#blackwall x female inquisitor

[wildxtreasures]

starlight in your blue eyes

Rating: Gen

Ship: Blackwall/Female Lavellan (Mage)

tw: drinking

ya'll i love the pining

Summary

After defeating the Fereldan Frostback, Blackwall joins the team - Iron Bull, Dorian, and Inquisitor Vi'era - for a few drinks. He is continuously confronted with his feelings for the Inquisitor and that she sees him the same way. But it cannot be. And yet, he's coming closer and closer to just following his heart. or; the heart wants who it want.

Read starlight in your blue eyes, here.

[mx-pastelwriting]

DA HC - Celebrating Your Anniversary

Dragon Age x GN! Reader

Summary: How they would celebrate your anniversary.

Warnings: Established Relationship, Fluff, Anniversary, Kissing, Dates, Fancy Dinners, Camping

Characters: Solas, Varric Tethras, Cullen Rutherford, Iron Bull, Thom Ranier (Blackwall), Lucanis Dellamorte, Emmrich Volkarin, Lace Harding

- Didn't proofread much. I just slammed them into three grammar checkers, so have fun!

Solas

- Solas would remember your anniversary, but even if he didn't, you wouldn't know, as he makes every day with you feel as if it were your anniversary. Being his, finally his, he makes sure you know he has only eyes for you. Making sure you feel that he is yours, you are his.

- Yearly anniversaries, but monthly anniversaries, are not off the table. Taking the yearly dates more seriously, with monthly being a day of finding little surprises in places that are common to you. Leaving your favorite things in those spots, seeing as his face is plastered with a huge smile once you bring the gifts to his attention when finding them.

- The yearly anniversaries would be him worshiping you like a god, more than usual, of course. Almost refuses to have you lift a finger as he fills the day with surprises. Waking to the room being filled with glowing magic, spelling out your name and words of love, with the afternoon being filled with scenic views with shows of ancient elven magic. Ending the day with dinner and a slow dance, holding your body close, warming more than your cheeks, before playing a few songs that he composed on the piano, inspired heavily by his love for you.

- Never will he miss your anniversary but has a chance of forgetting it. In his mind, doing things with a bit of extra love to make it up to you out of guilt does things with extra love and care. Though with enough time or love, you could get the confession of his slip of the mind, knowing he couldn't lie when it comes to you.

- Making the days of your anniversary feel like they last forever; once Solas starts, he can't bear to stop loving your smile. Swearing the smile you wear once that date comes around is different, as much as you plead for him to let you spoil him back. Even when giving in to your pleas, he always finds a way to spoil you right back just to see that smile.

Setting down a plate of Orlesian frilly cakes in front of Solas, making him look up from his notes with pointed ears twitching. Greeted lovingly by a pair of violet eyes, seeing as Solas's eyes crease from the smile that stretched across his lips.

With a swift action, his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you in. Body pressed against his chest, thanking you with kisses that tickled your skin, making you squirm in his hold. Stopping the attack, watching him pull something from under his notes, Solas's eyes watched closely as your face lit up at his gift. Soaking in the smile that lined your lips, hoping it would last forever.

-

Varric Tethras

- Most of the time he would remember it's your anniversary, joking about it in bed, cuddled up warmly if he had remembered what day it was. Dances around the answer if he had forgotten, but eventually, you'd get it out of him that he did forget with a reminder it was only morning, and he has the whole day to make you forget he ever did.

- Celebrate your yearly and monthly anniversaries, though monthly ones are more spotty in celebration. Knowing if he remembers those when finding papers around the place that tell short stories of all the times he found himself falling in love with you all over again.

- Yearly anniversaries would be Varric trying his best to be the perfect man, with halfway through the day he gives up going back to being the man you love instead of an overly romantic guy that takes you to fancy restaurants. When all you want is to just be with him drinking and have Varric chew off your ear with stories that you’ve heard millions of times, but you’d never tell him that.

- Has missed your anniversary at least once since you've been together. A day filled with apologies and his mood being a bit down, trying his best to make it up to you. Gifting you things over the day. Little things that he says remind him of you, giving you a first read of your favorite book series of his, and rare home-cooked dinners.

- Varric is always sweet on you, even after your anniversary. The tender moments don't stop, though the moments are now filled with more jokes than before he loves you just as much as he does during your anniversary, now with more jokes filling those moments.

Watching Varric adoring every smile and face scrunch he pulled while telling you a story he's told you a hundred times, never telling him that fact, though, taking it as an opportunity to just watch him.

Soaking in his mere existence, every smile, frown, and furrow of his brow. Every move makes your mind melt as you're reminded why you feel head over heels for the man. That is until he catches you staring, breaking your longing stare with a charming kiss on the cheek.

-

Cullen Rutherford

- Very spotty when it comes to remembering it's your anniversary, but you give him grace, as most of the time he has a lot on his plate. Reminding him gently every morning on that date it's your anniversary, with a quick curse to himself, he tries to play it off just to panic for the rest of the morning trying to think and plan something for that day.

- Cause of his busy schedule, he prefers to celebrate yearly, but if he's reminded, a gift might end up on your desk or nightstand. Even with the yearly dates, he still has to do some work but tries to plan around it days before if he remembers days before.

- Once Cullen's done with work, he asks shyly for you to dress nicely; that is unless you have something for him once he comes out of his office. Then he stays in the whole night. But if you don't, he takes you away riding on a horse with the sunset in the background, just to arrive at the most breathtaking place. Having packed wine and cheese, wanting to share the sunset with you, telling you of how it reminded him of you and the first night he held you close.

- Having missed your anniversary from being on the battlefield commanding an army or locked away in his office, stumped with letters to write. Walking into the office to find him stressed or just passed out on the desk, ink staining his face when you wake him. Dragging him to bed, letting the commander get some sleep before spoiling him as you remind him what day it is, queuing the flood of apologies.

- The celebration of your anniversary would only last a day and a half, with Cullen being busy and all; he still tries to make up for the lost time from work. Stealing kisses from you the next day, along with leaving little letters or gifts he tucked away in your pockets early in the morning, to then get all shy when you mention them.

Walking into Cullen's office, seeing as he was noise-deep into writing a letter, someone who was not you having the note he had written to you in hand.

Spooking the commander as you sat atop the desk corner, meeting his amber eyes, watch and the rush of surprise disappear before softening at the sight of you—that is until he sees that piece of paper in your hand. Cullen's cheeks flash red as he looks off to the side, laughing nervously, having written the letter in a moment of passion. Needing a few glasses of drinks to get those words out of him without him stuttering and getting all blushy.

-

Iron Bull

- Qunari don't have anniversaries, so he would remember, as he doesn't practice or have a deep grasp on the celebration. Only having you to learn about it and to even start celebrating it. Even after that, he tries to remember wanting to see you smile.

- Would start either monthly or yearly depending on your preference, but monthlies are a good start, letting him have practice on what to do and what not to do and say. Gets the hang of the physical part of surprising, not so much on the gift-giving, bringing you parts of a dragon or even the whole thing to display somewhere, swearing to yourself if he didn't have horns, he'd be a cat.

- For the first few anniversaries, you would be planning until one day, months before the date, he asked to plan that year. Holding out hope, it wasn't a day of fighting wild beasts he thought were cool, but he surprised you with a night filled with breathtaking views only seen at night and creatures that light up in the darkness of the night. Ending the event at his favorite place to cool off, a hidden-away spring where bugs and creatures glowed around, thriving alongside your love for the bull.

- Misses your anniversary in the start, giving the hunk of a man some grace as this is new to him, coming from a culture that they don't even know who they are related to. Gently reminding the man he would be apologetic, of course, then for the rest of the day, having asked Krem what to do, he tells Bull to make it up to you. Surprising you with flowers and some gifts, with a shower of kisses and charming compliments to resolve everything.

- Learns from you how long the celebration lasts; whether for a day or a week, he goes along with you, not minding even if you want the whole year to feel like it's your anniversary. Over time, he'll read you; every morning when you wake up with a certain smile on your face, he'd know it's another day of celebration, also knowing he'd have to get up soon to make you breakfast in bed only to eat most of it once cuddled back up with you in bed.

Smiling as you watch, Bull sticks another spoonful of breakfast that he made for you that morning into his mouth, then chews happily before continuing with his stories of the time his crew killed a beast.

Hand resting atop your hand as the hunk of a bull sat in your shared bed next to you, not minding at all as he ate from the plate that was meant for you. Loving how he enjoys the days of your anniversary, but for you, it's days of adoring him as he makes the cutest person of himself without even knowing it.

-

Thom Ranier (Blackwall)

- Would remember it every year. Starting from the night before, being extra gushy and lovey-dovey, holding you close in bed as you both fall asleep. When waking on the day, he pulls out all the stops, making every anniversary a memorable one.

- Celebration only yearly; as much as the man loves you, he feels like monthly anniversaries are too childish. Also, monthly anniversaries made him feel as if the relationship wouldn't last long, needing to celebrate yearly to feel that your relationship would last for the years to come.

- Lets you sleep in, cuddling you before getting up to make breakfast, then bringing it to you in bed before setting up the horses to take you both to a place only he knew. Being in a different place every anniversary, never having seen him with it through the year, filled with entries of times you took his breath away. Always surprises you with a diary he kept for that year. Never having seen him with it through the year, filled with entries of times you took his breath away. It was a hefty book.

- Never misses your anniversary, always wanting to be by your side, always finding moments to write down in his anniversary diary. Being content in his mind, there would never be a possibility for him to miss that date.

- As long as he can pull surprises out of his pocket. Having planned the days out months in advance, making sure every day had a new surprise or special moment to be made into a memory.

Thom's warm hand cupped your cheek as he gazed into your eyes, lips inches from each other yearning to meet. Minutes before, having given you his forest memories of you—how the sun rested warmly on your skin, the way your eyes glow in the ray of the light.

Being only a small exert from the diary, having to close it at his request. Wanting you to read it later, needing this memory to be real instead of written down in a book for later.

-

Lucanis Dellamorte

- Always remembering it's your anniversary, holding them close to his heart as it's the first time he gets to share that special celebration with anyone. Refusing to fuck it up in any way and also having Spite to remind him every hour as the date nears.

- Early in the relationship, he celebrates your anniversary every month; if it weren't for not wanting to come off too much, he would celebrate every week or day. Really overworks himself wanting to show you every bit of love he has for you on those days. Even if you ask him to relax, a gift would do the same good; he'd never stop going all out for your yearly.

- Taking up a lot of contracts in advance, saving up for your yearly anniversary, taking you away on vacation to anywhere you wanted to go—even if it's just only the two of you for miles, he makes it happen. Working overtime to plan what fun things to do, where to buy your favorite things, and what gifts to get you, with Spite pitching in with a yell of what he wanted to get you.

- Heart drops into his stomach if he missed your anniversary; even with your reassurance that it was okay, it's not to him. Devastated at the thought of having missed the one special day he gets to celebrate the love he had for you in full, for the first person he'd ever been in a relationship with. Finally talking him down, telling the distressed man you would be happy even if he gave you a flower from the garden outside; all you want on that day is him; nothing else matters.

- For what he has planned, he makes sure the celebration lasts for days; even when running out of ideas on the tenth day, Spite is there, giving him more. The two are a menace when putting their heads together. Starting out romantic after the date, then turning into passion, and lastly, hunger.

Heat prickles through your cheeks as Lucanis's lips soften against yours. Minutes ago, admiring the view of the city lights, then feeling a warm hand planted underneath your shin, you were gently guided right into Lucanis's lips.

Accepting the smooth action, kissing him back, feeling through the kiss as he smiled before moving once again. The same hand trailing up, cupping your cheek with lips rough with passion. Doing the same hands combing through his hair as you dive into his kiss, swearing you could hear Spite faintly.

-

Emmrich Volkarin

- Definitely remembers it, your anniversary, you being the dearest thing to his heart; that date means so much to him, he could never forget it. Planning months in advance, even asking Manfred his opinion from time to time on decisions, wanting every detail of the date to be to die for.

- Would be open to a monthly celebration but has a bit more taste for a yearly anniversary, being able to make everything feel more extraordinary. Worries that the monthly anniversary would dull his yearly surprises. However, if you insisted, he would agree to only having every two- to four-month anniversary, as the man can only pull so many unique date and gift ideas out of him.

- For your yearly, he would take you to see the most extraordinary places in all the world, guiding you in waking the life around the environment, watching everything light up and dance around you both. Speaking of dancing, this man would invite you to dance, head against his shoulder as you danced with the glowing creatures and magic whispering loving whispers into your ear before pulling out the dinner he packed for the picnic you were to have there.

- Rare that he would ever miss your anniversary from forgetfulness, it would be the reason cause of work. Not teaching, but if the Necropolis needed him, he would have to go with a storage promise to make it up to you when he gets back. Making it up to you with days off of teaching and other work, leaving you two just to be together.

- The planned celebration would last no more than a week; by the end of the fourth day, he would be exhausted, leaving you to have a turn to spoil him. Loving every minute of you spoiling him, being the one to now be gifted his favorite things and have surprise meals with his favorite desserts, all for him to enjoy, definitely healing his inner child.

Watching adoringly as Emmrich took a bite of the dessert you made just for him, even when he asked many times if you wanted a bite, you declined every time. Wanting him to have it all to himself, knowing he'd have the biggest smile after.

Chatting your ear off as he did so on many things, watching his lips move with a smile that gets bigger and bigger with every bite. Taking notice with one of his bites as a bit of it stuck to his lip before he could wipe it away, you took the opportunity to wipe it away with your thumb. Stunning Emmrich, watching as you lick it off your thumb. Locking eyes with him, seeing red flashes across his cheeks, before you lean over the table kissing him.

-

Lace Harding

- Lace can be a bit forgetful, but that's one of the things you love about her. So focused on one thing, not even time mattered—a magical experience when it's with you. Looking into your eyes, amazed every time. If it weren't for the mornings of eyegazing, adoring her amazement at your existence, she would have remembered it was your anniversary.

- Love to celebrate both monthly and yearly anniversaries, though the monthly celebrations would be more a day of never leaving the bedroom. Spending most of the day in each other's arms, soaking up each other's warmth before getting up to make dinner together, only to barely get anything done, not being able to let each other go. Ultimately ending the night at one of your comfort restaurants before getting home and back into bed in her arms.

- Yearly anniversaries would be a camping trip; even if it wasn't your thing, she'd smooth-talk you into it. Lace loves seeing you all sweaty and covered in dirt; she thinks it's hot, so this is more of a gift to herself than to you. Never tell you where she's taking you, even covering your eyes when you get halfway there. Only to show you the more breathtaking view before telling you that's your view for the next few days.

- Finally, when reminding her what the date was, watching as her face drops with a red flush spreading across her whole face. The first words out of her mouth would be a curse before the flood of apologies started. Even with all the reassurance in the world, the only thing that would stop her would be a kiss, feeling as all of her worries melt away. Breaking the kiss, the next words out of her mouth are her swearing she's still going to make it up to you.

- The camping trip would last for five days at most. Having only brought food for the first three days, knowing she'd be busy in your arms, then the last days she'd hunt and gather for the both of you. Telling you she never wants it to end, but when it does, she does love the view of you when hiking back home.

Limbs tangled with each other, lips close to raw, minutes ago, breaking the hungered kiss with the breathtaking view in the background.

The fire had died out hours ago, making you rely on Lace for warmth. Happily doing so with open arms, only to attack you with a shower of kisses. Almost sad you have to go back, away from the night sky, brought out Lace's eyes that adored you greatly.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI, or reposted on any other platform without permission.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does give consent to "reblog," sharing links to direct work, and being in recommend lists.

Taglist: @blue124th @n0v4hertz @call-me-a-fool @hellok1ttycake

@covertleathers @doombellow @teleanna

[thegoblinwitchqueen]

Rosamund Trevelyan as the Death Card

Forgotten daughter, mage and Inquisitor —-bringing transformation and renewal to Thedas

[tobinka]

she fell first but he fell harder something something im in love with him

[quanyixhen]

I LOVE THEM UGH

[elynnism]

Come Home to Me

Want a quick one-shot? So does Lavellan.

Topic:

I am a firm believer that Solas and Lavellan had sex in Inquisition.

This takes place after the balcony scene, before Crestwood.

My Inky thinks the anchor is gross.

Solas is really more of a giver than a taker, as he should be. What a dog.

I believe that Lavellan is the forgotten-spirit Solas describes to Rook in Veilguard (What is the word for coming home after a long journey?), and he knows it, hence the reaction he has.

I don't speak Elven, which is why it's kept simple and why I provided the translations next to the phrases. If you have a better/more accurate phrasing, lmk, I love to learn. Fenedhis means wolf penis, it's a common curse, you are welcome.

I tried really hard to do an 8-8-11/8-8-11 with them, but I wrote this on a complete whim and that was where most of my time was spent, ahahaha someone did it for a living ahahaha they have a degree from Stanford ahahaha

It took all of my willpower not to include a bit about how Ellana was gonna tell Sera and Blackwall that Solas has definitely fucked spirits because he definitely fucks.

Don't be offended by Solas's stamina, dude was just breaking a millenia-long dry spell, he's lucky he lasted as long as he did at all. He at least used his wisdom first, eh? eyebrows eyebrows

Couple things: -I am an amateur writer, I love constructive feedback. My weak areas include not knowing the difference between lay/lie and mixing up past and present tenses.

-This went through exactly one read-through so there are bound to be typos/issues. Lmk I will fix it right away.

-Do I capitalize Fade or not? IDFK.

-Please enjoy I actually loved writing this, I love imaging my Inky and my Solas both getting all hot and bothered during their 10 year dry spell thinking of the time they spent together.

There was a silence filling the space where he stood, his concentration willing the air to be still. He was stood idly in the rotunda, hands clasped behind his back as he observed the space. A scent unknown to Ellana drew her attention and she spied a palette of fresh paints, however her purpose for being here enabled her to walk past it without much thought.

Solas had begun his outline but she had yet to see him paint. She, right now, had a plan, and had formed it after he’d told her about his matchmaker spirit in his journeys through the Fade. She could not be rid of his parting words, “That small village never knew its luck.”

Ellana felt she was no fool and knew luck was a fleeting and fickle thing. Spurred by their stolen kisses and the confidence of her experiences with men, and stirred further by the anchor in her hand (her nails were turning an indigo color at the nailbeds), she approached Solas with purposefully soft footsteps and a clearing of the throat to catch his attention.

“No need to announce yourself, but I appreciate the consideration.” He turned towards her, a smile on his lips, his violet eyes striking true. That gaze went through her and she had to stop herself from pressing up against him as she always desired when in close proximity.

Some of her nerve was lost when she made eye contact and remembered the kisses in the Fade, how she sought him out in every dream. The last one his hands had wandered and she yearned for this in reality.

It was easier in the Fade, but they had been travelling together and were not strangers to each other’s touches. There was a particularly harrowing battle in the Hinterlands, one she was ill-prepared for but too stubborn to run from. When they were victorious, Solas grabbed her to look her over, though he was bloodied and battered himself. They fell to their knees and he embraced and kissed her so hard their teeth clashed and he did not let go until Cassandra made a comment about how even her romance books were not so dramatic. Even then, he had held on to her as they made their way back to camp and took extra care to look after her once the healer had left their vicinity, tutting at the bandages and re-binding them.

She was emboldened by this memory and came to stand beside him, clasping her hands behind her, mimicking him. She looked at him sideways in the same cool manner he would do to one of the other mages, and decided to employ the same even tone he did when talking to someone being unreasonable, “Are the sketches complete yet?” She turned to look at the paints, nose in the air. “Are you… readying to use those?”

Distraction was fighting his desire to play, she could tell, and he glanced back towards the paint and let his hands relax, seeing her teasing posture. He sounded amused as he said, “They are, and I was. But it can wait if you need something, Inquisitor?”

Ellana loved it when he used her title. The way he chooses to address her was a playful game they had fallen in rhythm to, having never discussed the roles, rules, or regime. So it was the Inquisitor drawn forth when she approached with his stolen confidence guiding her steps; vhenan when he noted her loving graces and the peculiar lilt in her voice she was becoming fond of; Ellana when she has done something “a little stupid”, or pleasantly surprising, like bringing him frilly cakes stolen from kitchen – and why not, they have two pastry chefs. There is enough to go around.

“Oh, yes. Actually…” and while she had other motives, there actually was the problem of the anchor and her hand. She exposed her left hand and gazed at it. “I, um,” she hesitated, looking around. “I was wondering if we could discuss the anchor in my room? Please, vhenan,” she added softly.

The concern on his face as he took her left hand gently and nodded, “Of course, my heart.” He tucked her hand gently into the crook of his elbow, muffling the bright green light, and they made their slow walk to her quarters. It was not uncommon for them to stroll around Skyhold and this was not the first time they went up to her tower room together. But this was the first time she asked him to look at the anchor in private and she had no doubt Leliana was listening to that. Ellana did not care for any scandals but their relationship was a known entity in the Inquisition, so she felt confident no eyebrows would raise too high at this not-so-unusual circumstance.

On their walk through the main hall and throne room, Ellana made idle chit-chat by bringing up the matchmaker spirit, asking how common was a love spirit in the fade, would the matchmaker ever think to move on to find other villages to ‘set right’, and things of that nature. They discussed it in low, intimate tones, and Solas occasionally reached over to rub a thumb over her left hand and look at her fondly.

They climbed the steps and entered her room, and she had decorated the rooms in the Elvish tradition, which she liked and found pleasing and somewhat musical. Her bed was a four-poster now after begging Josephine for the funds, being denied multiple times, and going to Val Royeaux anyway and buying what she wanted. She had purchased a dark navy duvet that almost matched her Skyhold uniform. She liked the darker colors because it muted that green light that exuded from her hand at all times.

Heartbeat quickening as she remembered her ulterior motives, she invited Solas to sit on the bed. She saw he was instantly suspicious, and hesitated, but she disengaged from him and went to lean against the desk, hoping to catch him off guard. She’d piled the couch with various forms of clothing to dissuade him from sitting there instead. She realized she should have done something with the desk chair, but maybe her guarding it would prevent him from thinking to use it. Regardless, her desk was tidied and neat, not that it usually wasn’t, but she had some foresight to finish up her open affairs if only to leave more time available to spend with Solas, if he wanted to.

“I need to speak openly with you, first, Solas,” she said with more confidence than she felt. “Please, sit just there,” she asked gently, and he complied in fine order, sitting gracefully on the edge of the bed. He put an ankle on one knee and both hands on his raised leg, looking at her intensely.

“You need not be so concerned, there are two reasons I brought you. One is for my hand, the other is for love,” she recounted in that lilting tone.

Solas blinked and was silent, his face impassive. He inclined his head for her to continue.

The sunlight from the late afternoon was streaming in. The mountainous view lent a quiet calm up in her tower and she had let the fire die down to a gentle crackling. The windows were closed, however, containing the heat. When Ellana looked at Solas and his gentle violet eyes, there danced a rainbow of lights from the windows, and it softened her heart more.

“I love the stolen kisses, the fade, the catalyst of our desire. I would change nothing, yet I want to change everything.” I think the anchor is killing me, she thought.

Cupping her left hand with her right, looking down at the green light which often mesmerized her, could not manage to hold her attention right now. I think the anchor is killing me.

Tilting her head to look at Solas, the light of her hand illuminating part of her face in that eerie green glow, she wants him to read her mind so she doesn’t have to say it out loud, but she knows that is unreasonable and unlike her.

A deep breath, a settling of the nerves, the worst part of it needs to come out, now. “I think the anchor is killing me,” her voice is small and he remains sat on the bed, his gaze turning down to her hand, a concerned frown on his face as he focuses on the anchor.

Ellana lets go of her left hand and settles it on top of the desk, hiding that green glow.

“I cannot bear the thought of never having you. Surviving every battle, only to be tormented at the thought of never having…” she loses the words and looks away, only to turn her gaze back towards Solas, all the more fierce.

He opened his mouth to speak but Ellana cut him off in sudden inspiration.

She said, “Shiral vhenas ghilas ar, Solas.” Come home to me, Solas.

“Vhenan!” he exclaimed, dropping his leg and standing abruptly. Ellana looked at him with longing and, using her right hand, began to unbutton her shirt. He watched her coolly, even when she opened the blouse to expose that soft area between her breasts, her navel showing. She leaned back casually, trying to control her breathing and staring at Solas with certain expectations and also pleading.

Her voice was quiet but firm and filled the space as she repeated, “Shiral vhenas ghilas ar, vhenan.” Come home to me, heart.

Then he was upon her, his mouth on hers, a hand slithering on her waist and up her back. The weight of him pushed into her, overtaking her as he liked to do, and their feet shuffled together as they moved toward the bed and the moment of intense, unbearable desperation was over.

He pulled away to put his mouth on her neck, helping her shirt off. “This is a terrible idea,” he said into her soft neck and she laughed her reply, absolutely assured that this is quite possibly the best idea she’s ever had, “You’re an idiot!”

“Fenedhis,” he muttered in the same teasing tone. An intake of breath and Solas pulled away, though she could see his lips pouting, wanting to be kissed, and his eyes had a glazed look over them. He moved to sit on the bed, his hands touching her everywhere but her breasts, warm skin to warm skin. He looked at her with awe and longing and such sadness in his eyes that she bent over and kissed each eyelid. “Don’t be sad, vhenan, I’m not leaving,” and she smiled as she kissed him.

He kissed her back and she was emboldened by his passion, and in awe of his self-control. She looked down at her naked torso and did not feel ashamed, but did want to play.

“Well, this is unfair,” she teased. He only smirked at her and she was quick to remove her pants. “I know that might have seemed like I practiced it, but…”

He laughed and she joined him in that laughter and shrugged, standing tall and naked before him to let him drink her up with his eyes, which she was pleased to see he did.

Generous sunlight struck Ellana’s skin and Solas exhaled softly at the sight, lifting one of his clothing-bound arms, extending his hand to her gracefully. “Be ever gracious and assist me in undressing, vhenan?” This was a new game, but one she knew she’d enjoy.

Tugging the soft woolen material, she loosened it from one arm and then the other, pulling the tunic up and off his head. His jawbone necklace almost got caught up in it so she removed that too, kissing his cheeks and the top of his head and she did so. She leaned down and kissed his generous mouth as she worked on the wrappings he wore, making a comment that they were woven in the Dalish style, and he laughed with a little snort and simply said, “Yes.”

She kissed the bare skin she revealed with every wrapping she removed, and when she reached his chest he stopped her before she could go further, saying to her gently, “I would not have you kneel before me.” Instead he stood and took her chin in his hand, looking into her eyes before kissing her deeply, and he quickly and deftly removed his wrappings.

“Oh… did you practice that for me?” she asked, grinning like a fool.

“I did,” he said, and embraced her. He stepped back and they gazed at each other, reaching for one another. Ellana said softly, “Am I to be woken from this wonderful dream, disappointed?”

“No, vhenan. I am reasonably sure we are awake. And I am done talking, now.”

He moved his body in a way to manipulate her onto the bed of her own volition, without touching her. She marveled at the skill. He motioned for her to sit up by the pillows and then he climbed in after her.

Painstakingly slow, one hand started on her foot and he caressed up to her thigh. She was unconcerned with his length and girth, which was clearly ready for her, and more focused on his hands and the concentration of his features. Every part of her was sacred in his hands and he acted as a sculptor, trying to memorize and capture every curve to be poorly imitated later. He focused on her pelvic area, kept trim and neat if only for the sake of hygiene, and when he’d caressed every inch of each foot, shin, and thigh, he leaned back on his heels and stretched her left leg high. Beginning at the center of her foot, he began the slow descent of a smattering of kisses across her leg, looking at her all the while, his hands moving in time with those kisses. Ellana was taken aback and her breath hitched in her throat as he made his way down, down to between her thighs, where it all connected. He settled himself on his stomach between her thighs, breathing his hot breath on her so expertly it did not tickle but only drew out more desire from her.

When his mouth, hot and moist and generous, so generous, finally made contact, Ellana exhaled a breath she didn’t know she was holding and let her head fall back on the pillows with a quiet, “Sulahn’nehn!” Rejoice!

Solas chuckled against her and it sent ripples through to her core, but then that mirth stopped, and that is when the real work began.

He worked on her, meticulously slow and gentle, while her hands roamed over herself. However, she stopped when she noticed the anchor, unhappy with it and the burden it carried. She saw the anchor glowing, the dying fingertips, her practiced words finally spoken aloud to the only one she would dare say those words to: I think the anchor is killing me. Her concentration on Solas was shattering as she looked at the anchor and Solas noticed, looking up from his work. Her eyes focused on him and she said, “I have a glove,” reaching beneath a pillow to produce said glove. “For when I sleep,” she said a little breathlessly. It was thick black material and she slid it on easily. It left her fingertips bare and had a delicate and attractive pattern on it, but she had a fleeting thought she would need a full-size glove soon if her hand continued the way it was. This thought was disrupted by Solas grabbing her hand and kissing it, before lowering his mouth back to the temple that was her and drinking of her as a man dying of thirst would.

Tongue, lips, teeth were at work and she was writhing, panting happily, offering encouragements, grabbing onto herself and also whatever piece of him she could reach. But then Solas did something with his lips and tongue and mouth and her back arched as she squealed loudly in tandem. He did it again and her ass lifted involuntarily as she moaned, something low and deep within her she wasn’t sure she was capable of. His hands moved to control her hips, and she heard a small, almost imperceptible, “Ah.” from him.

After learning her, she was twisted and arching and biting her own fingers, how does he not tire? and she laughed at the revelation as tears pricked her eyes, thinking, all that talking… and he brought her patiently, so patiently to the height of her enjoyment, right to the edge of her anticipated release, that incoming tidal wave of pleasure. Ellana was shaking and expressed her need to be done with it, looking down at him holding her hips with his mouth pressed fiercely against her.

Those violet eyes looked up at her flushed features, mouth slightly parted, glossed over eyes, and he slid two fingers inside her, probing gently as his tongue moved on that bundle of nerves in that form she was coming to love.

She cried out when he’d barely touched her and her body tensed, then finally released as he made a mild suggestion while simultaneously placing pressure on that spot inside her, “Ganas.” Come. Lowering his mouth but not his eyes at her flooding and tossing and her scream as she came. No command, merely a suggestion, but it was enough for her and he gently massaged inside and outside until the tidal wave was satiated and she was spent, slack and sweaty and breathing hard.

He began to leave a trail of kisses over her stomach and breasts, massaging and touching every inch of her slowly. His shadow prompted her to open her eyes up at him as he moved on top of her, resting his torso on hers and kissing her neck, nipping slightly. He murmured into her neck, pulling her against him, “Hellathen, vhenan.” A noble struggle, heart.

The light was slanting in from a different angle now, but the room was as warm as ever and she could smell her own pleasing fragrance in the air mingled with him, but she wanted more, her breathing was more even and her hands began to roam over every inch of him, grasping and clawing. She pushed against his chest to get him to lay on his back but he fought against her, pushing her back down with a hard kiss, which she broke away from to awkwardly say, “There has to be reciprocation.” So grating to her ears to hear her spew off something of that nature in a factual manner.

Solas replied by kissing her neck and mouth for so long she was unsure he heard her, until he said, calm as ever, “Why? No.” It was so soft and gentle and simple, but Ellana met it with, “Don’t you want me to…” suddenly absolutely determined to make this awkward.

“No,” he said again in that frustratingly simple tone. “I do not need you to kneel. Your pleasure is the greatest love letter to me, vhenan.”

“What if I want to kneel before you?” and she raised her hips, feeling the hardness of him. He groaned and grabbed her ass. “There is time for that. But not today. Let me distract you today before I study that hand.” He moved his hand to grip himself and kissed Ellana, pressing against her opening with himself.

Wet and ready and eager she lifted her hips to him; this was her favorite part, that initial insertion, and she knew he’d fit well.

With some coaxing, he did. Fully sheathed, they panted into each other’s ears and necks and then found their rhythm and Ellana felt them as each part of a song: she took and he gave, he took some and she gave most of it back. Together and around, until he grunted and spent himself in her, gasping out.

He stilled before her and murmured a soft, “Ir abelas, vhenan,” a gentle chuckle at the end to note his embarrassment.

Ellana automatically said, “Tel’abelas! Whyever would you -!?”

That damned chuckle again, kissing her collar bone as he lay slack on top of her. “I meant… I did not want to go so quickly.” He moved off her and lay beside her and she laughed some.

“Solas,” she intoned, adjusting herself and placing a hand on his cheek. “Hamin. Rest. I have to admit…” she blushed, closed her eyes, scrunched her face. “I am embarrassed.” She exhaled and Solas touched her cheek. She opened her eyes to gaze into his. “I thought I was experienced in these matters, but I’ve… you are quite the expert.” She saw the relief and humor on his devastatingly handsome features. His eyebrows raised and he shook his head.

“Only with you, and that marvelous spirit of yours, vhenan.”

[sapphirebunnyart]

Sketch Commission for friend on insta for their Elora with Blackwall <3

-----------

Commissions are open!

See full wips by supporting me on my kofi membership for as little as $1 a month

https://ko-fi.com/sapphireangelbunny    

Also my Carrd! https://sapphireangelbunny.carrd.co/

[watcher1ngellvar]

Okay so, I've got 2

Where's my love by syml

And hurricane by fleurie

I started playing dragon age when I was 14, started with inquisition while I was at boarding school. Solavellan was my first playthrough, and really my first ever experience of any kind of romance. My Canon Inquisitor, Naomi Lavellan, was my first run, and I almost romanced Blackwall, but after I got to skyhold I spoke to Solas first, and the fade kiss got to me.

Anyway, at the time there were two solavellan edits that were really popular on YouTube, both with heavily modded footage, using these two songs, and I fell completely in love with them after I finished trespasser, and I would watch them and sob and watch them again, and to this day I can't listen to them without thinking of Naomi and the egg man.

ok solavellan nation. what’s YOUR one true solavellan song

u can’t pick hallelujah that’s the canon one. NO PLAGIARISM

[rilamelafin]

May I Be Your Shield

Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition Rating: T Pairing: Cullen x Female Lavellan Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Here Lies the Abyss, Protectiveness, Non-sexual intimacy References Male Lavellan as the twin brother of Female Lavellan, who died during the Conclave.

[Read on AO3]

~~~

The tremble in Cullen’s hands had nothing to do with the way his body craved lyrium, and everything to do with the Inquisitor disappearing through a Fade Rift. He had heard from his men about what had happened at the top of Adamant Fortress. The corrupted dragon under Corypheus’ control had attacked, and the floor had crumbled underfoot. The Inquisitor, Cassandra, Cole, The Iron Bull, Warden Stroud, and Hawke had all fallen, and then a flash of green light had enveloped them. Mere moments later, they had returned through the Rift at the ritual site, and Neddirra had sealed it closed behind her. Warden Stroud had not made it back with them, sacrificing himself so the rest of them could escape.

In the aftermath, Neddirra had banished the Gray Wardens from Orlais as punishment for their deeds. Only Blackwall remained with the Inquisition, as he’d proven his trustworthiness and had not been subject to the false Calling in the first place. The Inquisition forces marched back to Griffon Wing Keep, where they could take stock of their casualties and heal the wounded. It was closer to morning than night by the time Cullen had finally gotten the chance to breathe, which was why he was surprised when he was summoned to the Inquisitor’s quarters.

When Cullen had entered her chambers and closed the door behind him, he was knocked back a step by Neddirra as she all but threw herself into his arms. Her hands were on his face, her lips on his in a desperate, searing kiss. She sobbed into his mouth. All he could do was hold her. The trembling in his own body had stopped, but he was certain that was only because she was shaking like a leaf in his arms. He held her close, hurriedly tugged off one of his gloves so he could brush his fingers through her hair. Cullen wasn’t sure how long they stood just behind the closed door before she finally took a shuddering breath and rested her forehead against the side of his neck.

“I needed to see you,” she admitted breathlessly. “After what I saw... what that thing said. I needed to know you were still here.”

“Of course, I’m here,” he murmured. “Are you alright?”

“Better now. I walked through the Fade again, Cullen. You’ll see the reports, but I wanted you to know from me first.” A cold stone settled in his gut. The last time Neddirra had walked through the Fade, he hadn’t even known her yet, and it had been the source of the explosion in Haven. He was grateful that particular experience hadn’t been repeated, but he could tell that whatever she had seen had rattled her. Neddirra had seemed so put together, even when she had banished the Wardens. There had been anger, but none of the fear he could sense in her now.

“What happened?”

And she told him. Whatever he thought he might hear — whatever he could have imagined — was nothing compared to what she described. A Nightmare demon that fed on the fears of mortals, and had stolen her memories of what happened at the Conclave. Divine Justinia, memory or spirit Neddirra did not know for certain, had guided them through the Fade, providing a beacon of hope as they traversed the Nightmare’s extensive lair. They had fought their way through Fearlings, which had taken the shape of spiders in Neddirra’s mind, and demons alike. The Nightmare had taunted all of them — Cassandra with the doubt that the Inquisition was truly going to make a difference, Cole with a declaration that he was no different from the demon, The Iron Bull with the threat of possession — but it had dragged the worst out of Neddirra’s greatest fears. She told Cullen how she heard the screams of her clan, all slaughtered, and none of those who had accompanied her could hear it. Neddirra trembled the entire time as she told him, and he could feel her tears as they dropped to his skin and rolled down into his collarbone.

“I saw Mahanon.” Cullen’s hold on her tightened, and he shifted to kiss the top of her head. Her brother had died at the Conclave, and Cullen understood how painful it would have been for her to see him again, even if it was only a spirit. “It wasn’t him. I know that. He was like the Divine, I think. A spirit, or a memory. But—” She sobbed again. “Mi’nas’sal’inan.” Cullen wasn’t going to ask her to translate; her grief was evident enough. He didn't have any words that would suffice in the face of her pain, so he kissed her crown again and shielded her in his arms. Not for the first time, Cullen wished he'd had the forethought to remove his armor before he'd answered her summons, if only so there wouldn't be a layer of metal separating them. As much as she seemed to need the physical connection to calm herself, he also craved the feeling of her as close as possible – to feel her heartbeat against his to prove that she was still there and whole. Her voice was uncharacteristically small when she spoke again.

“Will you stay here tonight?” Cullen didn't even consider the rumors that would spark at the Commander of the Inquisition sharing a room with the Inquisitor herself– he couldn't find it in himself to care. It wasn't like any of the gossip had gone away after they'd kissed on the battlements anyway.

“Of course.” They separated just far enough for Cullen to begin the work of removing all of his armor, gloves, and boots – Neddirra kept one hand on him at all times as she helped him shed those layers. Once in the bed, Neddirra curled into him with her ear pressed against his heart. More of the tension seemed to ease out of her as she listened to the proof that he was still alive.

“There's something else, isn't there?” he asked softly. Neddirra’s arm around his chest tightened, and she pressed a kiss over his heart.

“It told me it would kill you,” she whispered. “That you were the first it would hurt once it came through the Rift, just to make me suffer.”

“You stopped it,” he reassured her.

“No demon will ever have you.” The certainty in her voice gave him comfort as much as her words in ways she couldn't know. He kissed her head and wished he could convey to her just how much it had meant. Perhaps one day he would be able to tell her.

Cullen wasn't aware of falling asleep until he awoke to the desert sun shining through an arrow loop, and he shifted so he wouldn't be blinded. Neddirra was still asleep beside him, curled into a ball by his side with her head still resting over his heart. His left arm had gone completely numb, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. She was sleeping peacefully, even after the horrors of Adamant Fortress. The rest of the world could wait a little while longer.

[greypetrel]

[GO] from the tol and smol prompts! 💗

Hi Mo, thank you so much! **

I wanted this to be for Cullen and Aisling, and it took me a little to devise one chance when Aisling would snap so hard at anyone... I found it, finally. uwu

Shitty timing to post it, I hope you'll have a nice day today!

Tis the prompt list

Justice

[ Cullen x Female Lavellan | CW: Mentions to fantasy racism, spoilers for The Masked Empire | 2056 words ]

[ GO ]  for the taller muse to pick up the shorter one and carry them away from a potential/just started fight. 

“Let me go!”

It came out as more of an order than she would have intended, but it was too late to take it back. Not that she cared much, in that moment: it was much more important to thrash and kick and try to have her way and return with both feet on the ground. Not picked up like a potato sack, like she weighted nothing at all, face full of black coarse fur and watching as Michel de Chevin and a group of three other nobles and Bonnie got further away from them, staring.

“No.”

Cullen, on the other hand, just answered by jostling her enough so he could better his grip. One hand clutched around her shoulders, which he was circling all too easily, and the other pressed in her thigh from under her knees, letting her move just half her legs and feet. No matter how much the elf groaned and tried to free herself, the ex Templar kept her close and didn’t let go.

Luckily enough, all he needed to do was filling the short distance that separated them from the barn. Blackwall wasn’t around, a small mercy at the very least, so the Commander could cross the building and slip into the archway to the stables, where he finally stopped. He shifted his bust and arms to let her go, finally. Aisling jumped down as if she was a spring-charged toy, but the push was too much and she stumbled.

His hands closed on her forearms, and pulled gently to help her regain her balance and avoid stumbling onto the wooden wall at her back. Too gently, for her tastes, not even the smell of horse and fresh hay could soothe her rage.

“Why did you do that?” She looked up at him, not bothering to keep her voice low.

“It was beneath you. You’re the Inquisitor, you can’t start squabbles.” There was an apology in his voice, but a frown was still on his face, creating a deep line between his eyebrows and bending his lips in a harsh line.

“If I don’t do anything when it matters, who should, then?” She pressed, taking a step towards him with her chest puffed up and chin held high. Not that she could keep it low, if she wanted to look at him in the eyes, since she barely reached his collarbones. “Who, Cullen? We’re here just to…” She snorted, blinking away a sheen of moisture that had collected in her eyes. “Smile and nod and comply to everything, as long as it comes from a noble that allied with us? No matter how horrible the act?”

“Of course not.”

“Then what?”

She clenched her fingers on his arms, and grew irritated that she met just metal under her press. Unrelenting and solid, too solid, even if it had grown warmer with her body heath. If he felt or saw what she was doing, he didn’t take his arms away.

“They’ll see you as out of control. You’ll lose your position, if you touch him now.”

“Fuck my position!” She was crying, now, frustration making her feel pathetic for it, and yet trying to stop only brought more tears. “What’s it for, if I can’t even avenge my people?”

“No. Listen- Listen.” He insisted, something straining in his voice as he let her arms go just to gently, impossibly gently cup her face and bring her up to look at him. It was unfocused, between tears, and she hated those gloves. “I… I hate it and I’m ashamed of it, I truly am. But I know how it will go if you go back and attack him. They’ll see you as dangerous, you’ll lose everything you built in the last months.” He paused. “Please, don’t do that. We all need you where you are.”

“My people need me more!”

“I know.”

“And he-”

“I know.”

“Nobody even batted an eye. They heard him, Cullen. Admitting it in full day, as if it was some minor mistake, a slip of youth.”

“I know.”

“He killed them. A whole clan. Lost forever. He can’t even remember the place.”

“I know.”

“You don’t!”

He really didn’t, but she couldn’t care. She rushed forward, caring little if she collided with the cold metal of his breastplate. Hating the damn armour and how it didn’t give when she circled his waist and squeezed, pressing herself against his front as she cried. She didn’t feel him sighing if not with her ears, and she hated it. She hated everything, in that moment, but Cullen’s arm that circled her shoulders and held her, his face bending down with his knees, enough so that he could press a kiss at the crown of her head. It wasn’t nearly enough, it didn’t fix any of the rage and grief she felt, the terrible sense of guilt and impotence.

“I’m sorry. I should call for your sis-”

“Don’t.” She held him closer, pushed on his body until he stepped back and they collided with the other wall, with an oomph. Her arms were pressed between Cullen and the wood, but she didn’t care. The physical discomfort was distracting. “Don’t leave me.”

“Never.”

If he minded how pleading she had sounded, or how full of deeper meanings her last request was, he didn’t show it. He stayed there, holding her close, thumb rubbing circles into her shoulderblade, strong enough so she felt it past her doublet.

“Do you still admire him?” She asked him, words sliding outside her lips almost unwillingly. She dreaded the answer even more than she had dreaded knowing what sir Michel did, but she had to know.

“He’s a good fighter, a skilled swordsman.” Cullen sighed, from up above. “And I dread thinking of what I would do if I had to choose between keeping you safe and harming a group of people.”

“Then-”

“No, Aisling, I don’t admire him. At all. He conspired with a Demon, and had you fix his mistakes where they could be righted. He may have been born a commoner, but he’s just like any other nob-

She shimmied out of his grasp, just in time to grab on his gorget and bring him down to her, claiming his lips in a kiss before he could finish the sentence. She chased him with a grunt of denial when he tried to separate, demanding another kiss. He obliged, and soon his hand were resting on her waist and keeping her pressed to his front, kissing her back with passion. She hated the damn stays she was wearing, in that moment. She liked how she looked in it, but hated that the bones prevented her from feeling his hands on her as much as she had wanted. Hated the damn armour too for the same reason.

Until she still remembered where they were, and that they were alone only temporarily, she pressed a last kiss on his upper lip, right onto his scar, sweeter than she kissed him before. And then she returned down from the ball of her feet. Back with her cheek on his breastplate -the cool of the metal helped some freshening her mind-, she sighed deeply.

“They will always see me as an elven witch first and foremost, won’t they?” She asked, resigned.

“They wouldn’t distinguish a shard of glass from a diamond.”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I snapped at you.”

“Because a fucking orlaisian asshole took advantage of your kindness and didn’t realize he was putting you ill at ease, and dumped his shit on you like-.”

“My my, Commander, and you kiss your Inquisitor with that mouth?”

It came out less jokingly than she would have, and much more sad. But when Aisling looked up at him, he was looking down at her, lips curled in a lopsided smile.

“She doesn’t seem to mind.” He grumbled, bending down again to kiss her once again.

“She’s generous, I heard.”  She smiled, and smiled wider, through tears, as he shifted her a little to be more comfortable, as he kissed away tears from her cheeks and his stubble tickled her pleasantly.

Neither of them let go of the hug. It was just less desperate, this time. Aisling sighed against his breastplate, observing how her breath condensed the metal, and how the stain reduced. Above, Cullen mockingly scolded Little Brother, who peeked out from his box with a snort that meant he wanted a treat.

“No apples for you, I saw you already had three, this morning.”

The horse snorted again and shook his head indignantly, ears bent back.

“Don’t be greedy.”

“What should I do?” Aisling asked, smiling at the horse and at how Cullen got along with him -or was one of the few people who was just wary, but not terrorized by the equine. But she needed to know, grief pressing still against her stomach.

He hesitated a moment, above her, and she felt his finger tapping against her shoulders as she thought.

“Investigate on his claim, get some proofs that aren’t just his word. Ask Briala, she owes you a favour and maybe she can help you.”

“I have witnesses.”

“It’s not enough. Bonnie and the nobles can be bought. I am…” He cleared his throat. “… Compromised.”

“Oh no, whatever shall we do.”

He squatted her shoulder, and she giggled. It was something.

“Then if you want, I’ll fight him in a duel. Any time you want.”

“What?” Aisling stepped back, hands on his waist, looking up at him with a frown. “I can’t fight him now, but you can later? And no, absolutely not, you’re not fighting my battles. Most of all not a stupid one like a duel who won’t solve anything.”

“It won’t bring them back, but it will hold him accountable.”

“… How, Cullen?”

“Make it an event. A duel for clan Virnehn. Ask Josie, she’ll know how to organize it. Have her invite a big bulk of noblety to assist. He’ll be shamed in front of everyone that matters in his own country, and Celene will get the message. You still have those documents you found at the Winter Palace on her, no?”

Aisling considered it. It was difficult to tell Cullen no when he had that face and he was so sure about his words. She hated the idea and didn’t think it would have helped anything on the long run. It surely wouldn’t have brought the clan back, but… But it was true that her first instinct had been to break the nose of de Chevin, and get physical. Which was something…

“I’m fighting him, tho.”

“You’re the-”

“I’m the Inquisitor, I know. And I know you worry about me and I’m grateful. I love you because you worry so much.” She interrupted him before he could go on, and hopped on the ball of her feet to press a soothing kiss under his chin. “But I’m also the First of clan Lavellan. I should have been Keeper, if I hadn’t come to the Conclave. And I’m not letting de Chevin erase anything Dalish anymore from anyone, included me. It’s my responsibility as Keeper and as Inquisitor to administer justice. And I wouldn’t ask you to do anything I’m not ready to do myself.”

“Aisling, he’s a chevalier, and a good-”

“We have time to collect proofs, haven’t we?” She waited until he nodded. “You have time to prepare me to face him. I know you don’t want to lose me, but you’ll do anyway if I don’t fight. If the matter with Samson could be solved with a duel, would you let me fight instead of you, just because I’m worried?”

He was fought, and she could see him in his face. She didn’t like it, as much as he didn’t, but she liked even less the idea of doing nothing. If that was the solution that would have given back some of the grief he caused… She had to do it herself, if not a soul of clan Virnehn survived.

When he assented and agreed with her, she sighed deeply, accepting the weight of grief that resided in her throat. When she dragged him back down to kiss him, once again, it was a little easier.

“Thank you.”

Just a little.

[mx-pastelwriting]

𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙤𝙣 𝘼𝙜𝙚 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

⭑ 𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙞𝙜𝙣 𝙐𝙥 ⭑

𝙎𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙨 | 𝙁𝙚𝙣'𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙡 | 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙒𝙤𝙡𝙛

𝙑𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙘 𝙏𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙖𝙨

𝘾𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙣 𝙍𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙙

𝙄𝙧𝙤𝙣 𝘽𝙪𝙡𝙡

𝙏𝙝𝙤𝙢 𝙍𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙚𝙧 | 𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙡

𝙇𝙪𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙨 𝘿𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙚

𝙀𝙢𝙢𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙑𝙤𝙡𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣

𝙇𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI, or reposted on any other platform without permission.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does give consent to "reblog," sharing links to direct work, and being in recommend lists.

[thegoblinwitchqueen]

WIP! Of my Inquisitor Rosamund Trevelyan!

[a-gay-bloodmage]

Short Breeches

(Blackwall x Mallory Trevelyan, Sera & Mallory Trevelyan)

Sera figures that at least half of the Inquisition has a crush on the Inquisitor, Mallie. As a gift to the people, Sera devises an ingenious prank—seal Mallie's wardrobe and leave her with nothing but a tank top and a pair of homemade shorts. The Inquisitor, Mallory Trevelyan, does not exactly appreciate trying to keep up a fake female identity when nearly everything is on display in front of the Inquisition and the Warden Blackwall.

[dreadfutures]

Dead Pasts and Dread Futures - Edited through Ch 52

@warpedlegacy has been invaluable in helping me edit and rewrite DPDF and we have finally finished Ixchel's time on the Exalted Plains. It's time to tackle Val Royeaux, Fenris, and...Halamshiral.

I’m really proud of what I wrote, and really proud of the rewrite so far too :)

-:-:-

Chapters: 170/170

Words: 612,000

Rating: E - Graphic Depictions of Violence & Erotic Scenes

Romantic Pairing: Solas x Female Lavellan

Most Important Characters: Solas, Cassandra Pentaghast, Vivienne, Cullen Rutherford, Dorian Pavus, Cole, Blackwall, Briala

Summary: The Inquisitor's heart broke after the Exalted Council when her family of friends scattered to the winds. She was emptied of hope as Solas's power and reach grew. Left with a dead past and dreading the future, Ixchel Lavellan lay down and chose not to wake up. As the Veil began to unravel, and the fabric of reality tore apart at the seams, a desperate ally sacrificed everything to give her a second chance. And Ixchel will never forgive him.

Content Warnings: Suicide, Resurrection, Fantasy Racism, Depression, brief background Fenris/Lavellan, background and temporary adoribull, mentions of canonical genocidal acts.

[durgewyll]

version 1.20 update!

There's been lots of updates to get from 1.10 -> 1.20 but here's the biggest one:

The preferred tag should now automatically include synonym tags and subtags!

Example: When browsing Blackwall/Inquisitor (Dragon Age) tag, it should now include every variation and its subtags (ie, Blackwall/Female Adaar, Blackwall/Nonbinary Inquisitor and so on). It will still hide a fic if any of these synonym tags and subtags are not in the first X number of tags.

Enjoy!

AO3 userscript: Only show primary pairing (automatically, no config needed!)

This userscript automatically hides fics where the primary pairing is not the first listed tag.

Neeve's script does the same thing, except it needed to be manually edited to make it work. I made a few edits to make it automatic if you are on a ship tag page, no code editing needed.

[INSTALL HERE] (Requires Tampermonkey or any other userscript manager)

Other features (needs manual configuration):

Add more than one preferred pairing

Show works where pairings are in the first X number of tags

On a character tag page, automatically show works that have the character in the first five tags (experimental)

Add more than one preferred character

Show works where characters are in the first X number of tags

Happy reading!

[drthrvn]

i gotta say i love the idea of mage!Adaar romancing Blackwall because like. i'm pretty sure that many people who met her were frightened by her because she's a) a qunari and b) a mage. there were probably quite a few who even called her a monster. and here you have this middle-aged short king who's like "now that's a Woman", who's constantly admiring her for who she is and calling her "my lady". i love that for them