You can call me shin (or honestly whatever works lol)- 30s - Veilguard lover
In the silence that followed the fight's end, the sound of someone's knees hitting the ground rang loud. Lucanis whipped around and felt Spite's wings burst from his back before he'd ever registered what he was seeing. They carried him to Rook's side just as she doubled over, one hand clenched into a fist in the Rivaini sand and the other clutching her abdomen. He braced her against his shoulder and peeled back her bloody fingers enough to peek at the wound—a puncture, not large but deep.
"Shit fuck bitch-ass motherfucker," she spat. She groaned as she rocked back and forth in an attempt to control the pain. Taash ran up and crouched on her other side, already pulling a healing potion from their pack as a stream of Elvhen fell from Rook's lips. More expletives, Lucanis presumed.
"Aren't Crows supposed to be stoic about pain?" Taash asked.
"I was never very good at that," Rook panted.
She sat back on her heels and accepted the potion bottle from Taash. After drinking it down, she dropped her head back, squinting into the bright sun and breathing heavily.
"We should get you to a healer," Lucanis said.
Rook shook her head. "Just give me a minute."
He frowned. "You could have internal damage."
"I don't."
"You can't know for sure."
She lifted her head and fixed him with a quizzical look. "Didn't you do organ training?"
His fluency in the trade language rarely failed him, but it did happen occasionally. "No?"
"What the hell is organ training?" Taash asked.
Rook sighed. "In my House, we have this healer, and he has these... well, they kind of look like ice picks. He stabs you in each major organ and explains what you're feeling before he heals you."
It did sound like something Viago would come up with. Lucanis took a moment to be grateful that he'd never shared that particular training regimen with Caterina.
"That's messed up," Taash said.
"Useful though." Rook held out a hand to each of them. "Help me up."
She grimaced as they pulled her to her feet and let loose another torrent of curses as she jumped up and down and swung her arms. But when she was done, she nodded, gathered up her gear, and pointed down the beach.
"Let's keep going."
As they watched her walk off, Lucanis raised an eyebrow at Taash. "Still want to be a Crow?"
"Sure," Taash replied. "Maybe not Rook’s House though.”
Lucanis chuckled. "Wise choice."
Okay I think I am going to skip making my little graphic things for now bc I am very sleepy and obviously already pretty behind lol
I think my thoughts were going in a vaguely nature/nurture direction, but they wandered off I'm pretty sure =P
I am SCREAMING the pins @davrinsleftpectoral and I got commissioned by Jollysaw over on Instagram came in this week and look at them??? 😭🥰 they’re so cute I’m crying
Turvi being a little cutie patoodie bugging Neve while she’s working???
Zalan and Harding being my beautiful idiots in love???
Varric with his book sword and shield???
Little Levellan with her solas wolf plushie????
A one-shot for day 3 of Davrin's week organized by @datvcompanionweeks, inspired vaguely by the prompt "the calling." I'll post it on AO3 too.
Summary: Warden Rook is overthinking what the changes happening to the blight mean for the grey wardens. Davrin is happy to help her stop overthinking and turn her brain off. This is rated Explicit, there's smut in here (but also fluff).
The courtyard was dark as Rook stepped out of the Lighthouse library, closing the door carefully and silently behind her not to bother those of her team who’d managed to fall asleep.
It must be past midnight, whether real or created by the Lighthouse as if the place tried to encourage them to rest and keep normal hours. Most of her team didn’t seem too good at it, though.
There was light coming out of Bellara’s room and the sound of her tinkering. She might not even have noticed the passing of time, or perhaps there was too much in her head to sleep too. Rook was tempted to go and remind Bellara to rest, but he didn’t want her to worry about why wasn’t she sleeping either. Harding’s room was empty, Rook knew she was in Taash’s, and so she took the stairs next to that room instead of Bellara’s, trying to remain unseen.
There was also light coming from Neve’s room, and Rook knew if she walked inside, she’d find the detective reviewing her notes. She wasn’t sure what was Lucanis doing, but she could bet all her savings he was awake too, and she could smell coffee brewing in the kitchen even with the door closed.
Poor Lighthouse. Creating quiet, beautiful nights just for most of them not to sleep anyway.
“Whatever it takes, Rook,” Davrin said solemnly. A heavy silence hung over the Lighthouse meeting table and the assembled Veilguard there.
“Okay! I get it!” Rook finally cracked in annoyance, throwing their hands into the air. Davrin’s tone was undermined by his satisfied grin. And the barely concealed snickering of everyone else. “I. Get. It! I say it too much!”
“Even Johanna’s noticed,” Emmrich added wryly. Rook shot him a look of betrayal.
“Well then make your move,” Davrin taunted.
“Look, it's hard. There's a strategy.” Davrin leaned in to study the board with Rook.
“Rook, it's checkers,” Davrin answered.
for @datvcompanionweeks #davrinweek2025 day 2: eyes of an eagle, roar of a lion, heart of a halla
The silence of the Lighthouse was almost unbearable after the screams and clash of steel and stone of Weisshaupt.
It felt like half of those screams had been his own, if his sore throat was any indicator. Whether it was yelling for the others to duck or climb, or snapping out commands to his fellow Wardens, Davrin had made himself known. He'd slammed back darkspawn, sunk his blade into corrupted bodies, and pushed back the threat with everything he had. That had been the time to pull out every trick and tool. No holding back. Neither for himself nor Assan, this moment, this seige, was the real test that both of them had been training for. With Assan scouting from above to guide them through the chaos and Davrin charging forward to make a clear path, they'd made a truly astonishing team. If it weren't surrounded by the fall of the Grey Warden's longest lasting fortress and home, it would have been an impressive tale all by itself.
And when the time had come to make the ultimate sacrifice—to say goodbye to Rook, the team, and Assan—he'd stepped forward without hesitation.
And yet... here he stood. In his room in the Lighthouse, smeared with blood and gore, drenched in sweat and grime.
Here he stood alive.
His mind played back the scenes over and over, examining each detail as if it might present him with a reason as to why it hadn't worked. Why he hadn't died. Why his sacrifice, his life, wasn't enough.
Everyone was thankful, of course. But he felt wrong. Something was wrong.
Was it him? He stared at his hands. He didn't feel different. There had never been anything special about him as a Grey Warden. Davrin was brave, and dutiful, and good at the hunt. He should have died alongside the archdemon.
And that had been an archdemon. No blighted dragon could be that large, that powerful. The correct details were there--the overwhelming Calling washing over them all like wave after wave, drowning every Warden in a deep, black ocean. Wings wider than the horizon, blotting out all light with their spread. A roar that shook the courage out of bones, only to replace it with a deep, dreadful fear. And fire. So much fire.
And through it all, he'd stepped forward. To die, so others might live. To pave the pathway to victory in their war against the Evanuris.
Just one more way Ghilan'nain continued to make a mockery out of everything he held dear.
Davrin slouched into his chair, rubbing tiredly at his face. The heels of his hands pressed hard into his eyes as spots began to flare across his inky black vision.
It still didn't erase the sharpness with which he saw every moment leading up to what should have been his final breath.
How the archdemon lay, half dead and limp. The sky, mottled black, but with a slight break in the clouds to allow a sliver of light in. The hope blooming across the faces of Wardens, some so far away it should have been impossible to see, but somehow, his eyes had caught their relief and joy in that moment.
The crunch as his sword broke through dragon bone and killed an archdemon.
But he was still alive. Why? How? For what reason?
What did he do wrong?
There was a coo from his right. A soft question of sorts.
"Not now, boy." His voice was deep, rough. Sharper than he'd meant, but still not cruel. It took on a tired edge as he continued, "I don't have any food."
There was no coo this time, but instead, a determined nudge to his knee. Dropping his hands from his eyes, Davrin finally looked down, a stronger reprimand on the tip of his tongue.
His words froze in his mouth.
Assan backed up a half step, wings held uncertainly to his sides, ears back and head low as he nudged a gingerwort truffle towards Davrin. Those big eyes, sky blue and usually so bright, flick from the plant to Davrin and back as he cooed again, softly.
If he didn't know better, he'd say the griffon was trying to comfort him with a snack.
Davrin looked down at the truffle, then up at the bird. "I really look that bad, huh?"
No coo this time, Assan instead gently stepping forward to rest his head on Davrin's knee. An awkward, throaty rumble began to pick up throughout the room. As the wheezy griffon purr grew, talons scraped against the stone in a quiet knead. Blue eyes continued to stare up at him, searching him as much as he searched them.
Tentatively, Davrin rested his hand atop Assan's head and watched the griffon's eyes flutter shut and heard the purrs increase. A smile tugged his lips up. It was hard to stay too angry when a ball of fur and feathers purred at you.
"Looks like we've just got each other."
I don’t think Viago would want to be called daddy in bed. My king? Possibly. Based on what I’ve read about his character. Yes, my Talon? Oh absolutely.
Correct. Correct. 100%.
He was going to murder her.
He appreciates he says it a lot, but truly, he was going to kill her.
Actually, he was going to kill them both.
Teia and Lilya were having far too much fun in bed with him in the middle, at his expense, with none of the pleasure.
Lilya was laughing so hard her entire body had turned a flattering shade of pink, snorting inelegantly, pausing and then laughing even harder. Teia was clutching her sides, eyes squeezed shut as she practically wheezed.
“This is really quite off-putting,” he remarked, frown set in place as he sat up, pulling the sheets up around his waist.
“Ahh no no no,” Teia cooed, grinning widely and crawling up to meet him. “No, it is not off-putting at all… Papi.”
The two women cawed and fell back onto the bed and held each other’s hands as they laughed, the two idiots sharing one damned brain cell. They were all enjoying the evening when Lilya mentioned how one of the Crows asked if she ever called Viago daddy in bed, and the horrified expression on his face was enough to cause the two to screech incessantly for the last 20 minutes.
Daddy. Papi. Father. Papa. Old Man.
Each one was worse than the last, a mixture of revulsion and terror and just the… no… of it all.
“That’s it. Both of you, out, out of my chambers,” he groused, eyebrows deeply furrowed as he pointed to the door. The two women locked eyes and immediately understood what they needed to do.
“Oh no, do not be like that, my Lord,” Teia purred, running up her hand from his stomach to his chest, one finger twirling at the point of his beard. “Please do not send us away, my King.”
A little twitch in his jaw was all the women need to see to know that he was listening.
Lilya prowled up from the foot of the bed, sitting astride on his thigh, fingers lightly massaging at his hip bone- tracing the delicious v-line that she always loved to touch. “No, we’ll be good. Won’t we Teia? We’ll be so good, we promise. My Talon.”
She didn’t even have time to react, the man reaching over to kiss her so deeply, she almost forgot she could still breathe through her nose. Teia chuckled and Lilya sent her a wink and Viago groaned.
He would still kill them.
But later. Much later.
Preferably after their voices were both hoarse from overuse and could no longer torment him. Damned women.
Oooo.... my writing isn't the best right now but I want to play. Maybe this will get me back into the swing of things.
NSFW Warden Rook x Viago under the cut
Davrin Week Day 3: The Joining/The Calling + Whatever it Takes
Thank you @datvcompanionweeks for the event!
(Also, Thursday Bangers hosted by @woundedsoul12: Mercy by Shawn Mendes - I'm prepared to sacrifice my life // I would gladly do it twice. Thank you @blackwall-my-tiny-husband for the tag!)
This is not the first time Davrin has stared down death.
There was a moment, at his joining, when the light caught the metallic sheen of the chalice and was swallowed by the dark questionable liquid within, when Warden Ninthia caught his eye - the Volunteer, not blighted, not conscripted - and told him clearly “This is your death, one way or another. Be sure.”
He was sure.
This is not the first time Davrin has stared down death. The Archdemon at Weisshaupt. The greatest honor and greatest horror a Warden can face. Davrin accepted it would be his, the final blow, the final vessel, the light that would cleave the darkness and allow the world to march on.
He was sure. Fate was not.
This is not the first time Davrin faced down death. It is not the first time he has lived.
That wasn't how the story was meant to go. Davrin is left adrift. Unsure. Faced with the impossible impossibility of living.
One way or another. If not a blaze of glory, then it will be a slow dimming descent. But maybe the in between would be worth the inglorious finale. The glow of friendship and possibility of love and growing old with a griffon and isn't that a nice dream?
But it is Fate delayed, not Fate avoided. Tearstone Island. Ghilan’nain the Guide, the Mother of Halla, the Maker of Monsters. Rook is bound, suspended, going down swinging and Lucanis is trapped, but trying, cutting his way free and third time's the charm isn't it?
They just need time.
And Davrin has an opening.
One way or another. Whatever it takes.
This is not the first time Davrin has stared down death.
And he is sure.
thank you to @datvcompanionweeks for hosting this amazing character week event, here’s another prequel piece to my Davrin x Bellara post game save Davrin so everyone lives thing the other pieces of which can be found HERE and HERE, I’ve been stuck half way through day 1 and 2 but I had this one ready to go lol
Davrin clenched his fists, following after Zalan, the others hot on their heels. It couldn’t be happening, she had been right there, right in front of him. Zalan had been right there. Somehow neither of them had managed to snag Bellara’s arm as the blight tendril shot past. How had he not reacted in time? Now she was gone— taken. But Rook was stalking to the elevator, his own rage echoed on the crow’s face.
“We stop the ritual and then we get our friend back.” Zalan was saying and Davrin nodded, quick and sharp. He would not leave Bellara to that monster.
“Whatever it takes.” He added, jaw tight with equal parts worry and fury. They couldn’t let Elger’nan have her. He wouldn’t allow it. They just had to fight this battle and then he’d save her, he’d bring her back.
//
Bellara wasn’t sure she knew what the world was anymore. It felt like floating, in a dead space where everything existed and nothing existed all at once. She told the whispers anything it wanted to hear, she didn’t have a choice. Elger’nan taking and taking from her brain, scraping it raw until it bled.
I Promise
Davrin Appreciation Week 2025, thank you @datvcompanionweeks on Tumblr for organizing this.
Day 3 Prompt: the Joining/the Calling. Whatever it takes.
Davrin looked up from his back, his brow creasing at Rook’s pensive expression. He closed his pack and crossed the room to take his wife in his arms. “Adder, what’s bothering you?” he asked.
“I’ve just got a bad feeling about this, Davrin,” Rook sighed as she looked up at him. She felt him press his forehead against her own. His fingers touched the serpent shaped scar on her face.
He chuckled softly, his brown eyes meeting her hazel. “I’ll be with Greta and Vesta. Plus I’ll have Assan at my back.” His eyes flickered towards the smaller room of theirs where Assan lay curled on their daughter’s bed with the little girl.
“I trust them, I trust Assan, I trust you,” Rook told him. “You’re all experienced. I just can’t shake the feeling that something might happen.”
Davrin took both her hands in his. “You and I, we’ve got that future we planned together to live. I’ll be back, Adder. I promise.”
Oh I can’t wait to read this!!!!!
Late to the Party but I wrote a little Karaas/Davrin Kid fic for @datvcompanionweeks Davrin week 2025. Enjoy!
Rook had never thought much about children. He’d never really had the chance to be a child himself. His magic had manifested early, and all the soft memories of his Tama and whatever life had been like with her had been wiped away by Avraad’s brutal hand. So finding himself saddle with a child had been…unnerving to say the least.
Today’s offering for @datvcompanionweeks #davrinweek2025!
I experiment with style and prose a lot during these weeks, and this one is no different, so I’m not exactly sure what I was doing here. But I am absolutely loving getting to write Davrin each day!
Day Two: Eyes of an Eagle, Roar of a Lion, Heart of Halla
Davrin is a study in contradictions. His baritone voice can fill a room, commanding attention as assuredly as anything can. Brash. Forceful. A lion’s roar, especially in battle. But with his friends, or comrades, the edges of it soften. The timbre becomes warm, easy, almost lazy.
Though, she supposes, lions aren’t lacking for laziness either when the urge strikes.
Dynamic between a Lucanis who thinks of himself as nothing more than a tool or a weapon to be used who thinks of Rook as the hand he trusts to wield him and a Rook who wants him by their side eye to eye and would be horrified if Lucanis were to say anything about how he sees himself out loud.
Rook looks at Lucanis and sees their best friend. Their other half. Someone who they have seen at his worse and love him. Someone who they want the best for. Someone who they want to see happy and fed and well-rested and safe.
And Lucanis looks at them and sees someone who saved him. Someone he trusts. Someone who he trusts won't let him rust or go dull.
And he knows that Rook cares about him and that he's a favored tool (they don't see him as a tool his sense of self worth wasn't great before getting bioshocked) and so maybe when he stops being of use they'll put him on the mantle instead of throwing him away.
Again, if Lucanis ever voiced any of this Rook's face would fall and they'd be sad both that he sees himself that way and that he sees them that way.
Thanks for the tag @fenrelmercar ❤️❤️❤️
RULES: Pick one of your ships and name 5 tropes that apply to them. For each trope, explain why it fits—not just in terms of dynamics, but what it reveals about your blorbos as characters. Think of it as both ship analysis and character dissection.
Soft tagging @cute-ellyna @serensama @whispersleo @mythals-whore @davrinsleftpectoral @jenn2d2 @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @thebarghestiest @julie-spirit-finn @vorchagirl
Fated love - from the moment they meet they can feel the magnetic pull to each other. An attraction they ignore but the longing is always there. Like they were destined
Boss and employee relationship - he's the leader and she's his right hand. Plus he blushes so cute when she calls him boss
Forbidden love - he's the Divine. She's a common street rat. What more could go wrong?
Second chance - he sent her away with Varric after Nessus. Broke her heart when she could not stay. But in the end, she chose to forgive
Secret identity - she will fight to keep his other life safe. Even at the cost of being his dirty little secret
Haha I'm a day earlier this week!!
Thanks so much to @davrinsleftpectoral for hosting this week! Thanks as always to @hedwigoprah for the game and thank you @blackwall-my-tiny-husband for the tag :D
Tagging @thedissonantverses, @chaosherald, @thecraftybaroness, @antivan-sprig, @therivercrow, @basedonconjecture, and anyone else who wants to do it! If you've done it already, let me know I wanna see!!
Definition (noun): The indistinct sound of people whispering/whispering, murmuring, or rustling
Little post-Veilguard walk in the woods under the cut! Wanted to focus on the idea of continuing adventures together, and had to include Davrin for Davrin week <3
I took a few fic requests for Davrin Week because I can in fact write about someone other than my Rook and Lucanis! (Sort of. They're still there.) This request was from @brightbreezeblog, who asked for Davrin's first impression of the Cantori Diamond and the Crows.
-------
Davrin had barely had a chance to come to terms with riding in a flying boat in the Fade before he was jumping out and jogging beside Rook toward another eluvian, this time to Treviso. Which was apparently Rook's home if the other assassin on the team was to be believed.
"I didn't realize you were a Crow," he said as they pounded up another bridge over nothing.
She shot him a surprised look. "You didn't?"
He gestured toward her—her nondescript armor, the bow she'd used as effectively as her daggers, her pale, freckled skin. "You don't exactly look the part."
"I'm adopted," she said drily.
