#faewall

[sasshole-for-rent]

DADWC Prompt List

Writing only the following pairings from now on:

Scout Faeven Lavellan x Blackwall

Cassandra x Cullen

Faeven (any au) × [insert mutual's oc]

Inquisitor Thorin Lavellan x Dorian Pavus

Ambassador Mel Lavellan x Solas

Prompts I am asking for are:

List #1

Drabble List

LI Scenarios

Atmosphere Prompts

Any from any of the eerie prompt lists!

Currently working on The Bear and the Raven Fair and Faded Glory. Thank you! 💕

[ladylike-foxes]

Some FaeWall for the sweet, wonderful, patient, understanding @sasshole-for-rent thankyoubbyilysm❤️

[sasshole-for-rent]

Faeven's opinions on flowers (ELFROOT DOES NOT COUNT)? Does she have a favorite and if so, why?

Also what symbolism do you go feral over for her and do you associate specific tropes w/ her? 💗🌺

Faeven loves flowers, specifically poppies because they remind her of the good parts of her childhood. Lilacs are also a smell she associates with family so the smell brings back some painful nostalgia. Lotus is just what she wears and dilutes into oil.

The symbolism I go feral for specifically during Faewall love scenes is euphemisms about the sea or seaglass. My canon Blackwall had some trauma involving the sea and within her eyes, the color of seaglass, he can see the dullness only a soul in turmoil can have and how its shaped how she regards the world. He knows this because he is also in turmoil. Also mirrors I love for their dynamic because they can see the fucked up parts of themselves in each other. Lotus and citrus is her signature perfume and its used kind of like an alluring but also a mind addling affect. I have a whole pinterest board of just swamps, bogs, and open sea for her because i love how it can show how easily she can drown in her guilt or shame or sadness as she often finds her struggle with her trauma hopeless but it changes as she slowly finds herself again and how Blackwall drowns in her to forget the sins he has committed but ultimately realizes he loves her and it just turns muddy real quick. Since love, the unconditional kind, os hard or foreign for both of them. Specific tropes is unhinged, domesticity, hurt/comfort, morally grey, tough love, femme fatale, wounded person who has to figure out what peace looks like for themselves, and overall ball of chaos. She also writes letters that she would like to send those she loves but always thinks better of it out of guilt.

In this essay I decay bhcjjvbkhc

[sasshole-for-rent]

Faeven nibbling on Blackwall's chest hair like a horse eating grass: ...

Inquisitor Thorin: so uh.. Are you coming to the meeting about Adamant?

Blackwall, with a blanket barely covering his bits: I'm indisposed at the moment.

[sasshole-for-rent]

DWC prompt: (Lost souls) Wispy clouds over a full moon!

Established Relationship || Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Summary: Faeven and Blackwall get separated from the rest of their party in the Hissing Wastes.

For @dadrunkwriting

It was autumn everywhere else in Thedas besides in the desert. These lonely sands were frigid, especially so tonight. It was a harsher cold than the bittersweet chill of the forests back home. The cold here had a unsettling intent. A nail of fear stabbed through her heart and the wound bled upwards in waves of anxiety.

Blackwall had busied himself with starting a fire out of the tumbleweeds and lonesome branches they managed to scrounge up. He had been silent since the sand storm. It was one of those freezing nights that knocked on the walls Faeven had kept up during the duration of this relationship. The cold had her kept in the limbo of indecision, where she wasn't sure if she should put on more layers or if she should just let the cold pierce through her armor and skin, so maybe just maybe, it would shock her senses enough to make her truly feel real. She had tried to light up, but it was too cold that whatever high that managed to surface was immediately shredded to ribbons.

As if the universe could hear her thoughts, a particularly strong wind picked up and all she could see and feel was sand and ice. The wind died as quickly as it had sprung to life, and it left her coughing and shivering. Faeven was used to coughing, relying on smoke for most things really wasn't good for her lungs. This was a different cough. It felt deeper, full of little sharp edges.

"Faeven, are you alright?" Before she had a grip on her surroundings, familiar hands had a grip on her shoulders. Those hands gently steering her. "Please don't stray from camp." She hadn't realized her feet had taken her to the top of the dune he was walking her back. "Maker balls, don't make me have to forget the desert again, especially if it took you from me..." There was a panic in his voice, however small, it was still there.

"I suppose I was looking for the others. I just don't understand how we were separated from them so fast. Do you think they are safe?" Faeven could hear the panic in her own voice as Blackwall sat her down by the fire. It had a sweet scent to it, she guessed from the saplike coating of the branches. It crackled, snapped, and popped as it burned. In this moment, Faeven was glad to be lost, even with the fear, a kernel of peace and gratitude brightened inside her chest.

"I don't think we are safe." Blackwall said as he drapped the lambswool blanket they bought back in Redcliffe over her shoulders. He pressed his body against hers, warmth filled her slowly, completely. Faeven almost laughed at how at odds with reality that statement was, because she felt so safe here with him. She took his hand under the warmth of the blanket, brought it to her lips to grace it with a kiss. With a smile, Faeven rubbed his hand with her cold hands until she was confident she had made a little body fire in their palms. "We are safe..." She said to him, the desert, and the universe.

Blackwall looked at her in disbelief, and Faeven could practically see all of the practicality that invalidated their safety running through his mind, but she didn't want to acknowledge it. She knew his mind was in survival mode, and that mode wasn't kind. The what-ifs hound you until you give the merit, when sometimes, most times, those what-ifs didn't matter. So with a squeeze of her hand, Faeven added. "...because of you."

The disbelief eased up in his eyes, but it lingered. Faeven focused instead on his crooked nose. Its lovely wonky shape. How the cold had turned it red at the tip, and eventhough the cold left that nose runny too, and they both had to sniff to keep the drip at bay. She still had the desire to kiss it, because she loved that nose. Faeven loved the man who owned it even more. Despite his anxieties and tendency to look at the more dark side of things, she loved him. So deep that she was scared of it, because they mirrored what she saw in herself. Those things she still had trouble loving within herself were so easy to love when it came to him.

Faeven let out a breath she wasn't aware that she was holding. Blackwall apparently had to been holding his breath too, and he looked at her. "What are you looking at?" As if her gazing at him like a lovesick girl wasn't so fucking obvious.

"You." That was a simple answer. He seemed satisfied with that answer and it was a lovesick boy who smiled at her. Faeven had more to say however. "I love your crooked nose, because it tells a story of how you have always been a fighter. How you have survived whatever sort of punch life has thrown at you."

"The scar above your brow tells me a similar story about you. I don't think you truly know how strong you are but I hope I can help show you the strength I see in you."

"I don't usually feel strong..." Faeven trailed off, looking up towards the moon that decided to peek through the sad wisps that called themselves 'clouds' who lived in the desert sky. "But with you here, I feel that we will survive this particular punch together and it will be okay."

Blackwall nodded. Their souls understood each other. With the moon as a witness, he kissed her forehead. "There are times when I don't feel strong either, but you are showing me that it is okay to be vulnerable." He was quiet for a moment, still looking at her. "I am very grateful I met you."

It was in that moment that they were no longer two lost souls stranded in a desert, but two souls who realized they have found each other after all this time.

[sasshole-for-rent]

Some somft faewall sketches for your night...

[sasshole-for-rent]

Faeven: How much longer until we make camp somewhere? My back is aching something fierce.

Blackwall: Soon. It's near dusk. When we get there, I'll give you a rub.

Faeven: Oh! Can't wait! Now if you're gonna give me a good rubbing, I'm sore in other places too.

Blackwall: [laughs] My bad. Sorry.

Varric: Look, I'm happy that you two found each other, but I'd prefer if you could hold off on going at it when I'm not three feet from you?

Iron Bull: Speaking of feet, Blackwall, could you give me a footrub?

Blackwall: [sighs] No.

[sasshole-for-rent]

Scout Faeven Lavellan recruits a lonely bastard who goes by the name Warden Blackwall

[sasshole-for-rent]

Some shitty quality pictures of Faewall.

[sasshole-for-rent]

The Bear and the Raven Fair

I'm so excited to finally be serious about writing this fic I've been yelling about to @dismalzelenka so here is the first chapter!

Summary: Life always had a penchant for turning sideways for Faeven. Her cousin had gotten into some Thedas wide horseshit at the conclave. Apparently there was demons everywhere and the sky had an asscrack. The Lavellans were a big messed up family. So she signed on to help. All of her family also got the memo. The largest family reunion to save Thedas. Sure. That wouldn't be a problem at all. Thanks, cousin.

Blackwall was trying his best to thwart whatever the hell was going on with the world. Sure, he was a man on the run from himself, but at least he was trying. Didn't expect this thing called the Inquisition swooping in and recuiting him, nor did he expect the cheeky and unprofessional agent they sent to do that. He didn't expect to fall in love with her either. Boy, he sure had a way of messing up things.

Chapter 1: First Names, First Impressions

“What’s your name?” The agent asked. She was an elf, dalish from the tattoos on her face, the one who had just recruited him to this fledgling organization called the Inquisition. Though they hadn't returned to the Inquisition's base of operations yet. The elf made an excuse to stay. It wasn't a short jaunt from the hinterlands to back to where she came from, and she didn't want to tire the horses or her cohorts. Well, he was one of those cohorts now. She wouldn't say directly that she was tired. He didn't blame her, but she seemed more bone tired than any woman he had ever seen. They would leave for Haven when she was sure the horses were rested and their supplies were secured from the crossroads. Though now, she was sitting on a woodpile against the house that he had been living in for the past few months. The house, not the woodpile.

“Blackwall?” He was confused. “You called me by my name when you found me.”

“No. Not that name, the other one." He fought the panic in him when she said the other one. He was sure he buried all of the other him. This woman couldn't know, could she? She simply crossed her legs, and watched him from her perch. 

Read the first chapter of The Bear and the Raven Fair over on AO3! Look out for future updates!

Hopefully I will have the second chapter done shortly, sorry the first chapter is so short but I've got big plans for this! Then again, Faeven might derail those... because you know, she's her.

[sasshole-for-rent]

OTP Meme

I was tagged by both @bakedsweetroll and @lyrium-lavellan (thank you!)

I have a few otps... So in order from top to bottom: faewall, revmayian (@herald-divine-hell Avvar! AU Amayian), and euryazel (the wives aka. Both Ruby's Hazel and my Eurydice from stardew. They have a beautiful farm together!)

I'm tagging @dismalzelenka @laraslandlockedblues @nilesdaughter @sylveonne @herald-divine-hell @galadrieljones @ladylike-foxes @sunshinemage oh and don't feel obligated to do it, if you don't have enough energy or just don't feel like it, its okay. :3

Edit: here is the picrew!

[sasshole-for-rent]

🖤 OTP MEME 🖤

I was tagged by @galadrieljones thank you! Artwork below is by @ladylike-foxes

🖤Faewall🖤

height difference | mutual pining | first kiss | first love | wedding | in-jokes | lgbt+ | family disapproves | friend disapproves | would die for each other | fake relationship | arranged wedding | cuddlers | pda friendly | and they were room mates | holding hands | secret relationship | opposing worldviews | opposing personalities | opposing goals | getting a pet | have kids | want kids | grow old together  | relationship failures | rests head on shoulder | share a bed | token dummies | relationship doubts | they have a song | first date | share a jacket | sharing a blanket | mutual interests | study buddies | bathing together | crash into hello | accidental nudity | laundry | same hobbies | cooking for each other | big fancy gala | sibling rivalry | hair stroking | dancing | laying in the grass | watching stars together | watching the other sleep | shared values | friends to lovers  | enemies to lovers | lovers to enemies | childhood friends | slow burn | love triangle | toxic relationship | sitting on each other’s laps | can’t be together | hugs | forehead touches | neck kisses | car/motorbike rides | compliments | nicknames | falling asleep together | late night talks | gifts

Tagging @herald-divine-hell @lyrium-lavellan @rivainisomniari @dismalzelenka @sylveonne @nilesdaughter @calwyne @rachelleofalltrades and anyone else who wants to do it!

[sasshole-for-rent]

"Pfft! What a friggin' year, right? You may be a bit more gray around the edges, but you're still the same fae-day as before. Quit getting older, you arsehole! I love you." -Sera [there are crass doodles of penises and little butts in the margins, the paper smells faintly of cinnamon and the paper sticks to your fingers in places. Icing?]

"We've had two children together. We've almost died more times than I'd like to admit. We've seen some crazy shit, but here we are still kicking. Two geezers stupidly in love with each other, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I love you, pudding. Still can't believe you are my wife. It feels like just yesterday...and not twenty something years. Thank you for choosing me to grow old with." -Thom Rainier [There is smeared ink as if it was once wet and it is sealed with black wax just a fingerprint in the middle of it. Tied to the letter is a small whittled matchbox filled with silver jewelry]

Birthday Letters addressed to Faeven Nehn Lavellan-Rainier on the 23rd of Haring, 9:69 Dragon

[sasshole-for-rent]

Softest moment in faeven's relationship with blackwall?

Faeven is a really vulnerable creature underneath all that bluster, so often she will breakdown after pushing so much emotion deep down within herself. She is very sensitive and cares deeply for her friends and family, although she appears to be uncaring and standoffish. Blackwall knows there is more to her than her front and he breaks down her walls, which Faeven is unprepared for. He doesn't know it at the time, but she breaks down his as well.

Faeven and Blackwall started as a causal thing to distract themselves from the shit they were going through and something to look forward to after battle or long weeks on the road. They didn't expect anything out of it besides fun and friendship. Then it slowly shifted to something more. Little things start to come in a romantic light and Faeven wasn't prepared to fall in love with him.

There is a time when they are going at it after a particularly dicey fight and she breaks down in the middle off it because she realizes she loves him and she believes she won't be able to give him the love he deserves because she believes she isn't a good person. Blackwall stops altogether and just holds her while she cries and she lays it all out to him and he just looks at her like he is looking at a mirror and he reassures her that she is a wonderful person, a complicated and troubled soul but that is what made her who she is and she shouldn't run from that. Ironic coming from him. He tells her how he feels the same, and they end up just completely vulnerable both physically and emotionally with each other, laying naked in each others arms, crying and they end laughing at how wonderfully fucked up and deep their little thing they have going on between them is.

[sasshole-for-rent]

"I wanted to let you know…"

What did she want him to know? Then it hit her, she didn't want him to know anything. She just wanted him. She snuck a peek at his face. His eyes were on her too, expectant. She couldn't say these things with words. 

It was funny at how much depended on their lips, the things between them, unsaid and the sheer tension of that whip crack of silence after she said that. That silence was so full of things, heavy things that made it hard to breathe. She could just lean into him, and with her lips risk this steady friendship between them. These lips held such an importance, it would be a shame if she didn't use them. One way or another. And this way, the kissing way, was so easy compared to the other way. 

Blackwall busied himself with poking at the fire, sending the embers up and up until they faded into the night. Faeven was looking at him with such a heavy intensity that he knew, he just knew that those thoughts, that had her eyes flicking back and forth between his lips and the fire, were of him. He wasn't daft. He knew when a woman wanted him, but Faeven. They had been fast friends, and he didn't want to screw that up. Would this ruin them, if he allowed it? He wouldn't admit it but he wanted it too. Whatever she had planned with his lips. The air was so hot between them on the log, and not because of the fire. He opened his mouth to say something to her, but he felt her lips on his cheek. Oh. Though, she didn't pull away. Oh. Again.

"I want to kiss you." Faeven said to him, those soft lips brushing against his cheek as she spoke. 

He felt his whole body gravitate to her, slow and hesitant. His hand dared to make a nest within her hair. The other pulled her to him until her lips were close to his, so close their breath was one. Just an inch closer and it would be over for them. No turning back. Their lips were an inevitable catalyst begging to be set in motion. 

"Then kiss me." Blackwall said back to her, half wanting her to and half wishing she wouldn't, and his heart sputtered when she did. He didn't think she would, but this was Faeven and he didn't know her as well as he thought he did, because her lips were on his and he came around to it all, the initial surprise gave way to something that ached softly in his chest, all new and old at the same time. Peach fuzz and bare skin in a green room like some watercolor memory painted with their lips. He'd been here before, and he didn't want to leave this place again. 

[sasshole-for-rent]

For the DADWC: (Clinging) Close in the safe light of the fire for the characters of your choice!

In Love, Avoidance

For @dadrunkwriting

Paring: Faewall || Established Relationship || Fluff

Summary: Thom worries about the truth coming to light while being around the wardens. During a quiet moment of introspection, Faeven finds him.

They had been in Crestwood for a week. All these actual wardens around had Thom on edge. He was in awe and in constant fear he was going to slip up. Any one of these people could call him out, could know that he wasn't who he said he was at a moment's notice. Every time they called him over or asked him questions, his nerves wound tighter and tighter. One of these times those nerves were going to snap, and he knew that a fuck up was inevitable.

The wardens had gone away for the night, and it was just him and the sigh of summer wind through the wet canvas of the encampment. It had been drizzling throughout the day, and only let up around dusk. He poked his sword at the embers of the fire that had all but went out. It had been spitting its hot defiance despite the damp wood, along with the jovial and drunken faces of the rest of his lot, but that was a while ago. The night was lonely now with everyone sound asleep, and he was here with his taut nerves and thoughts that tried to drown him during even the smallest moment of peace. Well, he thought he was alone. He smelled the bright notes of citrus before her voice came from somewhere in the darkness near him.

"So are you practicing that bit about vigilance, in peace or whatever?" It was Faeven. Backwards as ever. She popped the last slice of orange into her mouth before chucking the peel into the embers.

"Heh. I guess I'm not that vigilant, if you can sneak up on me." He remembered earlier in the week when they first ran into that scouting party, and how bad his hands were shaking. There was a moment when Faeven remarked, almost without knowing she did until the words were out of her face. "Oh, there they are. Found 'em." It threw him back to their time back on the storm coast when they were doing anything but their job. He was consumed by it. Those memories and the weight of them. It was such an incredibly unexpected thing to say in that moment with the tense air of suspicion and undead swarming around them that he burst out laughing. Winning both a smile from Faeven and twin looks of concern from the warden scouts. 

Now, with the moon peaking through the clouds, Faeven was regarding him in that way she did. Her eyes were bright like the sun glaring off the sea. "You are. Usually," She scratched her chin, sniffed. Her nose was runny from the chill of the night. "You seem...inside yourself right now. What's eating at you?"

"Faeven, I…" He trailed off as a gust of a particular chill blown through them, rustling his paper thin soul. He felt so vulnerable, and why did she have to look at him like she could see the real man buried inside. And how could she stomach him if that was true? It wasn't fair, so he looked away. Vulnerability was not something that he was entirely used to. Usually when this sensation came over him like a black wave, he was alone. This time, she was here and her presence wasn't something he could ignore. He rubbed at his arms to try to force some warmth back into him. It didn't work. This damp chill seemed to soak further than skin deep. "It doesn't matter. It's late, you should sleep."

"So should you." Faeven was sitting beside him, her profile sharp from the moonlight above. She seemed to want to say more, almost like not knowing was too much for her, but she didn't pry. She gave him a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. He felt his hand turn over, and he felt her light touch trace the delicate arches of his fingertips, long since callused over. That finger of hers explored the deep lines set with his palm, lingering at the topmost line. He took her hand that lay still on her lap in his, explored the loops and the lines with the same quiet reverence as she did. His head rested against her forehead. Her hair smelled musty, not a bad smell. He liked the smell of earth. It was then when she decided to break the silence. "It has all been a tad much, hasn't it? Whenever you're ready...no rush." 

He nodded his thanks, his breath rustling her hair, before he straightened. "How about we go for a walk and take a dip? I know a place around 'ere with a nice little pond."

"I'd like that." She freed her hand from his and pulled a joint out of her pocket. She smiled around it at him. He lit it with a match from the matchbox he started carrying around for her,  in case she ever ran out. She took a small drag, blew the smoke away from him. "Let's get out of here."

They weren't going to sleep anytime soon. 

...