"You don't know my mother."

More voices, more pounding against his skull, suddenly too hot and too sick, but when Cyrus tries to stand, he can't move. Yanking against the water, shoulders wrenching from his sockets, but he can't--

"And I know it's not the same thing because your sister is made of pure sunshine and my brother is made of nugshit, but I... I get it. The turning it all over, wondering what you could've done different, the regret--"

That word. That's it. Regret.

It is the undertow. Catches him by his throat and drags him under screaming. Water in his eyes mouth lungs stomach, its weight a suffocation, leaden with it and sinking into the depths, nothing left of the world around him except this. Contrition's current wound not only around him but inside, dragging him down by the entrails.

Each burn along the tract of his spasming body has a voice, a question, another enough. Strong enough, fast enough, smart enough, good enough, sacrificial enough, not yet enough of himself given to save them.

...save who?

No.

No, this is wrong, he's let go of this, hasn't he? These are not his ghosts, not anymore, Creators save him, he has already broken his fingers trying to bury his family, hands scraped raw and bloody against the unforgiving earth, but by Falon'din, he did it, three little trees planted in Lothering and the fourth, finally freed over a decade ago, and with them, he put all these regrets to rest too.

He's learned how to let go of things without leaving claw marks behind. So he stops fighting. Closes his eyes and lets the water and the weight wash over him, and he prays. Sylaise enansal. Tel'vella ar'avas, melanda vir atish'an ar ghilas la ar'athlan vhenas. Mae'aise'mala ir'eth, mae'aise'mala ir'lath, mae'aise'mala ar'hamin. Vir suledin sa'vunin, la ar'hamin.

Words Merrill taught him after Kirkwall. Words he chanted over and over and over again after Adamant, just trying to keep the fractures of his mind and body together.

Peace, peace, peace.

Everything crashes. The ocean vanishes, and Cyrus hits the ground. Cracked stone comes into focus beneath him, firm where he kneels against it, certain and sturdy and yet... and yet at the edges of his vision it turns to vapor. Solid in that way that only things in the Fade are: so long as he believes it.

Fuck.

He lifts his head, heavy again, aching again, his moment of peaceful suspension vanishing out in ragged gasps as he takes in his surroundings. An expanse of harsh light and cold shadows greets him, like a painting left out in the sun too long, its colors drained pale.

The Nightmare's lair was all sickly sheen. Kirkwall--where the Fade had dragged him after Inquisitor Trevelyan closed the Rift behind her--was pure wet darkness, a viscous womb still leaden with the aborted blood magic experiments of ancient Tevinter mages. This place, this prison visited so many times from the other side, is familiar in its cruelty, even as its nature, its emptiness, is different.

Familiar too is the longest shadow of them all: the Black City, looming. Oppressive. Watching.

Is it listening too? Can the blighted fragments of his goddess hear him when he starts to shudder? "Sylaise enansal. Mae'aise'mala ir'eth, ir'eth, ir'eth, please, please, please, not here, not again, please..."

"Cyrus--!" The wretched bellowing--the death rattles of a man pressed too many times too close to the grave and what lay beyond it--stutters as Cyrus feels hands against him. One on his shoulder, another on his cheek, fumbling and grasping tight as if to secure the edges of both their bodies, both warm and solid and real, but it can't be. It can't. Because what Cyrus sees when he blinks the tears from his eyes is a ghost. "Easy now, Cyrus, please, I've got you."

This thing with Varric Tethras' face and body and scent tries to hug him close. Like the real Varric Tethras had a hundred times before, tucking him safe against his chest, the only point of grounding Cyrus had when the world kept dropping out from underneath him. After the Arishok. After Kirkwall. After--seven years after--Adamant.

After the gods escaped. After Treviso. After Elgar'nan and Solas raged in his mind and something broke, something in the curled whisper of you do not even remember what the Dread Wolf took from you scratched against a tapestry of blood magic and sent it--sent him--unraveling. And with them the body in the infirmary. The figment that comforted him so many times. Pretended to, at least. Words never quite right, touches never quite there, hollow memories and manipulation, the Dread Wolf's wool could never wholly fill or cover up the cavity his grief carved into him.

An absence he could always feel but never understand.

It is the fact that this thing is present--that its chest hair rubs Cyrus' cheek same as the real thing, no invention or imagination, no gap to be woven over by the god of lies--that makes him howl. Fear turns on a hairpin to fury, and he throws himself against it snarling, "Ir emah'la shal, Fen'harel! I will not fall for this again." It clings to him, stubborn, no matter how much Cyrus writhes, so he throws his hand back and strikes it hard across the face. "You vile bastard!"

"Maker's hairy ass!" It finally recoils, rubbing its face like Cyrus has actually hurt it. Like it actually feels anything. "What did I do to deserve that?"

"Fenedhis," Cyrus snaps back and reels to his feet. Something deep in his chest mourns the distance, and that's all the more reason to take several steps back, staggering toward the precipice from which Solas peered down at him. "I do not know if you are a spirit or a figment of my grief or both, but whatever you are, you are not real."

It doesn't jump to its own defense. Not like the thing in the Lighthouse would, so quick to dismiss him and his concerns. To run its fingers through his hair in a callous approximation of comfort and whisper that he has nothing to worry about. Instead, this considers him carefully. Forehead furrowing and unfurrowing, jaw clenching and unclenching, the anxious working of muscles like he always does when he's deep in thought.

Did. Used to. Because this is not him.

"Guess I've gone about this the wrong way, huh," it says at last, accompanying the words with a long exhale and its hands held high. "Sorry, I really didn't mean to cause you any more pain."

"You spent months haunting me. Months I should've spent grieving and moving on instead of having this-- this--" he tries to find a word for it, the immensity of what he's been carrying, and all he can do is gesture wildly to all of it, all of him, "festering inside of me without even knowing it!"

"Solas did that to you," it insists, matter-of-fact. "He used blood magic to fuck with your mind something awful, and I'm sorry about that too, but I'm..." It pauses to regard itself, and Cyrus hates himself for staring too, beard collarbone belly hands, ungloved and spread in invitation, welcoming Cyrus to come inspect it all more closely. A body that doesn't make his skull throb the way the one in the infirmary did. Too much stimulus to override, too much magic drilling through his brain. "A bit more complicated."

"You are a trick put here to torment me."

It's familiar--something not just sterile and mimetic but really, truly perfect--the way that Varric's brow knits together, weighing down on a set of sad eyes beneath. He made that expression most in the years after Kirkwall, but sometimes before that too, when Cyrus was at his most severe. Harshness made for a most unruly survival mechanism. And then as now, seeing it hit upon the right wrong target, his heartstrings tug.

Then as now, his instinct is to apologize for what this world has made of him.

He almost listens.

"No, that's just it. I'm not. Call it a peace offering if you're feeling generous, a bargaining chip if not, but no matter how much Chuckles may regret using you up and locking you away, he'd regret it even more if it meant you'd be alone." Professional bullshitter, liars the both of them, if Cyrus had met Solas first, he would've fallen eyes open into that wolfish smirk, he knows better by now. Should know better than to listen to a single word from this thing's lopsided mouth. "Don't tell him I told you, but he's secretly quite the romantic. I think he had a soft spot for us in particular."

"...I still don't understand."

"Say someone dies right as the Veil is being torn apart at the seams, and then a fragment of their soul gets pulled in along with the most sorrowful bastard in the history of Thedas. Said bastard then dedicates his copious new free time to nurturing this soul to distract himself from the ruinous things he's doing to its--my--poor widower." Varric--it--smiles sadly and begins to reach out, as if to take Cyrus' hand, as if it feels the same pathetic yearning clawing at its ribcage, before retreating again. "And then, one day, there I was: someone to keep you company for all eternity."

Soul. He said s o u l.

It's dizzying. The implication, the temptation, the sweetly sickening thought of cracking this thing's body open and seeing just how deep the verisimilitude runs. Hunting for that originary kernel from which Solas spun all this out, this thing that is so agonizingly close to being right and Cyrus cannot help but long to run red with it. Every jagged edge where the illusion might break down just to sink his nails into whatever could be real...

"Something." He makes himself spit it out so he doesn't choke on it. "Something to keep me company for all eternity."

"Really, that's the part you object to? Not that last bit about eternity?"

Cyrus shouldn't answer it. He glances away, eyes sweeping over the colorless landscape and ruins, and he should just pick a point and start walking toward it, but instead he shrugs. "How long is forever, really?"

"It'd be a lot shorter if you found a way out." Its voice is firmer now, less storyteller and more like the man in the bathhouse trying to talk his way around a truth too painful to circumnavigate. "Solas did it, that must mean there's a way for you to do it too."

"Must it?" And he sounds like his younger self too. Like everything he's spent the last decade trying to outgrow, all that work undone, left hollow. Defeated. "There wasn't last time." It wasn't for lack of trying, for the first year at least, before Kirkwall's chains had wrapped around his bones, hooking on ribs and vertebra and the curve of his pelvis to bind him there forever.

This doesn't hurt as much, at least.

At least there's something here that looks like his husband, right?

No, no, that's what the Dread Wolf wants, that's why it's here, to lull him into staying, so why does it reply, "Still, I've never known you to shy away from a challenge"?

Cyrus charges at him, grabs the lapels of his jacket, and screams, "You don't know me!"

Be something else. Be anything else, other than something he could love.

But Varric just shakes his head. "Trust me, I wish I could lie about this too. Give you a clean break and a quick goodbye. Easier that way, right? Except I know... everything. All of us. That day in the bathhouse, the nights you spent in the Hanged Man with me after Leandra died, the siege at Adamant and all the years afterward spent missing you before finally, finally getting you back..." It covers Cyrus' hands with its own and squeezes them hard. "And I remember promising after I nearly got you killed in the Deep Roads that I wouldn't lie to you again. So, yes, I do know you, and I know that you can't give up now."

"Why not?!" Cyrus is shaking again, knuckles aching either from the tightness of his own grip or its or both, and why does the leather feel so real? Smooth and worn and supple, too textured to be spun from blood magic and guilt. "Why not? Why, Creators, Varric..."

He gasps his name and now there's no longer any pretending that this is anything other than his husband.

Cyrus falls to his knees again, and this time, he doesn't resist when Varric cradles him to his chest.

"I can't," he sobs, "I can't. I thought I could do all of it again. The adventuring, the saving, the bleeding and the hurting all the fucking time, why doesn't it stop? Why can't I just... stop?"

"Cyrus--"

"I could make a home here." Blabbering now through the tears, falling faster as Varric strokes his hair like he always used to, steady hand against his skull to hold him still. "I could be safe here with you."

Flush against Varric's body, he scarcely has the strength to lift his head, but he does, to look up at Varric, mouth parted and eyes wide and pleading. Another hand catches him by the cheek to wipe away some of the tears, and Cyrus is certain that if they vanish from his body, he will fall away into nothingness.

"Please, let me stay with you."

Cyrus kisses him before he can say no.

He never kissed the thing in the infirmary. Never even wanted to, perhaps because it was more than blood magic could simulate, breaths and saliva and stubble and the taste of Varric's tongue, so the Dread Wolf stole that from him. So Cyrus takes his desire back. Forcefully. Biting, bruising, panting, like he needs to get his teeth around Varric's throat from the inside out, the only way to hold him tight enough between his jaws.

(He did learn how to let go of things without leaving claw marks behind, but the Dread Wolf stole that from him too.)

And this thing kisses back, and it feels real. The scratch of its beard, the heat of its mouth, the crushing drag of its lips moving against him, equal in force but agonizing in pace, slow and deliberate to Cyrus' desperate nipping. Varric, gentle, caressing the back of his skull, Cyrus, ravenous, nails scrambling for purchase against the leather and catching on the skin beneath.

Residue. Remnants. A ghost's particulate traces.

How much more of Varric's body can he keep like this? Under his nails, in his mouth, between his legs.

Cyrus' lungs start to burn, but he doesn't pull away to breathe. Lips slick and open, Cyrus keeps kissing him, chin, jaw, neck, down the center of his throat. Varric tilts his head back with an obliging groan as Cyrus' teeth scrape against his jugular. And further down still, sprinting the length of his body as if it might vanish the moment that he hesitates, collarbone and sternum and ripping open the last buttons of his shirt to kiss his navel too.

Devouring without savoring. No moment to linger, to enjoy the fat on his hips or the shape of his nipples, just one long breath with which to swallow him whole... until the hand in his hair pulls him away from Varric's happy trail.

"No," he's holding onto the cloth of Varric's belt like it's the last lifeline he has left in the world, "no, wait, please..."

Varric tilts his head back, and Cyrus sees that him blinking back tears too. "Sorry, love--"

"One more time, I need to feel you one more time, please, please, please..."

"But we shouldn't make this any harder than it needs to be."

"It won't be hard if I stay."

"But you're not staying." He says it so definitively that Cyrus can't think of anything to do but whine in response. Unable to find the words to beg or the tears to sob more, just whimpering in Varric's arms. "The world still needs you."

"Fuck the world."

Fuck me, or let me fuck you, and then maybe you won't make me go.

And then even if you do, I'll have more left of you than the memories a god scarred into me.

"And more than that," Varric insists softly, "your friends still want you. So we can play pretend all we want. Maker only knows how much I want," it makes Cyrus shiver every time--the last time--when Varric speaks of desire, smoldering and real, pretension stripped down to a husky growl and the tightening of his grip on Cyrus' body... before he shakes his head, "but we both know how this will end."

"I don't like this ending. You were supposed to write me a better one." That was the promise, made the night Cyrus' heroism nearly killed him, indistinguishable from all the others except that for the first time Cyrus was scared that he had finally gotten himself hurt in a way that he couldn't come back from. The night Cyrus knelt before Varric and begged him for a different story. A selfish, happy one. Not this tragedy he seemed to have been reciting all his long, miserable life. He said yes then, why won't he say it now? "Why don't you want me to stay?"

"Because I want what he would've wanted: for you to keep living."

And despite himself, Cyrus smiles.

Sadly, bitterly, still crying, still hurting, and maybe it won't ever stop, but still he tucks his mouth against Varric's sternum as he hugs his husband close one more time.

"Damn it. Damn you, of course you'd say it like that. How predictable am I, so much better at living for someone else than living for myself."

Varric chuckles, the dryness undercut by the teary hiccups. "Look at that, I've finally found a way to use your selflessness against you."

"I'll always be yours..." Cyrus whispers into his heart. "Just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it, I swear."

Inevitability is one thing. Service is another. The only thing Cyrus has ever known, and what was impossible moments before suddenly seems so easy: when everything else he's had to hold on to has been taken away, he can still choose this. Devotion.

"I want you to keep going. I want you to find a way out of this damned prison, and I want you to kick a couple of gods' asses, and then I want you to find somewhere safe to live a long and happy life, and I don't want to see you again until you're even more wrinkly and grey than you are now."

As he speaks, Varric rocks him gently, voice like the tide, back flat in the Amaranthine harbor before Cyrus was even old enough to realize he was a boy, letting the world cradle him. Varric always felt like that-- chest and arms and legs big enough to float on top of.

Is it not a blessing from the goddess of love to feel him--if not all of him--one last time?

"I'll still talk to you, you know," Cyrus says, weepy rambling bloodletting of the heart, "you didn't leave us a body to burn, so I'm going to plant a tree in Kirkwall for you, even though you'll hate it. Especially because you'll hate it, and I'm going to make sure it grows into something beautiful, and every time I visit it, I'm going to sit in its shade and tell you everything about my life, and it won't be nearly as interesting as how you'd tell it, but you'll have to listen to it anyway."

"You've given this a lot of thought."

"That's what I did in Lothering for my family, when I finally laid them to rest..." Cyrus frowns. "Do you think the trees I planted for them are still there?"

"I think you have to leave this place and find out for yourself."

"Of course..." Another form of service, another reason to keep going, and still Cyrus cannot help but linger some few moments more, nuzzling up to his neck, the closest, safest thing to home he's known in so long. "I love you."

"I love you too. More than I could ever put into any words or story."

"You bloody hypocrite," Cyrus gives him a small shove, "telling me not to make things harder than they need to be and then quoting your wedding vows."

They all thought Varric would have some long-winded speech prepared, but it was just this: the simple acknowledgment that some things are too big, too much. Love, grief, the way they've bent and bowed their lives around one another a thousand times over.

"Sorry," Varric laughs again, softer this time, apologetic hands massaging Cyrus' back, always knowing exactly where and how to touch him, "I just couldn't help it. Who knows when you'll get to hear it again?"

"Two can play that game, you know." Maybe some small part of him is still hoping that he'll win. Cyrus takes Varric's hand, brings it to his mouth, and covers the ring there with his lips. "Sylaise enaste var aravel. Lama, ara las mir lath. Bellanaris."

Bellanaris. Eternity. Come all too soon.

Everything aches as Cyrus pulls himself to his feet by Varric's shoulders. The constant low hum of his chronic pain turning sharp, stiff, brittle, knees and back groaning loudest of them all. "Creators, I'm too old for this..."

"You'd think Chuckles would've done you the courtesy of leaving you some forearm crutches too," Varric tsks. "Well, you can lean on me for now."

"For how much longer?" Despite himself, an inkling of fear worms it way back into Cyrus' voice as he once more takes in their surroundings. Splintered cobblestone and twisted arches and fog parting, slowly, to reveal the silver-tipped grass growing up between the gaps. He glances back down at Varric and drinks in every detail of his visage that he can. Eyes burning warm, wood in the hearth. "I can't stay, but... would you stay? With me? Until the end?"

"Of course, love. Every step of the way."

[darethshirl]

sherlock drabble

i am so curious about that one

!!! aaaa!!!! okay so this is yet another fic for my beloved Sherlock&Co podcast aka the modern au of my dreams where sherlock holmes is canonly autistic and john watson is making podcasts of their adventures and they have fantastic chemistry together and ITS REALLY GOOD AND YOU GUYS SHOULD GIVE IT A TRY JUST SAYING JUST SAYYYYINGGGGG

ahem. anyway.

so yeah this all started as basically a writing exercise I wrote on a whim, which then evolved into a drabble, which then evolved further into 8k+ words of johnlock ust and john having a crush he just will NOT acknowledge. he just wont 😇 because I like torturing readers and also myself 🤡

I'm actually a bit scared because I truly have no plan or ending in mind for this fic, which is very very uncharacteristic for me (I guess its gonna hang out on ao3 with a ? on its total chapters instead of a concrete number?? good lord how do people live like this!!) but since the podcasts is still ongoing I'm giving myself grace and hope I'll keep getting inspired for it. and hey, we should all try doing things that are scary every now and then!

anyway this wip is literally already done and ready to be posted lmao, I had just been waiting for my beta to have a look at it when veilguard dropped and fatally distracted us both. I really should just get off my ass and post it already!

[wip meme]

[anotherdayforchaosfay]

Finished Dragon Age The Veilguard!!!

Wtf!?!?!?!?

Valrico is dead? Been dead the entire time? It would've taken the entire team to keep me from ending Solas for that fuckery.

I very much want to destroy the fucker.

Next time, I'm sending Harding to distract on Tearstone Island. Losing both Davrin and Assan is just too much. Yes, I'll cry when Harding dies, but at least it's just one person and not a team.

I found those weird circle things and got the secret post-credit thing. There had better be another game because there is still a lot of lore that needs answering. Like who tf are those people? How do we heal the titans? How do we cure the blight? What's the storm the qunari are fleeing from?

My Inquisitor, Ghanima Lavellan, went with Solas into the Fade. She is too good for that asshole. I will, however, let that be their ending...and I need to write that but of the fanfic because, um, I wrote her as having his children post-Inquisition. Twin girls, who would be turning 10 years old shortly after she leaves. Soooooo much personal lore to write. It's gonna make me cry so damn hard.

Why tf is the game so short? I looked up info on any new addons for the game too. Nope. It's done. Finished. Nothing will be added. Less than 100 hours, and I went full fucking completion with it too. Why is it so short?

The choices made had no impact. Just determined the armor and abilities. Nothing else. No lasting impact, no nothing. It was like not a single choice meant anything. It feels so damn empty.

How tf did this game get any awards for the music? This is a weak soundtrack. How they managed to have it so weak with the two most amazing composers is mind boggling too. There are couple good songs, but they only work with context. The other DA games didn't need context. You could listen to them without knowing anything about the games, and you would still feel the emotions and mood. But DATV? It's empty noise. Especially the fight music.

I do like the way the fights are handled though. Really got my heart racing, and that was fun.

Why tf doesn't Rook have a bed? The room looks cold! They need a bed and blankets. A chaise is not enough. I will correct this when I write my Rook's story.

I know it's canon Lucanis has no sexual experience, and I do like how well conveyed it is. What I don't like is that we were lead to believe the romance was steamy. It was fade-to-black (done rather well though), and all I saw were boobs. I thought this would be at BG3 level of steamy. Nope. Not at all. Please tell me the other romances don't do the weak fade-to-black. DAO may have had some awkward angles, but at keast we had something. Why bother with bulge in CC when it doesn't mean anything other than appearance? This is irritating.

I do like hearing the team complimenting each other during fights, as well as shouting warnings.

It would be nice if there were dots on the map indicating enemies. Like in most games. Swirling the camera around to find if there are any results in motion sickness.

Overall, I give the game 6/10 stars. If they had said it would be fade-to-black and didn't lead us on with thinking otherwise, the rating would be higher. For context, DAO/DAA are 10/10 stars, DA2 is 8/10, and DAI is 9/10.

I'll be romancing Davrin next.

[in-uthenera-we-wait]

I've almost reached the end of my first Veilguard play-through. The only thing left for my Rook to do is confronting Elgar'nan.

And I am once again having opinions.

(Spoilers under the cut)

The story really picks up in the third act! I have to say, the buildup to the final quest was just *Chef's Kiss*

I'd maxed out on all Faction Strength (because I NEED to save 'em all) and so, was quite confident I'd be able to have my team come out of this unscathed.

Joke's on me because I lost Davrin and Assan in the mission against Ghilan'nain. Apparently whomever you choose to be leading the distraction team gets killed... And I just couldn't do that to my Harding! But... Assan!! And Davrin!! WHY BIOWARE?! WHY!!!

And then Solas stabs me in the back (not literally) but still... And my Rook is left to wander the Fade prison trying not to cry as all her team mates dunked on how inept she was. As someone who has struggled with depression and anxiety, I know them insecurities can really REALLY hit hard!

So here's where we get one of the big reveals that Varric was dead the whole time. I'd known it for some time thanks to the PARASITES in me wanting to know the ending! But it still hit hard...

Now, this is where I'm going to sound a little bit critical... This is a scene of such gravity... Such abject grief... But my Rook just sounded... Mildly sad about it... No tears, just seemingly vacant platitudes to remember her friends who sacrificed for their common goal...

And Varric... I don't know, if I had been travelling with this magnificent dwarf who almost became a father figure to me and has influenced me to such an extent that I end up hallucinating about him giving me advice and mentoring me... I'd be heart broken... I'd be there in that fade prison on my knees, bawling my eyes out. But Rook? She just sounded sad... And even then, it didn't completely feel genuine enough. The Voice acting for most of the characters in this game are just barely passable, and it became cruelly evident in this scene, especially for my Rook!

And then when she visits Varric's cot in the infirmary, I still felt a bit disconnected with how the tone of the dialogue was just... not impactful enough!

This is especially stark when I compare it against the voice acting from Inquisition... Even the scenes with my Inquisitor just feels... Real!

But that's a gripe that I might be able to attribute to my bias towards the characters from the previous game (not really).

I got my Bebe girl Bellara blighted and I must say, I was worried for a moment that I had lost her! But she's fine... I swear, if they kill off one of the few companions I really gel with in the game, I'll riot!

I have opinions on the other companions that I'll share later when the dust has settled but for now, I'm stopping this drabble here to continue finishing the game!