#revalas lavellan

[plisuu]

happy friday Sterling! For Revalas, "honestly, i’m always there. in my head. the scars on my body might’ve healed but i never really walked away from it." from the for the damaged prompts?

Ehehehe thank you for the food! Here's Revalas and Bull having a chat about the Tal-Vashoth :)

wc: 650 @dadrunkwriting

Revalas lay on the cold stone of the ramparts, watching the moonlight filter through his fingers, the backs of his hands crisscrossed with scars and the branches of Mythal in delicate brown ink.

“It’s not easy.”

His voice was soft, quiet in the darkness. He felt the sharp gaze of The Iron Bull on him. The Iron Bull. Another name. Another title. Another role.

Kothaari. Ben-Hassrath. Hissrad. Tal-Vashoth.

Revalas.

It wasn’t so different, was it? To take a different name, a different role, and to make it your own.

“But… it’s not that bad either.” He chuckled dryly, rolling to his side. “How’s the wound? Saar-qamek, yeah? That’s rough.”

Bull grunted a reply, and Revalas raised an eyebrow. ‘A courtesy,’ The Iron Bull had called it.

What he wouldn’t have given for a simple courtesy, back in Seheron. Not that it mattered now, with the tattoos of the Dalish across his face. He recalled, vaguely, how once as a child he had tried to use vitaar, to try and be like the Qunari warriors, and mindlessly let his hand drift over the pitted scars it left across his cheek.

“Could be worse,” he continued, filling the space with idle chatter. What could be worst than being Tal-Va-fucking-shoth? “Could be stuck in Par Vollen or something. Even the swill Cabot serves is better than some of the crap there.”

Bull only stared at him, expression unreadable, and Revalas swore at himself internally. He used to be good at this—good at talking, good at smoothing over conflict and settling the minds of those who suffered Asala-taar, those that needed soothing and reassurance, and to be re-assigned within the Qun. Kothaari. One who brings peace. ‘Ben-Hassrath. Glorified re-educator,’ he reminded himself. He tried not to think about it too hard.

“Listen,” he started over, pushing himself onto his elbows as he laid on his stomach. “You’re still you, no matter what you call yourself. You aren’t any different than you were yesterday, or the day before that. No offense, but you were basically living as Tal-Vashoth anyways.”

Was this helping? He wasn’t sure. The corner of Bull’s mouth twitched. That was a no, then. This was different, a lot different than filling a role. This was his life now. Their lives, now. Creators, he hadn’t thought about the Qun this hard in years, but there it all was, all of the information, all of the knowledge and the language and the culture and laws, all still filed away neatly.

“It doesn’t matter to me, at any rate. I know, big talk coming from a fellow Tal-Vashoth, but there’s still life after the Qun, you know. It’s not all murder and banditry. Promise.” He winked, and Bull sighed, shaking his head.

“I killed hundreds of Tal-Vashoth in Seheron,” he finally said. Revalas shrugged.

“And I punched Skinner in the face last night, if we’re making confessions.”

“Probably deserved it too, the bastard.”

Silence settled over them again, as Revalas watched Bull carefully, and Bull watched him just as carefully back.

“You know what I think?” Revalas continued. “I think, Qun or not, Tal-Vashoth or not, you’re still a damn good spy, and captain of the Inquisition’s mercenaries. Sure, Seheron fucked us up pretty bad, but we’re here now, doing other things, being people. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re a good man.”

“Thanks,” Bull eventually replied. His eye crinkled, the signs of a small smile creeping into his expression. “You’re not so bad yourself. You know, for a Tal-Vashoth.”

Revalas laughed as he stood, brushing gravel off the front of his breeches, and turned back towards the door the Herald’s Rest.

“See? There you go. Now, lets head back inside and get something to drink. I don’t think I can listen to Rocky tell the same story for the tenth time this week while sober.”

[plisuu]

Happy friday Sterling!!! last week I got some Revalas/Bull out of you, howabout some Revalas/Dorian this time? or not if you are stricken with a different inspiration. "i dunno who taught you that love comes with conditions and limitations, but mine doesn’t. not when it’s you." from the emotionally charged sentence starters.

Ooookay, man Kia you've been coming in clutch with the prompts.

This one kind of got away from me, I just started writing with a bolt of inspiration and ended up here ahahah

Here's something a bit more established for Revalas and Dorian :)

wc: 1.2k @dadrunkwriting

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Revalas swore the sound of Dorian’s ring against to bar-top was the only thing keeping him sane. Like a metronome, a steady beat against the backdrop of the busy chatter and clinking glasses and Bull shouting something behind them to a group of very drunk Chargers.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

The pace was increasing, just slightly, and Revalas finally peered up from where his gaze had been fixated on the gold that glinted against dark skin, just a few shades darker than his own. It looked good on him, on Dorian’s hands. Jewelry always did, and Revalas had spent more than his fair share of time haggling with merchants and using Leliana’s contacts to get this particular ring smuggled out of Par Vollen—a yellow-gold that stood stark and bright against the more muted, deeper golds of Tevinter jewelry.

“Yes yes, I love it,” Dorian muttered, waving his hand loosely, the word a slurred assurance that he did, in fact, realize Revalas was staring at it.

“That’s not… I’m not worried about that, vhenan,” Revalas chuckled in reply, leaning over to place a kiss on Dorian’s cheek, missing, and planting one on the mage’s collarbone instead. He could feel the warmth of his drink beginning to spread through his face, to the tips of his ears, and left his forehead resting against the perfumed linens and cool skin of Dorian’s shoulder. Patchouli and sandalwood, something smoky and a little spicy, something a little musky and human… He breathed in deeply before continuing, his voice muffled by the fabric. “You don’t even have to wear it. You could hate it for all I care, I just wanted you to have something so you’re reminded of me when you’re out,” he gestured vaguely, “doing whatever it is you do.”

“I’m always reminded of you, amatus,” Dorian said, his voice sounding a little distant, a little watery, still slurred and slow. Revalas heard the soft clink of gold against glass as he reached for his drink again. “It’s rather ridiculous, really.”

“What is?” Revalas looked back up, suddenly alert, an eyebrow raised, his hand darting out to catch Dorian’s wrist before more booze could hit his tongue. “What’s so ridiculous?”

Dorian chewed his lip and looked away. Krem and Skinner had begun to sing loudly, drowning out the music they were trying to sing to. Sera’s delighted squeal cut through the ruckus and Revalas felt the slow drip of a sloshed ale soaking into his pant leg from the bar.

None of it mattered though—they may as well have been alone in the Herald’s Rest as he gently pried the drink from Dorian’s hand and interlaced their fingers.

“Ar lath— I love you,” Revalas huffed. “Talk to me. I can see the smoke coming from your ears.”

“As astute and clever as ever,” Dorian replied, still turned away. He heaved a heavy sigh. “This seems… unwise.”

“What does? How so?”

There was silence between them. The chaos of the tavern had all but fallen away as Revalas watched the gears turning quietly, his gaze piercing, knowing exactly what Dorian meant but waiting for him to piece together the words to say it himself.

Dorian finally met his gaze, brows drawn in a way that he would have never allowed were he sober.

“Emotions are so… messy,” he finally said. “I never meant to let it get this far, you know.”

“But here we are, so now what?” Revalas pressed his lips to the back of Dorian’s hand. “It’s okay to be messy, Creators know Bull and I are just as bad.”

Dorian frowned. “Yes, but—”

“But you aren’t allowed to be? Why not?”

Revalas swore he could see the words turning over in Dorian’s head, the mental gymnastics he was putting himself through to try and justify his hesitance.

“Vishante Kaffas, you Ben-Hassrath are truly the worst,” he eventually snipped. “Perceptive asses, the lot of you. Yes, fine! Let’s make Dorian confess his feelings in the middle of the tavern, what fun! Surely he wants to share his deepest fears in public, or—no, wait—let’s make it in front of an audience! Of course!”

Hs voice cracked, and he pressed his palms into the scratched wood bar, staring at it as if trying to study a reflection that wasn’t there. Revalas brushed his thumb across Dorian’s cheek, unsurprised at the wetness he found there, and pulled Dorian to face him again. Grey eyes glittered with brimming tears, and Revalas wiped them away as best he could without smudging the khol that streaked down tanned cheeks.

“Dorian. Vhenan. You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Yes… I…” Dorian shook his head. “I simply hate that I care so much. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it, to receive so much… attention? When I don’t even do anything, when I have so little to offer but these petty, drunken outbursts.” He slumped over, defeated. “There. You’ve pried it out of me. May I have my drink back, now, if you're satisfied?”

“Vhenan.”

The scrape of wooden stools across the floor seemed deafening in comparison to their conversation, but Revalas knew it was all drowned in the sea of late-night drunken chaos as he scooted himself closer to Dorian and pulled him into his arms. It was awkward, and likely an awkward sight, but Revalas held him tightly, as if his grip could quell his partner’s hitching, uneven breaths.

“Vhenan, you don’t need to do anything. You’re allowed to just care. Hell, it’s really not like Bull and I are any more practiced at this. We don’t even have relationships under the Qun.” He sighed, kissing the top of Dorian’s head, the styling oils tingling his lips. “I think about you constantly, and I don’t do anything but drag feelings out of you kicking and screaming, but you wouldn’t say the same about me, that I’m not allowed to care, right?”

“You shouldn’t” Dorian muttered, and Revalas hugged him harder, just uncomfortably so, so that he heard the air whoosh out of Dorian’s lungs.

“That’s stupid. You’re too smart to say stupid things like that. This isn’t conditional. There’s no rule that says any of us have to do anything.”

There was a long pause while Dorian finally hugged him back, fists clutching the back of Revalas’s shirt and face buried in his neck, until his shaking subsided and his breathing settled.

“I… I do like the ring.” he eventually said, pulling away. His eyes were puffy and red, but the shimmer of tears was replaced with a glint of his usual sarcastic mirth. “It’s rather fetching on me, don’t you think?”

Revalas kissed his hand with a smile.

“Ar lath. Yes, vhenan. Absolutely stunning. I bet you could even charm the pants off a Qunari with your fashionable jewelry alone. No one would even notice your dashing good looks.”

Dorian flashed him a smile before tipping his drink back and draining the glass.

“Ah, and don’t forget my unmatchable wit and irritable charm.”

“Oh, Creators, I don’t think I could if I tried.”

[plisuu]

Prompt information for @dadrunkwriting, among other things :)

Please send the full prompt (not just a number!) and pairing or character in your ask!

This Week:

Connor x Solas: 101 Ways to Say “I Love You” With Actions For the Damaged Hand Holding Pillow Talk Reasons to Cup a Face Unreal Unearth Yearning - NSFW Subtle Smut

Characters and Pairings:

My OCs:

Connor Trevelyan - Inquisitor, ex-templar, ex-tranquil, and mage. Connor is a generally stoic individual with a strong sense of duty. He has fairly anti-templar views that a re muddled by his Chantry upbringing. He's a bit dry, a bit grumpy, full of angst and internal conflict, and a total softie under all the armor. Champion spec. Close friends with Solas, Vivienne, Josephine, and Cole. Cullen rivalry/romance, Solas romance. Hinge/V poly. ㅤㅤ ㅤ Revalas Lavellan - Tal Vashoth and ex Ben-Hassarath, Revalas was raised under the Qun from infancy. After fleeing Seheron in a crisis of identity, he ended up in the Free Marches where he joined clan Lavellan and fully adopted Dalish beliefs. He works for the Inquisition as an agent under Leliana and never seems to take anything seriously. Reaver spec. Friends with the Chargers and Harding. Kitchen table poly.

Main OC Pairings:

Connor x Cullen - twin-flame, awkward idiots, rivals to begrudging co-workers to friends to lovers to exes to friends to lovers Connor x Solas - queerplatonic/romantic, deep emotional intimacy Connor x Bull - FWBs, kink-centric dynamic, "it's so complicated they outright refuse to think about the implications of their feelings" (it's not complicated, they're just stubborn) - Revalas x Bull - Two Tal-Vashoth walk into a bar but the bar is romantic feelings Revalas x Dorian - They're in looOOoOOoOoOooooove xoxo Revalas x Krem x Harding - If they're gonna get stuck on missions together all the time they may as well kiss about it

Other Pairings:

Cassandra x Solas Garrett Hawke x Cullen Garrett Hawke x Varric

Prompt Masterlist:

DA Inspired:

Codex Entry prompts DA Inspired Dialogue prompts

Angst:

Angsty Poem Prompts Betrayal One-liners Dash of Angst Dialogue Dramatic and Protective Emotionally Charged For the Damaged Angst prompts Hidden Injury prompts Hit ‘Em Where it Hurts Angst Prompts I Said Sorry Patching Up Wounds Protective prompts Secrets prompts Suspense prompts Taunting

Fluff/Comfort/Love:

100 Compliments 100 Different Kisses 101 Ways to Say “I Love You” With Actions 21 I love You's Budding Romance Domestic Fluff prompts Enemies to Friends to Lovers Fluffy Dialogue prompts F. Scott Fitzgerald prompts Hand in Hand Hands and Touch Hand Holding Height-Difference prompts Intimacy prompts Little Domestic prompts Love Confessions More Kisses Noticing/Being Noticed Oblivious Idiots in Love Physical Intimacy Pillow Talk Pining prompts Reasons to Cup a Face Soft & Sweet Sentence Starters Super Soft Intimacy Touches (both sfw & nsfw) Touching What are We Will They, Won’t They Yearning

Smut:

100 Smut prompts NSFW prompts Subtle Smut

Whump (blanket tw: torture, abuse):

101 Quick Whump Prompts 30 Very Specific Whump Prompts Angry Whumpee Difficult Recovery Prompts Make Them Kneel (tw: graphic violence) Rethink What They Said Quotes Tarot Inspired

Misc. Collections:

200 Writing prompts Hozier Lyrics Hozier Lyrics (Unreal Unearth) Micro-story starters Non-Verbal Prompts Random Sentence Starters A list of a list of prompts