#solas fluff friday

[pinacoladamatata]

The Dread Wolf's Heart...

"Where I am going is terrible"

"It won't be terrible if you're with me"

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

20 Questions for (Fanfiction) Writers

Tagged by @serbarris thank you!! :)

How many works do you have on ao3? 20 published! don't... just don't ask how many are on my computer hard drive.

What’s your total ao3 word count? 187,071. I'm going to be honest guys I did this with a calculator from my 'Works' page and only after the next question did i remember the 'Statistics' page exists and i did not have to do all that.

What are your top five fics by kudos?

Fallout from the Fade | DAI | 780 kudos F!Hawke x Fenris; 90k; In progress/hiatus: what if Hawke manages to survive being left in the Fade, but then has to deal with the aftermath? -- My angsty longfic darling, my outlet for cliffhangers and torment. This fic is on "hiatus" in that I have decided to stop posting chapters until I finish writing it to the ending. But it's not abandoned, just secret progress only due to the Agonies and Horrors and all that (grad school).

Provided it tied you down first | DAI | 527 kudos F!Trevelyan x Solas; 17k; Complete: Solas & Trevelyan have to go undercover in a Tevinter sex dungeon, and Trevelyan can no longer hide her secret desire for Solas -- what? yeah. i wanted to try writing porn for the second time and just looked through the kink!meme prompt list until i found a funny but challenging one. sometimes the fun of writing is taking something unbelievable and working backwards like, ok so what WOULD it take to actually lead to this otherwise out of character situation? also i ran out of birth control and became Compelled to write something horny. to everyone who asks for a sequel i'm sorry i went back on the meds too fast.

Lost to Night | DAI | 227 kudos Solavellan; 11k; Complete: Solas and Lavellan slip away for some alone time after the events at the Winter Palace, but before the party really ends. -- Obligatory Halamshiral hookup fic. This was my first attempt at writing smut, i would do things somewhat different now but I like the fic. The most important thing of course is the Angst is still in there.

Less a man than a wild cat | DA2 | 263 kudos F!Hawke x Fenris; 15k; Complete: Hawke & Co are out drinking while Fenris is away on business, but then a grey cat with white markings that look extremely familiar turns up hissing at Anders and demanding attention from Hawke. -- this is the closest thing to fluff I'lll ever write, probably. just some silly fairytale style fun.

Letters to Fenris | DAI | 200 kudos F!Hawke x Fenris; 1.6k; Complete: a selection of letters that can be found in Fenris' room, after Hawke leaves to help the Inquisition. -- Short & sweet, my favorite hobby is making readers smile and then punching them directly in the gut. Yay!

What fandoms do you write for? Dragon Age and Mass Effect (look... i know I only have one ME fic posted, but I did write a lot more than that. just never shared it). For me personally... fanfic is most interesting when it's for exploring customizable characters & their relationship to the world of the setting. Or the NPC characters in a world that's shaped by the choices of the player. I've never really gotten into fanfic for things like books/movies/tv for this reason, just rpg's.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Hoooooo so like... i do wish i was the kind of author who thanks everyone who leaves a comment and replies thoughtfully within a reasonable timeframe. I wish it!!!!! however the 6-12 months after I started writing fanfic, pretty much every weekend for me looked like this:

stay up all night Sunday writing a chapter

Once finished writing, reward myself with respond to comments on the previous chapter

post the new chapter at 4am with minimal edits if any

sleep for 2 hours then drive to the USGS office, get in the fieldwork SUV, and take a Car Nap on the 6 hour drive to Death Valley or wherever

spend 5 days wandering the desert measuring plants with NO cell service or internet

return to Civilization covered in sand and sweat on Friday, terrorize the locals of Vegas/Moab at the grocery store, and spend 1 day recovering and checking the internet/reading all the comments left over the last week/getting filled in by friends on whatever internet memes i missed while away

now it's Sunday again and repeat this entire process

Anyway this got me in the habit of like... commenting was something i did only after i finished the next update, rather than as people leave them (since I only read them in bulk when I got home). like as a reward to keep me motivated to finish the next chapter so i can talk to people back!! and it's been 3 jobs and 10 years(🙃) since then but the habit persists. but then if it's been more than a month the last update it feels like i'm Too Late to reply anyway so i often don't. idk! maybe part of it's also that i take a LONG time between chapters nowadays bc of Life, so, i am also hiding from the fact that i'm not ready to post the next bit yet. like if i don't reply maybe you can't see me spending 7 hours per day on tumblr wasting time, and be mad that i'm not writing. i know i'm the weird outlier about a lot of fanfic things and processes haha. i do love getting and reading people's comments, sorry i'm so shit at addressing them!

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Probably Reunion, my pre-DATV release (so no spoilers) Solavellan one-shot where I wanted to make myself as sad as possible imagining a potential outcome for them. What's worse than one half of your ship dying? Maybe both of their psyches getting locked together and one subsuming the other, so what remains is neither fully the individuals or someone new, just a shattered amalgamation left to cope with all that.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Staring at this like. do i ever write happy endings?? probably the Fenris-is-a-cat fic, but even that i left kind of open. i think my Hawke-deals-with-Leandra's-death fic has a pretty hopeful ending, but the fic itself is a grief exploration, so...

Do you get hate on fics? Every now and then someone leaves a comment like "I'm so sad this fic was abandoned" which, is not really a very motivating way to phrase that. and i've only really abandoned like 1 fic, i consider the others just "perpetually on the back burner", but once you get past a year with no updates I don't blame people for the assumption. my writing and hobbies are on a geologic scale rather than the fast-past biologic scale of the rest of fandom. sorry to make this about geology again.

Do you write smut? Yes... though I've only published 2 pieces and have a 3rd currently being posted. A dozen or so more exist but don't yet have fully fleshed out stories to put them inside lol (sorry Rookanis...). whoops!

Do you write crossovers? I have not. Actually wait, one time I wrote like 2000 words of Mass Effect x Animorphs in a tumblr reply and then the page refreshed and i lost it all and the Murderous Rage about that was too overwhelming to rewrite it. someday though...

Have you ever had a fic stolen? I don't think so. I don't think my writing is popular enough to get noticed like that. Though I also write more than I read so if it did happen, I probably would never notice.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! Both Fallout from the Fade and Letters to Fenris were translated into Russian by a very kind reader :)

Have you ever cowritten a fic before? Nope. I think I'd be pretty miserable to collaborate with. I don't even use beta readers for this reason.

What’s your all time favourite ship? Listen. I know this is my dragon age blog for dragon age things but I'm breaking character for a moment here. for all my love of sollavellan and shakarian and fenhawke. My real otp is FitzChivalry Farseer x The Fool from the Realm of the Elderlings series by Robin Hobb. these books broke me. they changed how i think of storytelling and how i think of love. i cannot emphasize how insane the relationship between these two characters is, and i read the last trilogy AS IT WAS RELEASING, i waited YEARS for the resolution #iykyk. there is no greater love story in my heart than this one. "is it actually gay" it would take me 10 years and 10,000 words to answer that don't worry about it just trust me and read them. yes there's 16 but that's not relevant just read the first trilogy at least and if you have the brainrot you'll be happy for the rest and if not you can just stop there and be satisfied with a solid fantasy story.

now. i do not actually read OR write fanfic for this series. this is because it does not need it. to me the frustrations and agonies and disbelieving joy i get out of FitzLoved are part of what makes it perfect. I have basically nothing to add that is not already covered in the books and the ending, to me, is perfect.

this is the second time ive used this image in 3 days AND I'LL DO IT AGAIN as often as needed!!!!!!!! until everyone in my life gives in and reads them

What’s the wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Of things I've somewhat posted: the Trevelyan x Corypheus fic i got off the k!meme randomly-generate-a-pairing-and-situation post. I wrote a chapter or two more, realized it was shaping up to be Way too long to actually commit to at the time for crack-treated-seriously, and it's been backburner ever since. I would like to go through and sketch out something that is at max 15-20k so i can put a cap on it because i DO think it was really fun as character exploration for Corypheus who is otherwise a CRIMINALLY underutilized villain. he's great ok. the timing in DAI just... doesn't do him justice. also his best dialogue is locked to the Templar route which almost everyone else in the tumblr DA fandom skipped.

Of things i've never posted, a ME: Andromeda fic focusing on the relationship between Ryder & Sam. I got like--15k? or so into that and again realized it was gonna be a 100k endeavor for something probably no one but me would read, due to weirdness and tiny number of people who stayed active in MEA fandom. so i tabled it for a future ME obsession period that has not yet come to pass.

i'll also sneak in here my confession that I now have over 20k of words written for Rookanis and yet have not posted anything to AO3/only a 500 word snipped to tumblr. and probably several of these starts/sections will never get fully formed fics. but i DO intend to finish and share... something for them at least.

What are your writing strengths? I think I am pretty good at building tension, and making the reader feel invested enough to be sad/stressed/nervous when i want them to. my favorite compliments are often the ones like "i don't usually care about this character/trope/whatever but you sold me on it" because that's a harder target than someone already invested.

What are your writing weaknesses? Editing and then sharing it lmao. I'm GREAT at writing as in typing a bunch of things all in a row. everything after the process itself is done? not nearly as interested. I also have a hard time transitioning between sections/scenes and tend to overwrite the in-betweens to get from bit to bit--something that could probably be fixed more in editing if i bothered to do that part.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic? I think if it's more than a few short phrases or single sentences you can guess from context it can get annoying, reading wise. if there's some sort of in-line translation or hover-over-alt-text that makes it nicer. however i do write this anyway myself bc i love the idea of lost language/reverting to old habits or selves/etc too much, so like, just because it's kind of annoying to have to read through doesn't mean i think people shouldn't do it/it's not worth it. i sure won't stop.

First fandom you wrote for? Dragon Age: Inquisition lol. the first fanfics I ever wrote are still on my account. i wince at them now, but i think it's nice to have that proof of my progress/growth there. i don't need my AO3 to be a greatest highlights reel, just an archive.

Favourite fic you’ve ever written? Like Teeth Against His Heart, my Solavellan DAI-era prose poem weirdly formatted ficlet ♥︎ (on tumblr as the zine pages here, and on AO3 here). I am slowly Marinating the Trespasser & DATV sequels to this in my heart, but it will be slow to get them fully formed on paper.

whew 20 is a lot and i talk too much, this got long oops! Anyway tagginggggggg @baejax-the-great @m-m-m-myysurana @sageadvice @songofamazon @loquaciousquark @genjyoandgojyoandhakkai but i love reading writing-meta stuff like this so if any followers wanna do it, go ahead and do so & tag me so i can read everyone else's too :)

[tim-shepard]

“I sleep with a gun under my pillow… just so you know.” and “I can not go in there! I will have a heart attack, die, and it will be your fucking fault.” with dally please

hihi anonny, tysm for the request

word count: 856

summary: Johnny finds Dallas for comfort after a fight at home. mostly jus fluff

a/n: you didn’t name a ship so i defaulted to jally oops

Johnny strolled slowly down the dimly lit street, in no real rush to head anywhere really. He knew it wasn’t too smart to be out alone at this hour, but considering the scene he had just left at home, he felt dealing with getting jumped was just as good, if not a better way to spend his Friday night. 

He kept his eyes focused straight in front of him, shoulders back, switchblade in his hand within his pocket, the way Dally taught him after he got jumped the first time. “You’ll look tougher. And at the first sign of danger, you defend yourself anyway, anyhow, ‘kay Johnnycakes?”, Dallas’ words repeated in his mind.

The thought of Dallas Winston made him stop walking for a moment. Dally. He quickly looked around to get a sense of where he was, and recognized the part of town instantly. He took a breath, and then another, before turning left, heading straight towards’ Buck Merril’s place, Dally’s frequent place of choice to spend his evenings.

Johnny knocked on the door, swallowing hard, as though his anxieties were trying to escape out his mouth. He loosened his grip off his switch and took a deep breath. The place didn’t seem deserted, but it didn’t seem to be one of the rowdier nights either, so Johnny was hoping Dally wasn’t too far gone yet.

  “Can I help you?” Buck said, his voice filled with annoyance.

“H-hey Buck…” His voice quivered as he spoke. He closed his eyes and quickly took another breath before opening them again. “Hey man. Dally here?”

Buck had never really appreciated when Dallas’ younger buddies showed up, but Johnny guessed he either could sense his urgency or just plain out felt sorry for him.

“Yeah,” Buck grumbled, motioning up the stairs, “in his room.”

“Thanks.” he mumbled. Johnny stepped past Buck and quickly made his way up the stairs.

“Dally! Dallas, It’s me, Johnny,” he knocked thrice on the door before trying the knob. Locked. He knocked twice more. “Dallas!”

It was quiet for a moment, and then Johnny heard the shuffling of feet across Buck’s old, squeaky floor, and he let out a sigh of relief.

Dallas opened the door, his eyes half open, wearing a white sleeveless t-shirt and thin black-and-blue plaid boxers. He yawned, stretching his arms above his head. “‘Ey Johnny, you okay?”

Johnny didn’t answer right away, he just walked past Dallas, sat down on his bed, continuing to fight back the tears that had been trying to reveal just how scared he was. He put his head in his hands, and stared down at the floor as he spoke. 

“My pops… h-he came home drunk again. Went all berserk and threatening on me. Dally-” he paused and looked up at Dallas. At this point Dally’s face had fallen like it did all the other times Johnny relayed stories from home to him, the pure helplessness he felt while listening to Johnny displayed over every inch of his face. “Dally… I can’t go back there.”

Dallas scratched at the back of his neck, letting out a deep sigh. “Kid… I mean, sure you cans. Hell, don’t you think me and my pops ever-”

“Dally!” Johnny cried out. Dallas paused, shocked at just how hard this fight was hitting him. “Dallas, you don’t understand. I can not go in there! I will have a heart attack, die, and it will be your fucking fault.” Johnny sobbed between words, every tear that had been waiting to come out came out in droves. He slowly rocked back and forth on the bed in an attempt to self-soothe, his head once again buried deep in his hands.

Dallas took a seat next to Johnny at the foot of the bed, his hand instinctively running up and down Johnny’s back. Dallas had never been too good at comfort, and he never knew why Johnny seemed to always pick him to find solace in, but he always knew when he was needed and when he was not. 

And right now, Johnny needed him.

After a few quiet moments of Dally’s rubbing Johnny’s back while he rocked, Johnny slowly started to calm down and regain some composure. He knew he was safe with Dallas. He knew he could trust Dallas.

“Hey, Johnny, why don’t you… why don’t you stay here. For the night. With me.” Dallas said, finally breaking the silence. “We don’t gotta sleep if you don’t wanna, can stay up all night havin’ a sleepover like you and Pony do.” He added.

Johnny moved his hands from his face, a small smile forcing its way onto his face as he locked eyes with Dallas. As if on cue, he yawned, and leaned slightly more into Dallas’ touch.

  “I’d like that very much,” he yawned again, and plopped over onto his side, laying near the edge of the bed. Dallas smiled, and laid next to Johnny, throwing his arm over his waist.

“Hey, Johnny?”

“Yeah Dal?”

“I-I… I sleep with a gun under my pillow… just so you know.” Dallas grabbed Johnny’s hand, squeezing it. “You’re safe, here, with me.”

[inquisimer]

IT’S FRIDAY MER!!!!! Let’s see some Solas x Lavellan for the prompt ❛ i’m sorry that i can’t save you. ❜ from the hit 'em where it hurts sentence starters? 🤷‍♀️👀😈

takes your angst and rotates it into fluff

some pre-ship solavellan for @dadrunkwriting

wc: 994

~~~

Irosyl frowned at the chess board, trying to make her confused expression one of deep thought. Across the stone platform, the Commander was very politely pretending not to watch her from the corner of his eyes. She hesitantly lifted a rook and rolled the marble cylinder between her fingers.

It clicked against the board when she set it down. Cullen gave up his pretense of ignorance and immediately folded his hands under his chin, considering. Suppressing a sigh, Irosyl’s gaze darted out across the gardens.

The things shemlen did for fun. And the things she apparently did to appease the shems.

She meant to look back, to pretend that she could do any sort of analysis on the Commander’s strategy, but the glint of sunlight off a bald head caught her eye. Solas was in the gardens, collecting elfroot by the looks of it.

“Savhalla!” she called, a bit louder than strictly necessary, but she wanted to be sure Solas could not pretend not to hear her. Plate metal scraped in an unpleasant screech as Cullen jumped slightly, but success! Solas turned so that she was looking at him in profile, one eyebrow slightly raised.

Elfroot in hand, he came closer. “On dhea’him, Inquisitor,” he said at a much more reasonable volume. His low voice slipped down her spine like silk and she suppressed a shameful shiver.

She frowned, though. “I thought we were over the nonsense of that awful title.”

A distressed noise came from across the board. Cullen gave her an exasperated look as he moved one of his smallest pieces to capture the rook she’d just placed.

“Fenhedis,” she muttered.

“You really must stop disparaging your title in public, Inquisitor,” Cullen said, the honorific rolling from his tongue pointedly. He tilted his head toward where a number of agents and servants were clustered, mere paces from their game. “It does poorly for morale and faith to have our leader so…”

He trailed off, probably searching for the least offensive way to phrase his concern. Ever merciless, Irosyl crossed her arms and frowned.

“Impertinent?” Solas suggested, the hint of a glib smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“I am not—“

“It is your move, is it not?” Solas cut her off smoothly, unquestionable with the infuriatingly smooth authority. He glanced over the board and this time his smirk reached the surface. “Well. They always did say losing was it’s own art form.”

Irosyl huffed, wondering why she’d called him over in the first place. “What, could you do better? It’s not as if chess was a common pasttime in my clan.”

“I could, yes.”

Irosyl rolled her eyes. She gave Solas her back and considered the board, as if looking at the pieces would actually help her. As she lifted one of her pawns, Cullen offered her a sympathetic smile.

“Do not feel bad,” he said gently. “They say chess is a skill learned over a lifetime. I’ve been playing since I was a child, myself.”

“Is that so?” Irosyl hummed curiously. She couldn’t imagine any of the wiggly, high-spirited children in her clan sitting still long enough to learn even the basic rules of this game. Nor would it occur to any of the elders to insist that they should. A pang of longing struck her heart and for a moment she longed to flee but—

“Oh, fenhedis,” she hissed. Cullen slid his queen along the board and a self-satisfied smirk pulled at the scar on his lip.

“I do believe that’s checkmate.”

“Of course it is,” Irosyl groaned, burying her hands in her hair. “Oh, Bull is gonna have my head over this. He’ll know I haven’t been paying attention.”

“I’m sure he knows already,” Solas commented. “He would be a poor spy otherwise.”

Irosyl’s face twisted in distaste. “Ugh. Don’t remind me.”

Stone scraped against stone as the Commander stood, sketched a bow to the elf across from him. “Thank you for the game, Inquisitor. I’m afraid I must take my leave and return to work.”

“Of course,” Irosyl waved her hand. “It was a…pleasant distraction, Commander.”

“Was it?” Solas asked, surprising Irosyl by sliding into Cullen’s empty seat as he walked away to the battlements. The other elf reset the board with deft, knowing hands, ignoring his partner’s surprised look. Lacing her fingers together, Irosyl rested her chin on them and regarded him with ill-disguised curiosity.

“And if it was?”

“Then I would have expected you to come up with a better way to express it.”

Something halfway between a laugh and a scoff escaped Irosyl. For as unreadable as Solas had been—since the beginning—he could certainly read her like a book.

“Yes, well…” She pursed her lips, considering the fresh alignment of pieces. Solas had given her the ivory half, so she was expected to move first. So he could gauge her style, no doubt. Bull had told her that intellectuals used such analysis to learn intimate details of their opponents.

Intellectuals. Irosyl wrinkled her nose.

“The commander is someone I must appease,” she said, nudging a pawn forward. “As opposed to this game which—“

She folded her hands and regarded him intently over them. “I will enjoy. Immensely.”

“Yes, well.” Solas cleared his throat—was it Irosyl’s imagination, or were the tips of his ears going pink? It should be able to tell against his lily white skin, but as in all things, he was hard to read. “I couldn’t quite save you from the Commander’s attention, so the least I could do is replace it with something more…palatable.”

“What high praise you give yourself,” Irosyl teased.

He rolled his eyes, then raised an eyebrow as she moved her pawn forward rather aggressively. “Is that the kind of recklessness the Iron Bull has been teaching you?”

Irosyl pouted.

Leaning forward, Solas pushed her pawn back to where it had been before. “Let me teach you how to beat him, falon.”

[bluewren]

HI WREN HAPPY FRIDAY! I see you would like Sera fluff! Maybe a little hurt/comfort to start it off, for Sera/Tali - "They shouldn't treat you like that." from the vague angsty prompts??

Hello Niri!!! This made me think of how Tali always seems to side with Sera. I used lo Mai gai as a food stand-in, since I was too lazy to create new lore. LOL @dadrunkwriting wc: 1120

The morning comes to Taliesen by the aching rumble in her stomach. That was the only sign that slept at all the previous night, the sudden nagging pain in her stomach. She had not eaten anything since Solas left. Last night's appetite leaving with her, along with the elven healer and trusted friend. They had failed to rescue Wisdom and Solas needed time to be away and to mourn, and though she understood that and tried not to think about what she would have done if it was her own siblings…

She hoped that Solas trusts her enough to stay and confide in her. Worse that something felt final in the way he left, the way he couldn't bear to answer her when he walked. How she seemed invisible when he said his last sentence.

It's possible that yesterday might have been the last night she'll ever see Solas again, and she is not ready to sit on that. Not when she feels like her worries as Inquisitor are stacking and she's losing distance on the people she can turn to.

Still, feeling down and worried about everything collapsing isn't helping her fill an empty stomach. The Dalish camp is close enough for a cozy home style meal.

Taliesen takes a quick sniff of her leather trousers, it still stinks of sweat from last night's battle. Though it isn't off-putting enough for her to not put them on along with a loose tunic and boots. She peels open the canvas covers of her tent, now seeing the sun is already a quarter away from its highest point.

Sera's already sitting by the smothered campfire, a doubtless sign that Taliesen slept for too long.

She waves. "Took you long enough. Feeling awake now, sleepyhead?"

Taliesen blinks, she can feel a smile slowly curl onto her lips. Somehow Sera's flippant forwardness is always enough to do that.

"Come on." Tali waves back, beckoning for Sera to follow her. "I need food. You can help me carry."

“Where we going?” Sera’s eyes widen, but she follows along anyway.

“The Dalish camp!” Taliesen points to the other side of the river.

“The Dalish camp?” Sera groans, crossing her arms.

“I got a sudden craving for [lo mai gai]. If they don’t have any, we can trade for aged embrium leafs and grains. We can make them ourselves.” Taliesen speaks, around feeling herself drool.

Sera grumbles, dragging her heel and slowing them both.

“What’s wrong with that?” Both elves stop, the Dalish elf of the two raises a brow.

“Some of them were giving me weird looks.” The City elf of the two replies, her foot begins tapping with irritation. “Like they got snot up their breathers. Don’t think they like me.”

Taliesen points her nose, unbearably close with her eyes in judgmental squint. “Seraaa, did you say something to them yesterday?”

“Nothin’.” Sera huffs, pushing the Inquisitor back by the shoulders to retake some space. “Why have to think that it was me who caused something?” Her voice rising.

In truth, Taliesen didn’t believe anything did happen between Sera and Hawen’s clan. Though she already sees the beads of sweat dripping off of Sera's neck, and is enjoying the sight of it.

“What if I didn’t?” She smirks, her words almost sound like purring.

“You!” Sera growls, she dashes to grab and headlock the other elf’s head.

Sera’s grip is stronger than Taliesen expected, feeling her head locked between two logs. Though not enough to stop her from laughing, she retaliates by tickling the other blond on her exposed side. She slowly manages to push Sera along towards the camp, managing to walk the straightest path she can while blinded and having her sense of direction turned sideways.

“Andaran Atish’an, my sister. It’s good to see you again.” Hawen stands in front of them.

The entangled elves realize they look dimwitted while waltzing into their camp. They swiftly straighten themselves, standing like impeccably professionals.

Taliesen clears her throat. “We would like to trade for food if your clan can spare anything.”

“We are happy to trade with you?” He nods, then turns to Sera. “But I would appreciate that your friend stays out of our camp.”

“What?” Taliesen gives back a baffled blink.

“Some of our People are perplexed by your friendship you two have, it will be better if she stayed out of the camp.”

She crosses her arms, a finger tapping her left shoulder, worrying that she might end up something regrettable. Sera is more vocal with her displeasure, grumbling at Hawen.

“She’ll be beside me.” Taliesen reassures. “We’re not here to cause anyone trouble.”

“That might be the case.” Hawen nods. He sighs, clearly reluctant to request this of her. “But we need to keep the peace between our people, the Dales have not been hospital as of late.”

“What does my friend have to do with any of that?”

“It’s a precaution. I want trouble on neither of our sides.”

Taliesen shakes her head. “We aren’t here to cause any trouble…”

“Inky, it’s fine.” Sera interrupts Taliesen, tugging her back by the shoulders. “Just get the stuff, I’ve got no problems waiting.”

“I’m not letting them treat you like that.” She says, her eyes narrowing.

“Got it!” Sera throws up her hands, back away from the camp. “You don’t need to. I’m not going to be around whoevers.”

“Sorry it has to be this way.” Taliesen sighs.

She chooses to follow along with her friend, rather than allow the clan to have their prejudices.

The elves tread back the path they walked, though now Sera feels her stomach growling unlike earlier. The walk feels twice as long back, and worse knowing that no treat is waiting for them when they return.

“Not a big loss. I’m sure the soldiers will have a meal ready.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Sera snaps.

“You think you’re the only city elf, who’s been turned away by them?” Taliesen raises a brow. “Dalish clans have been like that for as long as I’ve known them.”

“What’s it? My ears, too droopy for them?” Sera rolls her eyes. She feels herself gagging. “Not my first time hearing that either. Stuffin’ our mouths would have made everything better.”

“And you’ll be fine with that?”

“Doesn’t matter! We could have gotten a good meal.”

“You didn’t deserve to be treated like a roughneck, just for not being one of them.” Taliesen shakes her head, seeming surprisingly stern. “I’m not letting that happen.”

“Doesn’t need to be your choice.” Sera whispers, her cheeks feeling a bit flushed.

Though she doesn’t want to admit it with words, she’s grateful that Taliesen sided with her over the Dalish clan.

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

Edddddd happy Friday how something for Alora x Solas 👀?? "Sharing a dessert" for maximum fluff (but bonus points for somehow also making it angsty lmfao) happy writing!

CHALLENGE ISSUED. CHALLENGE ACCEPTED. CHALLENGE DESTROYED. Now weep and regret the choices you have made Niri.

For @dadrunkwriting

Rated G: Angst, ~1k words

A Plate For You | Exalted_Dawn

She felt him arrive before she heard him. 

The Fade always seemed to ripple with his presence nowadays, as if his very being was too big to hold even in a place like this. Alora choked down a hasty breath, steadying herself on her one arm against the food-laden banquet table. 

“There were more people here the first time,” she chuckled, the sound hollow and weak. “Enough that you couldn’t move without bumping someone’s shoulder.”

Her voice echoed in the now abandoned Main Hall of Skyhold, entirely empty of people save for two. His footsteps rang between every word, steady like a metronome as he drew closer. Closer. Painfully closer.

“...I wish you had been there to see it.” 

Too close.

His steps came to a sudden halt, just a few mere paces behind her. Alora felt like she was going to be sick.

“As do I, Vhenan.” 

Her hand balled into a fist, scrunching the pristine tablecloths in her clenched grasp. She knew this wasn’t real, but Alora thanked the Creators anyway that her back was turned to him then. This was the first time since leaving that he’d actually spoken to her. That he stood here like this, in that form. 

She didn’t want their first meeting like this to be through tears.

“I had saved some cake for you, you know. Me and Josie spent an hour picking out the flavors. I had hoped that maybe…” The thought of that fucking plate, clutched optimistically in her hands the entire evening, still haunted her dreams at times. As it was currently– but this was the first time in her memory that he was actually here to share it. “Well I guess better late than never.”

She stood– forced herself to stand– and moved down the line of tables, towards where she  remembered the dessert buffet to be. Metronome steps followed her like a ghost, always lingering just a few feet behind but never drawing too near. That was fine, she supposed. It was more than she had dared to hope for before.

Alora stopped in front of a veritable bounty of sweets, all laid out on perfectly polished trays, untouched and unspoiled by the wear of time. She could recall the flavor of each, traded at first through laughter and elation, and then through tears when the cakes had been placed before her. 

They sat innocent in front of her now, their delicate frills and sugar-sweet powder almost mocking in their sincerity. 

She picked up the platter and turned to face him.

Just like the desserts, time had not touched the gentle, freckle-kissed slopes of Solas’ face. But, then again, she supposed it never truly had. Just another thing she had failed to notice. But she took her time to look at him now, if only because she wasn’t sure if she’d ever get another chance.

He stood draped in golds and greys, a sun-white wolf pelt draped over one shoulder and his clothes tailored to suit every line of his body. There was once a time she would have laughed at the thought of seeing him in anything other than a simple, thread-bear tunic, but seeing him here like this– not just regal, but actually royal? It almost made things make sense. 

She stepped hesitantly, boldly closer and extended the plate for him to take one of his choosing. “I recommend avoiding the chocolatey-looking ones. They’re made with deep-mushroom and anise.”

For a single, heartbroken second, it seemed as though Solas had almost smiled. 

He closed the gap and plucked one from the polished silver– a small cube of butter cake, topped in raspberries and creme. Alora took one of the same– they had been her favorite of the flavors– but even as the crumbs fell from her fingers to the floor, she could not bring herself to eat it. 

“Please don’t leave.” Her eyes stayed glued to Solas out of fear that he’d vanish just for asking. 

He held the perfectly frosted treat in the crux of his palm, his jaw and fingers stiff but not tense. He’d been expecting this. “You know I cannot stay…”

“You can. You know you can,” she insisted lowly, too tired for desperation. “No matter how many times I have to eat cake alone, there will always be a plate here waiting for you.”

“Alora.” He reached out to touch her– to brush aside a strand of her hair, maybe– but before he could, she stepped back and away. Doing so broke her heart, but if she’d let him touch her now, it’d only shatter her completely when he inevitably left with the rising dawn.

She shook her head and smiled sadly. “Not here. Not like this.”

In his eyes, Alora could see the tempest of hurts– guilt, longing, sorrow and regret, but both of them knew that he would not take that final step to bridge the gap. His gaze fell into a cold, distant acceptance, and at last he dropped his hand.

Her head dipped in a grateful nod. “Then maybe next time. But until then, thank you for coming. I really did want to share these with you.”

“Yes,” His shoulders dipped, weighed by disappointment, but he lifted the small cake to his lips regardless,  “As did I.”

Alora smiled, truly smiled, and, closing her eyes, ate her piece of cake in one bite. The flavors were always more vivid in the Fade, but tonight the creme was especially sweet, and the berries especially tart. Like summer days and opened books and the gentle curve of a bow-lipped smirk. 

It was the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted.

Tears slipped silently down her cheeks as she chewed and then swallowed that single, too-small bite of cake. If only it had lasted longer. If only she had savored it.

Then maybe.

But when she opened her eyes, Alora was alone in her bed once more.

[rosella-writes]

Happy Friday Ro!!! For your consideration... Lavellan, Solas, & Felassan + “ We can't keep this up forever. ” from the Angst, Fluff & Smut list. :D

>:] thank you so much Niriiiiii you gave me a chance to try out a funky lil headcanon I spun up today. Just a head's up — in my canon Virelan finds Felassan as a tranquil and puts in the work to cure him. He was once a bodied spirit of Hope. I credit @dreadfutures for the final line and the headcanons surrounding it (you'll know it when you see it and I'm sorry Blue for borrowing aksfhjgkfjhgkfdjhg). It's rambly and all over the place aaaaaaaaaaaaa

For @dadrunkwriting

Pairing: Felassan x Virelan Lavellan (with past Solasmance for both of them) Rating: M for casual nudity? they're in bed

~~~

Felassan didn’t have the heart to tell Virelan that she cried in her sleep. 

She was so strong otherwise — head held high, shoulders braced, spine curved like a tensed bow — and to know she showed such vulnerability would steal the iron of her will. But he held it close, that knowledge, and her when she allowed it. 

It was rare, but happened with increasing regularity, for her to invite him into her bed. It was not her heart — for she showed that only to her son now — but it was a comforting, safe place to be. She didn’t expect platitudes and explanations and professions of love from him. They knew each other’s pain and burdens as only two people who loved the same person could. 

They never spoke of Solas, but he was the ghost between their lips all the same. 

It was during one of these nights, when she had dared ask him to stay, that he felt most drawn to her. He woke with a start when her hand gripped his wrist — expecting her to be awake, to need him — but stilled when her sleep-stricken voice called out with raw, wordless anguish. 

He curled close, barely taller or wider than she, and allowed her grip on his arm. He reached out to touch what remained of the arm Solas had taken — she reached back, as if the hand remained. Felassan wound up awkwardly clasping the end of her stump, swallowing back tears of his own as she screamed hers into her pillow, then his chest. 

“Ir abelas,” he murmured beneath his breath, dragging her sleeping body close. “Ir abelas, falon.”

This pain in her — raw and unfiltered, fresh in her dream as if happening at that very moment — spoke to a pain deep within him that matched. While he had settled somewhat in the wake of Tulin and Cole bringing him back to himself, ragged, torn pieces did not always fit back where they had been whole before. Some festered and rotted, worn more ragged still by this muffled scream against his chest. 

Felassan took as much of Virelan into his arms as he could, searching for the old comfort he could once offer. He used to know exactly what to say, what to do, how to find that one shining piece of possibility in the impossible. But now, in the dark, in the room that smelled of Virelan’s soap and their blended sweat, that swam with the sounds of sobs and gasping breaths, there was nothing but the cold chill of finality. 

In the end, he didn’t need to tell her. She woke herself, her sobs suddenly cutting short with a startled gasp. For a moment she seemed as if she would remain in his arms, clutched close, but with a deep, heart-rending groan she shoved at him and tore away. What had ached for her now bruised deeply with his own hurt.

“No,” she stammered thickly. “No, stop, I don’t need —”

“Of course not,” he snapped, feeling his pain sharpen further to a cutting edge. “You don’t need anything or anyone, do you, lethallen?”

Her eye was bright in the darkness, and there was an audible snap when her dropped jaw closed. Felassan leapt upon that chance, leaning up on one elbow and jutting his chin in defiance. 

“You stand alone. You go your own way. You call upon me on your own terms, asking for cheap comfort, borrowed closeness, and shove me away when your tears escape on their own? Do you know who you remind me of?”

“Stop it,” she snapped, chest heaving. The moonlight glinted off a silvery scar on her breast. “I’m not… no.”

His nose wrinkled as his lip pulled back over his teeth. “You are not the first I’ve held in such a way. But where before I could offer hope for a brighter future, there’s nothing in me now. Would you kill my comfort too?”

Her hand rose to cover her face, and she shook her head frantically side to side. It looked as if her fingertips dug into her flesh. “Stop it. Stop it.”

Something loud, frantic, hopeless sprang up in his chest, screeching aloud its despair until he let it out in a whispered, “We have to talk about him.”

“No!” she all but screamed. 

“We have to!” Louder, this time, but not nearly a shout. “We can’t keep this up forever. We can’t.”

“I want to,” Virelan begged. She lowered her hand and plucked at his — he could see gouges from her nails underneath her eyes. “Ignore it with me, put it away in that unspoken place where it can’t hurt us. I thought you understood —”

“And that is why I must insist upon it now,” he said firmly, returning the clutch of her hand. He grasped her other arm, which reached as if with its missing hand, and ignored her wince at the touch. “You’re using me. I’m using you. We can’t. All it does is hurt us.”

At the confession, the sharp hurt, the bruised hurt, the rotting, ragged pieces all coalesced into an ache that was the ache of cold. It spread through him, icy and leaden and heavy, and there was an odd, self-indulgent comfort in it. It satisfied him, this despair, and he reached for her with it. 

“You are loving me in the place of Solas, aren’t you?”

Her lip shook, and her eye darted away. “No, I —”

“Don’t lie to me.”

A wordless groan, paired with a weak pull, was not enough to free her from his grasp. He didn’t let go. 

“I know because I am doing the same,” he hissed. “I use you to bandage my pain and yet I bleed through.”

She turned her eye to the ceiling, her mouth working open and shut. No sound escaped. 

“I feel this despair of yours,” he continued, “as surely as it is my own. It fills me up, like so much poison, and yet it will not do me the pleasure of letting me die. No, we keep on living, Virelan, we keep on going, clutching at each other like drowning rats. We pretend like we can stop him if given the chance, but can we?”

“Of course —”

“Could you kill him, Virelan?” Felassan said, his voice rising finally into something resembling volume. “Could you? Will that rage drive your sword through his heart, or will your misery drag you down into uselessness?”

Her eye finally met his, and tears streamed from it down her cheek. She held on to him tight, until he could almost feel her fingers wringing the blood from his frozen hand. 

“No,” she sobbed. It pitched up into a strangled wail. “But I have to, Felassan, I have to —”

He shook his head and pulled his hand from hers, raising both instead to cup her cheeks. “You don’t have to do anything. Haven’t you done enough?”

The steel of her spine collapsed. He caught her, clasped her close, and drew her beneath the blankets once more. She was nearly as cold as he felt. What echoed within him, between them, perhaps even inside her now, was a soul-killing refrain. 

Futile. Futile. Futile.

[drunken-drengr]

Happy Friday! For DWC, might I suggest “i appreciate your concern, but i got 10 hours of sleep on friday so it cancels out.” for Karrie Cadash/Blackwall?

Did some Karrie/Sera fluff last week, so now I'm feeling some Karrie/Blackwall! Thank you for the prompt my swagalicious friend!

@dadrunkwriting

Sounds of fire crackling softly filled the barn. It warmed Blackwall's calloused hands, rough from splinter wounds long past healed, even with the cold Skyhold draft blowing into the barn. But he didn't seem to mind any temperature, he sat at his worktable, entirely focused on his carving. He was so focused, infact, that he almost failed to notice someone approaching him.

Pausing for a moment, he set down his tools, and turning his head to be greeted with the Inquisitor. This encounter shocked him a bit, given that it was one of her few, and rare, days off. And on those spare days, she often indulged herself at the tavern all day, or helped Solas out with something. And while she showed up at his barn often, it was unusual on days such as these.

Blackwall raised a brow, but couldn't help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Karrie met him with a smile of her own, as she moved to lean up against a support beam, looking at him in a funny way. "Hey," she greeted, tilting her head to the side.

"My Lady," he nodded, turning to tilt his head in the same fashion, resting his head in his hand. "How can I help you, on your fine day off?"

"Well," Karrie began, giving a small chuckle. "I was hoping I could stick around you for the rest of the day, yeah?"

At this, Blackwall didn't know what to say. Looking outside, he judged that it was around mid afternoon. Odd, that she wouldn't use a free night to get wasted in the tavern, but an accepted oddity. "I wouldn't mind that at all," Blackwall answered, returning a chuckle of his own. "Your company is always appreciated, you know. You're welcome to hang around as long as you please. You might be a bit bored, though." He nodded towards his worktable, and the work-in-progress carving that sat atop it's surface. "I could work on this some other time, though, if you'd like my full, undivided attention.

Glancing over at what he was working on, Karrie clicked her tongue. "Ah, gotcha," she nodded. "It's fine. I wouldn't want to take you from your work. Spending time around you is enough for me. We haven't had a lot of time to ourselves lately, have we?"

"No, no we have not," Blackwall sighed contently. His smile still lingered on his face, showing that he was indeed happy that Karrie wanted to spend time with him, even if he was thrown into his work.

"So this is as good as time as any!" Karrie grinned at him. "This will be an evening well-spent with you, I'll make sure of it."

"Sounds promising. Make your self at home, My Lady."

Karrie didn't need to be told. She had already spent enough time in the barn to have become quite comfortable. For the next few hours, Karrie lingered, just like she had said. She left every once in awhile, but only briefly, quickly returning with something in hand. A book to read aloud to Blackwall from the loft above while he worked down below. Sketch paper, to doodle her surroundings- and, Blackwall, who became too flustered and endeared to speak upon being shown it. And of course, food to share while Blackwall took breaks to talk with her. It was something the both of them were content with, just being within each other's presence.

And, Karrie didn't consider herself the affectionate or lovey-dovey type, but she found herself enjoying gently ruffling Blackwall's hair, or giving him a small peck on his forehead as she passed by him when she was up and about. And Blackwall didn't want to admit that Karrie was indeed distracting, despite how red he got from said actions showing it. But she was a good sort of distracting, one he didn't mind, welcomed, even. She would lie on the stairs above him, saying random things, asking random questions, all to which he was glad to answer. Having someone to talk to while working was something he came to enjoy.

There were a few times Karrie even knew she was distracting, for example, when she had tried to situate herself in his lap. Blackwall humored her for awhile, allowing her to sit, holding her so she wouldn't slip out, laughing alongside her when they both came to the conclusion that she was a bit too big to fit comfortably in his lap while he whittled away. Hell, somehow she managed to get him into a game of chess, at which he lost terribly.

Before the two knew it, the sun was setting on Skyhold, sky becoming dimmer by the minute. Blackwall paused a moment to look behind him, and above he saw her. She lie on her back up on the floor of the loft, head over the edge, her fiery hair falling beneath her, blowing softly in the breeze. Karrie's eyes were shut, she seemed peaceful.

"It's getting late, My Lady," he mused from down below, up at a seemingly dozing Karrie. "You're welcome to retire to your quarters, or the tavern, if you wish. You look tired."

At this, Karrie peeked an eye open down at Blackwall. It seemed that she wasn't sleeping, or dozing off at all. "I appreciate your concern, but I got 10 hours of sleep on Friday, so it cancels out." She said nonchalantly. "I'll stay up as long as you stay up, doesn't bother me one bit."

At that, Blackwall gave a sigh. She truly was committed, wasn't she? Of course, he hadn't wanted her to leave at all, but he wasn't going to admit that. Turning back to his work table, he set down his tools, gazing at his creation. He had made a lot of progress that day. Certainly he could allow himself a break, as a reward for getting so far? A break lasting the rest of the evening, and into the night. Yes, surely he owed Karrie his free time, some of his undivided and full attention he has mentioned before.

Pushing himself away from the worktable, and standing up, Blackwall stretched, giving an exhausted sigh. At this, Karrie's interest was peaked, peeking open an eye yet again to follow his movement. She watched in anticipation as he made his way up the stairs to the loft with her, and approached. And though he couldn't see her face, Blackwall could feel her smile as he came to lie down on the loft floor with her.

"Done with your work for the day?" She mused up at him, raising her head in question.

"For the day," Blackwall affirmed her, smiling gently down at her.

She sat up, looking down at him with that same grin she had hours ago. "You sure do throw yourself into your work," she commented.

To that, Blackwall gave a sigh, once again shifting his gaze to look down at his work. After a moment, he looked back at a content Karrie. "You could take us to the tavern, if you'd like," he offered suddenly.

"Nah," Karrie declined abruptly, to Blackwall's surprise. Karrie? Declining an invite to drink? Unheard of! "I'd rather stay here. With you." She stood up, walking over to Blackwall's bed of sorts and layed right back down again.

Blackwall rested his head on his hand, looking Karrie over. "Thought you weren't tired? What about your 10 hours of sleep Friday?"

"10 more hours doesn't hurt," Karrie shrugged, repositioning herself on the bed. She lie on the side closest to the window that overlooked stables and the door to the kitchens, arms behind her head and resting one leg over the other. "Besides, we don't have to sleep. We could do other things. Talk. Other things... Talk."

Talk. Blackwall didn't have an issue with that. Maybe just lying next to Karrie and talking, holding each other close, was better than getting wasted in the tavern. "That does sound nice," he admitted, standing up himself and coming to lie down next to her. It was dark outside, now. The hustle and bustle of the courtyard had died down, no one was out. But the silence of the night was filled with their chatter, their conversations, their laughter. Their poking, their prodding, their caressing. The noise dying down, fading back into silence, a comfortable one, filled with only their warm breaths close to one another's skin. This was better than the tavern, wasn't it?

[thevikingwoman]

Hay 7

Fandom: Dragon Age. Words: 1936 (this part)

Beginning | Part 6 || Start on ao3 | read this on ao3 || part 8

Iwyn Lavellan x Solas | modern AU | romance Rating: Explicit. Fluff, sexual content, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, safe sex

Chapter 7

Iwyn checks her watch again. Two hours. She should probably leave soon, just in case there’s traffic. It’s early for traffic, but you never know. She checks the arrivals website, and Solas’ plane is scheduled to land 5 minutes early. It’s Friday, so the airport is busy. Customs might take a while.

She flips back to her work. He’d wait for her if she’s late.

She stares at her code. Checks her email. Stares at her code. It’s not like she’ll be done with this anyway, she planned on finishing it up next week. She closes the laptop and removes it from the dock.

At the airport, Iwyn decides to pay for parking, so she can wait for him at the arrivals rather than sitting at the cell-phone lot. She hurries inside, and finds the international arrivals. Wycome isn’t a big airport, and she finds the flight from Jader on the lightboard easily enough. Luggage. He should be here soon.

It still takes a while, and before long she’s involved in a work chat; she did leave early after all, and someone had a question for her. She hopes the remote help is enough.

“Hi,” Solas says.

He is very tall, and very handsome and very close. Iwyn puts her phone away.

“Hi,” she says.

She hasn’t seen him since they started dating, though they have been in constant contact. She is both familiar, and unfamiliar with him – she knows him, but she hasn’t shared a space with him since their dinner. She shakes her uncertainty off, steps into his space, and pulls him down for a kiss.

It’s the right choice. Solas lets go of his roller bag and wraps his arms around her, half lifting her and deepening the kiss. His mouth is just as divine as she remembers, and the needy groan is hers. She wants to feel him closer and closer still.

Someone coughs and a baby cries and she’s reminded that she can’t strip him naked – not here, not yet. She pulls back a little.

“It’s very good to see you, Iwyn.”

“You too, Solas. I hope the trip was nice? I’m parked in the airport garage, so we can get going. I thought it might be nice to eat at home and not go out, but if you’d rather find a restaurant, we can go somewhere downtown.”

“Going to your place sounds lovely, Iwyn.”

Solas smiles and takes her hand, and his bag in the other, and they walk to her car.

-

Traffic is not too bad, even though Iwyn says it’s rush hour. Wycome seem to have better infrastructure than Jader, and Solas is not surprised. He talks about his trip and small things from his job, and things he wants to do with the farmhouse during the ride. Iwyn keeps her eyes on the road, of course, but Solas can’t keep his eyes from her. She’s beautiful, and alive and real beside him.

Soon enough they’re parked in Iwyn’s apartment building. Her car is large and rather nice, he thinks, and the parking spot is tight. He has to get out before she parks, and she backs it confidently into the spot with less than five centimeters to the garage pillar.

“I prefer my bike, but the car is useful.”

“I’m glad I didn’t have to sit on the back like a school crush all the way from the airport.”

Iwyn laughs, and kisses his cheek.

He stops himself from pushing her against the pillar.

“Let’s go up,” Iwyn says.  She walks to a green door and swipes a card on the card reader. The door opens to a concrete staircase. “Sorry, there is no elevator.”

“I’ll manage.”

“I know.” She grins. “The suitcase looks lighter than a bale of hay.”

He lifts it and follows her, but before she turns her gaze lingers on his arms. He remembers the summer too, and she can look all she wants.

Her apartment is on the 2nd floor, and this time she uses a code to open the door.

“It’s 941941. I’ll write it down for you.”

They walk in, and he curiously looks around. They’re in a short entry way with a door on the left. Iwyn drops her car keys on a small white table, next to tall succulent of some kind. Aloe, maybe. He can see a living room through a doorway, light coming from a large window with white curtains, and more plants in the windowsill.

“Let me take your jacket.”

The hallway door is a shallow closet, keeping everything neat and out of sight. Iwyn takes his jacket and hangs it. Solas makes sure to put his shoes in there too, next to hers.

“So, this is where I live,” Iwyn says, gesturing to the room beyond. It’s a large combined living and dining room, filled with white and cream colors, a brown leather sofa, and plants everywhere. The kitchen is through a doorway, and there’s another hallway on the other side of the dining table.

It’s lovely,” Solas says, but he is no longer looking at the room. Iwyn is right next to him, in person. Months of thinking about her, a chance meeting, and more time spend talking and longing. He isn’t sure who moves first, but they’re kissing, pressed against each other. Greedy and eager, he runs his tongue over her lips and she’s already opening, letting him in, pushing into him.

She backs him against the doorframe, and he wants her closer, runs his hands down her back, over her ass. She grinds into him and it’s too much and not enough. He’s hard and desperate and he needs more friction, more of her. She bucks into him, and bites his jaw, kisses his throat. He still wants more. He throws his head back and pulls on her clothes, hands sliding underneath her blouse, touching her skin. He roams up, across the lace of her bra, flicking her nipple. She moans and nips his collarbone, and he pulls her blouse off. Her hands are unbuttoning him, pulling his shirt out of his slacks.

“Come,” she says, and pulls on his wrist as he’s trying to undo her pants.

She leads him through the room, to the hallway and he kisses her there, against the wall. He almost bangs his head against a high shelf full of overflowing greenery. He doesn’t care, and digs his hands into her ass when she wraps her leg around him.

“Where,” he asks, lifting her. The hallway has three doors.

“Right.” She kisses him, hot and wet. “Yours. Your right.”

He carries her there, pushing the door open to a spacious bedroom and drops her on the cream colored sheets. She shimmies out of her pants.

“Iwyn. I – ”

“Yes.”

She reaches for him, and he falls into her easily, kissing, touching, kissing. They’ve been talking and texting and video calling and all it’s accomplished is fuel his longing. He’s been half-satisfied and hungry. Nothing compares to her skin under his fingertips, the softness of her lips, the sharpness of her teeth. While their hands and mouths roam, they tear at their clothes in desperation. They’re naked, clothes gone and crumbled on the floor.

Solas groans when her hand finds his erection, and she pumps slowly. She kisses his chest, flicks her tongue over his nipple, bites down lightly. It’s almost too much, the sensations overwhelming him. He grasps at the blanket, at her, sliding his hand inelegantly between her legs. She doesn’t mind, bucking against him hot and wet. He collects himself and strokes her gently, then harder, then gently. She moans sweetly, making him redouble his efforts, dipping two fingers into her hot wetness.

Her rhythm on his cock falter, and then she grips again. He thrusts into her hand, and has to let go of her, twisted on the bed as they are.

“Iwyn, please,” is all he gets out, half coherent thought of needing more, more of her, now. She understands, and leans over him, opening her drawers. He flicks her nipples, causing her to tear at the box, ripping the top off. She fishes out a condom, opens it, and rolls it on. Solas swears and flips her. He hovers over her, though he’s in no position to wait. His need is overflowing. Iwyn smiles and wraps her legs around him, drawing him in.

“Fuck me, Solas,” she says.

“Yes, Iwyn – “

He slides into her heat, wet and tight and perfect. They both move a little frantic, crashing together, but then they find a rhythm and it feels so good. It’s been so long, and her eyes are full of her need and he wants to love her forever. He bites his lip, and she kisses his neck and it’s too much. He fumbles his hand down where they’re joined and it’s not elegant or skillful but Iwyn moans and throws her head back and dig her hands into his back. The pressure is building at the base of his cock and it’s so good, so much, so hot and tight, and he comes, his orgasm rolling over him.

She strokes the back of his neck and kisses him when he rolls to the side. It was very fast, and he’s slightly embarrassed, but he was too overwhelmed with the ferocity of his need.

“Iwyn, can I?”

His hand wanders down between her legs, and she nods. She’s slick with her own juices, swollen and hot with need. He can focus now, and he categorizes her every whimper and shudder. He circles her clit, slowly, rolls it between his fingers, making her gasp. He turns and uses his other hand to part her folds and push two fingers inside her heat. She lifts her hips and he uses three fingers, and his other hand is busy circling, rolling, pressing her clit. She writhes on him and moans, beautiful, trashing on sheets. He could please her like this forever. She comes though, clenching around him and closing her eyes.

“This is the bedroom,” Iwyn say a little later, as they still lie side by side, and she kisses his shoulder.

Solas chuckles.

“So I understand.”

“Across the hall is the bathroom and a guest bedroom. I was going to ask if you’d be more comfortable in the guest bed or sharing with me. I wasn’t going to assume, but now I suppose…”

“I’d prefer to sleep in your bed, Iwyn.”

There is no other place he’d rather be, just now.

“Good. Let’s see how much sleeping we’ll get. I’ve missed you, Solas.” She kisses his shoulder again.

“I’ve missed you too. I’m very happy to see you. To be here.”

They lie in silence a bit, Solas’ hands idly wandering over Iwyn’s body. It’s comfortable and easy. Much easier than he expected, but there is no awkwardness in their nakedness, in simply existing in each other’s space. He simply is in the moment, full of joy.

“Solas,” Iwyn says after a little while longer, “how about dinner? If you want a shower after your trip, feel free to do that while I cook. As I said, the bathroom is across the hallway. We should also bring your luggage all the way in.”

She gets up and stretches a bit and Solas sits up.

“I can help,” he says.

“If you want to? You’re my guest, it’s fine. Or you can come help when you’ve settled in.”

“Thank you.”

Iwyn dresses and kisses him and leaves for the kitchen, while he gets the abandoned luggage. Maybe a shower would be nice.

[moving-accounts-uwu]

Future Stories/Fanfics!

Hiya! I’m new to the whole Tumblr Author scene so please bear with me and be patient! Below is a list of fandoms and characters I write for, as well as themes. I hope to create both original stories and fanfics soon; I also don’t take requests at the moment either! I want to pump out a few stories before I take on requests, and with the few stories I write I’ll finally make a masterlist so you all can stay updated with series or one-shots for fandoms/characters that you love <3 

Here are some fandoms I will write fanfics for:

- Marvel

- Supernatural

- The Walking Dead

- Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit

- Dead by Daylight

- Halloween

- Friday the 13th

- Predator/Yautja

- Aliens/Xenomorphs

- Days Gone

- Far Cry 5

- Knives Out

- Assassin’s Creed

- Resident Evil (2, 3 & 8)

- Call of Duty (Modern Warfare, Ghosts & WWII)

- Final Fantasy (VII, XIII, XIII-2 & XV)

- Detroit: Become Human

- Legend of Zelda

- Horizon: Zero Dawn

- Prey

- Overwatch

- The Witcher

- Until Dawn

- Evolve 

- Dragon Age

- Stranger Things

Characters I Write For:

- Marvel: Steve, Bucky, Clint, Natasha, Pietro, Wanda, Tony, Peter Parker, Thor, Loki, Ultron, Venom

- Supernatural: Sam, Dean

- The Walking Dead: Daryl, Rick, Carl, Glenn, Maggie, Negan, Jesus

- LOTR/Hobbit: Thorin, Fili, Kili, Bilbo, Dwalin, Thranduil, Azog, Elrond, Bard,  Legolas, Aragorn, Frofo, Samwise, Pippin, Merry, Boromir

- Dead by Daylight: Trapper, Wraith, Michael, Huntress, Legion, Ghost Face, Demogorgon, Oni

- Halloween: Michael Myers

- Friday the 13th: Jason Voorhees 

- Predators: Yautja, Ultimate Yautja

- Aliens: Xenomorph

- Days Gone: Deacon, Boozer

- Far Cry 5: Jacob, Joseph, John, Faith, Staci, Eli, Junior Deputy

- Knives Out: Ransom Drysdale 

- Assassin’s Creed: Altair, Malik, Ezio, Connor, Edward, Arno, Kassandra, Alexios, Evie, Jacob, Eivor

- Resident Evil (2, 3 & 8): Leon, Mr X, Jill, Carlos, Nemesis, Karl Heisenberg

- Call of Duty (MW, Ghosts & WWII): Price, MacTavish, Ghost, Roach, Nikolai, Yuri, Zussman, Logan Walker

- Final Fantasy (VII, XIII, XIII-2 & XV): Cloud, Zack, Tifa, Sephiroth, Vincent, Lightning, Hope, Snow, Fang, Vanille, Yuj, Maqui, Noel, Caius

- Detroit: Become Human: Connor, Markus, Kara, Hank, Daniel, Gavin, Luther

- Legend of Zelda: Link, Sidon, Ganon

- Horizon: Zero Dawn: Aloy, Erend, Varl, Avad, Teb

- Prey: Typhon, Phantom, Mimic, Nightmare, Poltergeist, Technopath

- Overwatch: McCree, Reaper, Soldier 76, Hanzo, Reinhardt, Tracer, Widowmaker, Sombre, Mercy, Junkrat, Genji, Baptiste, Orisa, Zarya

- Witcher: Geralt, Ciri, Jaskier

- Until Dawn: Josh, Sam, Mike, Chris, Wendigo

- Evolve: Goliath, Wraith, Kraken, Behemoth, Gorgon

- Dragon Age: Solas, Varric, Iron Bull, Cassandra, Dorian, Sera, Cullen, Hawke, Cole, Vivienne

- Stranger Things: Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove, Eddie Munson, Jonathan Byers, Jim Hopper

What I write:

- Series

- One-shots

- Fluff

- Angst

- Smut

- Romance

- Slow Burns

- Enemies to Lovers/Enemies to Friends to Lovers

- Strangers to Lovers/Strangers to Friends to Lovers

- x Reader

- Original Female & Male Characters

- Polyamorous 

- Hurt/Comfort

- Dub-con/Non-con (stories with these will have warnings!!!)

- Kinks

- Monsters

- Aliens

- Robots

- AU’s

[novamm66]

From Earth to Sky - Chapter Eight

 Happy Friday! That means another chapter of Cass & Varric fluff. 😘😘

--

Varric was desperately trying to think of this situation like it was a story. She will be ok. They will be ok. It can’t end here. He chanted over and over in his head. This was the cliff hanger ending, the moment of pause when the audience worries about their heroes.

Varric had been unable to do anything when the dragon had appeared, but he had a perfect view. Watching seven people plummet into the abyss was the stuff of nightmares. There had been no time to speak the last time he and Cass had seen each other, and now Cassandra’s face was all Varric could think about.

It had been ten hours of waiting and watching the rift left in the courtyard. Demons had stopped coming through from the fade, and the rift had shrunk, but without Kiaya, they couldn’t close it even if they wanted to.

The first break in the waiting came from Cole. He suddenly darted towards the rift to stare intently at its centre.

“Kid?” Varric’s feet had him at Cole’s side instantly, his eyes straining, trying to see through the burning light.

“The same as before, but completely different. One way out but only through.” Cole muttered.

“What does that mean?” Cullen growled from behind them. Varric glanced over his shoulder to reply, but suddenly the rift exploded outward with force, knocking everyone back.

“Hold fire!” Cullen bellowed, preventing anyone from firing blindly at the rift, as three figures leap out of the light.

Solas and Bull were supporting Cassandra between them. They were battered and bleeding from many injuries. The worst being the claw marks down the Seeker’s leg. There was a rush forward to help the three get clear, Solas and Bull sagging the moment Cassandra had support.

“Where is Kiaya? The others?” Cullen’s voice just this side of panic, a feeling echoed in the faces of Bethany and Fenris.

“They were right behind us.” Cassandra gasped as a healer tightened a tourniquet around her thigh.

“Kiaya opened the rift for us. They were supposed to follow us through.” Bull added, grunting as he lowered himself to the ground. Solas immediately started healing Bull, who had dark bruises on his chest, likely from cracked ribs. Solas had dark circles under his eyes, a sign that his mana was overextended.

Cullen whirled around and moved back towards the rift, Cassandra started to try and follow, but Varric pushed her back to the ground. “Easy Seeker, you’re not going anywhere.” The rift pulsed again, and two more people stumbled out; Hawke appeared to be unconscious, Kiaya supporting her, and they hit the ground in a tangle. Before anyone could move, Kiaya’s hand shot out, and the mark connected with the rift. Kiaya screamed with the effort, but it did snap closed.

Hawke jolted awake, her wild eyes searching the courtyard before screaming and lunged at the woman beside her. Fenris pulled Hawke away from Kiaya while Bethany knelt next to Kiaya. Kiaya spoke to Bethany and pressed something into her hand, then Kiaya climbed to her feet.

At that moment, Cassandra shuddered then went completely limp, her head falling to Varric’s shoulder. “Seeker?” Varric said, panic in his voice. He watched the face of the healer, who leaned forward to check her pulse and eyes.

“She’s unconscious, but she will be alright.” The healer returned his attention to her leg and began peeling away the shredded leather. “It’s probably for the best. This is not going to be pleasant.”

Varric did not want to watch the grizzly process, so he looked up again, but all of the action seemed to be over. Kiaya, Cullen and Leliana were gone. The Hawke sisters were settling together against a wall with Fenris standing watch over them.

“Go. We got ‘er.” Sera appeared beside him, elbowing him over as she supported Cassandra’s head. “Go, you ninny.” She insisted when Varric didn’t immediately respond.

“Cassandra will be fine,” Solas said, answering Varric’s unasked question. That gave Varric the last push to let Cassandra go and climb to his feet.

It was one of the most extended walks of his life. When he reached them, he knelt next to Bethany and Hawke, wrapped both in his arms, and they grieved together.

—

The journey back to Skyhold was a grim one. While they had technically won the battle, the losses had been higher than expected. Those that had fallen into the fade with Kiaya were badly shaken by the experience. Cassandra’s sleep was plagued by nightmares, and she was grieving for the Divine all over again. Varric had rarely left her side. He helped her while her leg healed and held her when she woke up in the night with tears rolling down her face.

Cass was a little surprised that Varric had disappeared just before they arrived back at Skyhold. It was getting dark, and it was raining, a cold drizzle that leaked down your collar. No one was lingering in the courtyards, so Cassandra decided that her first goal was a bath to warm her and to remove the grime of travel.

Cassandra didn’t linger in the busy bathing room when she was done. It had been the right choice. She felt better now that she was clean. She was debating with herself if food or sleep was the next order of business, and she walked into the door of her room when it didn’t open. It was latched from the inside, and she heard a muffled curse when she banged into it.

“Who is in there?” Cassandra demanded, outraged that anyone would enter her room without permission.

There were a few thumps before she heard the bolt slide clear, and Varric’s face appeared as he opened the door. “It’s just me. You were faster than I thought.”

“What are you doing, Varric?” Cassandra eyed him suspiciously. “You had better let me in because I am not waiting in the hall outside my own room.”

Varric laughed and swung the door fully open. A fire was burning in the hearth, and there was a basket on the table. Varric had also washed and changed, his hair still damp, gleaming a deep gold. “We have been going non-stop, and I wanted to give you a nice evening now we are back.” He took her hand, pulling her into the room before shutting the door. “Are you hungry? I have no idea what we are eating. Chimes and Ruffles packed it for me.”

“I am glad I don’t have to brave the kitchens.” Cassandra hung up her towel and placed her soiled clothes in a sack before crossing to the small table. They unpacked the basket together, and the two of them enjoyed the wine, cheese, meat, and fruit they had found. It was a welcome change from the hardtack that had been the army’s staple for weeks—the conversation flowing between them as smoothly as water. Varric could draw Cass out of herself like no one else, and the comfort she found when around him was intoxicating.

Cassandra was full and happy as she leaned back in her chair. It was turning into an almost perfect evening. “I have something for you,” Varric said, reaching into a pocket. “I didn’t know when it would get here, but as luck would have it, it turned up while we were away. I hope it’s alright.” He looked nervous as he handed her a small, white cotton package wrapped in black ribbon.

The bow pulled away quickly under Cassandra’s fingers, the wrapping falling away. The ribbon was attached to a pendent of the most delicate work Cassandra had ever seen. A blackbird in flight, carved from dark wood, and backed by a ring of wild rose vines and flowers, craved from an iridescent stone.

Cassandra gasped. “It's beautiful.” She looked at him. “Did you make this?”

Varric snorted. “Thanks for the thought, but no. My art is with words. Kiaya helped me draw it out, and a friend did the carving. I thought it might keep the memories of your family close.” Happy tears welled in Cassandra’s eyes. Varric stood and circled the table. “Cassandra, I don’t know what our future holds, but I am certain that I want to spend every moment I can with you.”

Cassandra couldn’t find the words to answer, so she tied the ribbon around her neck and kissed him with everything she felt.

It was the need for breath that pulled them apart, but only a little. Cassandra bumped her nose to his. “No interruptions this time?” She teased.

“Not if they know what’s good for them,” Varric growled, causing Cassandra to shiver as she laughed. Their lips met again, and time disappeared into hot hands and wild kisses.

---

 Thanks for reading! I am always open to chatting.

[inquisimer]

this dadwc friday I come for fluff PLEASE SJHGKFJGHFGH and the prompt "kissing their lover’s knuckles" for solas/lavellan? 🥺

dusts off this solavellan prompt from....a while ago it's sort of fluffy??? but c'mon bb, it's solavellan

for @dadrunkwriting

~~~

The Winter Palace is aglow with Orlais’ best decorations and their gaudiest patrons, but nothing holds a candle to the Inquisitor.

She positively sparkles. The dress she contrived with the Ambassador and Madame de Fer falls in sheets of silk and magic, though Solas doubts any of her admirers in their pastry-like attire appreciate it for what it truly is. It is a shade of what she should be, what she would be, if not for his interference.

She is busy. There is espionage afoot between many factions, his own people among them. They do not approach him directly, but he knows who they are, notices how they fail to bow to him as they bow to every other patron in his vicinity. Any observer, should they be oddly inclined to note the behavior of so many elves, would simply assume the servants thought him one of their own. But Fen’Harel knows, and he holds their loyalty to his chest like gold.

Let none be beholden but by choice.

He shifts his feet slightly, adjusting his posture against the stone column, and suddenly she is before him, resplendent in her glory and flushed from both the wine Vivienne has pressed upon her and the partner who has just whirled her across the floor.

“Solas,” she stage whispers, eyes alight as he failed to expect. “Isn’t is fabulous?”

His eyes linger over her, from her ankles strapped up in golden heels, to the fabric that clings at every dip and curve, to the braids and curls that have tamed her usually wild hair. The torchlight catches the freshly shaved side of her head; it catches the dark lines of her vallaslin, too, but he is adept at looking past them now. He holds her violet eyes with his own, deep and solemn, and knows she can see the trickery flickering behind it all.

“I do adore the heady blend of power, intrigue, danger and sex that permeates these events,”  he says, hiding a smile in his wine glass. He’s had more than is advisable, perhaps, but there are few joys in this sundered world and he finds that Antivan wine is one of them, especially when one has just cause to celebrate.

And he certainly does, what with the key to Briala’s network nestled safely in his mind.

Irosyl leans closer and suddenly his senses are filled with her lavender perfume, the elfroot he knows she adept at sneaking past even the Spymaster, the gently zing of mana that says she has been recently casting. She cups his face with one hand, one long, lithe finger tracing his ear with a caress so gentle. His breath catches and for a moment he forgets his walls.

“Save me a dance, vhenan?” she ghosts over his lips.

His heart stutters and before he can stop it, his mind puts her in Mythal’s ballroom, the centermost of the dancers, draped in light and mana and glory and wrapped up in his arms, the envy of the Evanuris. They dance a dance forgotten to time and it goes on for longer than anyone cares to track, because they have forever and a day.

Except they don’t.

His fantasy shatters around him and he surges forward, closing the distance between their lips so she will not notice the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.

“I will not give that to them,” he says when they break apart. “I will not give them us.”

She looks crestfallen for a moment and he almost wavers, almost casts aside his hat to sweep her away to the shame of these shems. But she is a master of sealing the cracks and she draws herself up in the face of his refusal with an understanding, if somewhat bitter smile.

“Ar lath ma,” she reminds him. Even here, in the heart of Orlais, in this next of vipers. Ar lath ma. They cannot take that away.

He catches Irosyl’s wrist as she turns away, off to see to what intel the Spymaster has gathered. She pauses at the gentle pressure of his hand, turns back as his lithe fingers sip down to cradle hers and he brings her knuckles to his lips. They are spit-slick and swollen from her attentions still as he brushes them across her hand.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan,” he echoes.

He wishes it was not true.

[xoperidottea]

Escapist Tags

While everyone is cooped up, let’s share some of our favorite distractions. Bonus points for answers that involve things that are free and/or commonly found at home.-- I was tagged by the lovely @risingphoenix761, but since the original post got really long I decided to make a new one haha

🎬- Movie/TV/YouTube:  So I’m actually really scheduled with this haha, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday I watch new episode of Try Channel on YouTube, and every Tuesday and Friday new episodes of How to Drink. As for movies/TV/Netflix it really just depends on my mood

🧶- Craft/Hobby: So I really love story-writing and used to be huge into art (fun fact- I was accepted into MICA). However, lately I tend to do lots of fan fiction writing and am slowly drifting back into my graphic novels, which involve a huge degree of world-building, which I LOVE! I also play a lot of video games (ie- Stardew Valley, DAI, and soon Animal Crossing:New Horizons)

📖- Story: I’ve been mostly reading fan fiction lately, preferring fluff and smangst. I dp have a long reading list that I should probably get around to while I’m stuck at home...

🍲- Recipe/Snack: Nothing in particular although I have been trying to be healthier. Definitely lots of wine XD

🏋️‍♀️- Exercise: So, I literally JUST bought and assembled a foldable exercise bike from Amazon and I already love it! It was on sale for $149 and omg is it worth it. doesn’t take up too much space and I get to enjoy not being in a gym!!

🎲- Game: Stardew Valley is definitely a bingeable game IMO. I have wasted so many hours on it and designing my farm to be just the way I want it.  However, I also really love DAI (Dragon Age: Inquisition) and, if I could afford a gaming computer, would be spending all my time right now putzing around with mods... Including giving Solas some damn hair

🎧- Music: There’s a couple lofi hip-hop playlists I’ve been binging while working as well as the entire Queens of the Stone Age collection on Spotify.  I also have a separate playlist for my fan fiction inspiration that I need to split up into 2 or 3 individual lists. But by far, my favorite songs are Saltwater by Geowulf, Maybe I’m Afraid by Lovelytheband (yes that is how their name is), and Not Today by Twenty-One Pilots

🎨- Art: I’m starting to dabble in graphic design and digital art in preparation for working on my graphic novel soon, but I’ve also been starting to do fan fiction/fan art banners

🏖- De-stressor: lofi hip-hop has been a godsend, not gonna lie. But also just letting myself relax on the couch and (believe it or not) binging Anthony Bourdain has helped. Meditation and yoga are big, big helpers for me as well

Tagged: @dean-winchesters-bacon @princessmisery666 @impala-dreamer @wingedcatninja @negans-lucille-tblr @idreamofplaid @fangirlxwritesx67 and anyone else that wants to play who I missed! (sorry if you’ve been tagged multiple times already)

You know the drill: answer and tag.

[crackinglamb]

Chapters: 85/100 Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas Characters: Rogue Lavellan, Fen'Harel | Solas, Cassandra Pentaghast, Leliana (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras, The Iron Bull (Dragon Age), Lace Harding, Cullen Rutherford, Corypheus (Dragon Age), Dorian Pavus, Cole (Dragon Age), Female Hawke (Dragon Age), Morrigan (Dragon Age), Kieran (Dragon Age), Abelas (Dragon Age), Flemeth | Mythal (Dragon Age), Josephine Montilyet, Original Elven Characters Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Modern Girl in Thedas, Canon-Typical Violence, if canon does not spark joy, It Shall Be Yeeted, Inky is Full of Snark and Spoilers, Swearing, Romance, Arguing, Slow Burn, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Aware Idiots to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, This Wolf Likes to Bite, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Happy Ending Dammit!, Tevinter Nights Spoilers as of Chapter 57, Background Relationships Series: Part 1 of Til It Squeaks: A Modern Girl's Take on Thedas Summary:

Carly Mayers has landed in Thedas after an experiment gone wrong. She has no idea how it happened, and no way home. She's stuck in a Lavellan body, the Anchor in one hand and a bow in the other, and has to survive all the events of the game for real. Hopefully without giving away her secret to everyone she meets.

But she knows none of that matters. She knows what's really coming for Thedas after the game is over.

Can she possibly change his mind and save the world, along with everyone in it - including him?

  Updates on Tuesday and Friday. Beta'd by Iron_Angel. NSFW chapters will be marked for your convenience (I try to keep them plotless).