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Well-Read

You love to read. It’s your favorite thing in the whole world. Yondu hates to read but his favorite thing in the world is you. Thanks @socktrollqueen for looking over this for me. Like this story? Reblog it or leave a tip!

“Kraglin, I’ve gots a question for ya.”

“Sir?’

“How come I can git just about any woman in mah bed except for Y/N?”

“It’s simple Cap. She’s well-read.”

Yondu sighed as he leaned against the wall. As always, you were completely oblivious to the Captain’s gaze. As usual, after a successful mission, you would go the planet that held your favorite store. It was a special bookstore that specialized in books from Terra. Normally, you came here alone. The other Ravagers weren’t big on reading. In fact, you were pretty sure some of them couldn’t read at all. But that was okay. More books for you.

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TumblrFrostbite's Questions: What are your thoughts on Pre-Serum Injected Rose Wilson? And what would Post-Serum Injected Rose Wilson's reactions be if she accidentally time traveled into the past and soon saw her past self spending time with Slade a little?

I adore pre-serum Rose Wilson. She was so wide-eyed and innocent. She had so much potential and faith in the world, even after it was revealed who the monster that sired her was. 

I think post-serum Rose would have very little tolerance for pre-serum Rose. She undergoes a massive personality shift, with the horrors that Slade put her through and the general hardness of her life. Any affection she saw her former self waste on Slade would be like a hard reminder of what she could have had, and I think the pain of that would lead her to a violent overreaction, or at least some nasty sarcastic commentary.

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For the song title prompt, "I love a rainy night" with Merle?

Crazy Blue Eyes (Merle/Female reader)

This was supposed to be a drabble, dammit! It’s seven freaking pages of sex, drama, romance, angst, and country music. It pushes the reader insert conceit to the limits, I think. Crazy Blue Eyes is actually a Lacy J. Dalton song.

The scene in Denny’s is partly based on an idea from @faeylinn

I learned the meaning of Merle’s name from @thereadingpal

You’re leaving out the back door of the ransacked clinic when you almost run right into them: two men and a woman. You draw your gun quickly, pointing it at the torso of the man closest to you. He grins and says, “Hey, Mornin’ Glory. Long time, no see.”

Oh, hell. You move your gun hand, aiming at his crotch.

“I see you’ve met Merle,” the blonde woman said dryly.

“Used to be married to him,” you say.

……………..

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Can I request my silly rarepair for the three-sentence AU? Varric and Bethany, maybe a bookstore AU?

I had to do a little bit of research for this one, because I’ve only even played a mage in DA2…perhaps I should work on that…. but…here goes nothing!

She’s beautiful, brunette, and has legs Andraste herself would blaze for, so Varric can’t help himself but approach the radiant woman as she idly flips through a terrible book. “I’d skip that one, Sunshine,” he says thumbing the racks of books beside her, “the author is full of shit and the romance is trite at best.”

She grins at him, closing the book in a way that proudly displays his ugly mug printed on the back cover, and says, “I think the author is far better than he gives himself credit. He happens to be my favorite, so I’d prefer it if you didn’t speak ill of him. In fact, I’ve always wanted to meet him, then I could pepper him with questions about how he comes up with these stories.” 

Her words fall kindly on his ears as she sits at a nearby table and waits for him to join her - he can’t help it, like moth to flame, he sits in her light.

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Prayers of the Avvar (NSFW)

A smutty Avvar!Cullen one-shot, because inspiration struck. Enjoy! Rated M!

—

“Pick a god and pray,” he rasped in her ear, his stubbled beard abrading the sensitive skin of her neck. “I’m going to fuck you like a sacrifice, lass.”

Elena shivered, his words burning hot down her spine, and coiling tight between her legs. She felt Cullen moving behind her, positioning his big body around her, muscular legs wide so that her bottom nestled against his stiff cock. The feeling of him, hot and hard and sliding against her made her tremble in anticipation, made moisture pool between her legs.

The room around them was heavy with the scent of incense and smoke, prepared for the ritual, for the first time the new Thane took his woman to the great bed of the hold. The fire in the hearth burned hot, casting high shadows against the wooden walls. Just beyond the doors, she could hear the entire hold feasting and celebrating in the Thane’s hall. The room, however, was empty save for them, a courtesy to her lowlander sensibilities. 

A small part of her wished he would have let the elders watch.

Cullen tugged on the ropes binding her wrists above her head, checking that it would hold. Satisfied, he skimmed his big, calloused hands down her arms, cupped her breasts, before wrapping them tight around her ribs. Her anticipation for him, fell heavy around them, each little touch of skin to skin wildly erotic.

Suddenly, he moved, pulling her close, and surging forward, his cock breaching her tight wet heat in one swift thrust. Elena gasped as pleasure seared her body, crashing over her. She arched back, trying to move further down his shaft, but her bindings held firm. 

“That’s it, woman, give yourself to me,” he groaned, one hand drifting down to grasp her hip. 

His cock was big and thick and wedged inside of her as he pounded her from behind. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could barely breath. Helpless and at his mercy, all Elena could do was hold on to her bindings as her fierce Avvar lover took her.  Each thrust was a point of hot, white pleasure deep inside of her, each retreat a drag of fire against her aching center. She knew she was supposed to be praying–praying for rain, and wheat, and dark fertile earth, but she could only, only, feel Cullen’s hands stroking her belly, fondling her breasts, his cock buried deep inside of her. 

“I pray to the Mountain Father, for strength to keep my hold safe for this woman,” he gasped, his words ragged as he worked harder, faster against her. “I pray to Hakkon that she warms me with her body when the cold winds blow. I pay to the Lady that as our gardens fill with fruit, her belly fills with my child.”

Elena couldn’t stop the moans from spilling from her lips at his words. She canted her hips, working his cock until it rubbed just the right spot. She looked down, heat flushing through her at the lewd sight of her breast jutting forward, at her legs spread and his cock spearing her from behind. 

One big hand tangled in her hair, tugging her attention. “Pray, lass. I need you to pray.”

She licked her lips, trying to catch her breath as each powerful thrust jarred her very bones with pleasure. His hand moved from her hair to wrap around her throat, holding, but not squeezing. 

“Pray, Elena.”

“Maker!” She gasped as he tweaked one of her nipples. “Maker, keep this man safe, and strong, and oh, fuck, Cullen!” 

It was so hard to go on as he fucked her deep and hard. Each thrust building her pleasure, up and up, until–

“FUCK!”

Her back bowed, desire crashed over her in tidal wave of need, higher and higher until light exploded behind her eyes. 

“Fuck! Cullen, Maker! Fuck!” She screamed, coming hard and fast, clenching around his shaft. 

“Mercy, woman,” he ground out, his thrusts growing erratic, harder, needy, until he finally seated himself deep inside of her, arching into her, and bellowed to the rafters as he came. 

She slumped forward, held up only by her ropes, utterly spent. Cullen’s hot breath came in jagged gasps against her neck, tickling her and sending little aftershocks of pleasure dancing down her back. His sweat slicked body leaning against her, giving her his weight. 

After a moment he straightened up and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. Cutting her ropes, he slowly lowered her arms, rubbing the blood back to her joints. 

“I didn’t quite do that right, did I?” she asked, letting herself collapse into his strong body.

Cullen chuckled and pulled her into his arms. “It’s alright, lass. I like you screaming to your god for me to fuck you.”

___

Comments, Likes, and Reblogs always appreciated!

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For DWC: Porn, either love-making or leg-cramping, sweaty sex. Eyes meeting across the Great Hall of Skyhold, electricity in the air and need in the lungs.

Hurrah for porn! Okay, because canonically Lyna and Solas don’t do the do until pretty late in the game, this is technically an AU. A very smutty AU.

A Moment of Weakness

(aka Solas is a dick to clothes!)

NSFW under the cut, obviously. Porn prompt is smutty. Who knew!

For @dadrunkwriting

Lyna sat upon her throne, the seat she hated most in all of Skyhold, but Solas thought she looked like a goddess if ever one existed. Though she wore simple clothes, a loose and long gown of moss green whose sleeves began low on her shoulders and hugged her strong and slender arms to her wrists, she may as well have been bedecked in the attire of an empress for the awe she inspired. She wore no jewelry and no shoes, her bare toes just visible peeking past the hem of her skirt.

As Solas watched, she smiled with wry humor at the Avvar leader who stood chained and bound before her. Though the man joked continuously his posture was respectful and he offered no insult.

“Chief Movran,” Lyna declared at last, crossing her legs gracefully, “I banish you and your clan with as many weapons as you can carry to Tevinter.” She smiled at her own joke and elsewhere in the hall Solas heard Dorian chuckling.

“My idiot son got us something after all,” the Avvar man said, laughing loudly as his chains were removed. Once he stood free he bowed with surprising grace and flourish to Lyna. “A wonderful game from a beautiful woman,” he declared before he backed respectfully away and left.

As the gathered crowd began to disperse at last, Lyna looked up and her eyes unerring met his. Solas felt his breath catch in his lungs at the pure desire in her gaze. Before he even knew what he was doing, Solas found himself striding across the hall to her. She stood from her throne and casually moved toward the door that led up to her rooms, her eyes never leaving his. He could drown in the violet depths that captured him, could burn in the electricity that sparked between them whenever their eyes met, and he would do so gladly and without remorse.

She turned from him with a smile to open the door she lingered in front of and disappear within. He didn’t hesitate to follow her retreating footsteps and the hem of her lovely green dress up the stairs of the tower.

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Harmless Looking(Merle/Reader (gender neutral)

This is for the drunken apartment break-in request. Short, mildly smutty.

“Shit. My key don’t work,” you say to yourself. You blink, trying to make the two keyholes that you’re seeing meld into one. “Screw it.” You toss your keys behind you, then walk down the hall to the back door.

Your apartment is one of two above a car insurance agent who specializes in coverage for people with DUI convictions. The hall starts at the front stairway, completely separates the two units, and leads to a back door. Beyond the back door is a roomy but rickety-looking deck that you have to share with your neighbor and his motorcycle. You want to ask your neighbor how he got the motorcycle up there, but you’ve never actually seen him yet. You’ve heard him in the hall a few times. He’s kind of mouthy.

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A Shakarian Christmas Carol, Part 3

{Okay, finally got the next chapter of this up. Things got crazy, and I hit a bit of a weird place mentally so I wasn’t able to finish it as quickly as I hoped. Part one is here and Part 2 is here.}

He awoke in the midst of a prodigiously loud snore, and a sense of unease settled over him immediately. Checking the display on his Omnitool again, he noted the displayed time was just before one o'clock. Cursing softly under his breath, he shut it down. Definitely needed calibrating. He settled back in the bed, eyes warily searching the room. He didn't believe in ghosts, not even a little bit, but it was best to be prepared just in case. One o'clock passed, the quarter hour passed, and he began to be more and more convinced that he had dreamed it all. Too much horosk too late at night. That was all this was.

That was all it was, of course, until he noticed a pale light from under the door that separated his sleeping quarters from the main room. Suspicious, he slid from beneath the cover, stooping to pick up his Banshee VI before shuffling to the door. As his hand hovered over the pad to open it, a far-too-familiar voice, full of cheer, called out. "You're not going to shoot me, just come on in."

Gun hanging loosely from his hand now, he entered the room, so much of the fight had gone out of him. He risked a glance at the ghost, but looked away before he made eye contact. The figure was bound in bandages, beyond recognition, but how could he forget that voice? He couldn't bare to see her eyes under all those bandages, spectral, not all there. To have this be the spectre haunting his night, it was almost crueler than he could bear.

The ghostly figure bound in bandages stood, crossing the room to stand by him. "Can you not even look at me? Where is the clever Turian agent, the one who used to brag about his reach and flexibility? He would have met my eyes without fear."

Garrus steeled himself, meeting the ghost's eyes. There they were. Shepard's eyes, the same eyes the Spectral Child had used. His claws tightened on the gun, raising it slightly. "I assume you've come here to show me something, get on with it. I'd rather it be over than have to continue seeing her eyes in that mess."

Laughing, the second ghost stepped even closer, invading his personal space, but Vakarian didn't back down. There was still some steel left in the washed up drunkard. The ghost offered an arm, one bandage trailing from the rest. "Then take hold of my bandage." The former C-Sec officer did as he was told, and held it fast. The squalor of the room faded around them, vanishing into blackness. A warm light began to glow at their feet, until an image of sand and heat swept across the dark expanse. A breeze devoid of even the slightest hint of moisture scraped across his mandibles, drying him out in a heartbeat.

The ghost strode forward, not looking back to ensure it was being followed. Of course, Garrus kept pace as best he could. That was what he always did. They crossed the sands, coming to a place that was more rock than anything else. Even that dropped away ahead of them, the ground emptying out into a deep, hollow bowl. In the bowl were a bunch of Krogans, they formed a chanting circle around two that appeared locked in a dominance battle. Between breaths they were down on the ground, close enough to see every scar on the two Krogan's face.

"Wrex..." Vakarian stepped forward, but the ghost with Shepard's voice grasped his arm, holding him back. The two mighty warriors clashed... massive jaws snapping at one another's throats. The other Krogan produced a blade out of no where, a clear violation of the rules, and jabbed it between the plates of Wrex's armor. His friend went down and Garrus called his name again, with more worry and concern. As he stepped forward, Tuchanka disappeared. He swung on the spirit. "We have to go back! Make sure he's okay. Why would you show me that and not let me help?"

The spirit laughed, a hearty, cheerful sound that seemed so incongruous with what they just witnessed. "What does it matter to you? It's not at the bottom of a bottle after all."

Garrus wanted to argue with the spirit, but... well it wasn't wrong. Frowning he watched his feet as he followed the figure. The grey metal floors past silently underfoot, and his ghostly guide didn't speak. He stopped, suddenly looking around. "I don't... where are we?" The gleaming hallways were mostly empty, the odd human wandering through them. He didn't recognize this place at all.

The spirit laughed again. "We are at our last destination, before I return you to your lonely bed. Just through her, Vakarian." Turning the corner the spectral figure walked right through a door. The Turian hesitated to follow, sudden concern striking him immobile. If he could walk through the door, did that mean he was dead too? He wasn't a ghost. A bandaged hand reached through the closed portal, grasping his forearm and dragging him through.

Before them were a group of humans, backs to the incorporeal pair. They hovered around an operating table. A woman with a heavy accent seemed to be in charge, barking orders as a man muttered stats in a concerned voice. "Reacting to outside stimuli. Demonstrating awareness of her surroundings. My God, Miranda. I think she's waking up!"

The female strode forward, examining whomever was on the table. "Damnit Wilson, she's not ready yet! Give her the seditive!"

Garrus moved forward, trying to get a better look at whomever was on the table, but as he did he stumbled, hitting his shins on the chair in his own quarters. Head whipping around he searched for the spirit, but it seemed to be gone. "Who was it? Who was on the table?!?!?" It was like shouting into the abyss, there was no response. Garrus paced the room, mind alive and full of concerns. These ghosts were getting more and more concerning. Finally, no closer to an answer, and with no further guests responding to his angry shouts, he went back into the other room, lying down and hoping to reclaim his disturbed sleep.

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‘Ma’las - chapter 1

Rating: teen & up Pairing: Solas + Rift mage female Lavellan Warnings: post-trespasser, Game Spoilers, Trespasser Spoilers, Minor canon divergence, Sappy eventually happy, Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-it Lavellan, Mention/memories of abusive cultures, Copious amounts of sap Credits/thanks: to fenxshiral for Project Elvhen

[Read on AO3]

“What are you doing?” Samahla frowned, breathless from the kiss she had spent two years yearning for, and pushed his chest away, snapping her left arm away from his grasp.

The arm he had been pressing and had started to pull.

“I…” Solas had pain in his eyes, the look of a man who feels he must do something horrible to avoid an even worse end. She suspected it was definitely not the first time that look graced his face. “I must remove it. The anchor, your arm.”

“What?” he winced at her shriek. When it came to demonstrating emotions, she was quite his opposite, hardly ever hiding anything. “You want to rip my arm off? Are you out of your freaking mind?”

“It is killing you, vhen-”

“Don’t you vhenan me now, Solas, I swear I will punt y-” her anger was interrupted by another flash of pain from her hand, and she scowled when her pride wasn’t enough to hold back the loud sound it brought from her throat.

It was killing her. Spreading through her, a power that had invaded her body and that seemed to have remained harmless only by luck until now. Until she had to prance around locations that must have resonated to the power, been familiar to it. Been its home. Her body wasn’t home to it. It would rip her very core in the attempt to leave, it seemed.

But the source of such energy seemed to no longer be home to it anymore, either; otherwise her former lover would have been able to take it without taking a chunk of herself along.

“No. Absolutely not. I need both arms, mind you. I’ll find another way.”

“It has been two years, vhen - Lavellan. You have not found a way.”

“It didn’t feel like it was killing me before. It was dormant, it…”

“It had not awakened in power like it has now. It-” his attempts at understanding the anchor of his own power were interrupted by another scream from her pain, followed by the grief that was now plain on his face. “Samahla, please. I would not allow my own mistakes to kill you.” And then a whisper, a plea, “please.”

He knew the stubbornness in her features before she even tried to reply. She wouldn’t step back. He swallowed, looking down, thinking. She would die believing she could solve this some other way, some nonexistent way.

“Allow me to… at least soothe it temporarily. Like I did when you arrived. I may be able to make it harmless for a time.”

“Do it.” She didn’t even hesitate, and he was struck, again, by her trust in him. As if he wasn’t ultimately the source of all her problems for the past nearly five years, almost causing her death then and again now.

He breathed deeply, and she observed as the eyes she used to love - still loved, damn her idiot heart - looked again like lightning, his call upon the green energy in her forcing it to sleep again, to feel harmless again.

For a time, she reminded herself.

With the weight of a world on his shoulders, Solas turned to leave. He hesitated, stopped.

“I will never forget you.” His voice was heavy, pained, and again she couldn’t fathom why he wouldn’t simply let her walk this path with him.

You won’t forget me, even if I have to keep reminding you of me, she decided in the privacy of her mind.

  ———————

  She was so forgetful.

It felt odd to him, how she was always so eager to learn, so quick to learn, and yet would forget the simplest things. The everyday things, her appointments, a new recruit’s name or origin, where she left something - once she forgot if she even had eaten lunch that day. It was so common, so expected, that she would forget everything, that it was always a surprise to see the things she did remember.

Small gestures. The glint in a friend’s eyes. Entire conversations taken idly in journeys, not even concerning her, but she would always be listening. Once he bantered with Blackwall about the past of Val Royeaux’ markets, and why he preferred them now, and Samahla appeared days later with a box full of tiny frilly cakes for him simply because he mentioned enjoying them

She had a way of using the memory of those chats to trap him in a corner, too.

“I must save the elven people, even if it means this world must die.”

“Once you told Cassandra that your belief is in the inherent right of all free willed people to exist.”

He had eyed her, speechless for a moment. So he truly had said.

“Do you believe I am not free willed? Or all the people you have met since we formed the Inquisition? Do they, do we deserve to die with this world, Solas?”

Even now, remembering the conversation played before he had to walk away from her again, leaving her still plagued by his mark consuming her from inside, he still didn’t know what to make of her questioning. He had said he hoped she would change his heart, and was beginning to suspect she could be able to. Even when he was so sure of the path he had to walk. She was already starting to untie the little knots, defy his reasoning, show him his mistakes.

She will haunt my dreams, and every decision I make, and every step I take, I will think of her. It wasn’t a stretch to admit it. One conversation after two years of absence and she was already creeping at the corners of his resolve and certainty.

I will never forget you, his mind repeated alone, while the depths of his heart hoped he would not have the opportunity to try for long. [Go to Next chapter]

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The cycle of Gods

Sin rounded the craggy stone ridge and stumbled to a stop before the body of a dying dragon. The enormous golden beast lay on its side, sharp, broken ribs protrouding through the flesh of its huge, labouring chest. The monstrosity was vaguely Saurian in shape, with unnaturally large limbs, and folded, tattered wingsthat sprouted from stocky shoulders. Its eyes were deep red gems that glowed from within with a the same fire that it had likely been spewing up until recently. They faded before his gaze, dimming to a dead, empty ruby.

Even after all those centuries, seeing a Draconid up close made Sin shudder. The beast’s fangs were as long as he was tall. He’d died to fangs like those before, and it hadn’t been enjoyable.

Of course, dying so rarely was.

He rounded the creature, picking his way carefully across the battlefield. The plain was a place of misshapen rock and stone, natural pillars rising around him, bodies littering the ground. Little plant life remained here, upon the scorched earth.

Many of the bodies around him were human, many were not. Blood mixed. Red. Orange. Violet. Green. Though none of the bodies around him stirred, thankfully, an indistinct fog of sounds hung heavy in the air. Moans of pain, groans of grief. They did not sound like the sounds of success, the sounds of victory. Smoke curled from occasional patches of dead growth, or stacked heaps of smouldering corpses, even some sections of rock reeked. The Duskbringers had done their job splendidly well.

But I survived, Sin thought, hand pressed against his breast as he hastened towards his destination. I actually survived this time.

That was dangerous. When he died, he was sent back, no two ways about the matter. When he survived the Desolation, he was supposed to go back as well. Back to that place that he still dreaded. Back to that place of pain, back to that place of fire. What if he just decided… not to go back?

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Another concept for my Ace fic that I didn’t use. Decided to switch it up and take out the Solavellan and give it a party banter context so Solas could have this conversation with anyone.

Tagging again: @princessdreadwolf, @ellstersmash, @adventuresinastrangeworld, @accidental-apostate @dragonageaspecweek

“No sex?” says Sera with a giggle. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Cassandra and I find fun in other ways,” explains the Inquisitor.

Sera blows a raspberry. “Sans bumpy bits.”

“The Qunari have a word for people like you, Boss,” says The Iron Bull. “Masari.”

Solas scoffs.

“Got a problem, mage?” asks Bull.

“Masari,” he says. “It means ‘those without desire.’”

“Yeah. What of it?”

“Inquisitor, if I may?” asks Solas. “You have dreams, do you not? Aspirations? You want the Inquisition to succeed. You want to see your family again. One day, you’d like children of your own. And when you tell them your story, you want to be able to look back on what’s to come and say you have no regrets. And when you look at Cassandra, do you not want her in your own way?”

Heat rises in the Inquisitor’s cheeks. “I…”

“Would you say you are without desire?”

“Well…” The Inquisitor rubs the back of his neck, “When you put it that way.”

“The ancient elven had a word, ar’vhen, meaning, ‘of one’s self.’”

“Ar’vhen,” the Inquisitor repeats.

“In a spiritual sense,” Solas explains. “It means a way of knowing and being beyond the physical. You may not desire sex, but you can experience intimacy in ways that are just as profound.”

“Shit,” Bull mutters, just loud enough for everyone to hear. “That does sound better.”

“Pfft! No, it doesn’t,” says Sera. “Boring. It sounds boring.”

“Cassandra and I don’t find it boring at all, Sera.”

“Of course, not!” she says. “You’re masa… arvey… whatever.”

Solas sighs.

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Zevwarden Week - 3

The ceremony after the landsmeet

Leverette fidgeted with the hem of his shirt and jammed his hands in the pockets of his trousers to stop himself. Blood rushed to his face and he let out a long breath, watching magic curl out of his mouth in a roll of fog to cool himself. The room knew he was uncomfortable without the tell-tale patches on his cheeks.

He could handle the crowd. He’d been leading an army, as patched together as it was, for nearly a year. He’d gathered together half a dozen races to march with him - whether with intention or accidental coincidence on Levy’s part - and kept them in line behind him. The townsfolk though him some sort of powerful monster. One look from him was all the command any of them needed to follow his order. He could stand tall and calm and win the room.

He could not handle his outfit.

How was the champion of the Blight to dress? Draped in the skin of his quarry? Robed in the finest silks? It might have helped his image more than the pieced together outfit he displayed.

The Wardens were stretched far and few between after the attack on Ostagar. Much was lost to dragon fire and Blight sickness. The outposts left in Fereldan were either too collapsed to safely search, or overrun. His own tabard was scorched and scratched into nothing but scraps. Levy had no official uniform to present himself in, but the Arl of Denerim did his best.

He could forgive the Arl’s oversight about his wardrobe. He was a mage, and while he’d filled out somewhat in the past year, the thin armor plates encircling his shoulders made him ache. Leather provided some relief beneath it, and a long leather glove reached up to meet it on his non-dominant hand. The tunic beneath was Warden blue, tucked into dark grey pants, puffing out where they were tucked into high boots. A hastily patched griffion was sewn on each hip, and flashed silver when he turned, though they were hidden for now by the long coat strapped around his neck. He could feel the pin press against the hollow of his throat with every breath, silver fox f fur ticking the skin there. It hung down to the back of his knees.

It certainly wasn’t his Warden ensemble, but it was Warden colored. At least none would mistake his position.

Alistair, at least, had little problem finding something presentable. He needed only a suit of armor large enough to fit him, and an etching of the insignia on the breast plate. He stood off to the side, just behind him, in front of Morrigan, Lelianna, and Zevran.

Maker, what was Zevran wearing?

Had he gone into the Arl’s personal drawers for the dark poet shirt draped over his thin frame. Green gems carefully etched out the edges of the shirt, hidden where buckles and belts held the sleeves in place. A sash of gold kept it cinched around his waist, before flowing freely once more over a pair of tight black pants. The elf’s hair was up in a tight braid, and there was a stone in one ear. Zevran’s smile was slow and wide when he caught Levy taking the outfit in.

“Do you like what you see?” Zevran ran his hands down his sides to settle them low on his hips.

“I’m a bit nervous, actually.”

The elf raised a brow. “Oh?”

“Who’s closet did you raid to find those?”

Zevran laughed. “Mine. No other would have a fashion such as myself. It would be nothing but rude to myself if I let another dress me.” Levy looked himself over and frowned. Zevran clicked his tongue. “It is not the worst I’ve seen you wear. We can find something later.”

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Roksy’s Fanfiction | Master Post

Welcome to my fanfiction master post! 

This is a comprehensive list of all my fanfiction with links to AO3 and Tumblr (where available). It also includes my updated non-Dragon Age work and my future fanfiction plans. I will update this list every Sunday to include new chapters and one-shots/prompts.

Dragon Age Long Fics

The Warden’s Rose | Dragon Age: Origins.

Rating: Explicit. Word Count: 36,183; 10 chapters. Status: Complete. Pairing: Alistair Theirin/Rokara (Theirin). Characters: Alistair Theirin, Rokara (OC), Wynne, Shale, Bhelen Aeducan. Tags: Fluff, Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Mage Elf, Mage Origin, Circle Tower, The Deep Roads, Major Original Character(s), Post-Dragon Age: Origins, Sexual Tension, Romantic Tension, Awkward Flirting, Eventual Smut.

The Blight has ended, but Alistair’s thirst for adventure still drives him, distracting him from the memories that haunt his dreams. He travels to Orzammar once more in response to a letter from the King. Deep in the Frostback Mountains, he never expected to encounter an apostate, nor had he believed that anyone could make him burn at a single touch - until he met Rokara.

Taken from her family in her youth, Rokara escaped the Kinloch Hold Circle during the Blight. She vowed to never return to a life of confinement and prejudice, but after two years living off the land in the Frostback Mountains, desire for revenge against the man who ruined her life scratches incessantly in her mind, and she fears it will overwhelm her. Then Alistair stumbles upon her cave during a bitter storm, and for the first time, she begins to hope that there might be more to life than fear.

Shadows & Daggers: A Rogue’s Love Story | Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Rating: Explicit. Word Count: 113,558; 24 chapters. Status: In-progress. Pairing: Cullen Rutherford/Valina Voclain. Minor Dorian Pavus/Malakar Lavellan. Characters: Valina Voclain (OC), Cullen Rutherford, Malakar Lavellan (OC)/Male Inquisitor, Dorian Pavus, Iron Bull, Cole, Leliana, Josephine Montilyet, Cassandra Pentaghast, Scout Jim. Tags: Romance, Humour, Flirting, Action, Skyhold, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkward Flirting Unresolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Sexual Tension, Smut, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Cullenlingus, Sturdy Desk, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Non-Inquisitor OC.

The war against Corypheus is taking its toll, and Cullen is struggling to balance his role as Commander of the Inquisition with the personal demons that haunt his dreams and thoughts. He finds himself wishing for something more, for something beyond the missions and battle. He never expected that ‘more’ could come in the such a wicked and sultry package, whose relentless flirting sets his cheeks burning scarlet, and sends a thrill of fire through his veins.

Born into the Orlesian nobility, most would expect Valina Voclain to live a life of luxury. The Maker, however, had a different path in mind for the skilled Assassin. Travelling far and wide throughout Thedas, Valina’s skills as a mercenary have garnered her a formidable reputation. She never expected that a masquerade ball at the Winter Palace may hold more than a simple scandal, but the game always provides a few surprises, and the Inquisition’s presence is only one. She can’t deny that the flustered Commander’s advances intrigue her, nor can she deny her attraction to his golden eyes that set her blood aflame with desire.

Dragon Age Short Fics and One-Shots

(in series and reading order)

Sunny Stories:

‘Closer’ | Dragon Age II.

Rating: General. Word Count: 1,797; 2 chapters. Status: In-progress. Pairing: Varric Tethras/Bethany Hawke. Characters: Varric Tethras, Bethany Hawke. Tags: Pre-Relationship, Fluff, Light Angst, Secret Crush, Tumblr Prompt, POV Varric Tethras, Feels, Love Letters, Romance.

Sometimes, words don’t come as easily to Varric as he’d like.

Read it on: AO3 | Tumblr part 1, part 2.

‘Brighter Than Sunshine’ | Dragon Age II.

Rating: Teen. Word Count: 1,120; 1 chapter. Status: In-progress. Pairing: Varric Tethras/Bethany Hawke. Characters: Varric Tethras, Bethany Hawke, Garrett Hawke (Rogue), Aveline Vallen. Tags: Fluff, Action, Hurt/Comfort, POV Varric Tethras, Prompt.

If you lay a hand on Varric’s Sunshine, you best be prepared to get a kiss from Bianca.

Read it on: AO3 | Tumblr

‘Sweet Goodnight’ | Dragon Age II.

Rating: Teen. Word Count: 508. Status: Complete. Pairing: Varric Tethras/Bethany Hawke. Characters: Varric Tethras, Bethany Hawke. Tags: Fluff, Cutesy, Short & Sweet, Sweet, First Kiss, First Dates, Romance, New Relationship, Prompt.

Varric and Bethany say goodnight after their first date.

Read it on: AO3 | Tumblr

‘Believe in Me’ | Dragon Age II.

Rating: Teen. Word Count: 2,886; 3 chapters. Status: In-progress. Pairing: Varric Tethras/Bethany Hawke. Characters: Varric Tethras, Bethany Hawke, Garrett Hawke (Rogue), Isabela/ Tags: Angst, Fluff, Romantic, Fluff, New Relationship, Romance, Prompt, Confessions, Feels, Surprises, Snarky Hawke, Isabela is a Good Friend.

Varric learns the hard way not to leave old letters lying around.

Read it on: AO3 | Tumblr part 1, part 2, part 3.

Shadows & Daggers Headcanon Universe:

‘Dragon’s Den’ | Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Rating: Teen. Word Count: 1,579. Status: Complete. Pairing: Dorian Pavus/Malakar Lavellan. Characters: Dorian Pavus, Malakar Lavellan (OC), Iron Bull, Cassandra Pentaghast. Tags: Pre-Relationship, Action, Hurt/Comfort, Unresolved Romantic, Tension Romantic, Denial of Feelings, Light Angst, Prompt, Ferelden, Redcliffe.

Dragon battles seldom go as planned.

Read it on: AO3 | Tumblr

‘A Crippling Blow’ | Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Rating: Teen. Word Count: 1,032. Status: Complete. Pairing: Dorian Pavus/Malakar Lavellan. Characters: Dorian Pavus, Malakar Lavellan (OC), Iron Bull. Tags: Pre-Relationship, Pre-Romance, Angst, Mutual Pining, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Awkward Situations, Guilt, Jealousy, Prompt, Iron Bull is a Good Friend.

Iron Bull can’t help but notice Dorian’s sour mood, weeks of brooding that’s bringing the atmosphere of the Herald’s Rest down. He decides it’s time to find out what’s up with the mage, and see if he can help bring a spring back into his step.

Read it on: AO3 | Tumblr

‘Scarred’ | Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Rating: Teen. Word Count: 1,529. Status: Complete. Pairing: Cullen Rutherford/Valina Voclain. Characters: Cullen Rutherford, Valina Voclain (OC). Tags: Pre-Relationship, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Prompt, Non-Inquisitor OC.

He couldn’t describe the hold she had on him, except to say it was vice-like in nature, a force that could not be denied. He should be used to this now, used to her after weeks of these exchanges, yet still, he found himself stumbling over his thoughts with the barest look.

Read it on: AO3 | Tumblr

‘Challenge’ | Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Rating: Mature. Word Count: 1,104. Status: Complete. Pairing: Cullen Rutherford/Valina Voclain. Characters: Cullen Rutherford, Valina Voclain (OC). Tags: Pre-Relationship, Fluff, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Teasing, Flirting, Sparring, Desire, Mutual Pining, Mutual Attraction, Non-Inquisitor OC.

Cullen and Valina face off in the training ring again, with unexpected results.

Set after the events of 0102and03’s wonderful gift fic If It’s Not Rough It Isn’t Fun.

Read it on: AO3 | Tumblr

‘Endearment’ | Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Rating: Teen. Word Count: 464. Status: Complete. Pairing: Dorian Pavus/Malakar Lavellan. Characters: Dorian Pavus, Malakar Lavellan (OC). Tags: Fluff, Endearments, Morning Cuddles, Morning Kisses, Romantic Fluff, Romance, Prompt.

Dorian enjoys morning cuddles with his Amatus.

Read it on: AO3 | Tumblr

‘Wicked Game’ | Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Rating: Explicit. Word Count: 2,415. Status: Complete. Pairing: Cullen Rutherford/Valina Voclain. Characters: Cullen Rutherford, Valina Voclain (OC), Dorian Pavus, Malakar Lavellan (OC), Sera, Josephine Montiliyet. Tags: Shameless Smut, Smut, Romance, Established Relationship, Confident Cullen Rutherford, Semi-Public Sex, Prompt, Non-Inquisitor OC.

Naughty touches under the table at Herald’s Rest earn Valina a little more than she expected…

Read it on: AO3 | Tumblr

‘An Interview with Vicious Val’ | Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Rating: Teen. Word Count: 1,675. Status: Complete. Pairing: Cullen Rutherford/Valina Voclain (implied). Characters: Valina Voclain (OC). Tags: Original Character-centric, Based on a Tumblr Post, Interviews, Humour, Established Relationship, Skyhold, Slice of Life, Dragon Age Universe, Suggestive Themes, Romance, Non-Inquisitor OC.

Adapted from elfsplaining’s interview with her awesome OC Shaera Lavellan.

Read it on: AO3 | Tumblr

‘Wake Up Call’ | Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Rating: Explicit. Word Count: 1,494. Status: Complete. Pairing: Cullen Rutherford/Valina Voclain. Characters: Cullen Rutherford, Valina Voclain (OC). Tags: Established Relationship, Shameless Smut, Smut, Romantic Fluff, Fluff, Romance, Affection, Morning Cuddles, Prompt, Non-Inquisitor OC.

Cullen loves waking up to his rogue.

Read it on: AO3 | Tumblr

  ‘How I Long For You’ | Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Rating: Mature. Word Count: 1,032. Status: Complete. Pairing: Cullen Rutherford/Valina Voclain. Characters: Cullen Rutherford, Valina Voclain (OC). Tags: Established Relationship, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Love Letters, Romance, Prompt, Non-Inquisitor OC.

Cullen relaxes with a walk on the battlements while he waits for his wicked rogue to return from a mission.

Read it on: AO3 | Tumblr

‘Trouble’ | Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Rating: Explicit. Word Count: 1,532. Status: Complete. Pairing: Cullen Rutherford/Valina Voclain. Characters: Cullen Rutherford, Valina Voclain (OC). Tags: Established Relationship, Smut, Fluff, Romance, Prompt, Non-Inquisitor OC.

Cullen and Valina enjoy a much longed for reunion following the events of ‘How I Long For You.’

Read it on: AO3 | Tumblr

‘Lullaby’ | Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Rating: Teen. Word Count: 940. Status: Complete. Pairing: Cullen Rutherford/Valina Voclain. Characters: Cullen Rutherford, Valina Voclain (OC). Tags: Established Relationship, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Romance, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Post-What Pride Had Wrought, Non-Inquisitor OC, Prompt.

Cullen knows the nightmares may never leave him - especially when they flare after the hardship of battle - but Valina always knows how to soothe his fears.

Read it on: AO3 | Tumblr

Non-Headcanon Universe:

‘To Vex the Rose With Jealousy’ | Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Rating: Explicit. Word Count: 3,310. Status: Complete. Pairing: Cullen Rutherford/Female Warrior Trevelyan. Characters: Cullen Rutherford, Inquisitor: Female Warrior Trevelyan. Tags: Romance, Fluff, Desire, Mutual Pining, Smut, Jealousy, Shameless Smut, Porn With Some Plot, Prompt.

Jealousy is vicious and creeping; it rears its ugly head when you least expect it, baring fangs at people you hold dear. As much as Cullen tries to fight it, knowing it’s wrong to feel such emotion for the Inquisitor, he can’t resist forever…

Read it on: AO3 | Tumblr

Planned Shadows & Daggers Headcanon Universe Fics

The Chronicles of Jim | Dragon Age: Inquisition. Rating: Mature.

Untitled Iron Bull Romance | Dragon Age: Inquisition. Rating: TBA.

Untitled Dorian Pavus Romance | Dragon Age: Inquisition. Rating: TBA.

Untitled Cassandra Pentaghast Romance | Dragon Age: Inquisition. Rating: TBA.

Non-Dragon Age Long Fics

In the Blood | True Blood.

Rating: Explicit. Word Count: 57,264; 11 chapters. Status: In-progress. Pairing: Eric Northman/Sarah Knight. Characters: Eric Northman, Sarah Knight (OC), Sookie Stackhouse, Bill Compton, Sam Merlotte, Pam Swynford De Beaufort, Tara Thornton, Lafayette Reynolds. Tags: Romance, Humour, Angst, Awkward Flirting, Flirting, Action, Merlotte’s, Fangtasia, Sexual Tension, Sexual Situations, Fluff, Smut, Dating, New Relationship, Jealousy, Claiming, Secret Powers, Self-Esteem Issues, Desire, Unrequited Love, Vampire Property, Vampires Biting, Blood Drinking, Height Differences, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Female Friendship, Self-Discovery.

Sarah considers herself the meek English girl of Bon Temps. After moving to the sleepy Louisiana town more than 18 months ago, she’s no longer exciting and new and doesn’t consider herself pretty enough to garner much attention beyond a tip at Merlotte’s. Resigned to the quiet life of a bachelorette, she never expected to catch the attention of a vampire, let alone a towering, alluring man like Eric Northman.

In his thousand years, Eric has never seen a human step between two vampires on the verge of a fight, especially when that human is a five foot nothing English woman labelled as 'sweet’ by the Bon Temps locals. After unearthing Sarah’s darkest secret, though, he discovers there’s much more to her than amber eyes, the intoxicating scent of her blood, and sun-kissed curves made for loving.

Non-Dragon Age Fics (awaiting rewrites)

Crimson Angel | Supernatural.

‘Trigger Happy’ | Burn Notice.

How It Burns | Burn Notice.

Clockwork Heart | Iron Man.

The Ultimate Captivation | The Vampire Diaries.

Fun and Games | Harry Potter Universe.

Claws | X-Men Universe.

A Life in the Shade | Trigun.

‘A Touch of Darkness’ | Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

‘Two of Hearts’ | Doctor Who.

‘No Bounds’ | Torchwood.

‘It Was A Secret’ | Naruto.

Last updated 13:15 on 23/07/17.

[rosietales-blog1]

time is a surprisingly tricky concept and how to manage time is even trickier it’s slippery, you know

you have loads of time and  then you blink and suddenly everything you dreamed of comes crashing down while you race to fulfill life’s expectations

leaving the hollow sound, the repetitive plink, plink, plink, your hopes are loose change, slipping away

loose change, and life asks you for dollar bills

and your family expects you to show franklins, and the pennies keep slipping through your fingers

and you’re always ten minutes late

[rosietales-blog1]

I am not sure if this is too late for @submissivesolas, but I wanted to do something on the touch starved theme. Inspired by how surprised Solas sounds every time he calls a non-romanced, high approval Inquisitor ‘friend’.

Solas - friendship | gen Touch starved, background Trevelyan x Dorian, angst 

Alone

Josephine is the first who discovers it. After a meeting, she thanks him for his insight on the Breach, touching his arm lightly. He can feel the heat of her hand through his sweater, and he leans slightly towards her. He jerks back when he realizes, but the Ambassador just smiles.

A few days later, she hands him a report on rift locations.

“You should join us for dinner some time, Solas.” She says it casually, with a smile. He knows her and Leliana tries to get the Herald, the advisors and the closest circle to all come. He thinks of the press of people, of the warmth of them. He thinks of things he can’t have. He shakes his head.

She hovers closer, into his space, but not close enough to touch. “Your stories are so fascinating. It would be a delight to have you join, should you change your mind.”

Sera, of all people, is the next one who notices. They are in the tavern in Haven, returned from a successful outing. He is not entirely sure why he is here, on the same bench as the Herald, drinking thin beer. Sera appears, carrying more.

“Scoot over, Solas!”

She doesn’t wait, she sits next to him, and he suddenly trapped between the large human and the small elf. It feels hot, their thighs pressed against him. Real. He focuses on his drink.

Soon, Sera leans across him, raising her fist to meet Trevelyan’s. It puts her head below his chin, and he can’t remember the last time he had someone else’s hair tickle his face. Her hair smells like lavender soap, and he cannot remember. When she gone, he is frozen. Everyone is so alive. He quickly retreats, bidding all of them goodnight. He can feel Sera’s eyes at his back.

Now, whenever they fight together, Sera claps his shoulder after, a friendly gesture for all her biting words.

“Arrows, eh? Not a bad thing.”

It is not a bad thing at all.

The Inquisitor relies on touch. He kisses Cassandra’s hand and laughs when she blushes. He offers a friendly hug to any soldier after a sparring match. He squeezes Leliana’s shoulder when he accepts a report.

Solas finds he enjoys the other man’s friendship, odd as it seems. He is remarkably open minded for what Solas has come to expect in this age. Despite his preference of turning almost anything into a lighthearted joke, he shows both compassion and subtlety in leading the Inquisition. He continues to surprise.  

When he stops by with a question for Solas, he leans into his space. He offers a big smile, or a frown when he disagrees. He brushes his hand against Solas’, he clasps his shoulder. Solas finds he doesn’t mind.

It becomes a new normal, no matter who is in his company. Touches. Smiles. Friendship.

He gives in at some point, seeking it out.

They are at a camp, and the Iron Bull has convinced Cassandra to read aloud from Sword and Shields. She is furiously blushing, but Max Trevelyan is disarming and encouraging, his head resting in Dorian’s lap. Soon, however, Cassandra declares it too dark to read.

“I can provide some light,” Solas offers, and uses it as an excuse to move closer to her, a mage light appearing by his face. When he feels tired, it feels utterly normal to rest his head on Cassandras shoulder.

“They’re real, you know.” Cole is perched at the top of the scaffolding, knees tucked under his chin.

“I am not sure that is something you can understand, Cole.”

“You like it though. Their realness.”

He doesn’t answer. He knows Cole is just trying to help, but he doesn’t need the reminder. He has gotten used to it, being among people. Friends.

“It doesn’t have to end. Why will it?”

“I appreciate your help, but it might be better if you stopped trying. I am truly sorry.”

“You are.” When Solas next looks up, the boy is gone.

There is no one else here either, no smiles, no touch on his skin. Soon, every moment will be like that.

Solas sits at his desk, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes.                                                                                                                                            

[rosietales-blog1]

Summary: Hawke has loved Varric for a long time. 

Tags: Aroace Varric, Platonic Relationships, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Hawke discovers queerplatonic relationships, Purple Hawke

Length: 2.5K

Aro-ace Varric is best Varric :D 

[rosietales-blog1]

Love Comfort (Yondu Udonta x Reader) Smut

Summary: Yondu wakes up in the middle of the night from a nightmare and you comfort him.

-Female Reader-

A/N: This transpired from a conversation in the Rookerchat about Yondu possibly having nightmares about his past.

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Oral Sex.

An unnerving scream startled Yondu out of his abysmal nightmare and he sat up with a jolt. His cheeks were wet and his body was bathed in a cold sweat as his heart pounded against his chest.The sheets were twisted around his limbs, probably because he’d been thrashing in his sleep.

Yondu trembled.

The room was entirely dark, the lamp on the nightstand as black as the darkness surrounding him. It must’ve died sometime during the night. Yondu hated the darkness. He never slept with the lights off anymore. Not since Stakar rescued him from the Kree’s. The remnants of his nightmare still clung to his mind, haunting him. Yondu had no trouble imagining the Kree Reapers lurking in the murky darkness of his chamber.

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