#dragon age x male reader

[mlm-writer]

Atish'an (Dorian x M!Reader)

Pairing:  Dorian Pavus x Male Elf Inquisitor (trans-friendly) Rating: General Audiences Words: 1306 POV: Second Summary: The inquisitor is having feeling for the Tevinter, but the tragedy of a past lost make it hard to act on those feelings. Tags: hurt & comfort, love confession (?), flirting, Dorian's fabulous moustache, getting together (?), Elven language & dash of angst

A tingling sensation danced  like a warm fire over your lips. It had been a while since you had speed-walked towards your chambers, but you still felt it. It was lingering like a ghost, a remnant. You touched your lips lightly, replaying the abrupt kiss Dorian gave you after Mother Giselle accused him of being some sort of bad influence. Maybe he was. You didn’t care though. 

Your hand reflexively reached up to the pendant hanging from your neck. The simple jewellery wasn’t worth a single piece of gold, but you had made sure it survived the conclave, the journey through time and the attack on Haven. The thin chain was starting to get some wear and tear from your nervous fiddling and the pendant itself was losing its outer coating. “Zevwen,” you whispered the name into the cold air, like a soft prayer for your long gone lover. It had been a good decade ago, but you could recall the last day you heard his voice crystal clear.

He was pale as the snow in the mountains. The only colour on his visage was the redness around his eyes. Fingers, thin and trembling, lightly held onto yours. His voice had been a mere fragment of what it used to be. “Ma vhenan, you were meant for great things; I have always seen legends in your soul.” Such a convoluted way to tell you to live on, venture away from the clan and carve your own path. You did just that a few months ago; look where that got you. 

A deep sigh left your lips, before you rose from where you were seated on the edge of the bed. You tucked the pendant back under your clothes and went on to be the Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste, the random guy who is going to defeat Corypheus. No big deal. 

—

The Winter Palace was as grand as the Game was despicable. In the grand mess of schemes and murder, Dorian seemed to have enjoyed himself in some way. You suspected he would mingle well with the nobility. A few times when you passed him by, a young Orlesian woman was trying to woo him. The forbiddeness of a Tevinter man was very popular among the younger ladies. It was somewhat amusing to see Dorian suffer through tactfully rejecting them one by one, without causing a political debacle that would torture Josephine for months to come. 

“There was an ancient dowager looking for you. Said she had twelve daughters. I told her you left already.” Dorian made his grand entrance on the balcony. There was really no hiding from him. “You can thank me later or now, but… you look distracted. Something on your mind?” You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. It had been a wild night, but even as an entire empire was on the verge of crumbling, you had often found your mind drift to the way he was filling out that ridiculous red tunic. 

“Did you need me for something?” You finally turn your head to really look at him; that was a mistake. Steel grey eyes bore into your soul, searching for answers to inquiries he had not even made yet. You tried to keep your expression neutral, hiding your emotions beneath a blanket of professionalism. 

Dorian turned towards you, one arm handsomely leaning on the edge of the balcony. “Oh, I always need you for something.” He gave you another one of those insincere charming smiles; you were both inept at expressing honest emotions. “I would say the question remains whether you need me, but I know you do. Afterall, you would not have extended the invitation of the scheming marquis if you didn’t.” His arm waved around in a grand motion. You hummed and nodded in reply, knowing he would continue talking no matter what your reaction was. “In any case, I know what you need now too. A distraction.” He pushed himself off the stone and offered you a hand. “Dance with me, Inquisitor.” 

A smile creeped onto your face. You tried to hide it by looking down, but you knew Dorian had already seen it. Without a word, you took his hand. He pulled you into the empty space on the balcony. The music drifted through the slit between the doors, guiding your intimate dance under the night sky. Josephine had appointed you a dance teacher for tonight, so you would fit in, but Orlesian nobility apparently danced differently from the Tevinter nobility. It was hard to anticipate Dorian’s movements. Maybe it was just Dorian, ever the storm, the chaos, the novelty. Maybe Dorian actually didn’t know how to dance. 

Nonetheless, he held your eyes hostage with his. The warmth of his body seeped through your fancy clothes. The sweet scent of his perfume filled your nose. He was everywhere around you, making your heart race and heat rise to your face. You dipped him; matching smiles adorned both your faces. “This is the moment you kiss the evil magister, Inquisitor.” His soft-spoken, alluring words broke the spell. Anxiety creeped up your spine. You pulled him up and let him go. “Or not,” Dorian added without hiding the disappointment in his tone. 

You took a steadying breath and rubbed your face. “Sorry… We… We need to talk.” When you looked at Dorian again, he had his arms crossed. He seemed to be waiting for you to continue speaking. It seemed like he had his mind sorted already and it was just you who needed to talk. You leaned over the edge of the balcony, avoiding eye contact. “Please do not misunderstand. I do like you. I just…” The emotions clogged your throat. Dorian slid into the space beside you. He put one of his strong arms across your shoulders, pulling you against him. You leaned against him, finding peace in his presence. Another calming breath helped you find your words again. “I have lost someone dear to me before… We did not even live a perilous life back then and we…” A rough chuckle escaped your tight throat. Dorian waited patiently for your every word. “I thought I would spend my life with him, but illness got a hold of him before our future could. I do not know if my heart is strong enough for another loss like that.” 

You allowed yourself to lay your eyes upon Dorian again. For once, the Tevinter seemed to be serious. He pulled you close against him, resting his head against yours. “I cannot promise you will never lose me, but I can promise you that I will make every second of joy worth any possible moment of mourning.” His voice vibrated through your body, lulling you into comfort. “It is not good for the skin to be mourning me while I am still alive.” 

You couldn’t suppress the chuckle bubbling up. You turned towards Dorian. He faced you, a confident smirk on his lips, but fear of rejection hidden in his eyes. “You’re right. I should not mourn you while you’re still breathing.” You caressed his face, playing briefly with that wonderful moustache. “I’d like to pick this up without the Orlesian court lurking around the corner, if you’d let me.” 

Dorian took your hand and placed a gallant kiss on your knuckles. “I am quite looking forward to what exactly you will be picking up, Inquisitor.” His grin churned your insides in a way that was both frightening and delightful. “Until then.” His fingers lingered on yours as he slowly let go of your hand with a flirtatious wink. Dorian turned to walk away, hips swaying a little with every step he took to leave the balcony. He left you more fearful than ever, but also -  for the first time in a long while - hopeful. 

—————

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[bigfan-fanfic]

Home Now (Male!HoF x Alistair Theirin)

I don't know. Can I just get some Alistair and male warden being adorkable together after their first night together?

"The Maker has blessed us." Alistair winks. "We've been granted a day of rest."

You raise an eyebrow at him, and he grins, looking up at the the softly vibrating fabric of the tent as it shakes from the heavy raindrops hitting it.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, chuckling a little.

"We can't possibly make it to Denerim today in this rain. So... we should just stay in here."

"Alistair..."

"Please. Let me have this, Y/N. Last night was absolutely amazing, and... I don't want to have to be Wardens yet."

"I wasn't going to deny you." You chuckle. "I want to stay with you too."

He gives a nervous laugh and leans down for a kiss.

You happily sit up to meet him, and you both tumble back down into the bedroll, his arms wrapped around you.

"I love you." Alistair mumbles, and you bury your face in his neck. "Is that too early to say?"

"I think I knew that from the moment you gave me that rose."

He blushes and you kiss him again. "I love you too."

The morning is spent sheltering from the rain, cuddling with Alistair and simply talking, a big dog curled up and snoring softly in the tent with you.

When it lets up, it's past noon, and everyone is hungry.

Sten and Leliana are taking care of the meal, which means that Zevran and Morrigan immediately see you both and have very different reactions in the same category.

Morrigan gives you a look that clearly indicates that she has serious doubts about your taste.

While Zevran grins. "Ah. I see you two have finally sorted out your, ahem, tension."

Morrigan rolls her eyes. "At least we will no longer be subjected to the longing looks."

"Or the searing gazes."

"Or the-"

"Alright!" Alistair yelps, looking at you in abject embarrassment.

You kiss him right there in the middle of camp, no longer caring about Morrigan's disdain, Zevran's interest, Leliana's grins, or Wynne's disapproval.

He melts into it, completely forgetting other people are around.

"Get used to it." you say firmly to them all, and pull Alistair over to a log, practically sitting in his lap.

"I like seeing you get all... bossy."

"Bossy?" You smirk.

"Well... Commanding. That's the word."

"As I recall, you do prefer to follow, right?"

His mouth falls open. "I was- I, er, I, that... hooo.... that was in reference to the chains of command."

"Ah, so you enjoy chains as well?"

"I-" Alistair nearly goes cross-eyed. "That... do you have some?"

You laugh and kiss his cheek. "I'll get some. For us."

"Sweet Maker..."

"You look adorable when you blush."

He blushes fiercely and then smashes a kiss against your lips. You yelp, the sound cut off and strangled into a moan as he holds you close.

"Ah, your weakness. You can't tease me while I kiss you."

"I am at your mercy, Ser."

Morrigan smacks the soup pot, making a loud noise. "IF you are quite finished, we are eating now. Though you've ruined my appetite."

The two of you chuckle, a little embarrassed now, and hurry in for bowls.

"I don't expect a repeat of last night, by no means, but... I'd be honored if you shared my tent again." Alistair whispers to you during dinner.

"I'd be happy if we never slept apart again."

"Oh, Y/N... I'd be the happiest man alive."

"I'll see you tonight, then."

"All the nights."

[freestyle-crocodile-trashpile]

Thighs

Summary:No matter the situation, you always have a hand on their thigh

Type:Hcs: Krem X M!Reader: Josephine X M!Reader: Iron Bull X M!Reader: Solas X M!Reader

Version:Inquisition

Josephine

She must admit, it did make her alittle flustered

Especially since you did it so often

More specifically, everytime you sit sat next to eachother

But she doesn't mind

Krem

He started thinking it was a subconscious thing

Mainly because you did it everytime you say next to him, even if people could see

It use to annoy him, but now be doesn't mind at much

He actually now waits for it, he enjoys the warmth

Solas

It would definitely surprise him, but only the first few times would he push your hand off

Mainly because he was embarrassed

He still is, but now be only looks away from your hand

To avoid the blush

Iron Bull

He finds it amusing

Especially if you're surprised the first time with how big his thighs really are

He doesn't mind in the slightest, hw actually enjoys it

It's nice having a more loving contact rather than a lustful one

[A/n: Back again with the thighs. I hope you enjoyed]

[dreamedaboutboys]

HI GUYS

I'm new here and I want to introduce myself!

I'm 21 and I really like writing stuff and play videogames, so, I decided to create this blog! Here I want to post about some characters I love, write HCs or just talk about them in asks! 

So, if you want, just come to my asks and ask things like " what would * do?" " How are cuddles with * ?"

The fandoms and characters I like are here and the rules are here.

Thank you!

[skelebellie]

desiderium

emmrich volkarin x gender neutral mournwatch!rook

a/n: my last poll solrook vs emmrich ended, and emmrich won. so here’s a treat since im not as busy right now (for 24 hrs). i see a lot of fics making emmrich as some sort of master sex man, but i think there are some real insecurities that would arise out of an age difference relationship. also- i wanted to write carnally down bad rook. also exploring mournwatch rook.

rook does not have any physical descriptors

Warning: Mature. No explicitly sexually themes, suggestive content. slight angst w/ comfort. fluff?

i.e. rook gets FREAKY

Rook settled into Emmrich’s chair comfortably. Their feet pulled underneath them as they poured over one of his tomes. Before his joining, Rook was left throwing stones off the edge of the Lighthouse to see how far they could keep an eye on it before it blipped out into the endless sea of the fade. Emmrich settled at the end of his desk, flipping through a series of scrolls and papers detailing a recent surge of events through the fade. Even if he wasn’t in the Grand Necropolis, he tended to keep busy. It wasn’t the most exciting thing, reading in the presence of their partner, but it was a welcomed contrast to the insanity that followed with fighting ancient elven gods. While Varric described them as a straight thinker and often getting themselves into more trouble than good, it was nice to take off the mask.

However, anxieties were bubbling under the surface regarding their relationship with Emmrich. Nothing remarkably concerning, but they sensed some form of… hesitation. Emmrich had made it very clear how much they loved them, and their neck wasn’t safe from a surprise kiss or the gentle whisper of words. However, outside of that, their romance had been relatively tame. Not that it had upset them, they both had agreed to take it slow. Rook hadn’t been in a previous relationship, as they were far too busy under the Mourn Watch to consider the notion in the past.

For all purposes, Emmrich was exceptionally transparent with their relationship. Even so, Emmrich seemed- how did Harding describe it- mopey? Languid kisses ended earlier, his hands hesitated, and some nights they were even denied the comforting embrace of their lover arms.

Which lead to the moment before them, Rook’s eyes locked onto Emmrich as he continued to read. Only stopping to make eye contact with Rook, the flames of the fireplace dancing across his skin.

“You’re starring, dear.” Emmrich commented, raising his head lightly, the glint of his glasses catching against the golden ember of the room.

“It’s hard not too when you’re so distracting.” Rook responded, closing their book and giving Emmrich a cheeky grin.

“Your compliments find me at the most unique moments.”

Emmrich's words were always well constructed. Even at their most focused Rook could barely knock him off his feet with their flirting. However, Rook also became keenly aware that Emmrich wouldn’t accept said compliment.

Truthfully, it frustrated them to no end. Since they hadn’t escalleted their relationship, Rook made a point to constantly praise Emmrich. It was impairitive that he understand how much they loved him. Especially with the continued teasing from the rest of the group.

A silence fell between the two. However, unlike the prior calm, an air of unpleasantness settled. Emmrich’s eyes stared at Rook as the cogs in their brain ticked and spun.

“Do you not desire me sexually, Emmrich?” Rook responded, voice rather blunt for such a crude comment. Instead of being filled with frustration, their face fell to curiosity- understanding. Rook wasn’t unaware of the different forms of love that were followed across Thedas. Sex didnt equal love, and not all love had to involve sex. So while their initial comment was one meant to open the doors to a productive conversation, it may have come off as accusatory.

“Excuse me?” Emmrich responded, shock evident across his creased eyebrows.

“Do you feel sexual attraction to me? Arousal? Excitement at the idea of my naked”, They rambled, before being swiftly cut off.

“Im well aware of what you mean. What Im wondering is why you would ask such a thing?” His voice turned serious, slightly intimidated at the conversation at hand.

Emmrich had his own demons. He was an accomplished necromancer, reasercher, and professor. But in the ways of long-term love, he had his own failings. Prior to meeting Rook, he had accepted that he would be entombed alone. And while he did love Rook, there were lingering doubts about their relationship.

Could he keep up with Rook? They were much younger, and lacked experience- would it have been better for them to get with someone like Davrin or Taash? Live out the fleeting moments of sexual exileration and lust from a partner their age? Was he fulfilling their needs, or was in inadvertently tying them down? Emmrich had no discourse concerning the age difference, other than the time they would spend apart. Was it selfish of him to love such a young beauty, only to leave them behind? Did Rook even desire him in that way- or was he far from what they wanted physically?

These questions riddled his brain until the night fell silent. And while Emmrich considered himself calm and collected, these worries had inadvertently began to affect the way the treated Rook. Hesitation and doubt imbued with his touch like a sickening virus.

Rook returned a less serious look to Emmrich. “You’ve been hesitant. I dont find your hand on my waist as often, and the physical contact between us has been few and far between. I even walked in earlier this week with some of my buttons undone and you had the gall to button it back up.”

“Im not mad- I understand relationships all take different shapes and forms. But I felt it was a point we needed to address.” They replied, their gaze softening at Emmrich. While they had enough confidence to rival that of Solas’, there was something disheartening at the idea that your partner didnt feel attracted to you. Let alone not find you desirable.

Emmrich’s voice came out soft, and apologetic.

“Oh Dear,” He said quietly, raising up from his seat and discarding his paperwork as he made his way across his quarters. Arriving infront of Rook, taking the book out of their hands and placing it onto the side table. Replacing the leather bound texture with the smoothness of his hands.

“It’s not like that at all. I had no idea I had been coming across as prudish- it’s just that-“, His voice failed him momentarily. Emmrich wasn’t shy, his sexual past was quite adventurous compared to his peers. But for some reason, the daunting idea of not being enough was sufficient to cause doubt within him. His fingertips rubbing over Rook’s palms as he thought.

“Of course I find you attractive. I find myself staring at you when you aren’t looking, unable to peel my eyes away from you- afraid to miss the smallest detail about you. My desire for you, both mind and body, bubbles beneath my skin in the most inappropriate of times.” He coughed out, albeit a bit embarrassed at the sudden confession.

A gentle sigh escaped Emmrich’s nose.

“It’s just that I worry. Nothing more than the ramblings of an older man.” He replied, aiming to settle the conversation with minimal details.

Although, this would not work on Rook. They had spent far too many nights solving the problems of their teammates. And their relationship with Emmrich made it even more transparent to them that something was on his mind.

“Love, please, talk to me.” Rook whispered, standing up from their seat to meet their eyes with Emmrich’s. A pleading look engrained from their eyes to the deepest part of their soul.

A silent moment passed between them, the necromancers shoulders relaxing as a breath he didnt even know he was holding escaped. He didnt want to bother his lover with such trivial things, but he found that they often wormed their way in anyhow. Grateful to be a shoulder of understanding and acceptance. Quietly, he pulled Rook back towards his desk, guiding them with a gentle grip. As he pulled his partner closer, he settled himself at the edge of his desk, shortening himself just enough so that they were eye level with each other.

“It’s not that I don’t find you absolutely enticing, far from it. More so, I am worried about my own endeavors.” Emmrich babbled, his eyes falling to the hands he cradled within his own. Admiring the contrast of his grave jewelry amongst Rooks skin.

“Such as?” Rook asked.

“I find that there are looming doubts within me. That I may not be enough for you- physically. There are far younger individuals who could fulfill my place. At my age, there are much more… compatible suitors. for you” He admitted.

Rook looked back at Emmrich, their face filled with worry. It’s not as if this thought hadn’t crossed their mind. Although, their worries didnt involve their compatibility, sexually or otherwise. They were far more worried about how others would view Emmrich, or if they were fulfilling his needs.

But the momentary falter in their gaze drove Emmrich’s stomach to the bottom of his abdomen. Their hesitancy a personal confirmation of his deepest doubts.

“I see you have your own doubts. I knew It was selfish of me to-“ He responded, gently pushing back against Rook. Only to be met with a force pushing against him, keeping him against the edge of the desk.

“Emmrich, you are not the one who decides who and what I am attracted to.” Rook responded firmly, tone absent of their usual jovial and forgiving nature. Honestly, it shocked Emmrich to see this side of them, the one usually reserved for the battlefield- for a leader.

“I am not ignorant of our differences in age. But do not think for a moment that you had “tricked” me into anything. I knew very well what I was getting into when I decided to pursue you.” They responded, a gentle yet firm hand coming up to rest underneath Emmrich’s chin, closing the small space between the two. Rooks eyes shifted their gaze from soft to an almost peering look. Looking across Emmrich’s face with rigid admiration, as if viewing one of the hundreds of phantasmal paintings that covered the Grand Necropolis.

“It would be amiss of me to not recongnize that being raised by skeletons and spirits in the Grand Necropolis turned my attraction to an… older audience. One that I can assure you fall into.” Rook divulged. Their thumb running across the bottom of Emmrich’s lip, admiring the way the muscle gave way to their finger.

“Darling, I didn’t intend to assume…” Emmrich whispered, his hands settling on their lowers hips given their proximity. Rooks gaze alighting a rumbling heat in his pelvis. There was something about Rooks eyes- the look belonging not to some hesitant, inexperienced lover. Rather, someone who knew exactly what they wanted.

“And yet you did.” Rook responded, shortening the distance between the two until Emmrich was forced to place a hand on his desk in order to maintain his balance.

“I can assure you, I am not without my desires. I am simply good at hiding them. I may be inexperienced, dear, but I am not unknowledgeable about what I want. I just thought it would better to keep said intentions to myself until we discussed it further. However, Im beginning to understand that you are a man of action, not words.” They continued, their hand traveling across the outside of Emmrichs thigh, fingers dancing along the side seam in a manner that caused his leg to shake.

“Must I show you my hunger? Reveal to you the heat that scorches my body until it’s the only thing I think about? How some days you leave my thoughts reduced to its only basic instinct?”

Rooks hand continued upwards, palming across Emmrich’s abdomen as he let out belittled breaths in return. The skillful hands of a mortalitasi unbuttoning his exterior vest to untuck his undershirt. Rooks head dipped into the crook of Emmrich’s neck, quickly removing the skull lapel across his neck to unbutton the top buttons of his undershirt. Needing to pay hommeage to the caratoid artery that kept the object of their desire alive. Belated breaths tickling across the pale skin before them. Tantalising close, as their own wants teetered out from under their control.

“Dearest- I- Please-“ Emmrich responded, his words finally reaching Rooks ears as his other hand clenched across their back. Torn between an embrace and halting them all together.

Softly, Rook’s hand drifted under his shirt, teasing at skin they couldn’t see. There was something arousing about finally getting to touch the skin Emmrich constantly kept covering up. Their feelings at odds with each other as they took the moment to explore. Dip their fingers into his back dimples and forgotten scars as if ingraining it within their memory for a later day. Although, their attention would quickly return to Emmrichs neck. Planting hungry kisses down to his trapezoid, far below the collar.

“Desire is a fools word, Professor. What I feel towards you is not as simple as a want- it’s an obsession. I need you just as much as the blood beneath my skin and the air in my lungs. If I could, I would devour you until we were one and the same.” Rook recounted, before planting wet kisses along the crevices of Emmrich’s life line. Alternating between biting and sucking the skin. Drowning the room out before them in a mixture of heated gasps, soft moans, and the until the fire within Rooks stomach settled into a gentle simmer. Their back only slightly sore from Emmrich’s grasp, before they finally leaned back. Revealing the dischevled Professor, his hair tussled and sweat on his brow. Not that rook looked any better.

Rook paused for a moment, allowing them both to catch their breath, before they removed the hand underneath Emmrich’s under clothes and placing it against his cheek. Relishing in the feeling of stubble just beneath their palm.

“I assume I have been quite demonstrative as towards my intentions?” Rook responded.

Emmrich could only give a wide eyed look, his face teetering on embarrassment and arousal. Shock could barely describe the revelation he just had.

“I think you’ve been quite clear, dear.”

[callahanisms]

inquisition companions react to the inquisitor missing half their arm

because bioware didn’t wanna give it to us, i decided i’d just do it myself. (insert thanos meme) even though i am like years late to the hype.

the game is like 9 years old at this point, but spoilers ahead.

do keep in mind this is my own personal interpretation of each character. it may not be accurate to your own interpretations. (also i know leliana is technically not a companion in inquisition but i included her anyways)

cassandra pentaghast

if cassandra could plunge a knife into the heart of solas, she would. she would not let him get away with betraying you and taking the anchor along with your arm. you had basically fallen into her arms when you emerged from the portal and she had to carry you back to halamshiral. for the days you were unconscious, cassandra was anxious and extra prickly. there were many times where cullen would have to talk her down from her anger. even varric did too.

dorian pavus

the first thing he did was crack a joke. the atmosphere was tense and it just slipped out. “i asked you to come back in one piece, not missing one.” safe to say, the other companions did not approve of his joke. dorian was set to return to tevinter after being notified of his new position as a magister, but he delayed the return to his homeland for you. he sat in your room as you lied unconscious, barely breathing, leg anxious bouncing up and down. when you awoke, you were immediately met with a large and tight hug from him. he knocked the air out of your lungs from that.

blackwall

blackwall admires you. in fact, everyone would go so far as to say he adores you. he thinks of you as strong, capable, almost infallible. you closed rifts, you closed the big green tear in the sky, and you defeated corypheus! what couldn’t you do? all your feats proved to him that you were the strongest leader he could ever know. and yet, you were still mortal. you left the eluvians mortally wounded and exhausted beyond belief, your eyelids so heavy and ready to close so you may drift off into the black void of sleep. blackwall would not let you, not until you were taken away to be cared for. you found him sitting besides you, awake and on guard. your mortality was his reminder that you and him were the same, even if your lives appeared to be completely different. and he understood that the world would need a leader like you and that is dangerous.

iron bull

the bull could feel a stronger kinship with you that day. it appears that the both of you lost something. he betrayed the qun for the inquisition, thus losing a part of himself, his people. you lost a literal part of yourself, something you had to come to terms with after having the anchor for two years. to say iron bull was shaken up would be an understatement. he was getting cassandra to hit him with sticks for days on end while you lied unconscious. he wondered what would’ve happened if he was with you, if maybe...he could’ve stopped solas. but reminiscing never did anyone any good.

cole

as much as he wanted to help you, cole couldn’t. he also understood that you wouldn’t accept his help, no matter how much he insisted. so instead, he did the best thing he could do: help tend to your injuries. what was curious was that he could feel very little of your pain. when he felt your pain two years ago after forming the inquisition, it was concentrated in your hand and forearm. with it gone, you felt at peace. the primary source of pain for you had been washed away. perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, he thought.

sera

sera’s immediate reaction is, like dorian, to crack a joke. everyone is used to her eccentricity. but it felt different this time around. while you laid unconscious, recovering from the long battle, she occupied herself. she had to busy her hands and her legs, keep moving, keep her mind busy. because if she sat too still for even a second, then her mind would think about the worst outcome. she would get images of you, dead, because solas had betrayed you, betrayed her, betrayed the inquisition. hell, he betrayed the world! that knob! thinking he knew what was best! sera’s all the more relieved when it’s revealed you survived. she bursts through the door to see you and hug you tightly, complaining about how much you scared her.

varric tethras

in all honesty, varric should’ve been more prepared to expect...well, the unexpected. he had expectations of you coming out unharmed, untouched. obviously, that was not what happened. and he wondered if he was responsible for this. he had been one of the many people to support you as the inquisitor two years ago, suggesting it. he wondered if he made the wrong decision. but also, part of varric was relieved. he lost someone close to him two years ago. he didn’t know if he could handle losing you too.

vivienne de fer

the court would devour tales of the eluvians and how you managed to survive. that was vivienne’s first thought. people would be talking about you for centuries to come, certainly. and yet, she knew in her soul that was not what you would want. she does her best to minimize what rumors spread when you first emerge from the eluvians and help give you privacy. behind closed doors, vivienne checks on your injuries. part of her is amazed that the anchor was removed so cleanly.

josephine montilyet

josephine has seen many things ranging from serious to just plain absurd. when she was alerted that you had returned with many serious injuries, including the loss of half your arm, she sent messages to get the best possible doctors in all of orlais to help attend to you. the woman was definitely stressed beyond belief. but when she wasn’t trying to get everyone from backing off from you or getting people to look at you, josephine was attending to you herself. you awoke to find her wiping some sweat off your face and when she noticed, she muttered about how great andraste was and embraced you tightly.

cullen rutherford

your knight-commander appeared to take the news very well, much to the disapproval of cassandra. but the moment cullen was alone, in private, he flipped a table, causing everything to crash. all he could feel running throughout his body was regret, guilt, and anger. regret and guilt for not having gone with you. he should’ve. because if he did, maybe you would have came back alright. anger directed towards solas because the apostate had betrayed you, the inquisition. and everything you and him had worked towards was going to crumble. all of his hard work, leliana’s, cassandra’s, josephine’s, it’d all be for naught. cullen ends up spending a lot of time alone while you’re unconscious. he prays to andraste and the maker to distract himself from any wandering thoughts going towards lyrium. certainly the new mabari hound he decided to adopt on a whim helps with distractions at least.

leliana

the woman has seen many things in her lifetime, having experienced the fifth blight itself and been part of that fight against the archdemon. still, things aren’t easy when you come back from the eluvians missing half of your arm. even if it goes against all her duties, leliana stays with you until you wake up to make sure you’re alright. you’re the inquisitor after all and it’s vital that you’re still alive.

solas

he’s the one who took it. you think he cares?

in all seriousness, it gave him no pleasure to remove your arm for the anchor. even if his plan was...well, shoddy we should say, the anchor was going to kill you. he had no choice. carrying your hand and forearm around felt heavy. he could carry it just fine but what made it heavy was the burden that came with his plan to tear down the veil and bring doom upon the world in a desperate attempt to bring it back to what it once was. and also, the burden of having harmed you.

[lieutnt]

do you think if you make lucanis cum enough he loses control and his wings sprout out or

[elfyelation]

I am on my hands and knees begging for headcanons of Dorian and Astarions (male) a/I being utterly shy and nervous around even the idea of sex, like, they stumble off the WORDING like a new baby fawn

dorian

the very moment he found out about your shyness around the subject he came to realise that he loves nothing more than to tease you and watch you squirm

all he has to do is say one dirty thing or even just mention the word 'sex' and you practically recoil, looking away from him as you stumble on your words with your cheeks flushing a deep shade of red

oh how he adores it

innocent kisses are about as much as he can get off you before you’re coming up with some excuse and running away before things can advance further

although it is reassuring to him to know that sex is not the only thing you want from him, as has been with many of his... tumbles in the past

he was sure you did want him though, even if you were too shy to admit it. how could any man resist him, after all?

you just weren’t ready, still far too shy to the thought, and he was okay with that

he would wait for as long as you needed and he’d certainly be there whenever you were ready to go just a little further

it seemed that baby steps were required with you but he could be patient

the teasing would not stop though, it was far too fun for him to forgo it

and when the time finally came when he was able to work you up to it, he adored you all the more for how you twisted and turned underneath him, trying to hide your flushed and embarrassed face under your arm or by pushing it down into your pillow

"i want to see you, amatus," he'd say as he turned your face towards him with a gentle hand, kissing you softly as if to remind you that you were safe with him and that there was nothing to be embarrassed about

astarion

like dorian, astarion would love to tease you

he’d bring something dirty up in almost every conversation with you just to watch you squirm

he had never seen anyone so shy about sex before

he certainly wasn’t and usually he’d have given up and moved on to someone else by now

but he wanted you

“come on baby boy, i know you want to” his voice would be low, sultry and full of desire

more than just teasing, he’d love to describe all the things he wanted to do to you in great detail

the rest of the party had scolded him time and time again after seeing how uncomfortable it made you

still, he wouldn’t stop

not until he had at least had a taste of you

the camp would be celebrating with a party by the time you would finally begin to buckle under his advances

a little too drunk for your own good

he’d sit beside you, handing you another pitcher of wine, your shoulders bumping together

whispers of sinful things would find their way into your ears as he trailed his fingers up and down your arm

if shadowheart hadn’t been watching with a close eye you were almost sure he would have had his way with you right then and there

instead, he settled for watching you fumble more than usual, face burning red at every foul description that fell from his lips until you finally passed out from the exhaustion of it all, head slumping against his shoulder as he smiled almost too fondly and carefully removed the pitcher from your hand before what was left of the wine could spill over you both

he would never give up though and the next morning when you woke up in his bed he was quick to tease and threaten you with how great of a time the two of you had had the night before

you only blushed and pulled the blankets up to hide your face in panic

oh how he loved this game

“don't worry your pretty little head. nothing happened between us last night, as much as i wish it had.”

your first time together would be a long time coming and he would savour every moment of it, drawing it out for hours until you could do nothing but cry out his name

[iliumheightnights]

Alistair: "Ugh! I hate how we have to keep moving because of the darkspawn." M/n, a dalish elf: "I know. It SUCKS having to keep moving because staying in one place too long could mean death." Alistair: "..." M/n:

[kestgrey]

Just officially started on and released new series. Chapter 1 available NOW! It's for the lovers of gay m/m works that blend fantasy!

The "Veil of Carnality" - Kindle link: HERE https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DP3DHQJ5

Synopsis: This series chronicles the adventures of Jex, a soul siphoner serving as the follower to the God of lust and reproduction, Kemu. They reside in the "Veil of Carnality", the realm housing Kemu's village and the essential source of his powers. Nowadays his powers are seemingly beginning to dwindle, so he tasks his loyal follower to bulldoze through 4 other realms, with his main mission to siphon the sexual energy from their leaders. This is so they can propel their own world, bringing Kemu back to full dominance. Jex is prepared to use his sleek skills and natural fervent energy to carry out what he's instructed to. However, it may not be as seamless as he intends.

Snippet below! 👇🏾👇🏾

Kemu possessed molars that were fanglike; they slightly exposed themselves as he licked at his own lips, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle currently being displayed in front of him. His long dark hair draped on his shoulders, perfectly complimenting the deep violet color that stained the entirety of his skin. Only a stable pair of black pants with a silver chain acting as a belt served as his outfit. His exposed upper torso rested against the violet spikes aligning the sides of his throne. Groans emitted from the tall being, his legs created a natural gap between them. His chin gradually tried to touch the air as he found himself becoming aroused, invigorated.

“…Yes” he spoke lowly. Despite a lowered tone, his power extended to his voice, as it was still dark, still commanding no matter the volume.

His eyes trailed each movement at the center of the room, where his gaze had been fixated towards the entire time. The lighting in the room had been intentionally dim, with the only source coming from an open crater in the ceiling. It accurately pointed and shined to the center. It illuminated a bed of dark lilies. Wiring that housed a few red diamond shaped orbs interjected itself in the aesthetic by circling around the bed. A sudden glowing of the red inside of the diamonds signified more movement. Natural rustling sounds that came with moving flowers resonated through the space as Jex, one of the individuals playing in the bed, spread his legs. He was the embodiment of sleek, skillful, and adaptable. Perfect attributes that made him the right-hand follower to Kemu. Special privileges brought about feelings of jealousy from others.

Jex smirked some, biting his bottom lip after creating the separation. He was currently sharing the bed, in full on nakedness with Xander, another follower who had shared duties when it pertained to worshipping Kemu. Xander dangled his tongue from his mouth. He began slithering it from Jex’s ankles, gradually making a path all the way up to his inner thigh. He took in the sweet deep melanin that coated Jex’s physique as he trailed on. Both, at this point, had already been indulging in one another for quite some time, mostly focused on showcasing a pleasurable sight for their master. Jex’s back lowered to the bed as Xander made more headway, now licking on past his navel, coming up to his neck. Jex’s gemstone green eyes glimmered now that Xander’s brown set loomed over his. A slight breath was shared between the two before their lips adjoined, not the first passionate kiss shared between the two. Their eyes were closed, and the kiss remained locked in. Xander slithered up just a bit, now adjusting his swollen dick, sliding it seamlessly into Jex’s hole. It was made easy, due to this being a resurgence back inside of him, as opposed to the initial entrance.

[mlm-writer]

Bleed Clean (Dorian Pavus x M!Reader)

Pairing:  Dorian Pavus x Straight Male Reader (trans-friendly) Rating: Mature Words: 1068 POV: Second Summary: The Big Tober Day 9 - Coming out + bad reaction Note: Please pay attention to the poetry that is the last sentence of this piece. Also being confused about your sexuality is normal and not wrong. Dorian is just very hurt here and haunted by his own demons. Tags: established relationship, coming out, breakup, platonic soulmates, hurt no comfort and reader is new to the dating scene

You have been wrong about many things in your life. There have been many things you had believed to be true, only to find out later they were not. There have been many decisions you made that turned out to be the wrong one. There have been yesses that were nos and rights that were wrongs - such was the way of life. You had learned to take those mistakes into stride. Why dwell on the damage when you could focus on how to fix things? 

It was an admirable mindset. However, it did not help you a bit as you were faced with was quite possibly the biggest mistake of your life. Emotions had never been your forté and then Dorian Pavus appeared in your life, all dashing and demon fighting. You loved his sharp tongue and wit; you loved his sass and his sarcasm. There was nothing to not love as you grew into close friends within a few days. Before you knew it, you spent every possible moment together, reading in the skyhold library, debating any topic that came up or drinking in Skyhold’s tavern with whoever else also happened to be there. It was either those things or fighting side by side against whatever came out of the fade. 

Then he confessed his feelings to you. Had you ever been interested in men? No. Had you ever been with a woman? Also no. ‘Perhaps, this is love,’ you had thought to yourself. “I can no longer imagine living my life without you,” you had told him that day in all truthfulness. It was as good of a confession as anything, but now you wondered if it was love or brotherhood like you had never experienced before. 

Dorian was patient with you, knowing being with a man was new for you. He even offered to shave for your first kiss, but you were pretty sure he was jesting. It had been over a month since that first kiss. It was nothing like you imagined, but you thought you’d get used to kissing a man. You never got used to it. You loved Dorian. You wanted to know him until your last breath. However, you had no desire to kiss him and the looming expectation of eventual sex filled you with dread. 

“You seem troubled,” Dorian observed as you sat across from him in the library. There was a book in your hands, but you had been staring at the same page for several minutes now and there was no hiding the glassy look in your eyes. Dorian took the book from your hands and then took one of your hands in his own. This felt fine, felt right even, but you did not experience butterflies in your stomach or a fluttering heart. 

Dorian took you out to one of the walls surrounding Skyhold. The wind was cold, but the air was warm. “I cannot help but feel I have done something to upset you,” Dorian spoke as he leaned against the wall. Behind him you saw the courtyard, many people walking around like ants. 

“You have not! It is… me, who made a grave mistake.” You could not look at him. You have been putting off this very conversation and Dorian had sensed something was wrong. How could he not? You often felt like you two shared a soul. You could not look at your partner, eyes glued on the mouldy stone under your feet. You did not see Dorian’s eyebrow cock up. 

“Amatus… What did you do?” Dorian made it sound like you cheated on him. As much as you had no romantic feelings for him, your undying loyalty would not have allowed you to even so much as look at anyone else, while your… arrangement of sorts was still in place. 

You took a deep breath and looked up. Dorian’s eyes were crushing your heart, but you felt it was unfair to even think that while you were about to stomp on his. “I…” You played this scene a thousand times over in your head, but now that you were here, you found yourself unable to remember any of the words you prepared. You took another deep breath. When beautifully crafted words were unavailable, there was always the good old ripping the bandage off. “I’m not in love with you. I don’t think I ever was.” You saw Dorian getting ready to say something, but you stopped him with a hand you almost shoved into his face. “Wait, let me finish! I don’t think I will ever be able to be in love with a man, but I do love you. I love you dearly, just not romantically. I still want to be with you until my last moments, just… as friends.” 

Dorian scoffed, throwing his hands up and turning around to look over the courtyard. “Oh please, spare me the salving words. You’re just like those before you. You hear of a man interested in other men and immediately think ‘oh I should try that’!” Dorian pushed himself off the wall and turned around to face you. You felt small under his venomous gaze. “I’m just a pretty test subject. What I feel doesn’t matter, does it? As long as that little itch of curiosity gets scratched. I really thought you were a better man, Ama…” He corrected himself, your name never spoken before with such contempt. “People like you disgust me.” 

You wanted to explain yourself, scream that is was nothing like that, but you couldn’t say a thing; words clogged up your throat. Dorian drew his own conclusions from your silence and turned away, walking back to the library with his head held high. You watched his back. Each step he took separated you further from the piece of your soul he still carried with him. You could not see the thick tears that stained the necromancer’s cheeks. You could not feel how his heart ached, how old wounds started bleeding once more. All you could perceive was the way your chest felt hollow where Dorian was supposed to be your brother in arms until your last breath. You didn’t know how long you stood there, but you decided against going through the library and left the wall via another route. Perhaps one day, you could mend things, but sometimes wounds needed to bleed clean, before one could bandage them up. 

—————

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR FANFIC WRITERS

Likes do not help exposure!A comment in tags or replies can sustain a writer for months!

[bigfan-fanfic]

I'll Show You the Ropes (Male!Reader x Iron Bull)

@jayfeather965 Could you please write a story on a session where Iron Bull helps his boyfriend the inquisitor relax after a particularly hard day. First sexually but then Bull and bf have genuinely sweet pillow talk. (I would imagine that maybe it’s after the winter palace and the duchess’s death. )

"It's hard, isn't it?" Bull sighs, rubbing your shoulders. "I'm sorry you've had a tough time."

"I... I just feel like it's hard for me to do anything, really. Everything is just-"

Bull pulls you against him into a tight hug.

"I get it, Kadan. You feel powerless. That everything's been out of your control. That nothing feels easy."

He gently caresses the back of your head, and you melt against him.

"So what's your remedy? Tie me up again?" You chuckle.

"Sort of. But not exactly."

You lean back as the Iron Bull stands and retrieves his ropes. "I want you to feel in control. I want you to feel powerful."

You tilt your head at him. "I don't need you to be weak to feel strong."

He chuckles. "It's not like that. I won't be weak. I want to make you feel strong by giving you my power."

"I don't know how to do what you do."

"Don't worry. I'll teach you, Kadan."

You have no desire to sleep, so the Iron Bull spends the night teaching you how to bind him, to render him helpless.

He finds it tough, at first - harder than he expected. It's one thing to want to give in and help, and quite another to actually give up control.

But he teaches you the simplest of the Ben-Hassrath's ties. It keeps the captive's arms in place or threatens them with the possibility of choking themselves.

You secure his wrists behind him in bright red rope, running parallel to each other.

You tug the cord up and taut before wrapping it around one of his huge biceps, making a secure loop there before going over the opposite shoulder, and loosely around the neck, over that shoulder.

Back to the other bicep, around and around, and back down to the wrists, forming a simple but beautiful diamond.

Had you the inclination and the extra rope, you could see the possibility of tying rope in such a way that you could weave the Qunari symbol into that diamond.

It's such a simple tie, but truly effective. You watch him roll his massive shoulders, his back stretching and rippling, and the rope subtly tightens until his hands return to their original position.

It's uncompromising. He is truly under control.

"I have to admit, Kadan..." Bull says, a little breathless from the intensity of the feelings coursing through him. "This is very hot."

You kiss him, his body flexing under your hands, and you take charge, able to do whatever you wish to him - to taste and touch and caress and pinch and tickle and kiss and-

He asks you to leave his wrists tied after you undo the harness. and he sleeps on his stomach, you curled next to him.

"You're my Kadan, you know? Part of how we see the Qun is taking care of others. Because we're all part of each other. But... if I'm being honest... I really do feel like you're a part of me.

"So that's why... why I want to give up control to you sometimes. Because I trust you. Because I want you to feel powerful and strong. I want you to know that I can give that to you. That I'm not just taking advantage of you."

"Awwww, Bull, I knew that already. I... I really like being with you. I really care about you too."

You kiss him, and watch his eye flutter closed.

"Now why don't you let me out and I can really show you my appreciation?" He chuckles, only to grin behind your hand when you cover his mouth.

"I think I have some more interesting ideas in mind, Kadan..."

[freestyle-crocodile-trashpile]

Single Dad

Summary:Your a single dad, while also inquistor

Type:Hcs: Cassandra X M!Reader: Varric X M!Reader: Dorian X M!Reader: Cullen X M!Reader

Version:Inquisition

Cullen

He was definitely surprised, but helped in any way he could

Surprisingly, he is quite good with children

Yet he has none himself

He began to love your child like his own, it honestly didn't take long

And your kid began to see him like another father

Dorian

Dorian isn't that fond of children

But he'll tolerate your kid, for you of course

The more he spends time with your kid, the more he enjoys children

Mainly because your kid is starting to see him as a second father, and it's wholesome

He, of course, will never admit it, but he really does enjoy spending time with your kid

Cassandra

She isn't the best with kids, being a warrior and all

Especially when they cry

But she'll do her best, but she is a good cook, so your kid gets alot of good food

She likes to spoil kids

Being around your kid has brought some comfort to her

Varric

He's great with kids

He'll read them story's, come up with the perfect fantasys for your kid

He's perfect at it and perks for him already being a sorta father figure

It's almost like he was a dad, or is one

Maybe to Cole

[A/n:After reading a single dad story of the inquistor, I had to write this, I love the idea 💡. I hope you enjoyed]

[malemacrofics]

The Tiny Protector

Summary: While on a mission in the Hinterlands, Cullen comes across a small curiosity. A man victim from a spell by a darkspawn Emissary that’s left him reduced in height. Luckily, a small size doesn’t mean the tiny guy can’t still help protect his new protector.

Content: Accidental Shrinking, Caring Giant, Fluff

A/N: Hopefully this is the first of many new fanfics! Also, special thanks to @iliumheightnights for letting me use his OC, Finnick!

Cullen doesn’t normally go on missions for the inquisition. In fact, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t detest the idea of leaving Skyhold normally. Sure, its stone brick walls and floor offer little in way of comfort, but between his bedroom and the courtyard of the keep, it truly does feel like home. However, when Leliana’s scouts reported darkspawn activity in the Hinterlands, the Inquisitor specifically asked Cullen to go with his soldiers. In hindsight, it seemed like an odd request, but Cullen wasn’t one to question his superior. At Least not with Josephine and Leliana standing right next to him.

Regardless of what happened back in Skyhold, now Cullen was here in the Hinterlands. And so far, Lelianna’s spies seemed to be wrong. They’ve visited numerous small settlements and none have reported any darkspawn activity. In fact, the soldiers were at the last settlement they had to search through. There wasn’t much special about it so far. There was a lack of people in the settlement when the soldiers arrived, but the lack of any destruction or personal effects in any buildings just caused Cullen to assume people had gradually left. He doubts many cartographers were making it out here to update their maps after the rift opened.

As Cullen approached the town hall, however, he could hear faint sounds of combat. He called over some soldiers before opening the twin doors. Before them was a mage engaged in a fierce magical duel against a Darkspawn Emissary. Each spell cast was immediately dispelled by the opposing party. That was, until the mage’s focus was drawn towards Cullen and the rest of the templars. In the briefest of moments, panic began to set into the Mage’s eyes, just enough time for one of the emissary’s spells to connect to the mage it was dueling.

As a sickeningly green bolt of energy connected with the mage’s robes, it began to wash over the cloth like ocean waves crashing over sand. Immediately, the mage began to fall over, almost as though paralyzed. Once he hit the ground, all that remained was the cloth of the robes.

Maker’s breath… Cullen thought, If only we were able to get here sooner.

As Cullen thought, the emissary began to cast another spell, the same sickly green energy coalescing in its hands. However, after the bolt had been cast, but before it could hit Cullen square in the chest, it was met by a different ball of energy. This one cast from the robes laying on the ground. And in the moments between the emissary’s bolt being dispelled, and it beginning to cast another, an arrow from one of Cullen’s archers found itself lodged in the emissary’s chest. And as it looked down at the wound it now had, it began to dissolve, pieces of its own mass separating and falling to the ground. All that remained of the darkspawn was a small pile of dust and the arrow that had been shot into it.

Returning to reality, Cullen quickly rushed over to the heap of cloth on the floor. He began to search through it, hoping to find some personal effect that they could send home to the man’s family. However, in place of a locket or journal, was something Cullen wasn’t expecting at all. Laying in the cloth, almost in a daze, was the mage. He was still clothed, his undershirt and pants seemed to change with him, but instead of his normal height, he was reduced to mere inches tall. The man looked up at Cullen as a slight smile covered his face before he collapsed. All he remembered before everything went dark was the far off sound of a man ordering soldiers, and the feeling of leather against his skin.

—

Finnick woke up with a start. His head was pounding and he felt drained. Not only physically, but magically. He closed his eyes trying to remember what had happened. He recalled fighting a darkspawn in a wooden building, a strange man appeared, and the last thing he had done was cast a dispel. He looked around his surroundings and it appeared like a tent. Small candles dotted the area, providing scant light into the night. However, this tent was more akin to a fortress or castle. The ceiling above Finnick seemed to be nearly 100 feet above him. And the floor he was resting on seemed to be made of oak, with massive papers stretching it’s surface. Finnick attempted to run to the edge of the surface he was on, and after gazing over the edge realized two important things. One was the fact that he seemed to be at least 50 feet from the ground, and that whatever surface he was on was more akin to a table than any floor. And with those realizations, that’s when it clicked for Finnick.

He is on a table. And the ground wasn’t 50 feet below him, but probably only 3. Just as the fear begins to seat itself in the base of his stomach, Finnick watches as the strange man from the town hall enters the tent. His blonde hair and stubble framed his face quite handsomely, with a faint scar visible across the man’s upper lip. And his polished armor glinted in the candlelight, only hidden behind the large feathered collar. The man looked in surprise at seeing Finnick up and moving. He made his way to the table and sat in the chair that was pulled up. He began to introduce himself.

“Greetings, ser mage. My name is Cullen Rutherford. I’m here on behalf of the Herald of Andraste.” He said with a smile, “We heard rumors of darkspawn operating in this part of the Hinterlands, and upon investigation, we encountered you. May I ask your name?”

“Finnick. Just… Finnick for now. Where am I, and why are you so large?” Finnick asked nervously.

As soon as Finnick had asked that question, Cullen’s smile faded. “Right, your size. When we approached your battle with that darkspawn, it appears he had cast a spell of some kind on you. We don’t have the magical knowledge here at our base camp to have any hope of reverse it. However, with your permission, I’d like to take you to Skyhold. Perhaps the herald or our mages could reverse it.”

“It’s not like I have much of a choice, do I? I either go with you, or have to fend for myself at this size.”

“Unless you have another idea, it appears that way, Finnick. My apologies.”

Finnick thought for a moment, hoping there was some alternative he could think of. However, each time his mind drew a blank. “And I can trust you?” He asked.

“Of course. I wouldn’t wish you any harm. You have my word.”

“Alright then, Cullen. How soon do you plan on heading back?”

“We’ll stay stationed here for the night, and leave first thing in the morning. If you’d like, to can even sleep in this tent with me.”

“That sounds nice. Although, I don’t suppose you have anything extra to cover up with? At this size,  the gentle coolness of the Hinterlands feels more akin to a midwinter night.”

“I’m afraid not, Finnick. I understand it would be unconventional, but if you wish you could rest on my body as I sleep. I don’t move much and hopefully my body warmth would stave off the cold for you.”

Finnick immediately felt himself blush. He turned his face away from Cullen. Did he honestly just offer for me to sleep with him? Finnick asked himself. I suppose he’s right though. It seems like the best option at the moment.

“And you wouldn’t find that too awkward, Sir Cullen?” Finnick asked, his face still flushed.

Cullen notices the slight blush, even in spite of the size difference between the two. He cracks a small smile at the miniscule mage, “Of course not. Would you?”

“N-no, not at all.” Finnick sputters.

“Then it’s settled. Just give me a moment to take off my armor, and you shall accompany me to bed.”

With his sentence finished, Cullen walked behind a folding screen. However, given the height of the templar, his shoulders and up were still more than visible. And Finnick could swear Cullen looked over his shoulder to check if the tiny mage was still watching. Once Cullen was done, he walked from behind the folding screen. His muscular chest bare as he stood there simply wearing a thin pair of linen pants. A small dusting of hair visible across the templar’s broad chest. Cullen approached the table and placed his hand on its surface, palm up.

“Climb aboard.”

Finnick stepped on the palm, grabbing Cullen’s thumb for support. Cullen made his way towards his cot and laid on it’s surface. He laid Finnick on one of his pecs before covering his legs and stomach with a thin blanket. He laid his hand over Finnick, almost like his own tent, before asking the mage “Comfortable enough for you?”

“Yes, thank you.” He quickly responded.

And as the two fell asleep, Finnick began to wonder how much he really wanted to return to his normal size. Life alone in the Hinterlands was hardly the easiest thing to have to do. Being under the care of a gentle man like Cullen seemed like a very worthwhile trade. Even if he had to be stuck at the height of one of Cullen’s fingers. Regardless, that’s an issue for another day, for tonight the moon is rising, a soft breeze blows over the hills and mountains, and the two men have a wonderful night’s sleep together in a tent. Wondering what’s going to happen next.

[ratofthemedievalsewers]

My Heart Bleeds Whenever I Look Upon You, But I Can Not Bring Myself to Turn Away - Part I

Solas x Dalish, Inquisitor, Male Reader

Word Count: 2.8k+

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, canon typical violence

Part I: Even in darkness Vhenan, I shall guide you home.

"Ir abelas, Mythal save us!"

Y/N woke with his heart clawing to escape from his own chest, bed sheets soaked with sweat that had seeped through the simple, white cotton nightwear shirt. He felt it stick to his skin, clinging desperately to the curves and forms of his body. His breathing was ragged and untamed, causing his brain to fog and his head to feel weightless as if it could just simply roll off of his shoulders.

Slow, deep breaths.

In... Hold... Out... Repeat.

So many nights practising the same routine.

Y/N turned to the beds that lay a few steps beside his own, thankfully his nightmare had not woken those who he shared a bed chamber with. He knew some nights simple dreams would turn into him screaming, pulling him from those same dreams with a burning throat and aching lungs. Thankfully he hadn't had one that bad while in Haven.

It surprised him nonetheless, that his friends who slept with knives beneath their pillows and swords by their fingertips had never heard him. Not when he woke as if he had been drowning, or when he slipped from the tacky covers to feel his bare feet on the cold, stone floor or when he slipped through the door of their shared room out into the hallway.

Another routine; slithering through the halls of the Chantry building, avoiding the night shift guards that forced their tired eyes open, pushing against the sleep that threatened to claim them where they stood. Y/N would move through the shadows gifted by low burning torch light, finally letting out a breath when his back pressed against a heavy wooden door and all that stood in front of him was a ladder leading to the roof.

Even during the warmer months, Haven was frost ridden. Nestled snugly between the mountains it never received the warm winds from the north, instead, the snowy ranges kept a blanket of cold stillness across Haven. With Y/N used to the milder, damper-heavy forests the frigid air made his muscles ache and his bones creek at any movement. Even standing still for too long made his limbs go numb.

Sitting on the rooftop of the old Chantry building did nothing to help the creeping feeling of slowly being paralysed by frost. The tiles beneath him were like fresh ice, jagged and unwelcoming, making even his skin feel raw beneath his heavy sleeping trousers. The light wind that had found its way through the hills was bitter and cruel as it caressed the thin layer of his nightshirt and bare face.

The scar within the heavens shone brighter than the stars, its crackling, green lighting harsher in the dark, the Lichtenberg figures the static created twisting and gripping onto the sky with too many fingers to count. Within the eye of the storm there was a window to an unknown world Y/N wished he would never have to return to; its towering, gravity-defying pillars of jagged rock, dense, choking fog, and the creatures that scuttle and crawl within it.

He shivered and pulled his arms tighter around himself, ignoring the protests coming from his aching back.

"It'll be hard to save the world if its mighty hero catches a cold." Y/N violently turned at the voice, almost slipping on the tiles in the process. Solas stood there with a gentle smile gracing his lips, eyebrows slightly raised in an almost concerned way. He took a moment before approaching, an ugly-coloured blanket draped over his forearms.

Solas was careful as he sat beside Y/N on the awkwardly sloped tiles; not too close, but close enough that he could drape the scraggily blanket over the other man's shoulders. It did not keep in any warmth as there was so little in the first place, but it acted as a stronger barrier against the wind, which seemed to whine at the loss of someone to torment.

"Thank you, Solas," Y/N's throat still felt raw from trying to keep his sobbing quiet, the remnants of dried tears still clinging to his blushing cheeks. He held onto the blanket in a vice grip, pulling it tighter around him, bunching up his shoulders in a practised defence, "I'm sorry if I woke you."

"No bother, I was not sleeping," Solas' voice was like mulberry silk, soft and delicate, yet his voice would cut through the thick fog like a freshly sharpened blade. "I could hear your dreams in the Fade."

Y/N stilled, his knuckles growing white as his grip became like iron on the fabric. "What did you hear?"

Solas pondered for a minute, head tilting to one side. "Hear is the wrong word perhaps, but to say I sensed it is not correct either. I did not hear what was said nor what occurred. Instead, I felt its symphonies... its purest emotions. Maybe if I pried I could get a clearer picture, but something as private as a dream should not be invaded."

Some of the tension that clung to Y/N dissipated, a sigh escaping his lips. "It'll be hard to save the world if I'm too busy running from my nightmares."

Something that could be read as concern finds its way into Solas' features as he turns more of his body to face Y/N, shifting his balance so he does not fall from the tiles. "What are your nightmares?"

A dry chuckle leaves Y/N as he watches the forest sway. From so high the trees are so small, so fragile, it is hard to imagine that stood at their base the branches and leaves would tower high above his head.

"Part of me wants to be able to say the big hole in the sky, or maybe the ugly as fuck demons falling out of it. I would prefer it if I was fighting them, it's easier to fight what you know is real."

There is a ram that drinks from the flowing parts of the river, the water not yet consumed by ice. Its ears are twitching as it listens, legs braced in case it needs to dart back into the protective arms of long grasses and thick tree trunks. But nothing has come for it yet, it is allowed a moment to rest.

"Do you miss the forests?" Solas had followed Y/N's gaze to the ram, now watching it too.

"Yes... Gods yes," A smile tugged at the corners of Y/N's lips.

"What is it that you miss most?"

They sat in silence as he thought for a moment, "The privacy for one. Some days I feel as if I can't piss without someone's watching eyes, waiting for me to turn into a monster or reveal my villainous plan." Y/N carefully adjusted his seating as the base of his back began to sting at the numbness. "I think... I think I also miss the freedom. Even when Cassandra removed the bonds from my wrists I still felt the ghost of them... and sometimes the cord tightens and I can feel the circulation being cut off from my wrists to my hands."

Y/N took a breath, lip quivering as he held onto the last few strands of willpower he had spent so long weaving.

"I want to run Solas... even now when the world gives me a chance to breathe, I want to run back to forests and just sit under its canopies. To listen to a songbird's melody, to smell fresh dew atop soil... anything that isn't..." he flails his hand in the air, "...this."

"Yet you stay... and that is braver than almost anyone here." Solas moved closer, just by an inch. "Many forget that you are not a divine being sent by the heavens, you are just a man and that is all that should ever be asked of you. You have not trained your whole life with a sword, you have not commanded armies, and you do not get to hide in the shadows and listen to a person's deepest secret or topple someone with a few intricately laced-together words. Yet you stand tall with what you do have and you build up from nothing but rubble and ash."

Y/N's eyebrows knitted together as he let Solas's words sink in. "Thank you... I think..." Y/N turned to better face Solas as well, his knee bumping against the others at the difficult angle. "I do believe a lot of that was insults though before you got to the compliment."

"You will have to grow used to it if you wish to gain the allyship of those with their noses pointed to the sky... they may even forget the compliment at the end."

"I didn't realise you were capable of telling jokes, Solas."

The elven mage lets out a soft laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling at the smile it forced on him. "Incredible, a compliment and an insult in one, you'll be strutting your way through the courts in no time."

"Dirthara-Ma." The lashes came fast and heavy, settling into a confident rhythm. With the pattern, he was able to relax his muscles once more to make the next hit more tolerable. He just needed to hold on a little longer, for if he let himself fall it would only start over when he woke.

Y/N woke once again to sweat-soaked sheets. His head was calmer this night though, something soft stroking against his mind in an effort to soothe him. It was gentle, not attempting to make its presence known or to try to hide it either; just the tips of fingers gracing against hair around the crown of his head.

The first sunlight peeked through the stained glass windows, decorating the floor with colourful, abstract, illustrations. Y/N just lay there, allowing himself the indulgence in the comforting sensation. He took a single, deep breath that expanded his lungs to their limit and let it flow out of him once more as his feet touched the cool stone. As he did so, the presence went, but it left behind the mental peace it gave him when he woke.

The day was almost at its end once more, it was a blessing that he finally found the time to search for the man he sought. Tucked away beneath the old Chantry building, sat in its little dungeon library, Solas let his fingers skim over the books, taking in their dust-ridden titles and worn-down spines. He looked half interested, but there was little to do in Haven for most apart from complain about the cold.

The Room was only illuminated by a single brazier and a few scattered candles, leaving creeping shadows to settle comfortably in the little nooks and crannies the litter dotted about the room caused. Crumpled papers most likely old, incorrect notes, tossed books and writing equipment. Perhaps a scholar's or researcher's old room, but why would it be down here?

"Was it you?" Y/N cringed at how loud his voice had sounded, echoing throughout the empty halls - he did not mean it as an accusation, but the walls of the Chantry made it so. Yet Solas did not tense, he did not even turn at the sudden displacement of noise behind him.

"Yes, it was," His hand slid from its hovering position at the bookshelf and fell to his side as he finally turned towards Y/N, "I apologise if I overstepped my bonds."

Y/N thought for a moment, cracking every joint in his hand - a nervous tic he still had yet to grow out of. "No... No, I-" He stopped himself and collected his thoughts once more. "It helped... the nightmares, I still feel them, experienced them... but not alone... Thank you."

A soft, yet hesitant smile tugged at Solas' lips. "I'm glad." He took Y/N's hand from its place at his side in his own, his other hand coming to rest on top, fully encompassing it. "You needn't fight alone, we... I am your ally. I am here to help you win any battle."

"This is not a battle I think I... we can win, even with your aid," Y/N found his gaze lingering on their intertwined hands, allowing himself to give in and feel the warmth that seem to radiate from Solas' palms.

"Have faith."

A beat passed between them... then a second.

Then Solas pulled his hands away, a look on his face that was unreadable, but not wholly negative. The sudden cold of the cellar hit Y/N's bare hand which had been marked by the anchor and he shivered.

"Find anything good to read down here?" A casual conversation, yet the question felt awkward upon Y/N's tongue. He found himself scanning the few titles that had been discarded and left upon the cobweb, dust-ridden desk.

"Nothing so far. There are some of Varric's pieces here."

"I think I shall pass, thank you," A book of tales and fables written in a variation of the elven language caught Y/N's eye and he gently blew on the cover, attempting to clear the detritus that riddled the front. He was gentle turning the pages, so afraid to tear the delicate paper.

"Not a fan of romance?" Solas turned just briefly before returning to the wall of books, a genial smile once more gracing his lips.

"I'm not a fan of the romance Varric rights, too much swooning for my taste," Y/N closed the book, his fingers resting on the cover for a moment before he left it to its resting place. He did not have the luxury to spend time reading fantasies. "Don't tell Varric I said that or I think I might end up with a crossbow bolt buried in my skull."

The other man laughed, muted in its hesitance, but genuine. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me, Falon."

Solas stood in front of Y/N now, less than an arm's reach between them. The air seemed to still in its own anticipation, almost seeming to watch with gated breath. A moment passes once more and something careful passed through Solas' eyes, a single thought that he seems to immediately blink away, breaking his study of Y/N's features.

"Take it," He pushed the book that Y/N had been ogling on the table into his stomach, not forcefully but with a commanding push, "Read before you sleep, it will help you rest." Then in a breath, he was gone.

*****

The stench of blood hit him first like a slap across the face, a spark of panic shot through his body and it awoke him to the scene that surrounded him. The smoke was next, coupled with the roaring flames that burned hot as they brushed against Y/N's skin, stripping away the small hairs.

The fire engulfed the wooden hulls of the aravels, reaching into the gaps it had paved away with its sharp claws and tearing them apart until they were unrecognisable. The crates and chests that sat idly by them suffered the same fate, the flames blanketing them in twisting red and orange heat.

A shrill, piercing scream hit Y/N's ear but he could not find a person to connect the voice to through the burning aravels. The smoke settled like a heavy fog obscuring his vision and the light from the fire blinded him. Y/N lifted his hands to his eyes in an attempt to shield them as he stood, feeling the creaks within the joints of his protesting, aching knees.

The first step was agony, almost sending him toppling back down into the dirt - the second step was not much easier.

The third sent him falling back to his knees, the pain shooting through him like a thousand small knives, reaching up through his thighs to his hips. He let his arms fall back to his side as he wept, unclear if the tears came from the smoke filling his eyes or the pain he felt racking his entire being.

"Ir abelas," Y/N felt the words leave his lips before he could stop them. "IR ABELAS." The tears flowed freely now, cutting through the filth that coated his cheeks, leaving pathways atop his skin.

It took a moment to notice the sitting wolf through blurred vision.

It was towering, twice the size of that found within these forests he'd spent his life travelling through. Its fur was not dissimilar to that of charcoal but held a shine compared to that of obsidian. The snout was long and pointed, the same as its ears, the shape of them narrower than to be expected. Its eyes were a dim red, but as Y/N stared into their hollow colour he swore he felt it staring back.

The tears stopped flowing and his heartbeat quietened in his chest, even as the flames danced and the cries sounded around them.

He was calm.

"Ir abelas" - I am sorry.

"Dirthara-Ma" - May you learn.

"Falon" - Friend

[callahanisms]

knight in shining armor

pairing: cullen rutherford x gender neutral! reader

premise: a royal au, featuring cullen as a member of your royal guard.

♡ cullen rutherford, your knight in shining armor since you were young. a righteous boy who grew up into a righteous man, protecting you from dangers beyond the walls of your castle and imperial spies.

♡ cullen rutherford, who was brash and outspoken, who would talk back to his superiors for interacting with royalty when he himself was nothing more than a peasant.

♡ cullen rutherford, a boy punished for rumors untrue.

♡ cullen rutherford, who became a knight and popular amongst your kingdom subjects.

♡ cullen rutherford, who became a hero in the war against an imposing empire that threatened to swallow your country whole. you were a hero strategist and he the heroic knight-commander.

♡ cullen rutherford, who gained a promotion from your father. “any position.” he said. it almost seemed too good to be true.

♡ cullen rutherford, who asked to be part of the royal guard. “nothing would bring me more honor than to protect you and your family, your greatness.”

♡ cullen rutherford, who also got a mabari with his promotion. he was more than ecstatic considering that he’s wanted once since he was a kid.

♡ cullen rutherford, who learns it was you who got him the mabari hound he’s wanted. your act of generosity would not go unnoticed.

♡ cullen rutherford, who participated in many tourneys representing himself. his experience gave him the upperhand against the nobles who had never even stepped foot on a battlefield.

♡ cullen rutherford, who asks for your favor. you smile cheekily and toss him the wreath of flowers. “may the maker smile upon you today.” he notices the wreath has daisies woven within it.

♡ cullen rutherford, who is assigned by your father to watch over you personally especially during the treaty signings. maker forbid something happened to you, the heir to the kingdom.

♡ cullen rutherford, who finds his love for you deepening, a love that has been building since he was a child and saw you all those years ago. he can’t help the smile that continues to form on his face. leliana and josephine are always pointing out his lovesick grin when you’re around.

♡ cullen rutherford, who continues to polish his chess skills. it drives you a little stir crazy that he has only beaten you. 10 to 0 is the current score. you’re determined to win at least one game.

♡ cullen rutherford, who finds you reading up on chess strategies and asking other people that have played him for advice on how to win. it amuses him and he decides to leave you alone.

♡ cullen rutherford, a man who feels pride when you finally beat him. you outmaneuvered him in almost every way. it was a little scary actually how you beat him.

♡ cullen rutherford, who meets you in the gardens at night. it’s just the two of you. alone. no one around. he could hear nothing but your breathing and his own and the gentle hum of insects.

♡ cullen rutherford, a boy who grew into a handsome man. the scar adorning his face added a charm to him. and his eyes were warm, gentle, inviting.

♡ cullen rutherford, whose touch put you at ease and made your skin flush. your heart would pound against your rib cage and it threatened to burst from your chest.

♡ cullen rutherford, who felt like forbidden fruit. you should be dallying someone of your status, someone born into nobility and with titles and lands. he was a man with neither (outside of his current titles, of course).

♡ cullen rutherford, who cupped your face gently. the two of you were so close. so very close. if you moved further just a little...

♡ cullen rutherford, a man surprised when he felt your lips against his. he suddenly couldn’t move, body frozen. he had become putty in your hands, maleable by your will.

♡ cullen rutherford, who kissed you back with such fervor that it felt like you were about to explode. with happiness of course.

♡ cullen rutherford, your lover. a secret affair you had to have. and sure, were you breaking your promise to your father to marry someone adequate? yes. but you knew what you felt and it would never be with any of the nobles that send proposals every day.

♡ cullen rutherford, who is content to be your lover in the shadows of the night. you were his liege. he wanted nothing to happen to you. he understood the responsibility on your shoulder.

♡ cullen rutherford, who always deflects from the rumors and questions surrounding him and his liege. people are talking. it wouldn’t be long before such whispers reached the greater nobility.

♡ cullen rutherford, who is surprised at your forwardness and openness during your name day ball. you ask him for a dance. openly. in front of all the suitors that had lined themselves up for you.

♡ cullen rutherford, who takes your hand and ignores the looks being sent his way, ignores the hushed whispers behind elegant masks and large hand fans.

♡ cullen rutherford, who utterly melts when you whisper to him, “i love you.”

♡ cullen rutherford, a man interrogated by your father because of the rumors of his liaison you. he gives vague answers that only further frustrate your father.

♡ cullen rutherford, a man saved when you enter the room and give your father clear answers. you are firm on your stance and on your love for cullen. he feels flutters in his heart watching you argue with your father. it appears you had become his knight in shining armor.

♡ cullen rutherford, a heroic knight-commander promoted to a member of the royal guard and now, your husband. he says his vows with enthusiasm and love. his whole body shakes with enthusiasm as he says, “i do.”