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lavellander · 3 years ago

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more bc i am unstoppable now

I Am Thinking About My DA Protagonists’ Taste In Romantic Partners both their “usual” type and why they’re drawn to their canon love interest (and the hypothetical ones from other games). i expect no one to give a shit abt this except me lsdfjd but im on a roll and its a good exercise or whatever. i’m sure i’ll use it eventually?????

once again. i know no one gives a fuck but if anyone DOES happen to want to torture themselves and read this pls know all my ocs are bi except zaniyah, who is a lesbian<3

sarenan:

general disclaimer that “in the circle love is just a game” etc etc etc so while she definitely is more inclined to romantic relationships, she only really had friends w benefits at most

she likes smart people! she likes fun people, she likes people who can get on board with her fucked up sense of humor. she’s witty and charming and loves to flirt just to flirt, and in the circle that wasn’t much of an issue lol. leliana is the first person she ever feels like...foot-in-mouth around, bc suddenly she likes and is attracted to someone and...that’s allowed? it’s all very foreign to her but she falls Real Hard, Real Fast

in a hypothetical da2 romance obviously isabela is extremely hot but also sarenan canonically has a foursome w her, leli, and zev so dLFKKDS it makes sense that bela’s the love interest of choice<3 (but also i think it would be like...friends-to-friends with benefits-to-lovers lol)

in a hypothetical dai romance once again josie is very hot and also so sweet and cute and delightful !!!!! idk if its just me but i see similarities bw origins leli and josie so again it just makes sense to me that josie is the LI for an inq romance :’)

(BUT for the most part. it is pretty hard for me to imagine sarenan w anyone but leli, bc they are the only couple i have that like. makes sense. lmfao)

maeve:

actually doesnt often have romantic relationships? she has ~flings~ and rarely catches feelings. she describes her type as “anyone sexy”

(her and isabela do in fact have a brief Thing but strictly no strings attached; this is bc i was very very adamant about romancing isabela when i played da2 and then anders fucking SNIPED me. so i incorporated it into canon i guess. lmao)

her attraction to anders is originally just “sexy tortured man” and then “sexy tortured man that gives free healthcare to poor people!!!!” and then - after it’s clear it won’t be a fwb situation - she realizes she has Actual feelings for him and is like well. its been a good run. guess i’ll die! until he reciprocates dflksdjf then they are kirkwall’s weirdest couple to everyone except themselves :’)

in a hypothetical dao romance her and zev would be classic fuckbuddies who accidentally start having a crush on each other, absolutely refuse to acknowledge it, then someone else in the friend group is like “oh my god PLEASE just kiss we are all going insane watching yall do this” <3

in a hypothetical dai romance im still torn bw sera and bull. maeve would just keep hitting on sera until sera did something about it; bull would be similar to zevran in the fuckbuddies-accidentally-caught-feelings dynamic

alani:

i feel like (depending on the size of the clan etc) alani was prob mostly involved w people she’d known almost all her life. she’s obviously attracted to other ppl who like to learn and stuff, but other than that it’s equal opportunity crushes ykwim. she doesn’t even Know she has a thing about people who are like. puzzles to be solved until solas lol

in a hypothetical dao romance she’d be drawn to alistair bc...who wouldnt be. hes adorable. they’re both warm friendly charming sunshines and i think it’d be natural for them to be drawn to one another. once she realizes he has Baggage she’s like oh. OH. i have to defend you against the world now

in a hypothetical da2 romance i thiiink it would be kinda similar to solas. like oh this bitch has a lot of emotional walls up, he’s got some real shit going on. I Like That. also mage rights, hes a sad sexy doctor, we love a revolutionary, etc. it makes sense imo

zaniyah:

similar to maeve i think she’s more of a fling person than a relationship person, but she has had a couple gfs. she’s not very comfy being super serious but she’s a good gf and is very devoted. generally speaking i think she just likes Hot Ladies but is esp drawn to quirky / weird ppl lol

in a hypothetical dao romance she’d like morrigan bc 1) she’s hot and 2) she’s standoffish lol. she’d take it upon herself to get morrigan to like her as like, a personal triumph, but then along the way realize she has a real crush on her and be like shit? fuck? (the same goes for morg. it would be an oh shit oh fuck moment on both ends)

in a hypothetical da2 romance i think her and merrill would be more like friends to lovers :’) zaniyahs immediately like “youre weird. i like you” also they bond bc dalish etc, and over time she starts liking her more and more. eventually zaniyah just cant take it anymore and kisses merrill, apologizes profusely, etc, and merrill’s like “oh. i thought we were dating?” sldkfjsLDKFJds i care them

(josie is kind of an outlier bc she’s so graceful, collected, knows what to do/say always, etc. i dont believe in love at first sight but if i did thats what zaniyah and josie would be<333)

ranae:

she doesnt like. have a type really. because she’s just been in love w her childhood best friend since forever and doesnt think of what she might like in other ppl bc well. he’s right there? she assumes they’ll be together forever, even if only platonically :(

when she meets morrigan she’s like oh i like women too apparently. cool?? when she meets alistair shes a little put off by the fact that hes a golden retriever, then clings to him bc Trauma, then VERY begrudgingly realizes she has a crush on him but feels like shes betraying tamlen

eventually she comes to terms w the fact that like. theres nothing she can do about tamlen unfortunately, and alistair is here and Loves Her and he’s been the only person to make her truly happy in a very long time. it takes a lot for her to think she deserves that, but she does, and the rest is history :’)

in a hypothetical da2 romance it makes perfect sense to me that she’d latch onto the other Elf Who Is Full Of Rage immediately. they are both very intense and it can put other people off sometimes but they dont really care! die mad about it, shem! etc

in a hypothetical dai romance she’d be drawn (platonically) to blackwall bc grey warden stuff, but subconsciously they both kind of feel like frauds, like they dont deserve happiness, etc; theyre both kinda brusque, at least at first, too. she just kinda sees him as a buddy til she watches him bonding w sera or with some kids or something and then shes like 😳 😳 😳 and then angry that shes like that lmao

#oc prompt #AGAIIINNNNNN going to reiterate i know no one cares im posting this for Me #to Reference #also i have had wine. so #what can you do when the OC brain goblin latches on ykwim #sarenan surana #maeve hawke #alani lavellan #zaniyah lavellan #ranae mahariel

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buttsonthebeach · 6 years ago

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Overwhelmed

EVERYONE! I had the distinct pleasure of writing a full scene commission for @lauren-draws-things/@lauren-draws-xxx based off of one of her very NSFW and very amazing drawings! (The link might not work - Tumblr is giving me a hard time, of course)

Thank you for letting me write Lenneth, and I am so pleased that you think I did her justice <3

My Ko-Fi || My Commissions (Slots for February coming SOON!)

Pairing: Solas x Lenneth Lavellan

Rating: EXPLICIT. Content warnings for double penetration, dom/sub dynamics, and inappropriate uses of magic.

**********

Solas was always entirely too controlled, in Lenneth’s humble opinion. He didn’t misplace a single spell or word. He considered each bite of his food, each sip of his drink. He was mild-mannered to the rudest of nobles, quiet in noisy arguments. Of course, she did have to admit that that made it extra fun to rile him up. To be the only one who saw another side of him. To creep up behind him as he stood in front of his desk in the rotunda, wrap her arms around his waist, nuzzle into the space between his shoulder blades, feel him relax into her touch – and then to stand on tiptoe and place a wet, smacking, sucking kiss on the soft skin where his neck met his shoulder. “Lenneth!” He was trying to be scolding, but there wasn’t much use in trying to be scolding when one had just yelped like a dog. “You’ve been at this for far too long. Those oculara skulls won’t get any deader, you know. They will still be here in the morning. Come to bed, vhenan.” She wrapped her arms around him again and cuddled into the crook of his neck. He smelled like ink and lyrium and his own skin and it was perfect, and she wanted to drown herself in that scent. There was already a prickle of heat between her legs, and she would stoke it to a flame before the night was done.

“I am close to done.” He said, gently extricating himself from her grasp, giving her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek. Lenneth looked him over from head to toe. “Really? You don’t even look like you’ve started.” She let her gaze linger on the part of his sweater that preserved his modesty in order to make her meaning clear. He rolled his eyes. “You are more clever than that.” “When I want to be, perhaps. Right now I just want to be underneath you. Or on top of you. Whichever you prefer, really.” She rocked up onto her toes and then back onto her heels, full of her own excitement, her affection for the stoic man before her. She would peel back every layer soon enough. “No,” Solas said breezily, walking around to the other side of his desk. With a lazy wave of his hand, he reignited a candle that had fizzled while they talked.

That gave Lenneth a thought. One that had more to do with said prickle of heat between her own legs, and less to do with actual candles.

“You know,” she said. “You could always try using your magic on me instead.”

The aura of her own magic heightened around her at the thought, as though prickling with a hundred needles. It was one of those things she’d always wondered about when she was younger, and coming into her power. Things were always complicated with other mages in her clan and outside of it. She hadn’t had a chance to try with anyone else.

And Solas - the creativity in his spells, the way he confounded Vivienne and Dorian and Bull with them, the way he always seemed to be holding back some of his power - he was the perfect person to try with.

It helped that he was also handsome, and charming, that he loved her, and that she loved him, of course.

It also helped that goading him into giving it a try would be the most fun Lenneth had had in a long time, and the gods knew she needed the fun after the tension and horror of Halamshiral and Adamant.

She sent one long lick of her mana towards Solas and used it to trace the curve of his ear. She could feel the lightness that always filled her body when she stood halfway between both worlds - Fade and reality - and that only amplified that hunger growing within her. It did good things for Solas, too, from the vibration she felt in his aura at the touch of hers. The way he stood up straighter and breathed in through his nose was a good indication, too. A grin broke across her face.

“I have no idea what you are implying,” Solas said mildly.

“Come on,” she pleaded, following him, draping herself around him, nuzzling against his back and running her hands down his sides, perilously close to the fronts of his thighs. “I know how much you love to show off.”

“Lenneth, I promised this report to your council by the time you have your morning meeting.”

Solas’s tone was exasperated but he did not draw away from her. She knew how much he craved touch, how under that confident, austere veneer he was desperate for it, so desperate he could not even admit it fully, and had to show it in the way he would inevitably take control from her so he could have exactly what he wanted, needed, and from the way he seemed to hate every inch of space between them once they were alone, and bare.

Lenneth liked the role she played in that dance. She liked teasing, teasing, prodding, until she reached the soft, vulnerable center of him, and he had to react. She knew he liked it too. He didn’t know how to let it out otherwise.

“Well, that’s the marvelous thing about being in charge,” she said. “I hereby push your deadline to the afternoon meeting instead.” She traced a line down the front of his left leg with just one finger. He shivered but did not react otherwise.

Solas shook his head. “You know full well that the Seeker asked for the report. She wants to know how it intersects with what she learned from Lord Seeker Lucius. And she will not be present at the afternoon meeting.”

But he was starting to lean back into her now. Lenneth let her wandering finger wander inward, away from the warm muscle of his thigh towards the warmer, softer part of him that she most wanted to touch.

“I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard for you to amuse me for a little while, and then finish your report later,” she said as she cupped him and felt the beautiful weight of his sex in her hand.

Solas sucked in a breath.

“Lenneth,” he said. “We are in public.”

“And?” she said, cupping him closer, tighter, feeling him start to swell. “Am I not allowed to embrace my lover in public?”

“I believe that you are currently doing much more than embrace me,” he said, voice pitched low. It vibrated in his chest and she wondered if he could make his magic vibrate like that.

“Oh, my mistake then,” she said, withdrawing the touch, stepping back around to the other side of the desk, adding a twirl because she was alive and happy and she knew the dance between them had begun, and she was taking a night off from thinking about anything else. She retreated to the couch, feeling Solas’s eyes on her the whole while, knowing he was eyeing the sway of her ass as she walked.

“I have never known you to be so easily convinced,” Solas said.

“Disappointed?”

“In you? Never.”

It was such an unexpectedly sweet response. His smile was so genuine. Lenneth curled her toes with delight and then slouched down on the couch so she was reclined, and let her legs fall open, and Solas’s gaze was so heavy on the place between them that she could feel it, as real as if it was his hand.

“I must finish this,” he said.

“Would you really have me believe that you can’t finish me at the same time?”

She could see the delicate flaring of his nostrils, the flicker of his gaze from her casually spread legs to the report on his desk. He was weighing his obligations and the challenge she’d just thrown down for him. His parents, whoever they had been, had done well to name their son Pride.

Solas sat down at the desk and picked up his quill, as calm and poised as if their conversation had never happened. Lenneth deflated, dropping her head back against the sofa, and sighing theatrically. But Solas’s timing, as ever, was unerring. At the exact moment that she began to think she really had fallen in love with the most stubborn, unyielding man alive, she felt a row of wet kisses trickling down her neck. They were plush, warm, exquisitely placed. She would have sworn she felt Solas’s breath brushing across her skin with each one, that his weight was braced above her on the couch. But even as she let out a pleased hum and arched up, seeking more, she saw that he was still at the desk.

His left hand was busy with his quill, and his right hand was somewhere beneath the desk, on his knee, perhaps, and that was the trick. That was how he was doing this. He had so much power, so much control, that he could make her feel his presence with just a few subtle, out-of-sight gestures of his fingers.

Lenneth knew exactly what else he could do with a few subtle gestures of his fingers.

The ethereal kisses went lower, between her breasts, towards her navel. She whimpered, then slapped a hand over her mouth. It was late enough that the tower was mostly empty, but there was forever a spy in the rookery above, or one last scholar in the library scribbling notes, and she did have to be some sort of figure of authority at the end of the day.

“I cannot believe I ever found your focus indomitable,” Solas said, a chuckle warming the words.

He ended whatever sentence he was writing with a decisive stab of his quill onto the parchment. She could see the muscles in his right arm tense and before she could respond she felt a wash of sensation all over her body, a rain of a hundred kisses all over her skin, as if her clothes didn’t exist, as if nothing existed except his affection for her. He was kissing her breasts, her shoulders, her earlobes, her thighs, her ankles, the length of her spine. He was kissing her everywhere except her throbbing sex. She felt unbearably hot there, unbearably slick, unbearably swollen, already half undone, and she was still fully clothed, and he had not actually touched her once.

But Lenneth had some pride, too. She bit back the final mewling cry that threatened to spill from her when the rain of kisses faded, the last six or so being placed strategically around her lower belly and the tops of her legs, accompanied with a gentle nuzzling sensation. She propped herself up on her elbows and met Solas’s gaze.

“You know, I really thought your tricks would be more impressive. Is that all you can do?”

“Oh?” Solas said, returning to his writing, looking away from her. “I did not think I had to impress you. I thought I had already won you, my heart.”

And there, again, that disarming sweetness that made her want to melt into the floor, that made her breath catch in her throat. She felt a final ghostly kiss, this one on her forehead. She loved this side of him. But it wasn’t quite what she was after tonight. They could have all of that later. For now, she wanted him to transport her, to shed every pretense, to make her forget they were anything but animals.

“Didn’t you say something to me about Halamshiral? How no victory is permanent?” she replied, sitting up now - but keeping her legs spread wide, her feet planted firmly on the stone floor, and invitation and a challenge alike.

“Ah, so you do listen to my - what did you call them? My ramblings?” Solas continued writing, and now there were gentle fingers whispering up and down the outside of her legs, hands kneading the tension from her shoulders and running through her hair. Lenneth moaned in spite of herself, widened her legs further.

“Occasionally. And if I didn’t?” She did not bother to hide the breathlessness in her voice, even if she did not yet beg for him to stop teasing and fuck her already.

“That would be your choice. But I do so enjoy talking to you. You have the loveliest voice, you know.”

And that was when his magic placed a sloppy, open-mouthed, hungry kiss right on her cunt.

Lenneth arched, keened, scrabbled for purchase on the sofa, tried to press forward into a touch that wasn’t there. Other sensations joined that of his mouth - she felt hands spreading her legs, pushing them onto the sofa, felt the bulk of his shoulders, and even if she stared at the empty air in front of her, even if she stared at Solas, whose eyes were lowered demurely to the report, she could not convince herself that the feelings were anything less than utterly real.

“Oh, please, oh, more, yes, more -” she cut off her own babbling, felt her face go flame red, rode against the shape of his jaw and the press of his tongue. Her clit twitched, grew, ached for more.

“More of what?” Solas said. “I thought my talents were not impressive.”

That was, of course (of course) when two fingers slid inside of her, when he sealed his lips around her aching clit and sucked, when she had to bite down on her wrist, and even then her desperate whimpers still echoed off of the stone walls, and even then the ravens in the rookery rustled and clucked.

He kept working her. Lenneth’s smallclothes clung to her body, each stroke of his fingers and his tongue bringing a fresh wave of slick welling up from within her, and she was pulsing with her own need, writhing against the couch, shuddering every time he fluttered his tongue around her clit and calmly continued writing. The space between them was an ocean now, a gap so vast it took her breath away.

“Please, please - I want you and this, you and this, you and this.” She babbled her own refrain, not even really sure of her own meaning, just knowing that she needed all of him, every last scrap of Solas she could have, that she needed to be totally and utterly overwhelmed.

She opened her eyes. Solas had stopped writing. He was staring at her, hard, the muscles in his jaw working, like he really was there between her legs, eating her like she was his last meal. They locked eyes. He guided her closer, closer, closer to that precipice, she felt all the pleasure gather in one place, felt it about to explode outwards, felt a scream building in her throat - and then all the sensations stopped. She hovered, locked, at that precipice, panting, her throat raw.

“Upstairs,” Solas said, that one word a command. Then, smiling slyly: “If you can stand.”

Between the two of them and their ability to warp the Veil around themselves for speed and silence and cover, they made it up to her bedroom relatively unnoticed. Lenneth started shucking off her clothes on the stairs. She wasn’t sure who reached for who first - if it was Solas who clutched at her, or she who clutched at him, but before they ever reached the bed they were wrapped up in each other, clawing, biting, kissing. There was no magic now, other than the magic of their own connection, of how they bent and swayed together.

“More,” Lenneth said, reaching between them, cupping and grasping him, already ramrod straight and painfully hard in her hand. Solas made a muffled, gutted sound against her throat, where he was leaving sucking kisses behind. His hips rocked forward and so did hers.

“Bed,” Solas said.

And like that, Lenneth knew she had him. He had gone from his usual eloquence to single words, to ripping the hem of his tunic as he drew it over his head, to dropping his jawbone necklace with a clatter against the stone floor instead of setting it gently aside - he had gone from carefully controlled forays with his magic to a crackling power that seethed around him as he followed her onto the bed, crawling over her, his eyes all hunger and his hands all need.

“More,” she begged again. “More, vhenan, please, more -”

She was still soaked from their earlier play, and that had to be the only reason it didn't hurt when Solas drove himself into her, filling her up. She looked down the length of their bodies to watch his cock pumping in and out of her, the steady, driving rhythm of his need, the way her body parted for his, the shine of her slick on his rosy, rigid flesh.

“More,” she whined again. “I can't ever have enough of you, give me more.”

“Patience.” Single words again, this one little more than a growl.

“No.” Lenneth nipped at his chin, his throat, the corner of his mouth, squeezed herself around him.

And like that, she was on her stomach, and he was hauling her hips back, keeping her legs spread, pressing down between her shoulder blades, spreading her with two fingers. She ached with her own emptiness, leaned towards him, utterly wanton now.

“I am going to fill you with my magic,” Solas said. She could not see his face but she could hear his harsh breathing. “Will that satisfy you at last?” He stroked the length of her spine. It was a soothing, gently touch that made her skin prickle.

“No,” Lenneth said. “I want you, too. I want you everywhere.”

Solas's hand paused in its journey on her back. Lenneth turned her head so she could see him. His blue eyes gone black with desire, the flush on his high, sharp cheekbones, the angle of his jaw, his parted lips.

“I do,” she said, raw in her own need, her own vulnerability. She was spread before him, needing him, opened up to the most primal parts of her self. Nothing else mattered but this. She had wanted that tonight. After everything she had given for others. She just wanted this and all it meant.

Solas slid two fingers into her, curled them down, and her belly hollowed out with pleasure. He pressed on that rough spot within in her over and over again.

“I want all of you, too,” he said. “Will you give me that?”

“Of course,” she said. A wave of pleasures rippled through her, made her wetter, made Solas groan, finger her harder. “Please, gods, Solas - fuck me.”

Solas pulled her up by her waist - their bodies were flush together - he turned, they stumbled a bit, they ended up against the headboard of the bed, Lenneth spread wide between his legs. Another moment of fumbling, hands and legs - a lifting - and he was inside her again, but still this time. It was his mana that was stirring, rising, thickening from the ethereality of the Fade into something she could truly feel. Something pressing against her opening, close against Solas's length, rubbing shyly, teasingly, not quite breaching her.

A shiver ran through Lenneth's whole body.

“Oh, please, please, please -”

“You beg so prettily,” Solas said. She could feel his grin against her cheek.

The magic pressed inward by the smallest margin, stretching and burning her. She was full of Solas's body and she would have his magic now too, the essence of him, every ounce of him. She thought of him coming like this, filling her up the way she liked best, how he would groan and shudder behind her. Her cunt clenched. The magic slid in further. It was heavy, thick, blunt, pulsing with energy. Solas muffled a sound into her shoulder. Lenneth squeezed around him again, whined high and loud at the fullness, the vibration coming off the magic, the flex of Solas's own flesh within her.

“Wicked thing,” Solas murmured, rocking his hips, easing the magic in further.

“More, more, more,” Lenneth begged, and probably more besides that. She was not really in the business of paying much attention to what she was saying at the moment. All of her focus was reserved for swiveling and grinding her hips against that all consuming pressure within her.

“Needy thing,” he murmured.

And then he thrust hard, up into her, and she was so full she could not breathe or speak at all.

She burned, she ached, she felt herself on the verge of coming, her core so hot and so wet and so built up that surely all that pleasure would spill over soon. Solas seemed to sense that. He withdrew.

“No - no no no, please, vhenan, I need you, I need you to fuck me, right now, please, fuck me -”

She was being loud (as usual) and she did not care (as usual). Solas chuckled. The sound reverberated between their sweat-slick bodies. Lenneth looked down between them, caught a glimpse of the swollen red head of him, leaking clear fluid, the way his cock twitched and bobbed and the way he held back his own need.

“Noisy thing, too,” he said. “Perhaps I shall find a way to silence you. Would you like that, my heart? To be so full of me you cannot even speak?”

“Yes, please, yes -”

“Then have -” he paused, inched himself in, nestled his head into her folds. “Patience.”

Then Lenneth watched as the magic swelled beside him, a pale, shimmering phallus that found its own way into her body. They slid in together. She tried to watch but her eyes rolled back and it was good, so good, so overwhelming in the best way, there was nothing but sensation, pressure, friction, closeness. Her own magic hummed with the touch of his, the core of her connection to the Fade swelling at the same time as her clit, the walls of her cunt. She started up her sounds again, her noisy cries and moans and pleas. Solas worked her, held onto her hips to give himself stability, bounced her up and down and both the cocks filling her up. It was too much and not enough, when she came she would only get tighter and tighter, and she was going to come, her skin was all sparks and she was shouting now, feeling the wave building, her head tipped back -

And that, of course, was when her mouth was filled as well.

If she had not watched Solas’s own cock disappear inside her body, if she could not feel the slow, powerful pumping of his hips beneath hers, she would have sworn that that was what happened - that he had pushed himself into her mouth and was fucking her there, too. The cock that filled her mouth was smooth, thick, heavy, warm, as urgent in its movement as the two inside her sex were.

Lenneth only shouted all the louder. She was sweating. Solas was too. Beneath the sound of her own pleasure (trapped in her throat as it was) she could still hear him grunting his own joy. It was perfect. Perfect, perfect, perfect - the rough jostling of their bodies, the ecstasy of feeling him everywhere, of not being able to think of anything but how fucking good it all felt, how wet she was, how tight - tighter, tighter, tighter, she’d come so close the first two times, this time would she tip over the edge, would all that pleasure spill out in wave after wave, would that make Solas come too -

Solas nuzzled against her ear. He pinched her nipple. How did he still have a hand free? He went slower, harder with each thrust, and the sheer power, the power in him - he had such control over his magic and over himself -

“Do you think you will ever doubt me again?” he crooned.

The cock in her mouth slid further, teased the back of her throat. She tasted salt. She wanted it to spill all over her mouth. She wanted him to spill all over her belly. Her clit twitched, twitched, twitched. She wanted to come. She was babbling all of that but he couldn’t hear it, of course. Although - maybe he did, because he bit down on her shoulder and resumed one last driving rhythm, filled her, filled her, filled her, sent a spark of magic down to the place between her thighs and then -

And then her whole world was light, and sound, and pleasure.

She was coming, coming, coming, jerks and spasms, long keening cries, her whole body shaking, and she felt the ethereal shaft in her mouth jerk and spasm too, felt Solas’s whole body go tense - felt the magic dissipate, suddenly, half of the fullness leaving her body just as the last pulses wracked her - and then he pulled himself free from her body just in time to splash her with his spend, groaning and shaking all the while behind her, and he had been full, too - he went on and on, rope after rope, until he too was weak with the force of his pleasure.

Lenneth lay back against him, trembling. Solas barely held her up. He was panting. Lenneth was sore, and exhausted - and alive, so alive, and in love, so in love. She did not ever want to move or think again.

“Are you well?” Solas asked some time later. Lenneth wondered if she had dozed off and worried him. But, then again, he was like that - solicitous, caring, aware of her needs, perhaps even to the detriment of his own.

“I am perfect,” she said. He hummed and kissed her shoulder in response.

“Shall I clean you off?”

“After you worked so hard to make a mess of me?”

He laughed. She burrowed against him, determined not to let him move her off of him. She could not see his face this way, but she could feel every part of him - could feel him softening against her thigh, could feel the rhythm of his heart - and that mattered far more.

“Oh, Lenneth,” he said, absently. Maybe he was falling asleep, too.

“Are you well?” she asked, no mockery in her repetition of his question.

Solas was quiet a moment before answering. She wondered if it disconcerted him when she pushed him to lose control, or even if it just drained him. She waited for his answer, attentive.

“I am more than well,” he said. “As always, vhenan, you - transport me.”

She wondered what he meant by that. It was an odd choice of words. A careful one.

“I hope I transport you somewhere good,” she said. “Especially when we play like this.”

This time she had to turn around to see his face, to be sure. She flopped over inelegantly, so that she was still lying on top of him, but face to face this time. He was more flushed than she expected, but his face had a dreamy relaxation.

Solas cupped her face in both his hands, like she was something precious.

“Always,” he said, kissing each of her cheeks. “Except, perhaps, when you refuse to clean up, and then roll over on top of me, and make a mess of me too.”

Lenneth laughed, and that made her more sore, but once again it was the best kind of soreness - the kind that came from connection, from happiness. From feelings that overwhelmed.

#beach does commissions #lenneth lavellan #lauren-draws-things #solavellan fanfic #smutty literature #lemon #i can't believe we are using that tag again #ahhhh i really enjoyed working on thissss #beach writes

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heyheysola14 · 6 years ago

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Happy Birthday, Sola!

SUPER long post ahead but it’s your birthday card so be patient :p

I just want to remind you that I love you despite everything. I want you to know that if ever you feel down or if there are days when the past seem to shadow all the hope that you’ve gathered, I’ll be here to help you stand up (kasi your back and tiny ass legs get tired easily haha) and remind you that you’re worthy.

I also want you to know that I do see you. I see all the efforts you make, how you’re making things right, how you’re trying to change, how you’re trying to be more open, how you’re always making me feel loved, how you’re taking care of me, how you make me laugh, how you want to make it work with me, how you’re sweet to me when you have sins hahaha, and how you’re proving yourself. I see you. I appreciate you. Your efforts aren’t going to waste 🌸

Thank you for your patience, for loving me at times I’m not myself. Thank you for dealing with my sometimes dramatic ass hehe. I know i know I can be moody and OA sometimes but only because I really care hehe. If not i wouldnt bother diba hehe. Anw, We’ve been fighting hard battles lately from arguing about sleepyhead and daniel, to our victory against HIV plus that painful ass injection plus going home broke af 😂. To be honest, I did believe a little when you said you have HIV and I was ready to comfort you and shower you with more love na haha. Being HIV+ is depressing and that’s when you need me the most so even if you were positive, I would not leave you. Even before we did all these tests i already thought about those so it didn’t really intimidate me much. But i’m super happy na we’re both negative. It’s a victory 🤗 No matter the struggle, I’ll make sure you won’t face it alone. Thank you for staying through it all. I know that we will come out of this stronger and our foundation will be even more stable. And with that I have faith and confidence that we’ll get through anything as long we got each other and of course if God wills it.

Sorry for all my shortcomings, for the times I hurt you with my words, for the times I make u feel condemned, for the times I shut you down, and for the times I get angry. Sorry I failed your trust and that I fell short. And thank you for forgiving me and giving me another chance to make it better. Please be patient with me hehe. I want you to know na i’m trying my best (because you deserve the best 😉😉 ha ha corny). I promise you that from now on, I’d be more open and that I’d communicate everything na. I’m working on it already hehe i’ll be better at it soon 😊. Looking at the bright side, my failures and shortcomings helped me identify where I’m lacking, how I can love you better, how I can improve my ways, and how I can be better at making it work.

Thank you for always wanting to make me a better version of myself, for correcting me when I’m wrong, for accepting all my manliness hahaha. It may not look obvious but I am learning from all of it (Starting with the corned beef I cooked. ADMIT IT, it’s good right????? haha). Thank you for always listening and for remembering the little things about me. Thank you for pulling my shirt down inside my pants, and for giving me back massages (I swear the last one I did on you was really great but you didn’t feel cause you slept off!!!!!! HAHA), and for being sweet (when you have sins). I like all our little moments together. From the little laughs, to bad breath kisses, to you holding my boob as soon as I wake up, to taking a bath together, to looking for apartments together, to moving in together, to ugly stolen pictures, to our petty quarrels, to farting at each other, to touching my sensitive butt area, to hugging me when i’m cooking, to calling me a fly, to you sleeping off while we’re watching, to our cute cheap dates, to our coffee shop sessions, to having sex everywhere, to me matching up to your amazing dance moves in the club haha, to going home drunk, to crying to each other, to winning over battles, to make up sex, to trying new things, to going out without taking a bath, to criticizing each other’s face, and to all our future journeys to come.

I want you to know that I’ll always have your back. I’ll help you make your (and our) dreams happen. I will always go with you to places where we’ll both grow together. I’ll always strive to take good pictures of you and find your less ugly angles (hahaha joke lang you’re always cute).

Sometimes I wonder why I have this love for you. This love that I have never given before. I know it’s been just a few months but time cannot measure feelings. I still don’t know the entirety of why I feel this way with you but all I know is that you make it so easy for me to love you. I can be my entire natural self, not worrying about how smelly my poop can be and having freedom from my insecurities. You make it easy for me to love you comfortably, which allows me to reach depths of love I’ve never reached or felt before. Before I met you, my world was just revolving around my career and what I wanted to do for the world. And then I met you and I have this corny shit fairy tales in my head already haha. I hope this doesn’t sound creepy or weird haha but to be honest, it’s you that I imagine burying my body and visiting my grave. Smiling down at my grave knowing that God and I will be holding your hand soon. And it’s you that I wanna present to God. A few weeks ago I heard this song with the lyrics:

“And when our time here has ended

And God asks me what I have been through

I will lay at His feet all our victories

and thank Him for giving me you

Through battles won and fears overcome

I found a faithful one”

I cried happy tears after hearing these lyrics. I thought of you. And I thought it was a beautiful thing to finally be holding God’s hand and presenting someone to Him :)

You’re an amazing person, Sola. I still look at you with the same adoration as the day I said “yes” to be your girlfriend. I’ve been roaming here and there taking all the lessons from different failed relationships the universe wanted to slap on my face. And then here you are. I am finally home 😊❤️ I love you 3000 🌸

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mllemaenad · 8 years ago

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Personally... I feel that WEaWH tries to remove itself from TME because it realizes that TME is fucking irredeemable garbage, and tries to make its WLW representation less appalling. So I'm entirely willing to overlook continuity errors for the sake of one relationship between women in the entire series that can go well.

I’m sorry, but I don’t believe that. I’m not going to argue with you on the merits of The Masked Empire, as you’re entitled to like or dislike any media you choose, but I don’t think Bioware is trying to distance itself from the novel. I also don’t think their motive is positive representation, or that they’re seriously suggesting a happy ending. However, even if they were I would call the choice to reunite Celene and Briala without any serious examination of the issues that drove them apart … disquieting.

1) On distancing themselves from the novel.

To begin with the obvious, several of the Dragon Age novels provide not only context for the quests in Inquisition, but also promotional material maintaining audience interest between games.

It’s hardly an accident that Asunder is a prequel to In Hushed Whispers/Champions of the Just, The Masked Empire is a prequel to Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts (as well as giving you a roundabout introduction to Solas) and Last Flight provides you with some context on why Weisshaupt is just no help at all during Here Lies the Abyss.

They do kind of want you to buy all their stuff. And if you started with Inquisition and liked what you saw, they want you to run back and buy all the earlier stuff for context. Video game tie-in novels aren’t generally considered high art, so they’d need serious reasons to want to reject the novel as part of their canon. Just in case, I checked The Masked Empire’s Amazon page, and it’s currently got 4.4 stars – so it doesn’t look like something they’d be particularly desperate to ignore. They’d rather you bought it and gave them money.

To move more to the specific, the game references the novel constantly. In addition to devoting a whole main quest to resolving its plot, it also includes cameos from Mihris, Michel and Imshael, which really serve no other purpose than to provide a bit of closure to the people who read the novel and wondered what became of them. This is actually more than it provides for, say, the characters of Asunder: Rhys and Evangeline appear only in a war table mission, Adrian doesn’t appear at all – and who knows where Shale has wandered off to.

It also references the murder of Briala’s parents directly:

Cole: She’s still behind the curtains in the reading room, watching the blood pool on the floor.

Briala pulled the red velvet curtain aside. Her hands shook as she did. There was a pool of red on the floor of the reading room, staining the rich Nevarran carpet. It had spread almost to the curtain.

At the other end of the pool were Briala’s parents.

– The Masked Empire

If they really wanted to distance themselves from The Masked Empire, they wouldn’t put that in there. If they wanted to say that that this didn’t happen, they’d have retconned the story – or at the very least not mentioned it.

In fact, the choice of words is particularly distressing. Cole senses pain. When he says Briala is ‘still behind the curtains’ he’s emphasising that the trauma and anguish are still very much with her, making a reconciliation, particularly a reconciliation that utterly fails to address a thing that they have confirmed happened, even stranger.

I would say that one motive for their choice to reconcile the two characters is simplicity. I like parts of Inquisition, but honestly it’s over ambitious. They set up a series of continent-wide catastrophes, each one intensely political: the mage rebellion, the Orlesian civil war, the collapse of the Chantry.

Each one probably requires its own game for a satisfactory solution. I realise they were probably going for something similar to the galaxy-wide political collapse in Mass Effect 3, but the Dragon Age games are at a serious disadvantage because they lack continuity of characters.

Mass Effect 3 had its own problems, of course, but for example – I think most people have fun curing the genophage for the krogan. But what they remember is Mordin Solus and ‘There’s a reaper in my way, Wrex!’ When it worked it was able to build on characters who were present across the series.

Inquisition is faced with trying to find resolutions for groups of people that have no direct connection to each other, and whom the protagonist has never seen before (even if they player has). This is hardly the only time their attempt to fix everything in a single quest ends up making no sense.

2) On positive representation

I’m afraid I don’t think what we get in Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts is especially positive. I think it’s … kind of infantilising, really, and has a whiff of sexism about it. I mean – again, I’m not asking you to like The Masked Empire. But this:

“It would have been a locked suite in the palace for a few years, nothing more!” Celene kept her voice low, aware that Michel and Felassan had stopped planning and were looking their way. “It would have changed nothing for us.”

“Your hair still stinks of the smoke from the people you burned,” Briala said. “That is a change.”

The dead leaves crackled under Celene’s feet as she stepped forward. “How many wars can our empire survive in such a short time? I wanted my legacy to be the university, the beauty and culture that made us the envy of the world. Instead I may be known as the empress under whom Orlais fell. You have the luxury of mourning Halamshiral’s elves and holding my heart hostage. Sitting on my throne, I see every city in the empire. If I must burn one to save the rest, I will weep, but I will light the torch.”

Briala swallowed. “You’re not weeping, as far as I can tell. Nor are you sitting on your throne. She stepped away, her movements fast and jerky. “With your permission, Your Radiance, I shall go indulge myself in my luxury.”

– The Masked Empire

… is at least an argument between adults, with the details of what they believe laid out. Celene honestly believes that the empire and her legacy are worth 'a few thousand elven lives’: she believes that maintaining the strength of Orlais is worth thousands of lives in sacrifice, as is the vision she has for the country’s future. Briala is facing up to the fact that this is the bargain she’s made: stay with Celene and she might see an elven scholar graduate from the university – but she’ll likely also see elves burn every time there’s a crisis, because elves are the most expendable people in the empire.

Briala wavers throughout the novel, obviously, because there is genuine feeling between herself and Celene. But the discovery that this has all happened before, that this is not the first time Celene has shed elven blood to impress her rivals and gain power, and that her own parents were among the victims, brings her to a decision.

You don’t have to like it, but these women are serious about what they want and believe.

But in Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts we get stuff like this:

Sera: Elves-elves-elves, but it’s really a pissing match with an old lover. Don’t know the rest but that explains a lot.

It’s hardly coincidental that they chose Sera to say this. Sera the commoner, who despises the nobility. Sera the Red Jenny, with contacts in every corner of Thedas. True, Sera’s background has led her to reject a lot of elven culture, but her biggest objection is usually to ‘moping’ about the past. This:

Briala thought for a moment. “Celene and Gaspard saw an army, but that would be fighting their fight. With the paths, I could get food to alienages where elves would otherwise starve. They would let me move ahead of an oncoming army and warn the target, or move behind them and attack their supply lines.”

– The Masked Empire

… sounds more like the practical stuff she favours: she’s said getting revenge would be a preferable option, and this is getting food to the poor, terrorising the nobility and giving little people a shot at being part of something bigger. But now we can’t take it seriously, because Sera has reduced it to a lovers’ tiff.

That isn’t meant as a criticism of Sera, to be clear. They do this when they want a mouthpiece. This is the equivalent of having Cole approve of Cullen.

And as for it going well, this is their epilogue slide:

Where once war raged, there is now a shaky peace. Orlais is resurgent, the empress a patron of arts and culture.

Many attribute this recovery to her lady love, though others wonder how long their reunion will truly last.

– Epilogue (Inquisition)

I mean – maybe they’ll forget about this. They have been known to forget their epilogue slides. But it doesn’t read as though the intent was to write a strong and loving partnership. Rather it looks as though they are selling the relationship as tempestuous.

That’s one place where I am very uncomfortable. This is the revolt of an oppressed people, and the politics an empire. And there’s a sense that they’re saying ‘Oh, those women and their emotions! Today they love each other; tomorrow they’ll hate each other; the day after they’ll probably love each other again. You never know, with women.’

I appreciate that Bioware is fairly progressive, for a game company: the character choices, the romance options, the NPCs – they are trying to represent a variety of races, genders and sexualities. But it doesn’t mean they never fuck up. I mean, there’s a bit in Mark of the Assassin where Isabela tells Hawke that Gamlen has been sexually harassing her and two responses blame her (You find something inappropriate?/Break him. And wear pants.).

Given that they are already struggling to resolve a massive plotline in a ridiculous amount of time, I’m not surprised they fell back on this. It’s narrative shorthand, and that can be handy for desperate situations. But it’s still sexist shorthand, and I very much wish they hadn’t done it.

3) Removing The Masked Empire from the equation doesn’t solve the problem

I mean, it makes some of the bigger issues like Briala’s dead parents a little easier to miss, sure, but it doesn’t make the problems go away.

I appreciate that representation is important. I do. But romantic relationships between women are not the only representation issue at stake, here. There’s no single source for the elven people, of course, but it’s easy enough to see that Bioware has borrowed from the experiences of Jewish, Romani and aboriginal peoples living under empires and/or colonialism.

And have we ever established that it is shit to be an elf. The city elf origin story in Origins is an abduction/rape/murder combo. The Dalish clans in Origins and DA2 can be slaughtered. It’s terrifyingly easy to kill off clan Lavellan in war table missions, and even though this is the protagonist’s family the game doesn’t make a thing of it. There’s a whole side quest in DA2 about a serial killer who targets elves, and who keeps getting away with it because no one gives a shit. We are up to our eyeballs in codex entries on the treatment of elves.

And here we have Briala, the leader of a rebellion in Orlais – one of the nations best known for oppressing the fuck out of the elves and trying to destroy their culture.

Even without The Masked Empire this is:

a) providing only the most minimal description of the nature of her rebellion and what she hopes to achieve.

b)allowing her to be dismissed as primarily involved in a lovers’ tiff.

c) pairing her with a woman the game actually says massacred the Halamshiral elves.

d) using the massacre as evidence against her because she was sleeping with Celene, rather than as evidence against the woman who actually committed it.

That’s … all pretty shitty, even at the simplest level. The game doesn’t address any of this. It doesn’t even force the characters to discuss what happened before throwing them back together. It spends as much time tsking at Briala for destabilising Orlais as it does Celene and Gaspard. It loves the idea that they’re all as bad as each other – which allows the player to justify just about any ending.

And this is a thing they do repeatedly: they tsk at the mage rebellion as well. They seem to be very good at describing the sufferings of the elves, the mages, the casteless dwarves … but don’t approve of them actually doing anything about their oppression. At least not anything more forceful than writing a stern letter of complaint (for those lucky literate characters!) to the local lord or revered mother.

And so minimising the problems of Celene and Briala’s relationship, and waving a locket around (which, even out of context, does not seem like a forceful enough declaration of love to startle Briala) does … not strike me as very respectful of peoples who have suffered under empires, and who have had to fight tooth and nail for every sliver of justice.

It’s not that I want to exclude a healthy, positive romance between two women in order to have Awesome Revolutionary Briala. I just don’t understand why we couldn’t have both.

Couldn’t Briala show up with a new girlfriend? Do it properly: give her a codex entry and make her active and important in the quest. Show the two of them both being affectionate and working together for the cause. Make sure that at least some of the possible quest endings leave them alive, together and continuing to better the lot of the elves.

I can understand that you may not like The Masked Empire and may want to exclude it from your personal headcanon. That’s absolutely fine, obviously. But I do not believe that was Bioware’s intent in writing the the Briala-and-Celene reconciliation, and I still have serious issues with it.

#Anonymous #dragon age #dai #briala #empress celene #celene critical

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