#divine victoria angst

[flowersonpebbles]

Thursday Week 2: Legacies 10. Friendship

@elfroot-and-laurels

TW: angst, character death, a lot of emotions

word count: 1 925

Jowan – A scribbled note found in the Circle tower of Ferelden, where an apostate had stayed and slept – paper covered with smeared blood and tears, discovered 9:30 Dragon whilst cleaning the tower after the horrific happenings. “I am afraid for what will happen today… Dallas I know will trust me, will help me… but I feel awful for having to lie to him and Lilly. But he will forgive me if he is to ever learn the truth, maybe not immediately, but eventually… I hope… I cherish our friendship too much to not work for his forgiveness…”

Alistair – An official letter, written with careful handwriting but there are stains looking akin to tear drops here and there, discovered in Vigil’s Keep 9:38 Dragon. “Respected Hero of Ferelden, Warden-Commander, I hope this letter finds you well. I also hope you can forgive me for being such a selfish man many years ago… I let grief color my judgement. But I think I am happy, trying my best to make a difference where I can, with influence to actually achieve it sometimes. And I owe it to you. Anora and I even grew to love each other… it is very bitter sweet sometimes, albeit. But we fill in each other where one lacks skill, it is… fulfilling. I know the Inquisition is in search of you, for what I do not know but I am cautious for you, I can only hope this letter reaches you in time, or that you’re already gone from where they can find you. Kindest regards, King Alistair Theirin.”

Morrigan – A neatly written first page in an otherwise empty journal not accidentally left behind in a worn, familiar backpack, discovered after killing the archdemon, “My dear friend, as we had discussed, I am gone now. But I hope your thirst for knowledge like my own can be documented in this journal I leave for you… I cannot thank you enough for the journey and our friendship. It will all stay precious to me.”

Lamb – A worn blanket left behind in an inn’s room, smelling strongly of embriums and lotuses for the friend who stood beside him til the end and who should now protect his soulmate in his stead, 9:49 Dragon.

Leliana – A book well loved and filled to the brim with songs, poems and stories, all written with utmost care. A last page entry of it though – end of 9:31 Dragon: “We finally part ways. I am saddened to do so but he wishes to venture far and I have a new duty. Something to help the world even further. Our memories together will always be dear to my heart, I was lucky to have met such an amazing person who let me help!”

Sten – Orders written in qunlat, page neatly folded and writing perfect, signed by the Arishok found in 9:44 Dragon. “The Warden-Commander of Ferelden, infamous Hero of Ferelden, should not be harmed in any manner if he is to be found among places to be conquered. If he wishes to protect any dwellers in a location, rather fall back. Highly dangerous – do not engage. Inform me immediately if he comes into play.”

Wynne – A journal entry in well keep book, the last page having tear and blood drops upon it, but is later ripped out and sent to Vigil’s keep, the entry was on 9:39 Dragon, “I feel weary, I think my time is nearing. I think fondly of our journey together, your questions always so odd to me. But I’ve grown to question more and more things myself, all thanks to you, Dallas. I am not sure if I’ll have the pleasure to see you again but I wish you well. I hope and Zevran have found happiness by each other’s sides.”

Zevran – A letter sent in desperation, hurried writing with inked smudgings indicating tear drops, sent and received 9:49 Dragon, “Dearest Leliana, or should I address you as Divine Victoria now? My dearest, I beg with utmost urgency aid in searching for our friend, Dallas. You see, he left in the middle of the night, Lamb is still with me. But even he is struggling to find our Dallas… I was hoping maybe you could help with that… I must speak plainly. He holds my heart; my very soul and I do not wish for him to perish alone. I owe him more than that. Yours kindly, Zevran Arainai.”

Oghren – A solemn journal entry in an old journal, dated 9:35 Dragon, “Little Dallas is grown and running around, belching like his pa. He even got red hair like me and the Warden-Commander! Felsi ain’t looking too great lately, got me worried. But I myself haven’t slept great, maybe that’s why she looks so tired all the time? Damned darkspawn… never thought a dwarf could have nightmares. Yet here we are. Hoping to report back to Dallas when he gets back so I could maybe ask for some help. He’s a smart cookie, after all.”

Loghain – A letter written in haste even though the neatness is tried to be kept, sent 9:41 Dragon after the Grey Wardens were welcomed by the Inquisition, “Warden-Commander Dallas, I am unsure where to send this to. I entrust our old ally, Leliana to send it to you along with all the other letters I have been meaning to send but I did not know where to reach you. She might know where – or when she does learn where they’ll be sent. We have broken free of Corypheus for the most part. We are aiding the Inquisition in rebuilding what we can to help atone for what has transpired… I know well how trying to help in exaggeration can be too extreme… I hope only to be of a soothing hand to their shame. Yours faithfully, Loghain Mac-Tir”

Bethany – A panicked last journal entry in a beloved diary of Bethany Hawke, 9:30 Dragon, “I worry for my siblings. They left to fight against the darkspawn, to help the King in the battle… Emikka will look after Carver though. I fear still… and I have a bad feeling for what has yet to come for us all… I know Emikka will help us through it all though. Wait, is that her I’m hearing outside? Did the win already?” ink is then spilled on the rest of the blank page, also ruining other mages, obviously the book had been shut whilst ink was still wet.

Carver – A letter sent in response to his sister’s request to be sent away, 9:41 Dragon, “Emikka, I left Ferelden as you requested. I just think it unfair that you let Loghain stay back and I’m made to leave. But I have safely arrived in Antiva City… Sister, you need to see it. Its bloody gorgeous and I think I could’ve even taken Merril on a date here. Please stay safe, I’m not sure why you even trust this Inquisition. But I do trust you. Write back soon, you better stay alive too. You still have your piece of the jade, yeah? Keep it close. I have a bad feeling… Nug has also been restless lately, he misses you. Your brother, Carver.”

Nug – 9:39 Dragon a well-loved stuffed tug toy was given to a brother to look after his sister’s mabari until the three of them can reunite again.

Aveline – 9:38 Dragon a letter was sent with a copper coin with marigolds on it, “I hope this finds you well, Hawke. I know you’re on the run, I know you’re trying to help people who need it. I just wanted you to know that Leandra is born. And I hope… now more than ever, the world she grows up in will see her be free of demons and a tower for her whole life. I will keep our city safe until you can return. Remember we miss you. And Hawke? Thank you. Aveline.”

Varric – 9:41 Dragon six different letters were sent out after the siege of Adamant Fortress written with great dread, grief and many tear stains and ink smudges. “Little Hawke, your sister was glad to have gotten your response before we left to siege Adamant Fortress… She only started writing a response but I’m still sending it with my letter. I think it only right you have it… I’m so sorry… It was all my fault. I should have never asked her for help… She… she stayed back in the Fade to let others escape… to let others live. Loghain also sends his deepest regrets to you, Junior. Varric” “Aveline, what I’m about to tell you… tell Gamlen for me too, if you could so kindly. Hawke was left behind on a mission to let others survive that were… necessary in her eyes. I wish I was there… I wish I could’ve stopped her… It’s a big mess, I’m so sorry… Send my regards to Donnic and Leandra, my regrets to Gamlen. Varric Tethras.” “Fenris, Emikka died on a mission. I don’t even know if you’ll be able to read this, hopefully you get someone who can read it to you then. I was such an idiot… I’m so sorry… Your friend, Varric” “Daisy, I’m telling you this with great caution. Hawke was left behind in the Fade to let others get out alive. Don’t go doing something stupid though, you hear me? She would want us all to go on living. Who knows, hopefully she can get out on her own… that’s possible, right…?” “Rivaini, I’m running out words, at least the ale is stopping the tears. Hawke… Hawke stayed back for others to live… I’m… it was my fault for asking her for help… Varric” “Blondie, by Andraste… you and Daisy, I don’t even wanna tell either of you but… Hawke was left behind in the fade… It hurts so much… it was my fault... again… how can we even begin to fix this, Blondie…?”

Fenris – A shakily written letter sent 9:41 Dragon, a few drops of blood at the corner. “Do not trust this new thing trying to recruit you. Listen to Varric and do not go where I cannot follow, Emikka. The jade piece I have will miss yours. Your love, Fenris”

Merril – A letter covered in scribbles, runes with elfroot leaves attached was sent on 9:39 Dragon, “Hawke, I hope this fighting ends soon. The elves following me grow weary. The Templars grow more aggressive. I fear our fates, but I do not know what to do other than hide in forests I know well, it is much more defensible. But it grows too cold for them… I hope you and Anders are fairing better than we are. Merril.”

Isabella – A letter written neatly with a pretty blue feather attached to it, sent 9:41 Dragon, “Hey, beautiful. Heard some kind of Inquisition has you roped in? Varric said he needed your help, right? Just behave yourself and come back with some shiny trinkets of theirs, alright? My jade has been missing yours too. Stay safe, pretty. Much love, Isabella”

Anders – A crumpled piece of paper with singes at the edges and a torn edge was sent 9:40 Dragon, “Hawke, I know we split up to try and get the Templars off my back, and the other apostates. But I fear for what is yet to come. I will die for our freedom. But not everyone wants to, I know that now… Have I doomed us all, or was it going to happen without me nether the less? Stay safe, old friend. Anders.”

[broodwolf221]

Happy Fridayyy for DADWC, how about "i'm thinking less flattering things now." for Solas/Cassandra?

i am on an angst kick tonight :') @dadrunkwriting 491 words cws: none

“The two of you…” Delwyn said, trailing off with a vague gesture. A one-handed gesture, which was simply another facet of the layered guilt which gnawed at Cassandra. Divine Victoria, she corrected herself dryly and habitually. Did all Divines mourn the loss of their name as Cassandra did? She was grateful, in a way, to lose the length of her name, but she still felt oddly adrift without it. 

A pointless consideration, a distraction her weak mind sought, attempting to distance herself from this conversation which she desperately did not want to have. 

“The two of us,” she agreed heavily, taking care to not look at the place where the Inquisitor’s left arm was meant to be. She should have realized, should have recognized something was amiss, that Solas was more than a simple apostate.

Well. She'd already known that. Over time, frustration had shifted to appreciation; from appreciation to affection. And from affection to…

She couldn't love someone like him. It was bad enough before—her, a Seeker, or ex-Seeker, and him, an elven mage. Her, dedicated to the Chantry, with a strong faith in the Maker and Andraste, him a…

He couldn't be a god. According to the Inquisitor, he denied being one. But what was he, then? The power he wielded now, putting their entire world at risk? If he was a god, she rather thought he'd become the vengeful kind. But it was impossible to imagine.

He'd always been so gentle. Firm, opinionated, willing to push hard against her preconceptions, but she'd liked that. Enjoyed being challenged, even when it frustrated her. And when it had spiraled into something different, something more… she had welcomed that change, strange though it had been. Recalled now laughing in his embrace, the quizzical sound he'd made, tilting her head up to explain how utterly surreal it all felt. His smile.

She had thought it wry. Now she wondered if it wasn't something else entirely, but it was so easy to cast doubt, to ascribe motivation and clarity in retrospect, even if the moment had held nothing of that nature.

“I told him we wouldn't stop. That we wouldn't give up on him. I still feel that way, even after—” here Delwyn shrugged her left shoulder, her meaning clear. 

She was so young. Cassandra had tried to ignore that: first, a youthful prisoner; next, a young Herald. Finally, the Inquisitor herself, the weight of the world on her shoulders. “I won't lie, I want him back. I want the man I loved back. But if need be…”

“It won't come to that,” Delwyn insisted, and Cassandra—Victoria—smiled to hear it. As determined now as she had ever been. 

“I am thinking much less flattering things about him now,” she remarked dryly, startling a snort out of Delwyn. Which was something of a victory in itself. “But, yes, I would see him back.” With me, she did not add. Did not need to add. Because she loved him. She still loved him.

[illusivesoul]

A Letter of the Divine

Summary: A letter found in the office of Divine Victoria shortly after her disappearance. Relationship: Leliana/Female Brosca Words: 671 Read on AO3 Lots of angst ahead lol

.

The following letter was found amongst the few possessions left behind by Divine Victoria following her sudden disappearance. Due to the nature of the letter, its existence shall not be revealed to the general public for the foreseeable future. In the unlikely event of a movement developing to support the Divine or if the Inquisition tries to make a political move, the contents of this letter, after being made even more unpalatable to the common people, shall be revealed and distributed as far and wide as we are able.

Serena Brosca

My Queen of Stone

You warned me about how going down this route would only bring me pain, and I ignored you, for even as much as you made my heart beam with joy from every smile you gave me, I couldn't let you dictate what my faith commanded me to do, just as I couldn't dictate what you did with yours.

I wish I had stayed at your side to help you handle the treacherous waters of Orzammar's politics, politics that you shook to the core by becoming a Paragon and allowing the casteless into your House. House Brosca. How proud I was for you when it happened. How blind I was to not see the dread and pain you felt when hearing those words. "I got my house by standing on top the corpses of my people, Leliana. A House for the Casteless earned by drenching my hands in their blood". But how could you not enjoy the power? How could you not see you had the world at your feet? How very naïve of me.

I've kept count of the time passed since we last wrote to each other. I've tracked every second since I last saw your face, since I last saw your lips curving into a smile when I sang for you. How much I have longed for the feeling of your hands of mine, your breasts on my back, your mouth on my skin, our bodies joined in perfect harmony as they sang promises to each other that my excess of pride and the pride you lacked never let us have. I held the world in my hands whenever I held you in them, and I let you go. To serve the faith, to serve the Maker. Well, Justinia is dead, the Maker laughs at me and all the grieving people in this broken word as always. Some god he turned out to be. At least your Paragons are there for you to feel and touch, the solid stone more real than my endless prayers to the dark. Thought that I had what it took to set things right. The blank slate. And in the end all I did was drown myself in a sea of blood and a world of lies, and Thedas quakes in chaos, the Chantry and the faith more broken by my actions than by anything Corypheus or Tevinter ever did. At long last I finally understand the meaning of your words. I also got my own House by drenching my hands in blood.

I've been drinking so much as of late, giving way to base desires to try to find something to make me feel alive, something to make me forget of all the damage I've done and keep doing... and every time I always end up thinking of you.

Perhaps my absent Maker or your Paragons will let us see each other again one day, and maybe then will you be able to forgive me for all I did and for how much I failed you, but life has taught me better than to hope for the impossible. I just hope that wherever you are, that you have found the peace, happiness and love you deserve and that I tried but failed to give you. I now dream of the cliff of my dreams, and I hear the rocks and waves of distant lands calling my name. One last song remains to be sung.

Forever yours, Your Leli

[myth-blossom]

I'm definitely wanting something real angsty! Could you do Hold On by Chord Overstreet?😁

Hi Issy! Thank you for the song request—my apologies for the long delay, but I think I delivered on your request with some Absolution angst :)

Enjoy! <3

The church was of modest size and fairly popular with the locals, its walls weathered but still well-maintained by the loving hands of its flock. 47 was lucky to find the place when he did, choosing to extend their stay in the new city so he could do what he had yet to make time for since his world fell apart. It was unwise to stick around in the same place for long—the ICA was still after Victoria and fortune favored frequent travel—but it was something he needed to do.

He never let Victoria accompany him despite her many requests to do so. She wouldn’t understand why he needed to visit the church every day alone, why he would light one of the small beeswax candles on the iron stand and offer a silent prayer in Diana’s memory. He would settle into an empty pew afterwards and stare ahead as he felt the eyes of saints and angels look down upon him with judgment, the silver coin gripped tightly in his fist. Sometimes he would pray silently on his behalf, though he wouldn’t ask for much. Miracles were hard to come by in this day and age, and God knew he didn’t deserve one.

Would his devout mourning matter to her, he wondered, or would Diana think him foolish? Surely she would hate him for what he had done to her. Perhaps she would enjoy seeing him suffer like this, aimless and burdened with regret, any hope for forgiveness lost in the ether. 

Congregants would occasionally bustle through the nearby confessional, exposing their various sins and seeking forgiveness from above, but not 47. He couldn’t bring himself to approach the booth, not after what he did, not after seeing her blood stain his hands. Rumors gathered about his character as he avoided confession, rumors that failed to go unnoticed by his heightened level of perception.

…must be a gangster…

…maybe he’s undercover…

…he just lost his wife…

47 would feel the coin dig sharply into his palm at that. Widower was what he heard often amongst their gossip. It added salt to an already festering wound, but he never sought to address their theories. Their whispers and the growing loneliness they caused was simply penance for his greatest sin.

It took a couple of weeks before church staff approached him as he was leaving the pew and gently urged him to go to confession. Perhaps you’ll find the peace you seek. 47 considered ignoring the man, but decided to visit the confessional before leaving. Inaction could lead to more unwanted attention upon his next visit, and he wasn’t quite ready to end his daily practice just yet.

47 pocketed the coin and knelt on the small cushion facing the screen, clasping his raised hands before him out of old habit. It took him barely a moment to realize something about the confessional was off. The old wicker pattern of the screen hindered his visibility of the other side, but he could determine by the hazy silhouette that it most certainly wasn’t the priest. And there was a scent he recognized, a fragrance so fresh and lightly floral that it easily masked the smells of aged wood and musty fabric of the worn cushion beneath him. It was a comforting scent, something unique that he thought he wouldn’t experience ever again.

His hands slowly dropped to the wooden bar in front of him. A familiar hand slipped through the gap beneath the screen, her slender fingers threading with his trembling ones. Diana gave him a gentle squeeze as he bent forth, resting his forehead on the soft reassuring warmth of her hand. He bowed his head in thanks, in reverence, a sinner blessed by the divine. 

His prayer had been answered.

[ao3feed-narlie]

swap me for your shadow

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/baviD9S by shootingforthestars what happens when things in your life don't go according to plan? what happens, for example, if you were a professional rugby player, and suddenly injuries, and now you're not? what do you do? what kind of future can you make from this present? how much is your past going to keep intruding? (the overuse of questions here isn't a mistake--you'll find the same in the fic itself. just pretend i'm an old, kindly philosopher sitting on a mountaintop somewhere and i'm determined not to tell you any answers, but rather seek them together...) Words: 6409, Chapters: 2/11, Language: English Fandoms: Heartstopper (TV), Heartstopper (Webcomic) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M Characters: Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper), Jane Spring, Oliver "Olly" Spring, Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, David Nelson (Heartstopper), Sarah Nelson, Victoria "Tori" Spring, Michael Holden (Solitaire), Harry Greene, Tao Xu, Elle Argent, Tara Jones, Darcy Olsson, Julio Spring, original but not overly important coworker and former partner characters Relationships: Nicholas "Nick" Nelson/Charles "Charlie" Spring, Elle Argent/Tao Xu, Tara Jones/Darcy Olsson, Jane Spring/Julio Spring, Sarah Nelson/Stéphane Nelson Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aged-Up Character(s), Museums, Meet-Cute, Therapy, London, Paris (City), Plot Twists, no i'm not going to tell you in the tags, what kind of sense would that make, tori spring as embodiment of divine wisdom, Angst with a Happy Ending, a journey back and forth through time, who is surprised? exactly no one read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/baviD9S

[super-unpredictable98]

https://at.tumblr.com/super-unpredictable98/do-you-think-klausstandards-are-really-high/tid8iygn00gt

Inch-resting . Doesn't that create problems in monogamy for him? Even if he doesn't cheat, just subconsciously starting liking someone else who seems to value you will create problems imo?

Taking this opportunity to ask for Klicky angsttt where Klaus genuinely has a crush on someone else - just someone he looked up to (like a teacher or anyone) eho validated him and had some thoughts but decided against it because he loved vicky a lot more .

Far From The Eyes, Close To The Heart | The Umbrella Academy AU

Pairing: Klaus x Vicky (OC - The Eighth Child’ Verse)

Word Count: 1,2 k

Warning: Strong language, angst

a/n: Yes! I believe he has issues with monogamy because he never really understood his feelings and what love is supposed to feel like. Thanks for the amazing suggestion and I love the ship name Klicky. Hope you like it <3

(Masterlist)

It had been over a year since Klaus fell into that alleyway and found himself completely lost in Dallas. Just as he managed to confess his feelings to Vicky... Of course that would happen, the little girl on the bike must really not like him.

Even though it didn't seem like he would ever meet any of his siblings again (except for Ben of course), a little voice in his head still held him back, saying they were still out there. Vicky was still out there waiting for him. Whenever he saw anything beautiful, he couldn't help remembering her and sometimes it would bring tears to his eyes.

The cult was full of attractive people who would most likely be willing to have sex with their leader. Sometimes it occurred to him the thought of sleeping with them, but always at the last second, he couldn't. He even failed to... get it up a few times, which he attributed to divine intervention. 

What really got him going was the memory of the few times he got to be with Victoria. He still remembered perfectly, the taste of her lips, the softness of her skin, the smell of her perfume. He remembered that electric sensation when she first kissed him in Vietnam, the excitement of waking up next to her, the whispered conversations they had when they thought the world was ending.

"Be alive, be alive, be alive..." he mumbled. It was taking longer than it did in Vietnam, it was getting harder and harder to hold out hope every day that passed.

"How long are you gonna stay out here pretending to meditate?" a voice called him as he sat under a tree next to the mansion. They had just returned from Greece and Klaus decided to buy the engagement ring, even though he didn't know if she would ever get to wear it.

"Hey, Justin," he turned around with a sad smile. "Why don't you sit down?"

Justin was a young man in his late 20s, tall and muscular, with wavy blonde hair and blue eyes. He had a nose that seemed sculpted and a velvety voice that could make anyone tremble. He wasn't technically part of the Destiny's Children, he was there simply because his younger (and much more gullible) brother, Matthew, decided to join about four months before that conversation took place.

He knew it was a cult, but Matthew didn't see it that way, so Justin followed wherever his brother went to protect him as they were both orphans since Justin was just a teenager. 

"Why do you say I'm pretending to meditate?" Klaus asked.

"Because I never heard the mantra be alive, it sounds more like a prayer."

"It is, but it doesn't mean I'm not meditating on it."

"Who are you praying for?" Justin asked. 

"My siblings, I think you know how that feels. I haven't seen them in so long."

Justin nodded. He didn't believe Klaus was a prophet, he didn't even believe the man knew what he was talking about most of the time, but he recognized a good person under all the bullshit and his crazy facade. That knowledge quickly turned into attraction, which quickly turned into a crush.

"I do, are you orphans too?" 

"Yeah, our father died just a while back and our mom... was crushed when our house collapsed."

"Really? Or is that more bullshit?"

"It's true. If you think all I say is bullshit then why are you still here?"

"You know why."

"Because of Marcus."

"Matthew," Justin corrected with a chuckle. "Yeah, him too."

Klaus noticed how the man looked at him, he knew that look well and it usually brought a cocky smirk to his face, but it was more complicated this time. 

First, there was Dave, then there was Vicky. Too many times he had his heart broken. Even though, he couldn't help imagining what it would be like being with Justin. A nice guy with his life somewhat together, wasn't embarrassed to demonstrate his feelings and treated him like he mattered. All of that made his heart race a little, but he would never admit it to Ben, who was always bugging him about it.

"Can I ask you a question?" Justin murmured, finally gathering the courage to say something.

"Yeah, but you'll probably say the answer is bullshit," Klaus laughed.

"Why have you never slept with anyone here? It's a house full of people, you must be attracted to at least one of them..."

"Honestly, at this point, I have no idea. It just doesn't feel right I guess."

"Is there anyone you would consider being with?" 

"Yeah, definitely."

Klaus and Justin exchanged a look. They both knew they were attracted to each other and more than that, they even liked each other, but so far none of them took the first step. 

Tired of waiting, Justin leaned in for a kiss, which Klaus reciprocated at first, but after a moment, he pulled away. 

"I- I can't," he breathed, though he hadn't felt that good in ages, he really missed the giddy feeling of being wanted and touched in that way.

"Why not?" the young man tried to not let his disappointment show.

"I'm already taken."

"By who?"

"Her name is Victoria, she's been the love of my life ever since I learned what love was. We grew up together and I knew deep inside she felt the same way, but we took too long to say anything and then I lost her. Now I don't know where she is, if she's alive, if she's doing well," Klaus' voice cracked as a tear rolled down his cheek. "There isn't one day I don't regret not saying something sooner, wasting all that time we could've spent together."

"She's a very lucky lady."

"I'm the lucky one. She's the most loving person I've ever met, she loved me when I was unlovable, when I was destroyed. I don't know what I ever did to deserve someone like her."

Saying those things out loud unlocked something in him and Klaus started sobbing for the first time in a long time. He imagined Vicky wouldn't like to see him cry and if she was alive she could probably hear him in her head, but he couldn't help it. He just missed her more than he could ever explain. He didn't feel like a person, part of him was empty, longing for that voice, that laugh. 

"It's all right!" Justin rubbed his back soothingly. "I thought you liked me... I was stupid, sorry I mixed things up."

"I do like you, that's the thing. You're very handsome and sweet, what's not to like? I just-"

"Love her."

"Yeah," Klaus breathed.

"Don't worry, I understand," he shrugged, though he was pretty much gutted as well. Even with all the sadness, he admired that devotion, it was beautiful and he hoped one day someone would feel the same way about him.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Victoria was working, dusting the display TVs while Elliott took a break. She heard loud and clear: I can't keep living without her. 

"I miss you too, Klausie," she whispered to herself.  

Tag List: @elliethesuperfruitlover @seanfalco @badsext @salvador-daley @firstpersonnarrator

[rainwolfheart]

Dragon Age worldstate and OCs

This is just an app-friendly version of my characters page so I can link it don't mind me.

Worldstate

Warden sided with the mages, Warden brokered peace, Warden sided with Caridin, Bhelen is king, Kieran is an OGB, Anora is queen, Alistair is a Warden, the Architect was killed.

Bethany is a Grey Warden, Hawke killed the Arishok, Hawke sided with the mages, Orsino isn't actually dead Varric made that up.

Inquisitor recruited the mages, Briala rules through Gaspard, the Grey Wardens were banished, no one was left in the Fade, Morrigan drank from the well, Leliana is Divine, Inquisition was disbanded, vowed to stop Solas.

Characters

❤️ current partner(s) 🖤 ex-partner(s) ⭐ best friend(s) All ages are as of 9:45 Dragon First six (Hawke to Rafael) are primary characters, others are secondary, sorted alphabetically by last name.

Hamish Amell Hawke

tag

Champion of Kirkwall

Hamish or Hal (if you're Leandra/the twins) · Hawke (if you're anyone else including Anders)

he/they · transmasc nonbinary

Fereldan half-elf · warrior/mage

Force Mage/Spirit Healer

9:06 Dragon · 39

bisexual

❤️ Anders Hawke

❤️ Justice

🖤 [QP] Varric Tethras

⭐ Fenris

⭐ Isabela

⭐ Varric Tethras

VO: Nicholas Boulton

ADHD bisexual disaster par excellence, has never sat normally on a chair in their life. Be gay, do crimes, punch templars. Currently on a mission to cure every Tranquil in Thedas.

Branna “Mason” Cadash

tag

Inquisition agent

Branna or Mason

she/her · cis woman

Orlesian surface dwarf · rogue

Tempest

9:13 Dragon · 32

bisexual

❤️ Lace Harding

⭐ Bram Kenric

⭐ Dorian Pavus

⭐ Rafael Trevelyan Roldán

VO: Laura Bailey

Uses her stone sense for party tricks. In a tense competition for “the Inquisition's biggest nerd” with Dorian. Forever salty about the Titan choosing Valta over her.

Kit Ivish

Lilah's Second

he/him · cis man

warrior caste Orzammar dwarf · warrior

9:14 Dragon · 31

gay

❤️ [QP] Lilah Hirmot

❤️ Dorian Pavus

VO: Travis Willingham

Kindest gentlest softest boy. Somehow manages to keep himself out of politics in spite of being married to an ambassador and in a relationship with a magister. His love language is food and so is his cat's.

Dael Mahariel Sabrae

tag

Warden-Commander of Ferelden

she/her · trans woman

Dalish elf · mage

Spirit Healer/Keeper/Arcane Warrior

9:08 Dragon · 37

bisexual

❤️ Alistair Mahariel

🖤 Merrill Alerion Sabrae

⭐ Sigrun

⭐ Velanna Tillahnnen

VO: Nia Roberts

All about repressing the angst and regret from the hero's journey. Fereldan in spite of herself. Not-super-subtly using the Grey Wardens to fight for mage and elf rights.

Marfisa Trevelyan Roldán

mage rights activist

Marfi or Mari

she/her · cis woman

Antivan-Marcher human · mage

9:09 Dragon · 36

straight

❤️ Gaël

⭐ Tyrdda Hildsdotten O Sunhold

⭐ Rafael Trevelyan Roldán

VO: Stephanie Beatriz (I don't actually know if she can do the right accent but w/e)

Her little brother cured her of Tranquility but she still embarasses him in front of his friends to keep him humble. They team up to keep the rest of the family humble, so it balances out. Has no time for Vivienne's Loyalist bullshit.

Rafael Trevelyan Roldán

tag

Inquisitor

Rafa or Raf · Lucky (if you're Varric)

he/him · trans man

Antivan-Marcher human · mage

Knight-Enchanter

9:11 Dragon · 34

bisexual

❤️ Dorian Pavus

❤️ Josephine Montilyet

⭐ Branna “Mason” Cadash

⭐ Lace Harding

⭐ Marfisa Trevelyan Roldán

VO: Harry Hadden-Paton

Did so many crimes for the mage underground at Ostwick it's not even funny. Peace was never an option. Scandalizing the nobility 24/7 by being in a poly marriage (but nobody is brave enough to argue with Divine Victoria over the definition of marriage).

Tyrdda Hildsdotten O Sunhold

Inquisition agent

she/her · trans woman

Avvar human · mage

9:03 Dragon · 42

straight

⭐ Marfisa Trevelyan Roldán

VO: Abigail Thorne

Augur who joined the Inquisition to help close the Breach, stayed because she's a nerd about learning from other mages. Spent like a month at Kinloch Hold as a kid before her dad broke her out. Sworn enemy of Solas for absolutely petty reasons.

Lilah Hirmot

Ambassador of House Hirmot to Minrathous

she/her · cis woman

noble caste Orzammar dwarf · warrior

9:13 Dragon · 32

aro-ace

❤️ [QP] Kit Ivish

⭐ Maevaris Tilani

VO: Ashley Johnson

Girlbossed her way into an inter-caste lavender marriage so her family would get off her fucking back and let her get back to work. Too powerful to go to the surface, she and Mae would just steamroll Tevinter politics, they had to nerf her. Lies for fun and profit and to annoy her husband.

Marijke Kader

Grey Warden

they/them · nonbinary

Orlesian surface dwarf · rogue

9:10 Dragon · 35

bisexual

❤️ Bethany Amell Hawke

⭐ Nathaniel Howe

VO: Erika Ishii

Grey Warden courier who has set and beat their own records for fastest times across Orlais and Ferelden. Loves horses but never learns their names because they don't want to get attached. Did not know that their girlfriend's brother was the Champion of Kirkwall until far longer than they're willing to admit.

Milo Surana-Amell

enchanter-turned-farmer

he/him · cis man

Fereldan city elf · mage

c. 9:10 Dragon · ~35

straight

❤️ Solona Surana-Amell

VO: Liam O'Brien

Survived Kinloch Hold without getting recruited to the Grey Wardens because he is a cringefail terrible mage. Proposed to Solona as soon as they heard the news that mages could get married in Ferelden and now they have a farm and 3 kids. Thinks he's good at haggling when he goes to the market, is actually terrible at haggling.

Solona Surana-Amell

enchanter-turned-farmer

she/her · cis woman

Fereldan-Marcher human · mage

c. 9:10 Dragon · ~35

straight

❤️ Milo Surana-Amell

VO: Erica Lindbeck

The “excuse me he asked for no pickles” meme but it's Solona standing in front of Milo. Is vaguely aware that her second cousin blew up the Chantry in Kirkwall or something and thinks that's dope. Is so excited to embarass her kids by being a “cool mom.”

[thecherrypitpie]

okay so the reveal that i've been quietly working on what my pals & i dub The Terrible Evil Project™ (TEP if you will) is a big solrook fic

however, i still have many competing ideas that i'm sorting out & am bringing one to the lot of you for a vote today

which inquisitor(ish) for the solrook worldstate?

- Sibella Trevelyan, inherited the title of Inquisitor following her father Alaric's death post-arm-dissolving & continues leading it as a branch of the Chantry under Divine Leliana Victoria (friends with Solas)

- Rasha Lavellan, former solas lover who has become increasingly disillusioned with him over the last decade, but is still hanging onto hope for him and for them (think of the angst)

[jt-boi-n7]

OC Twitter Profile Meme

Tagged by @natsora and inspired by @inquartata30 and @1esk19.

I also used the Social Dummy app and had too much damn fun.

Oh and did you ask for DMs? No, you didn't? WELL YOU'RE GONNA GET 'EM ANYWAY

[chaotic-good-hawke]

TMI Tuesday (if you're still accepting these): How would Damita feel about Leliana becoming Divine?

Thank you for asking, friend! 

Damita was very conflicted, at first. She is Andrastian, but she does not support the Chantry. She and Leliana had argued about her serving Divine Justinia. But, ultimately, she accepts that Leliana can do good in the role, bring real change to Thedas. And she does get quite a bit of pleasure being the elven mage wife of the Divine, arguably the most powerful person in Thedas. Not to say they don’t have issues because of it, but she does support her wife. 

So…I got a little carried away and inspired, so I wrote a little scene about them…

Divine Doubts, Damita x Leliana, 844 words

Val Royeaux looked thesame as the first time she saw it. Well, not quite. It was more familiar to besure, the lines of the opulent architecture not as jarring and wondrous. The scentof the sea was strong tonight, the wind blowing in the salty sea air andmingling with the floral scents that marked the city proper.   

Damita trekked throughthe night, to get to the city. She had been halfway to Skyhold, before she gotthe message saying Leliana would be in the capitol.

She had been out ofcontact too long.

Two years, two crazyyears tracking down a cure and finding…more questions. They had more leads,which some of the others were looking into, but they had been gone too long. Whenthey checked in at Soldier’s Peak, Damita found a pile of messages from Leli.After reading them, she immediately left, not truly believing the words sheread.

Reaching the Grand Cathedral,she retraced her steps, so often taken when she needed to find Leli, needed tovisit the quarters of the Left Hand of the Divine. She paced through thehallways and up the stairs, to the quarters of the Divine. She found a doorwith light spilling out from under the door.

Seeing no one, sheslipped into the rooms. Before her was a fire burning bright, a large deskcovered with neatly organized piles. Couches piled with pillows and landscape portraitson the wall. And there, there stood her love.

“My people said you werein the city. I cleared the way for you.” 

“Leli, how could you?” The words come tumblingout, much like her hair, which had blow out of her braids in the journey andhung freely in tousled curls as she pulled back her hood. Seeing Leli in thoserobes, the robes that even when she was the Left-Hand, she never wore. Formless,that ridiculous hat, the symbols of the Chantry stitched into every piece ofthe fabric.

“That is some way togreet me.” Leliana said, crossing her arms, her face blank. Well, blank tothose who didn’t know her. Damita could read the emotion on her love’s face, thetiniest tells that she was hurt.

“Leli…”

“You did not consult mebefore running away for 2 years! You left a note, a note! Barely communicatingwith me that whole time.” Leliana so rarely raised her voice, but her voicebroke ragged with defensive anger. “I tried to seek you out, to tell you whatwas happening here, but you weren’t here!”

“I did it for us!”Damita exclaimed, her own voice rough and strained.

“Why did you think Idid this?!” Leli shouted. They stared at each other, breathing heavy, hurt and confusedand…lonely.

Damita broke first,rushing the rest of the way in to embrace Leli, burying her face into hershoulder. Leliana wrapped her arms around her, one hand to her head, one to herback. They stood in silence for a while, hearing each other’s breathe, just takingin each other’s presence, but words still unsaid hanging heavy between them.

“Am I still your wife?”Damita asked, the shuddering uncertainty lacing her words. The thoughts thatplagued her the whole journey brought to bear: The Divine could not marry.

“Of course!” Lelianasaid, pulling back to look down at her love. She cupped her face. “I can changethings, Damita.” She kissed her forehead. “I will change things. The Chantrywill no longer be what it was. It will be what it was meant to be. A beacon,not an iron fist. No more Circles, just the freedom of the Maker’s light.”

Leliana traced thelines of worry on her wife’s face, her fingers finding the familiar trail offreckles.

“I’m married to theDivine?”

“Yes, love.” Lelianasaid, placing a kiss to Damita’s cheek, reassurance in her words and actions .

“Even though I am an elvenmage?”

“Yes, love.” Lelianareplied, placing another kiss on her other cheek. “You are my wife and nothingwill change that. I love you.” Leliana kissed her deeply, pressing years of longing into it. 

Damita finally broke the kiss. “Is this what you want?”Damita asked, pulling away to look at her.

Leliana paused and then replied with conviction. “Yes,love. It is.”

Damita sighed. “Then Iwill be at your side, whatever comes.” Her bright purple eyes looked up at Leliana, holding hergaze, and then she frowned. “But we have to do something about that hat… and Iam not calling you Victoria.”

Leliana laughed, reliefflooding her face as she smiled, well and truly smiled. She pulled off the offendingarticle and swooped up Damita in her arms, whose own face broke into a grin.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,Leli.”

In the firelight, theyheld each other close, the troubles of the future set aside for the night. Theywould figure it out, together. Fight and hash it out tomorrow. But for tonight,they had each other and that was enough.  

[jt-boi-n7]

Welcome to Divine Victoria hell! It's warm, comfortable, and there's plenty of chairs to curl up and cry on.

Okay look I get that a romantic relationship doesn’t have to be physical to be fulfilling and I respect that greatly but physicality definitely seemed to be a part of the canon Cassandra/Inquisitor dynamic in the main game so how does Divine Cassandra induct the Inquisitor into her personal guard and then NOT make out with/bone the living daylights out of them every time they pass each other in the hallway because like?? having the love of your life as your bodyguard is just Super Hot I mean does she make them wear a paper bag over their head all of the time or something?? what the hell kind of eldritch willpower,,,

[imdoingaokay]

Romanced DAI Companions + Solas and Varric with an GN!Inquisitor being poisoned!

A/N: Hi guys, I am in fact, alive. I love angst so much so... I decided to make this! Don't worry, I made this angst with a happy ending!

Oh, and this takes place AFTER TRESPASSER.

I tried to keep it ambiguous whether or not the Inquisition disbanded or not, but I do feel like I leaned towards the disbanding idea.

TW: Poison, potential death (yikes), just a tiny bit of smut (but it's lowkey classy?)

After the Exalted Council, there had been plenty of… new developments. A few months had passed and the Inquisition was finally settling down. Whether by joining in with Divine Victoria or by disbanding completely, the Inquisition was losing numbers. And while they didn’t want to admit it, most of the Inquisition were slightly relieved that it was over. Starry-eyed rookies were able to go home with some more experience, and veterans were able to have one last ride before retirement. And the Inquisitor, along with their lover, was able to settle down with the person they loved. At least, in a way.

The final day of Skyhold’s moving out had come, and as the sun set, an elf had requested some time with the Inquisitor, wanting to thank them in private for their aid for some long-forgotten side quest they had completed earlier.

The Inquisitor was kind enough to say yes, and the pair walked out on the battlements for a few moments.

But an hour passed, and the elf and the Inquisitor had not appeared. So a few remaining soldiers and the Inquisitor’s lover had set out to search for them, only to find them laying against the cold stone of the wall.

The healers confirmed the worst of their fears, it was poison, no doubt from the elf on behalf of Fen'harel. The poison was fast acting, and would surely kill the Inquisitor by morning. In the great hall, the healers encouraged the Inquisitor’s lover to go to their side and say their goodbyes. Unless some sort of miracle happened, this was the end of the Inquisitor.

And after a climb up an endless flight of stairs, they made it to the door of their lover’s room.

Blackwall/Thom Rainer: Thom has never had much control over his life, at least… that’s what he thinks. During his time as Blackwall, he was controlled by the name, the title that came with his identity. And once he was freed of that, he could choose, he could control his life. And now his life, his love… they were slipping away.

He entered the Inquisitor’s room and realized that he was losing them.

“Hey…” He heard his lover coo, holding out a hand to Thom. He nearly stumbles over his feet to reach his lover’s hand, and eventually falls to his knees by the side of the bed.

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly, relishing the feeling of The Inquisitor’s hand on his cheek, even if it is freezing.

“Don’t be, it was never your fault. It couldn’t have been.” They smile, “It’s going to be okay, you know.” They say, and Thom almost believes it.

He doesn’t dare crawl into bed with them, so instead, he merely sits beside them. He pulls up a chair and quietly holds their hand, carefully inspecting their chest, waiting for the moment when it stops rising and falling.

But it doesn’t.

Their breath is shallow but steadily gets stronger as the night goes on. Warmth and color return to their skin, and eventually, they sit up in bed. Thom refuses to leave their side and refuses to sleep. At least, not until the Inquisitor can get out of bed on their own and walk around. And even then, he waits until the pair have left Skyhold and find themselves in an inn nearby the mountains. Thom locks the door tightly and bars the windows and door to ensure safety. Then he climbs into bed, clinging onto his lover, and passes out. 

Cassandra: She doesn’t cry. She’s felt this anguish before, it isn’t new.

She quietly sits on her lover’s bed and shares a pained expression with her beloved.

“I’m sorry, Cassandra.” They say quietly, “You deserved better.”

Cassandra doesn’t bother to answer. She merely sighs and takes their hand, 

“No. Please don’t. Perhaps this is a sign from the Maker, maybe I am not to love again-” Cassandra begins, only to be cut off.

“Cassandra, please.” They say, “Please don’t give up, you deserve love. If you find someone, please don’t deny yourself that feeling. I didn’t, and look at me, I just so happened to fall in love with the same woman who could’ve beaten my ass when we first met.” They smile, and Cassandra can’t help but smile back.

They don’t stop talking, reciting love poems and stories to one another. Cassandra finds herself curled up and comfortable next to her partner.

The night drags on and tiredness lulls the pair to sleep, but when Cassandra wakes, she finds her lover still breathing. Sleepily, they ask for “another few moments” as she sits up.

A sign from the Maker, for sure. A sign that her partner isn’t leaving her anytime soon.

Cullen Rutherford: He knew something was wrong. The second the elf walked out with his spouse he got a terrible feeling in his stomach. Not even ten minutes had passed before Cullen began to start wandering around Skyhold, under the guise of ensuring everything went accordingly. But once an hour had passed, Cullen got desperate. It was his mabari that found his love first, sniffing the trail that led him to the dying Inquisitor before leading Cullen right to them.

When Cullen found them, he nearly blew up in rage. He was luckily calm enough to pick up his love and carry them to the healers, calling out for help.

He stayed by their side for every moment, and when he was told by the healers that it was too late, he angrily sent them out. He leaned over the railing as he watched the healers file out of the door.

“Cullen…” He heard a weak call to him from the bed. Cullen immediately turned and rushed toward his love.

“I’m here, my love.” He smiles, taking their hand in his. He freezes for a split second and he feels how cold his spouse’s hands are before he meets their gaze.

“I’m sorry…” They sigh, but Cullen shushes them, bringing his other hand to their cheek. He feels his eyes fill with tears as he watches his Inquisitor drift in and out of consciousness. Their mabari stood guard on the bed, laying their chin on the Inquisitor’s stomach.

When he was certain his love had fallen asleep, Cullen got on his knees. And with his spouse’s hand intertwined with his, he prayed. He prayed for a chance, a chance for his love to live. He prayed for forgiveness for his selfishness, the selfishness that caused him to want his love to stay for a bit longer. And he prayed for strength, for if the Maker decided to take his love away, he would make the world feel his wrath.

Luckily, the Maker answered only the first two of those prayers, as the next day the Inquisitor woke. They looked over to their husband, who had fallen asleep hours prior from sheer panic and exhaustion, and the Inquisitor slowly began to rouse him.

Cullen woke when he felt something push his hair back, which had fallen all over his face in his anguish the night prior. When he opened his eyes, he saw his beloved smile at him, and he thought he had died for a moment.

“Maker’s breath.” He spoke, cupping his lover’s face into a passionate kiss that was rudely interrupted by a healer barging their way in to give funeral rites.

Cullen should’ve been mad, and he would’ve been, if not for the relief he felt as his spouse kindly answered the healer’s questions and politely shooed them away. Cullen had been unable to take his eyes off his love and nearly tackled them afterward.

The two spent the next few hours in each other’s arms, and Cullen quietly whispered into their neck another prayer… this one was for more time the two could spend together.

Dorian Pavus: After blowing up at the healers for their “lackluster effort in healing their Inquisitor,” he’s a mix of anger and pain. He had planned to leave the next day for Tevinter, planning on leaving his Amatus for Maker knows how long, and he was still worried to bits. But, of course, they have to die right before he leaves them. Talk about dramatic.

He angrily marches up the stairs, intending to scold his lover for their carelessness, for their soft-hearted nature, anything to distract himself from the inevitable demise of the one person he loves more than anything else. But, as he climbs the stairs and gets to his partner’s door, he stops. He’s quiet for a moment before opening the door and slowly stepping up the final flight of stairs.

“Dorian…” He hears, and he can’t help but break. There is a moment when he wonders why his vision is so blurry, but the warm, wet tears streaming down his face give him his answer.

“Are you alright?” He manages to get out.

“I’m fine.” His lover coos, reaching out to Dorian’s hand.

“Bloody liar. I know that isn’t true.” Dorian scoffs, still greedily taking the hand of his Amatus as he huffs.

“Dorian, I love you.” They say, and Dorian wants to scream.

“Shut up, you’re going to be fine.” Dorian denies it, squeezing his lover’s hand ever so tightly.

“Hm… alright. I’ll take your word for it.” They smile their thumb stroking Dorian’s hand. Dorian sighs before letting his hand go slack.

“I love you too, you… soft, foolish, dramatic bastard.” He grumbles to his lover, lowering his gaze to their hand.

The night goes on without incident. Dorian claims he didn’t fall asleep, but it was the Inquisitor who noticed his lover’s eyelids begin to droop before Dorian rested his head against the mattress, fingers still intertwined.

The next morning, Dorian wakes up to a thumb stroking his hand, and he looks up from tear-stained sheets to see a smiling Inquisitor.

“Good morning.” The Inquisitor greets, and Dorian can’t help but sigh. Dorian jumps into bed with his Inquisitor, wrapping his arms around them tightly. The worst of this poison is over.

Over the next day or so, Dorian “convinces” a very eager Inquisitor to journey with him to Tevinter, under the condition that it is only for a few weeks while Dorian makes sure the Inquisitor makes a full and speedy recovery.

Tragic how the Inquisitor stays for far longer, hm?

Iron Bull: He was one of the first to find them. He’s familiar with the specific type of poison, and he knows that he got there too late. He stays by their side the entire time, refusing to part by their bedside. It doesn’t take long for him to realize that his Kadan is dying. When they awake, Bull is quietly sitting beside them, holding their hand in his much larger one.

Bull doesn’t know what exactly he should do, he’s never had someone this close to him… someone he cared for so deeply… die.

He makes them an offer, a final dinner… in a way. One last night between the two of them, no Inquisition, no pain, just… them. It doesn’t come from a place of horniness or anything, just a desire to be close to his Kadan one last time.

If the Inquisitor refuses, he respects it and decides to stay by their side, quietly watching them as they drift to sleep.

If they accept, Bull goes slow, watching for the effects of the poison to get worse. He brings his lover to their peak, then back to center multiple times before he even bothers taking care of himself, but once he does, the sun has already risen above the mountains. And the Inquisitor seems like they’re in far better shape.

Regardless, Bull lovingly watches them, and can’t help but get a burst of pride when the healers congratulate them for fighting the poison in their system. 

His Kadan is one formidable badass. And he’s more than happy to admit that.

Josephine Montilyet: “My love” She nearly sobs, rushing over to her lover’s bedside.

“This is all my fault, I should’ve… could’ve…” She sniffles and grips the hand of the Inquisitor tighter than ever.

“Josie…” A soothing voice lulls her back to reality, and she can’t help but meet the gaze of her lover, “You did… all you could.” They say sweetly, squeezing her hand gently.

Josephine wants to argue, but the look her lover gives her makes her sigh.

“I suppose… I suppose you are right…” She says, “I… I don’t want you to leave me.” She says gently, sitting on the side of the bed.

“I’m not gone yet, am I?” They say, and Josephine lets out a laugh.

“I suppose not.”

The night passes rather quickly, the Inquisitor distracting Josephine with questions and stories about her life. She’s halfway into her 17th story about Yvette when a healer comes in, astonished by the Inquisitor’s survival. That is the moment when Josephine turns and finally realizes the sun is up.

“I told you I wasn’t gone yet… I don’t intend on leaving you anytime soon, Josie.” They say, and that’s when Josephine has to fight the tears in her eyes while the healer confirms the poison is no longer a threat.

The second the healer leaves, however, is when Josephine bursts into tears once more.

Sera: She refuses to see them at first. Crossing her arms and turning away from the door. “No, I’m not gonna see them like that.” She states, “They… they aren’t gonna see me like this either.” She huffs, marching away to pack a few of the things she had left in Skyhold.

The night drags on and she can’t get her mind off her Inky, and soon enough, she’s sprinting up the stairs.

“Inky? Honey tongue? Tadwinks?” She calls out, progressively louder as she climbs the seemingly endless flight of stairs. “Sera.” She hears, finally getting to the very top. She’s breathing heavier than she ever thought possible. Sera rushes over to her Inky’s bed and quickly wraps them in the tightest hug they will ever feel. “I’m sorry, I am, I jus- I couldn’t see you like that. Like this… but if this is the last time-” Sera blubbers

“It’s not, dear.” They say, kissing the cheek of their wife, “If I survived Haven, the Anchor, and a shit ton of the undead, I’ll survive this.” They smile, and Sera relaxes.

“I… I guess that makes sense… it’s just… they stupid wizards… they say…”

“They’ve said a lot of things, haven’t they?” The Inquisitor shrugs.

Sera giggles before getting up once more, this time to properly lay down next to her Inky.

“I don’t want to fall asleep.” She says, “I don’t want you to fall asleep either… so… can we just talk… about what we’re gonna do?” She asks and promptly passes out an hour later.

The next morning, she’s woken up by a clamor, and for a moment she panics. But once she sees her lover’s hand around hers, warm and periodically squeezing, she relaxes. She relaxes more so when she hears her Inky’s voice quietly respond to the healer’s frantic questions.

The healers leave after basically clearing the Inquisitor, and Sera, in response, passes out once more, having far better dreams than earlier.

Extra: 

Solas: He was enraged. The elf was supposed to merely watch the Inquisition, not carry out an assassination!

Solas knew he couldn’t see his vhenan, not in person. But that night, after his anger had somewhat subsided, he watched his vhenan in The Fade.

They lay in a faux meadow, surrounded by wildflowers that stretched out seemingly endlessly. No trees for him to hide behind, no shadows to watch them from, so he took a risk and got close. He curled around them as a wolf, his vhenan using him as a pillow. He watched them teeter between life and death. And Solas couldn’t help but feel a type of anguish he never knew, so many regrets, so much pain. He quietly prayed and wished for his vhenan to live, to survive, and to open their eyes for him. And luckily, or unluckily, they did. It was only for a moment, and Solas had relished it selfishly.

The Inquisitor spoke but they were silent, their mouth opened and closed, and their hand had gone to his fur, gripping it tightly. Solas wanted to stay for longer, to lay with his vhenan, but instead, he watched the flowers of the meadows slowly dissipate. 

His vhenan was waking up, they would survive. That is what he desired, yet he found himself only in more pain, he wanted them to stay. He wanted to lounge in the dreams his vhenan had created for eternity. He closed his eyes and prayed the Inquisitor forgave him, prayed they didn’t blame him, even though he knew he deserved none of that. But he feels the hand on his fur disappear, and he knows that they’re gone.

He knew he nearly faltered, his vhenan has that impact on him. 

They always have, and they always will.

Varric Tethras: Death truly follows Varric everywhere he goes.

He solemnly walks up the stairs and stops himself before he enters the door. 

What does he say? What does he do?

Varric doesn’t know, so he returns to his default.

“Hey!��� He smiles, meeting the gaze of his love.

“Varric…” They coo sweetly, causing him to falter and crack.

“I…” He sighs and returns to his lover’s side. “I love you so much.” He says quietly, clinging onto their hand for dear life.

“Lay by my side, please.” He hears, and he can’t help but let out a pained laugh, crawling beside them.

“As you wish.” He says, watching his lover wrap their arms around him,

“Take off your shirt.” They order, and Varric obliges.

“You trying to have one last hurrah with me?” He jokes.

“No, I just want to fall asleep next to you.” They huff.

“Fall asleep... huh.” He sighs.

“Shush. We’re sleeping… and tomorrow, we’re going to Kirkwall so I can meet Aveline.” The Inquisitor says.

“I forgot… the I have to take you to The Hanged Man, right?” He smiles, petting his lover’s head.

“Mhm, and then we go to the gallows so I can see what the fuss was all about.” He hears his lover yawn. So Varric continues.

“Yup, then we tour Hightown.” He begins, lulling his lover to sleep.

And sometime in the night, Varric falls asleep too.

And the next morning, when the healers enter the room, Varric silently watches with a smile as his lover was told they are cleared and allowed to travel with him back to Kirkwall. 

But he knows he’ll be watching his lover like a hawk while the pair is there, he isn’t letting that little stunt happen again.

[oro-e-diamanti]

Puppet Masterlist | Puppet Taglist | Buy me a coffee?

It's the day of the gig. But that doesn't mean the night is over once the band leaves the stage.

Content: Bit of smut, bit of angst, bit of comfort?

Word count: 3.1k

Lesson Thirteen: Safewords are made to be used.

You had spent the day on your own. Berlin was gorgeous and a perfect place to keep your mind off things - being around the band would have only made you go insane with nerves at the prospect of finally dressing Thomas in your blouse for the gig that night. So after an awkward stumble out of Ethan's room that morning you had waved goodbye to the four of them for the day and promised to meet back with them that night at the venue. Yet, you weren't able to completely forget about it. As you were sitting in a café, sipping on a hot drink involving way too much caffeine and people watching, everyone and everything seemed to remind you of the four people you had spent the last few weeks with. A head of hair that just looked like Thomas' tousled mane. A pair of trousers you knew would make Victoria's hips look amazing. A shade of red on someone's lips that you wanted to put on Damiano. A tall man with long dark hair who, upon turning around, couldn't even get close to the beauty that was Ethan.

You allowed yourself to let it all go into your drawings. There was no point trying to push their influence away as it was, so you decided to embrace it. You ended up sketching for hours, working and creating until your hand started hurting, not allowing yourself to think too much about any of the details, not erasing a single line, simply letting the inspiration of the city and your head full of thoughts guide you. Your feet carried you away from the cafe as it became too awkward to overstay your welcome there any longer, letting the streets of Berlin inspire and motivate you. You couldn't resist the temptation of the vintage clothing shops, ending up with more than a few purchases.

Dusk was on the verge of breaking when you finally left, rushing back to the hotel to get changed for the concert, gathering your things, and calling a cab to bring you back to the four people you had somehow managed to miss, even when the separation was only fleeting.

***

"Vic, I swear to God, if you steal my fucking Gucci butt plug one more time-"

Backstage was pure chaos. They hadn't played a show in a while so not only were everyone's nerves tense and their adrenaline spiking, but the usual order of events wasn't flowing quite so naturally as it did a few days into any sort of tour. It didn't help that Vic was in one of her moods, mischievous to the bone and on the right track to pissing absolutely everyone off. You knew it was her way of dealing with the nerves, but that didn't mean she wasn't annoying the whole team.

You left her to her own devices as you vanished into a room with Thomas instead. He was already wearing your blouse and if you were being honest, it looked even better than it had done in your imagination. In fact, he looked positively divine. The white material was flowing over his skin, natural and soft, sleeves wide enough to evoke a silk-like effect without restricting his guitar playing, chest and back on show.

"Do you like it?" You asked, insecurity still ringing in your voice. Just because you were in love with the piece didn't mean he was - and nothing was more important than him being comfortable during the concert.

Thomas turned towards you, surprise painting his face as he saw the doubt in yours. In a single, large stride he was in front of you, hands on your cheeks, angling your head upwards to force you to look at him.

"I love it." Bending down to your height, he put a small, soft kiss on your lips, leaving your heart racing and your worries erased. You couldn't help smiling back up at him, tender eyes pulling you in. You just about managed to leave another quick kiss on his mouth before the door burst open.

"Five minutes!" Victoria's voice was something between a shout and a melodic tune. You weren't sure if it was actually five minutes until stage time at all or if she simply needed to stir chaos and get attention, but Thomas let go of you, both of you exchanging smiles as he went after her to amuse her. You could only chuckle. They were a mess of a group, chaotic and confusing, but loving and caring and you were ecstatic to call them your friends. Or maybe something more.

***

The gig was small and sweaty and it was the first time you had seen the band play live in years, so it was little surprise that they ended up blowing your mind. Thomas held onto the blouse for as long as he could before it was positively drenched in sweat and then threw it right at your face as you watched from the side of the stage, laughing at the squeal you let out as the wet material hit your skin. All of them played their hearts out, the audience giving back just as much and you couldn't help having a little dance and a singalong by yourself, intermittently noticed by the band who would throw you smiles and in the case of Damiano the occasional kiss.

You would have thought they were out of energy when they finished their show after a rousing encore of Lividi Sui Gomiti, but apparently, the adrenaline was still running high and energy was still searching for an outlet. Before you knew it, you were back at the hotel in Vic's room, where everyone met back up again after their showers to get changed for a night out.

"Wait - is that the club you told us about?" Damiano questioned as he stared at the address Vic had sent to his phone. "You know, that one?"

The way Damiano had said it caught your attention.

"Wait, where are you planning on taking me?" You asked right as Vic was handing you a top to wear that looked more like a fancy bra than anything else. "That's too revealing, I'm not gonna go out like this."

"I think that will still be one of the least revealing outfits there," Ethan commented, thoughtfully, as he mustered your boots, shorts, and the top in your hand.

You looked around the room. You were easily the most dressed out of the five of you. You were used to the band dressing in extravagant ways, often not wearing much at all on stage, full of harnesses and chains and other bondage-inspired accessories, but it wasn't usually the look they went for when they went out by themselves afterward. Too much attention.

"Okay, honestly, guys, where the fuck are we going?"

Ethan and Damiano only smirked. Thomas wasn't meeting your eye - you felt like he wasn't too sold on the whole affair either, but who was he to turn down a party.

"It's a rock club," Victoria finally explained. "But the twist is..." You wanted to strangle her for long she paused for, just to push you over the edge of anticipation. "...you are allowed, and, in fact, encouraged to have sex there."

"I'm sorry, what now?"

"You don't have to, obviously. You don't have to do anything. It's just the fact that it's allowed so... you'll definitely see some things. And if you wanna join in, this is the time and place. No phones allowed either, they take them off you when you enter. But if you genuinely feel uncomfortable, we don't have to go, you know."

You looked between the four of them, studying their expressions one by one. This seemed to be way out of your league. It was a lot, and it was possibly too soon. But you trusted them with your life. They'd be there with you the whole time, they'd never push you to do anything you didn't agree to, and they wouldn't hesitate to leave if you asked for it. It was time to step out of your comfort zone.

"Vic? Give me that bra."

***

You weren't quite sure what you had been expecting, but the club, two floors with a number of different rooms, stuffed with people clad in next to nothing involved in heavy make-out sessions and - as far as you could tell - some slightly more intimate things in certain rooms - was overwhelming, to say the least. You didn't necessarily feel uncomfortable, there was no rush or pressure to participate in anything at all, or even pay attention, but there was a vibe in the air that you hadn't felt in any other club or party setting ever. You would lie if you said it didn't intrigue you a little.

You kept close to Thomas for now. Everyone had dispersed pretty quickly upon entering but you didn't quite want to explore on your own yet. Thomas didn't seem too interested in the shenanigans happening, so you followed him onto the middle of the dance floor where people's minds were occupied with the music playing and a lot of dancing. He fit right in, pulling all of his signature moves, no one even bothering to give it a second glance. It improved your mood immensely. He pulled you in easily, making you join and forget about the fact that you couldn't move to the beat if your life depended on it, and let go.

You couldn't tell how long you were there for, simply letting Thomas swing and twist you around until you were shaking with laughter and joy. You weren't paying much attention to the happening around you, but you figured the main action past some heavy make-out sessions wasn't bound to happen in the middle of the main dance floor anyway. But then Thomas needed the loo (you politely declined the offer to follow him there) and suddenly you were on your own. Feeling rather lost and a little self-conscious in the middle of a big room, you went searching for some other familiar faces.

You found Ethan at the bar, deep in conversation with a stranger. He gave you a smile as you passed by, a hand briefly wandering along your body, not even faltering in his talk. You did your best to stay calm and collected.

You found Victoria in one of the smaller rooms, leaning against a wall, drink in hand, intently watching two girls next to her. One of them had the other pressed against the wall, leaving wet kisses along her neck, her hand disappearing somewhere you couldn't see in the dark lighting. Vic seemed to be spurring them on, whispering into both of their ears interchangeably. You decided to leave them to it.

Damiano found you on your way to no place in particular. He pulled you into a different room, back into the blaring music, immediately drawing you close and wrapping his arms around you. You could tell he's had a drink, easily more intoxicated than you, by the way he moved and by the way he was clinging to you. You embraced it, letting him whisk you away. You let your arms fall around his neck, as his held your waist tightly, making dancing almost impossible, but neither of you minded as you kept trying. He kissed you, desperate and needy, not much technique left in his apparent search for more. His lips were warm and inviting against yours and you found your hands wandering to the back of his head, grabbing onto his hair. 

He couldn't seem to stay still. His hands were wandering up and down your body, searching for the abundance of naked skin you had on show, fingers trailing past your bum to dance over your thighs, before coming back up, over the small of your back, harshly grabbing at your hips, thumbs stroking you softly in contrast. Moving up, they grazed the underside of your top, almost touching your breasts. When he stopped, you looked up at him, trying to figure out what had gotten him so distracted. It wasn't difficult to find out.

Following his line of sight, you could spot a couple locked in a messy kiss, their dancing reduced to not much more than a way of rubbing against each other, his knee moving between her legs, pushing against her in ways that had her moaning and breaking the kiss. You couldn't hear her over the music, but the sight of it was enough. It was hot and sexy and it felt forbidden to watch even with the knowledge that they did this well aware of their audience.

Damiano's interest was obvious - not just in the way he stared, but in the way he pressed against you. His cock was hardening noticeably through the thin material of his shorts. He turned back towards you, eyes darkening in a way you could make out even in the low light. Grabbing onto your face, he pulled you back into a kiss, hard and bruising. He overpowered you easily, letting you fall and give him control. Your hands were still slung around his neck, but he tugged on one of your arms until he could take hold of your hand. He didn't pull back as he dragged your hand down between both of your bodies, clumsily moving it over his chest, only covered by a sheer top, lower and lower. He didn't stop when you reached the waistband of his shorts. You could feel his hard length clearly now, every single detail about it prominently bulging through the material and into your hand. 

As you applied some pressure, he wrecked his mouth away from yours, shamelessly throwing his head back in a moan. A head or two turned.

It felt like a thousand heads.

You could feel the eyes on you, watching you, staring, judging your every move, waiting for more, waiting for a scene.

The rational part of your brain tried to tell you it was all in your mind, that this was a club for exactly this sort of thing, no judgement, no one would care apart from for their own pleasure, there were no phones, no cameras, this was a safe space. It got drowned out too easily by the part of your brain that started to panic.

Not a safe place, not a safe place, not a safe place.

Damiano's eyes were closed and he was still moving your hand ever so slightly against himself as the panic rose up in you. A white-hot feeling seemed to travel through your whole body. Your mind went into overdrive. You didn't want this. It came out of nowhere. You weren't having fun. You weren't feeling comfortable. Your eyes were darting around the room, convinced you were the sole center of an unwanted type of attention, filling you up with shame and horror.

You have to stop, you have to stop, stop it now, tell him, let him know, use your safewords, tell him to slow down, tell him yellow yellow yellow-

"Red."

You weren't sure how Damiano heard over the music and the general noise of everything that happened around you, but it seemed like he'd been hit by lightning the second the word reached his ears. He was off you immediately, a welcomed distance as his hands let go of you completely, not a single part of him touching you anymore. You didn't dare meet his eye, staring everywhere but at his face. You felt embarrassed and uncomfortable, as if you had let him down and ruined a situation you should have been fine in but somehow weren't. You hated the feeling.

"What's going on?"

Victoria seemed to appear out of nowhere and she didn't miss the situation happening in front of her. She looked back and forth between you and Damiano, waiting for an answer, obviously unsure as to how to continue.

"We were making out and-" Damiano stammered for a moment, apparently just as overwhelmed as you. "I took it too far, I didn't check in with her, I was too distracted, and she said red."

Vic didn't hesitate, turning towards you. "Do you want to leave?"

You nodded.

"Is it okay if I touch you?"

Another nod.

Her hand was gentle on the small of your back, a stark contrast to the touch you had felt from Damiano's hands before. You gathered the courage to look into her eyes, only just noticing the tears stinging in your own when you did. Her face was full of empathy as she returned your nod. You barely remembered the way out of the club or into the waiting taxi. Only when you sat down next to her in the backseat, immediately searching for her body and her comfort, did you feel like you were breathing again.

"You did the right thing, cucciola," Vic whispered as she wrapped her arm around you protectively. "There's no shame, okay? Safewords are made to be used. Our traffic light system is made to be used. That's why we taught you. You found a boundary of yours and you spoke up. I'm really proud of you."

You felt like crying, but in a good way now. Her words soothed your soul so perfectly, reassuring you and comforting you exactly the way you needed to be reassured and comforted. She was perfect. The way back to the hotel wasn't long, but she made sure to hold you and put little kisses on the top of your head all the way. She was safety.

Victoria held your hand as you left the taxi, she held it as you went up the elevator, and she held it as she led you to her room. You easily follower her lead, trusting her explicitly and the way she seemed to magically know what you needed. She jumped in the shower with you, washing your hair, scrubbing your body until you felt clean and whole again. Then she wrapped you into a towel and blowdried your hair. When she moved you into her cozy double bed you felt warm. She snuggled in next to you, making sure to always be close, always touch you in some way. You curled up like a cat, simply content to be in her arms.

"Sleep now," she whispered with another kiss, this time to your temple. "You did everything right. And we all love you. Always."

You sighed as sleep started to take over. You almost missed the last sentence she mumbled, but you couldn't bite back the grin when you heard.

"And tomorrow, if you feel like it, you'll let mommy take care of you."

After all, Vic was still Vic. Always.

***

Taglist: @till-you-scream-and-cry ​ @ethaneskin @damianodavide @itsmaneskinbitch @blackberryblossom @lifeofa-fangirl @bethanysnow @noeprd27 @polygraph-paperplane @iambandlover @xx-x-frxnny @thewitchinthemountain @arrelia-hunter26 @crazyonthelines @vicbellaangelis @mortyandem @icarodamiano @Ursulalurks @Aapjesopeenfiets @xmusse @tellmesomething01 @elvirabelle @moonlight-simp @little-moonbeam-666 @maneslut @theimpossiblehologramtree @ha-la-ansia @l0standn0tf0und @iamtashaquinn @myleftsock (sorry, it won't let me tag you, it's either something in your settings or Tumblr being Tumblr) @maneskintifoso @katmoonz @dreaming-with-happiness @que--sera--sera @cuzimitaliano @wow-ihateithere @searchingford @damianossigaretta @purrthehouse @gr8rainbowpunk @littledropsofheaven @randombush3 @klavedeservesthegoddamnworld @wonderlandishell

[cixteenyne]

Gone For good (2 - Aftermath)

I’m happy this was actually liked! enjoy!

Genre: Angst, Hurt-No Comfort

Prompt: Cheating (continued) Part 1

CELESTIA WELCOMES YOU, DIVINE ONE

It was the type of shock of putting hours of dedication into an exam, just to fail. Nmh, this must be how Noelle felt, yes? 

Well it was fucking unbearable.

 For him, he didn't know how you were holding up. You avoided him at all costs, his cockiness told him that you'd break down at the sight of him, hating that you still loved him. It wasn't true, but he still kept hope.

When he found out you weren't coming back, he quickly put together as to why. It was Keaya after all. Ever the cunning. He didn't know you were still in Mondstat, thought you escaped him through Liyue, or the infamous Inazuma. The tavern became his best friend, but oddly enough, Diluc became scarce. He never spoke a word to Diluc, entering. Drinking. Spacing. Leaving. But never a word, a glance. Nothing, but he would act as if nothing happened if confronted.

He always acted as if nothing happened, as if he didn't just shatter your self esteem, your heart, what you thought were genuine ‘i love you’s. It enraged you. The type of rage of knowing that acceptance just wasn't an option any more, screaming your lungs out sounded better.

So that's what you did. You did it all the time, if your voice got meek from yelling, you'd wait it out, let it heal, and do it all again.

He would probably get so much sick ‘revenge’ out of knowing how much he was getting to you, that the thought of him could cause you to wear yourself out. So his earlier thought wasn't much of a lie, you would break at the sight of him, but not quite in sadness.

You woke up at the same time every night. 4:30AM. The time he would slip into bed, soundless. Cunning. Donning that coy smile he knew you would forgive. How agonizing.

It was because of this that walks became the norm for you. You'd get up. 4:30. Coat. house key. Shoes. Walk. repeat.

It helped, it really did. You'd say hi to vendors setting up shop in the race to set up early. You enjoyed it, it made you happy. Something you couldn't be ever since he did what he did.

Another stranger, wave.

 Blue eyed woman, wave. 

Blondie, nod. 

Sister Victoria, be respectful, nod, wave, fix that posture.

You'd always end up in the pathed woods, 5:44. A cycle. 

Walk. walk faster. Stranger, smile. 

You made a mistake, apologize. 

“Sorry, i wasn't looki-” 

“(name)”.

You felt that same frustration build up in your chest. It felt constricting. Uncomfortable. Really, it did.

You kept walking, walking, he just followed, followed. That stupid serene look on his face, that stupid “were friends” look. You weren't friends, far from it, you couldn't stand his voice, so you ignored him. Couldn't bear to see his face, that smile, so you kept your eyes on the ground.

Until he wouldn't allow it anymore. 

You were pretty much a long way from Mondstat by now. You knew that. 6:21. You didn't care. You just wanted him to go away. You haven't said a word to him since you bumped into him, couldn't he just take the hint,

 What's wrong with him? 

Why does he think he can just waltz into your life again?! 

JUST WHAT WAS HE TRYING TO PU-

“What's got you so worked up”

What.

What?

The question hit you like a brick wall, a smooth surface you couldn't grab or climb over, the frustration bubbled to your throat, 

it felt like hot metal stuck in your throat, but not hot enough to hurt, just enough to make you angrier

You didn't realize in your stupor that you asked that out loud.

So you continued just as he tried to.

“Wel-” 

“What’s-.got me work up?” you asked in an incredulous tone, genuinely stupefied.

“Are you fucking stupid?”

A silent lingered, tense and wary.

He looked at you, such a stupid unaffected look on his face.

“No, I'm not, i was just asking, because i ca-”

You didn't let him finish, he didn't deserve to finish that fucking sentence, he didn't deserve to just stroll up to you as if nothing was wrong.

“Don't fucking finish that sentence you absolute asshole, you don't get to say that you fucking care, you don't! You never did, if you cared so much about what happened to me, we'd still be together prick!” You were out of breath, breathing with so much anger, you didn't grieve anymore. you wouldn't. He didn't deserve your sadness, not even your anger, but you needed this, you couldn't afford to care right now.

He seemed startled, as if he hadn’t expected what you said, as if he expected you to cry and beg him not to do it again. Give him another chance, though, a part of him didn't want the chance, he knew he didn't deserve you. He knew. He just didn't want to admit he had lost you.

But at some point his attention was snapped to you as you began to hiss out with such hate he didn't know you were capable of.

“Or would you still be fucking donna like she's your wife?” You said it as if he were a guilty criminal, which in a sense, he was, he absolutely was. But he also had to think.

Would he?

When he was dating you he had a mindset of ‘knowing he would not get caught”...’wrapped around his finger’, so, if that dating were still going on….- he was frozen as he admitted to himself that-

He would.

You seemed to register his silence as a yes, and no matter how much you hated him, you knew there was a time where his love was real, so genuine, so pure. So wanting.

You hadn't even noticed you began to cry, no sounds, just tears, anger, and realization

The realization that you just weren't ok with letting him go, but hated him to the very core. How could you let go of so many memories, even if for him it was just pretend, for you it was real, so real that you let it get bad, so real that you would sit and let him play house with you for a little longer. And it was a time too long, because now look where you are.

He had hugged you some seconds ago, you wanted to pull away, but you needed this just as much, even if he knew he could never have you again, he could at least have this, this is the least he could have before you left him, forever to be someone else's. gone.

Gone for good.

[ao3feed-narlie]

swap me for your shadow

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/xOBRa5l by shootingforthestars what happens when things in your life don't go according to plan? what happens, for example, if you were a professional rugby player, and suddenly injuries, and now you're not? what do you do? what kind of future can you make from this present? how much is your past going to keep intruding? (the overuse of questions here isn't a mistake--you'll find the same in the fic itself. just pretend i'm an old, kindly philosopher sitting on a mountaintop somewhere and i'm determined not to tell you any answers, but rather seek them together...) Words: 3014, Chapters: 1/11, Language: English Fandoms: Heartstopper (TV), Heartstopper (Webcomic) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M Characters: Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper), Jane Spring, Oliver "Olly" Spring, Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, David Nelson (Heartstopper), Sarah Nelson, Victoria "Tori" Spring, Michael Holden (Solitaire), Harry Greene, Tao Xu, Elle Argent, Tara Jones, Darcy Olsson, Julio Spring, original but not overly important coworker and former partner characters Relationships: Nicholas "Nick" Nelson/Charles "Charlie" Spring, Elle Argent/Tao Xu, Tara Jones/Darcy Olsson, Jane Spring/Julio Spring, Sarah Nelson/Stéphane Nelson Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aged-Up Character(s), Museums, Meet-Cute, Therapy, London, Paris (City), Plot Twists, no i'm not going to tell you in the tags, what kind of sense would that make, tori spring as embodiment of divine wisdom, Angst with a Happy Ending, a journey back and forth through time, who is surprised? exactly no one read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/xOBRa5l

[mlm-writer]

Cassandra (Cassandra Pentaghast/Divine Victioria x GN!Reader)

Pairing: Cassandra Pentaghast/Divine Victoria x Gender Neutral Human/Elf Reader Rating: Explicit Words: 970 POV: Second Summary: To Thedas, she is Divine Victoria and people look towards her for answers. To you, she is Cassandra and you look towards her with love. Note: Woooo first day of kinktober! And also the first female character on this blog. See my kinktober 2022 masterlist here. Reader’s genitals are not mentioned at all and reader could be the inquisitor or not.   Tags: pegging, fluff and smut, with a little bit of angst, fingering, nicknames and face sitting

“You continue to surprise me, Most Holy,” you mused, though your words turned to moans halfway through. “I was not aware Her Eminence was even allowed to…” Her Eminence shut you up with a very good curl of her fingers inside you. 

Once the sound had run its course and you were left breathless, you lifted your head to look at Divine Victoria through the mirror across from the large bed covered in the most luxurious fabrics. “Though what we do here is… unconventional, it is not forbidden,” she informed you as a matter-of-fact. You buried your face back into the red fabric underneath you, moaning into it as Victoria added a third finger. 

You were at her complete mercy. There were no restraints, no spells and no obligation to be where you were. You were in your current predicament of your own volition and there was no place you’d rather be. “My love,” you sighed into the silken bed covers as you raised your head to look at Her Holiness once more, “please, I am going mad.”

She showed you mercy, her fingers leaving you and the cold glass of her artificial member pressing against your hot entrance. “Say my name,” Victoria demanded. 

“Victoria.”

“No, my real name.” 

You hesitated. You should not be calling her that. It was not her name anymore. She sighed and leaned down, wrapping her arms around you. You understood then. Your light in the darkness was dimming, getting burned out by the burdens of a tragedy-struck world. To everyone else she could be Most Holy, the answer to every question, but here, with you, she just needed to be… her. “Cassandra, my love, my guiding light and home, please, become one with me.” Your eyes met through the mirror and she knew right away of your awareness of the weight on her shoulders. A relieved smile painted itself on her face.

Cassandra leaned back so you had room to turn over onto your back. You bent your knees and smiled at your dearest as she shuffled closer to you. “You have such a way with words,” she spoke, trying to be condescending, but you could see the pink dusting her ears. You smirked up at her and reached out to her with one hand, running your thumb along her cheek scar. 

Then she pushed inside you and you were unable to form any words. From her smug face, you could tell she did it to shut you up, before you said more cheesy things. Her hand also cupped your face, caressing the skin with the same adoration as you showed her. “Do you have any idea how often you’ve crossed my mind?” You inquired through the building pleasure. Your beloved sighed, knowing you were going to say something super cheesy, that would annoy and fluster her. Instead of falling for your trap, she pulled her hips back and pressed back inside of you languidly. This was your time together and no one was going to take it away from you. 

You whimpered, but it did not put you off your mission of turning the love of your life cherry red. “It is just once. You have never left my mind since the moment I met you.” Cassandra told you to shut up, but there was no fire in her voice. You grabbed her face with both hands and pulled it down, until your foreheads pressed together and your breaths mingled. You closed your eyes, concentrating on her thrusts and breath. “Sorry, my beloved, one day I might look at you and never be able to look away at all.” She told you to shut up again, this time with a hard thrust. 

The result was not silence, but rather a loud moan that even surprised yourself. “You are close, are you not?” You nodded in reply to her inquiry. She pressed her lips against yours and increased the speed of her movements. You moaned into her mouth, until your orgasm was imminent. 

You threw your head back. “Cassandra, Cassandra,” you chanted, until your body stiffened, every muscle pulling taut, and the wave of an orgasm crashed over you. You had barely regained a sense of reality, when a familiar smell filled your nostrils, followed by a wet cunt being pressed against your mouth. You noticed the toy still being inside you and you tried to keep it in, while licking up Cassandra’s juices. She moaned in satisfaction as you put all your leftover energy into stimulating her clit with your fingers, while working her inner walls with your tongue. 

You moaned into her pussy, letting her know she was an unrivalled feast to your appetite. She moaned your name in return, her hand on your head guiding you towards her orgasm. Out of seemingly nowhere, the toy slipped out of you and you moaned in surprise. The vibrations made Cassandra tighten her thighs around your head and you sped up your moves, stimulating her through an orgasm that made her entire body tremble. 

You continued, until Cassandra lifted herself off your face. When you finally opened your eyes, you saw a sight that confirmed the existence of the Maker. She was truly Most Holy. She was truly perfection in a human form. Your dearest, most beloved Cassandra Pentaghast, the definition of eminence.

“Watch out, my love, I think you might be on the road of never being able to look away,” she spoke softly as she laid down next to you. You scoffed and pulled her closer to you. Lips met each other like old lovers after a war. You did not part, until the need for air became more pressing than your desire. 

“I have been on that road since the moment I set my eyes on you for the first time.”

-----------------------

PLEASE REBLOG/REPLY TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WRITER