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rosieofcorona · 7 months

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In the Blue Morning

BELOVEDS, a soft little Solavellan fic for you. Mostly fluff this time around to soothe the eternal, unyielding hurt. Also on AO3, if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading. 💕

She cajoles him, some mornings, away from his office, from his maps and his books and his paintings and out among the newly-planted gardens, all their tight, unfurling blooms.

It’s always empty at this hour, when most of Skyhold is still asleep save for the guards in their high towers, the recruits in the practice yard. The only sound is the clang of their swords ringing through the mist like distant bells, the only light the pink and gold of the nascent sun.

They have been careful, desperately careful not to draw undue attention, not to generate rumors that could harm the Inquisition in the future. It is easier on the road to find a quiet moment alone– to steal a kiss or hold a hand or put words to their love– but the castle, however safe, is full of eyes, forever watching.

It is only in the narrow, muted hours before dawn that Solas weaves his fingers with hers as they orbit the courtyard, side by side.

He names the blossoms as they pass, first in the trade tongue and then in Elvish, the softened syllables like music on his tongue. She repeats them half as gracefully, but he smiles at every attempt, correcting her gently now and again, praising her efforts.

“Gail’lealis,” he says, pointing out an elegant bellflower, its blue-white petals bundled tightly in green sepals.

It sounds off, even to her ear, when she says, “Ga’lealis,” back.

They pause for a moment, and Solas turns and bends and plucks an early bloom from the same plant, rotating it slowly between his fingers, holding it up for examination.

“Ga-il,” he repeats softly, separating the sounds. “Meaning ‘bell,’ in the common parlance.”

“Ga-il,” she says again, correctly this time.

“Followed by lealis, meaning ‘glass.’”

“Gail’lealis.”

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, tucking the flower behind her ear, the meaning vague yet all-encompassing. It is all beautiful– the morning, the garden, how she catches the light, his ancient language in her mouth, her mouth–

Solas kisses her in the empty courtyard, parts her lips with a linguist’s tongue, and she kisses him back again and again as if each time might be the last. He wants to stay like this forever, wants the sun to forget to rise, wants the castle to sleep and sleep in an endless dream.

But the light keeps coming, every moment. The castle will wake, and they will see.

And this will cost them, in the end.

She is pink as the sky when they finally come apart, and continue their long walk around.

“I hear you were out here yesterday,” she says, breaking the silence as they turn a corner. “Cullen says you beat him soundly at chess.”

“It was a closer game than he thinks,” Solas says, but she has learned when he’s just being modest.

“Must not have been that close, because Bull says the same. As do Blackwall, and Varric, and Dorian, though he swears that you cheated.” “I did no such thing!”

When they turn again, the chessboard in question comes into full view, set and waiting on its table beneath an awning.

“He seemed very certain,” she shrugs. “Though I suppose I could find out for myself.”

They stop again before the table, and Solas looks at her intently. “Is that a challenge, dear Inquisitor?”

“That depends on your level of skill.”

She’s teasing him now, enticing him, a dynamic he’s come to enjoy. There are so few who impress him with thoughtfulness, who make him work at being clever.

“Very well, but you should know that I am merciless,” he warns, a contradiction to the chivalry of pulling out her chair. “Even to one I love.”

He takes the seat opposite her, the board and the pieces adorned in glittering dew.

“I believe the Lady Inquisitor moves first.”

**********

He sets a dozen little traps for her, a dozen clever gambits, and she evades them every time, to his astonishment. Where he moves to attack, she counters; where he baits her, she defends or retreats. By the end, with the sun fully risen overhead, they reach a deadlock, both depleted, neither victorious.

“Again?” She asks cheerfully, when they’ve finished. Already she is freeing her captives from his end of the table. “Don’t look so stunned, my love. Unless you’re trying to offend me.”

“Forgive me, vhenan,” he says, shaking his head. “You surprise me as always. It is rare to find an opponent so…discerning.”

His beloved laughs with the morning breeze, a sound like air that surrounds and envelops him.

“Rare to find one you can’t beat, you mean.”

She’s right, of course– it is rare that he loses, even rarer that he plays against someone so evenly matched. He still can’t quite puzzle through it, where he went wrong, where she figured him out.

He had gotten a lead on her early on, or so he thought– he had taken a tower, a mage, and two pawns– and left his queen open for the taking, which she had entirely ignored. She caught onto him quickly, though too late to win, and when she realized she couldn’t beat him, she had blocked him instead.

Solas leans thoughtfully back in his chair, replaying their game in his mind. No matter how he tries to beat her, he finds no way through. She sees his scheming, sees him coming, cuts him off.

“Why did you not take my queen, given the chance?”

“Because you gave me the chance,” she reasons. “You wouldn’t do that except to win.”

“It could have been a tactical error.” “It wasn’t,” she says assuredly, resetting the pieces along their battle lines. “If I had taken her, it would have left my king undefended from your mages.” “You could have moved him.” “For a turn or two. Then your knight would have circled back. Isn’t that right?” She looks up at Solas, her eyes smiling and sharp, affirmed in her answer already. “Or shall we call that a ‘tactical error?’”

“Mm,” Solas nods his approval. “You’ve become quite the strategist. Have you been spending time with our Commander?”

“I’ve been spending time with you,” she counters. “Learning all your little tricks.”

Not all, it occurs to him, but Solas smothers the thought with a laugh. “It seems to me you have a few of your own.”

“Our Keeper used to call me harellan,” she tells him. “Trickster. Though I needn’t explain that to you.”

He fights to keep the easy expression on his face, feeling suddenly caught in the snare of her gaze, as if she sees directly through him, sees him fully, all he is.

Harellan, his mind echoes. How could she know?

The wait for her judgment feels infinite, inevitable– but it does not come, and does not come, and does not come. She only moves a white pawn toward the board’s center, the leaves rustling softly around them.

No, he decides. She does not know. She only means he knows the word.

Solas mirrors her opening move, their pawns face to face on the battlefield. “And still, your Keeper named you her First.”

“I was more troublesome as a child,” she says, with a grin that implies that the mischief has never left her. “I’ve settled down a great deal since. Can’t you tell?”

This time, when Solas laughs, there is nothing else hiding beneath it. No uneasy feeling, no great fear that she will discover him, cast him out. There is only happiness for a moment, the war reduced to a board between them, as if sorrow and death are nowhere, and the end of the world is far away.

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sorceresssundries · 15 days

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I have written some stuff for DAI but have been nervous to share it, because this has solely been a BG3 blog up until this point.

But, you got to go where the wind takes you right?

I'm still deep into BG3 and especially my two wizards and my daddy druid, but I have many many thoughts about Beefy Blackwall and Commander Cullen, so some of that may trickle in.

I love sharing my work with you, and know that my best stuff is what i'm most passionate about.

I haven't finished the game yet, so am avoiding spoilers! But I hope some of you will enjoy some of the Dragon Age smut/angst/fluff if I feel brave enough to share it.

Love you!

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imdoingaokay · 2 years

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R!DAI Companions + Advisors with an Inquisitor that wants a baby (and/or is pregnant)

Hey guys, I'm alive. This is something I've had for a while, and it's also the longest post I've made. So... yeah. Sorry I don't post all that much, I promise I'm trying.

Anyways, enjoy this self-indulgent fluff piece that I've been working on.

This had every companion, romanced except for Cole, Leliana, and Vivienne (so that means you get romanced Varric in this, you're welcome.)

HEAVY SPOILERS AHEAD! And slight NSFW, nothing too bad, just Bull being sex-positive.

TOKOPHOBIA WARNING

It started innocently enough, the Inquisitor would wander around Skyhold, visiting their friends and lover, just to check in (or give their lover a smooch.) Then a squeal of delight was heard, probably by everyone from Undercroft to the Rookery, that came from the Inquisitor. What they were squealing and cooing about? A baby. A chubby, chortling baby a pilgrim had brought to Skyhold that the Inquisitor had practically stumbled into. The Inquisitor was so enamored with the child, that they ended up spending the rest of the day wandering around Skyhold with the little one.

Then it got worse.

Parents, unable to resist the temptation of the Inquisitor offering to take their little ones for a stroll while they got some well-deserved rest, happily gave the Inquisitor their children. The children that did get babysat by the Inquisitor had far more fun than expected, walking along the battlements, eating a meal or two curated by the Inquisitor, and even being told stories of their exploits. The children of Skyhold grew to adore the Inquisitor, and the Inquisitor adored them in turn.

Soon enough, The Inquisitor became often sidetracked while on missions (more so than usual.) They would stop in their tracks to hold up a trinket or a flower and smile to themselves, telling their companions how they intended to give whatever they held to a specific child. By the time the mission was over, the Inquisitor had lined their pockets with various items to give to the children.

All of this led to the Inquisitor’s friends and/or lover asking “why?” To which the Inquisitor looked them dead in the eye and shrugged.

“I want a baby of my own.”

Blackwall/Thom Rainier:

Platonic: Blackwall shrugs, he gets it. The kids are cute. And it’s far more healthy for the Inquisitor to spend time taking care of other people’s children rather than go out and just… have one.

Not like he wouldn’t mind, Uncle Rainier sounds like a nice title, right? Hopefully, The Inquisitor wants a hand-carved cradle when they have their child.

Romanced: He goes “Uh… is that… something you… want to do… now?” Rainer never truly saw himself settling down officially. He didn’t think he truly deserved that. But the idea of having a few kids? With the woman he loves? Top-tier fantasy in his book. And now with his true identity out of the way, he feels a little better about his future. Especially with his lover.

He needs to hear his lover say “not right now” because he would be more than happy to give his Inquisitor a few kids, and he wouldn’t have the mental strength to say no if they asked.

Now if his lover does, by some chance, get pregnant. He’s over the moon. He fights harder, and faster, always eager to end Corypheus and retire. He’s such a sappy guy too, always wanting to stay as close as possible to his lover. So one should expect him to personally request that he be sent out all the time with The Inquisitor. That man has a nursery ready to go by the time The Inquisitor’s ready to give birth. He carves a cradle, high chairs, and everything the baby could need. He’s willing to build a palace with his two bare hands for his family.

Cassandra:

Platonic: She gets it. Kids are super cute, why not have a few? If she didn’t become a seeker, she knows she would have a few of her own, whether she wanted to or not. But hopefully, the Inquisitor isn’t planning on having any now. Like… now, now. Because the Inquisition still needs them, she still needs them.

If The Inquisitor ends up pregnant or their partner ends up pregnant, she gets furious. She chews them out a little, claiming how immature they are for bringing a child into the world when the world is in so much turmoil.

She calms later, especially when the child is born, recognizing the love The Inquisitor and their partner show for the child. She doesn’t apologize, as she’s still pissed, but she does adore the child.

Romanced: “Oh.” She says before her face goes completely red. She’ll have to pull them aside and talk about their future together. She’s honestly flattered when the Inquisitor claims they want to have children with her. She’d be a liar if she said she didn’t want kids of her own, especially with the Inquisitor, but the both of them ought to know that they can’t… not yet… anyways. But once all the rifts are closed and they have some more time for themselves, then… then, yeah. Yeah, she would like that.

Maker, help her if she ends up pregnant, she’ll be extremely stressed, for both her and her lover’s sake. One should expect her to refuse to go out on missions until the baby is born, and expect her to be furious when her lover goes too.

Cole: He understands, mainly because he read the Inquisitor’s mind, but he understands deeper than that. He thinks the Inquisitor would be an excellent parent, especially with how they treat him (if high affinity.) He holds a great deal of respect for them, and he knows that their heart is full of a very fluffy, wholesome type of love. One that Cole is more than happy to reciprocate.

If the Inquisitor does end up having children, Cole is a very willing babysitter, as he doesn’t sleep and he’s able to tell what exactly a baby wants.

Cullen Rutherford:

Platonic: Cullen furrows his brow before his gaze softens. He understands, he does. The thought of a little house, a family dog, and the sounds of little feet pittering against the floorboards, it’s nice. But that life is… unachievable, especially for a man like him. A man who is so busy, who has no right to live such a dreamy life. But The Inquisitor? They deserve that. They truly do.

He doesn’t need to ask if they mean right then and there, he knows what they mean and that they don’t intend on bringing in a child just yet.

“You would be wonderful.” He says, placing a comforting hand on their shoulder

If the Inquisitor ever ends up pregnant, Cullen won’t be able to stay very calm at all. He encourages the Inquisitor to stay behind in Skyhold but gives up when the Inquisitor becomes stubborn. He eventually has to turn to Leliana or Cassandra for help.

Romanced: It’s a simple desire, to have children. And Cullen’s had it every once in a while, like when he was in Kirkwall and saw a small child toddle towards another templar. He watched his colleague’s wife follow after the child, about to scold the babe for interrupting their father in the middle of work. The templar, instead, scooped the child up in his arms and showered the child’s pudgy face in kisses. That domestic bliss was something Cullen found himself longing for. But he was too busy, life was too busy. And then The Chantry exploded, and he was in The Inquisition… he couldn’t think about that. Not until he met his Inquisitor. Now he imagines what life will be like after the pair are finished. If The Inquisitor has already affirmed that they aren’t leaving him, Cullen’s willing to have a family with The Inquisitor, as long as the two are finished with Corypheus first.

But if life finds a way… he’s happy and nervous. He begs his lover to stay behind in Skyhold, terrified of the billion things that could go wrong. Of course, rifts must be closed, so, against his better judgment, he lets her go.

His dreams get progressively worse when she’s away, it was always like that… but the dreams are worse when she’s pregnant. It gets to a point where he goes weeks without sleep, aside from the occasional nap that he gets jolted up from. The second his lover is back, Cullen whisks her away from the War Room and ushers her back to her quarters, where he has a healer check on her and the baby. Once he is certain she is fine, and the sun has gone down, Cullen lays down next to his lover and passes out into a dreamless slumber.

Dorian Pavus:

Platonic: “Oh that is hilarious.” He laughs before his smile falls, “Wait you’re serious?”

He listens to his friend, but worriedly reminds them how dangerous it is to bring a child into the world, especially with the Inquisitor in such a highly scrutinized role.

If the Inquisitor assures him that they don’t plan on having kids just yet, he’s relieved, but secretly disappointed. He does like babies… when they’re not puking or pooping.

Now if the Inquisitor is planning on having a child or is already pregnant, he’s ecstatic. He’s all over that and can’t wait until the baby comes. The man buys cribs, toys, parenting books, and much more. Don’t be surprised if he gets a “world’s best uncle” wine glass or something.

Romanced: He jokes, “We could just adopt, I’m sure there are plenty of little Tevinter babies that need two insanely beautiful fathers.”

Now, he is joking, but he’s secretly terrified. But not because he’s worried he’ll be a lousy father or anything, he knows he’ll be different from his father. But, the thought of having kids is something he always knew he was going to do. And then everything happened with his father and his Amatus, and now he feels like… he has a choice? He can say no. He can say yes. He can adopt, or have a surrogate. He doesn’t have to fit into the status quo anymore.

But what if something happens? What if something goes wrong? What if he isn’t able to provide for his child the way they deserve?

It takes some talking down from his Amatus for him to truly relax. The two will need to speak about what they both plan future-wise. And while Dorian may not follow the same ideals as most of Tevinter, he still plans on putting a ring on it before they have kids. After all, they have to have some decorum. But, he also wants to get married because he does love his Amatus and marriage just makes things feel more official.

Iron Bull:

Platonic: He likes kids, so he gets it, too. He may not outright encourage it, but he assures the Inquisitor how great of a parent they’ll be. Now, if the Inquisitor does end up pregnant, he’s overjoyed… on their behalf… not, like, because he wants to be called an uncle or something… (he wants to be called “uncle” very badly)

He makes the kid an honorary member of the Chargers and attempts to make the little one a onesie that has an embroidered “Bull’s Chargers” lettering on the front.

It takes him all of the pregnancy, but once the baby is born the child has a lovely little onesie that looks incredible. He won’t admit it, but that embroidery took way too long than anyone expected.

Romanced: “We can make that work.” He smiles. Honestly, he assumes that The Inquisitor might have some sort of kink. He’s more than happy to oblige. If the Inquisitor doesn’t clarify what they desire, claiming that they want a baby, Bull watches them closer. He notices small things that make him draw his conclusions. The way his lover holds a small child, how they speak to them, and how sad they look when they have to hand over the child to their parents at the end of the day. He will bring it up in the next few days, and eventually ask them if they want to be parents together, once everything is handled. He wouldn’t mind a kid or two, if his kadan wants it, Bull knows his kadan would be one hell of a parent.

Maker help him if The Inquisitor ends up pregnant, he’s so happy he can’t bother himself by being nervous. Just kidding, he’s super nervous. The Qun doesn’t have fathers, how the hell is he supposed to be there for his kid when he has no idea what kids need?

He needs constant reassurance and ends up going to Krem for advice on taking care of children. Krem had siblings, so he should know… right?

He has his game face on by the time The Inquisitor has the baby, Bull read every single book on childbirth, so he’s basically an expert. He’s all about that counter pressure and breathing techniques, so much so that the midwives are impressed themselves.

Josephine Montilyet:

Platonic: She sighs, one of those dreamy sighs, “Oh I completely understand, well… a little bit. I’m sure having children is much different from having siblings, so I’m certain it’s better.”

She knows the Inquisitor isn’t going just to waltz off and get pregnant or get someone else pregnant. But she does clarify if they want a child right then and there. If they say that they intend to have a child as soon as possible, she may faint.

She’s stressed if the Inquisitor or their partner ends up with a child, and gently encourages the pair to get maybe married. Less of a reputation sting that way. If they refuse, she mentally prepares herself for questions from nobles and a few Orlesian nobles who were interested in The Inquisitor themselves.

Romanced: She smiles, “I would… like that.” She says. She’s come from a big family, Josephine would be a liar if she said she didn't want to have a big family of their own. But then she proceeds to clarify “not right now.”

“I do think about children, but you and I both know what a terrible idea it would be to bring them into their lives now." She also clarifies that she intends to cross a few relationship milestones too.

Leliana: A decade younger, Leliana would’ve been right next to The Inquisitor, cooing over the children they affectionately spoke so much about. But Leliana was older… and admittedly more cynical now. It didn’t help that Leliana was now a spymaster in the Inquisition.

“I… understand, but do try to resist any temptation that points you towards… having any children at the moment.” She says plainly.

Maker helps Leliana if The Inquisitor has children with their partner. She’ll end up frustratingly baby-proofing the entirety of Skyhold.

She’s happy when she finally meets the baby, and she can’t help but soften for a little while as she gazes down at the newborn. Her faith somehow returns and any doubts she had over the Maker disappear, as if there was no Maker, how could something so perfect exist? At least, she thinks that until someone looks at her, then she’s all business again.

Sera:

Platonic: Not interested, or at least, the statement doesn’t faze her. Why would such a badass want little kids? Snotty… annoying… chubby cheeked… super cute- okay, she gets it.

She tells her friend they would probably be a good parent, but would also totally not believe the Inquisitor if they were pregnant or got their partner pregnant. It would only be until she saw The Inquisitor or their partner’s bump that she would accept that maybe they were having a baby.

She loves the kid like a sibling and often offers to make cookies for the baby, not realizing that the baby cannot have solid food for the first few months. She counts down the days when she can goof around with the kid on her own, whenever that might be.

Romanced: Laughs for a while, only to pause when she sees the serious look on her lover’s face.

“You’re serious? You want…” She thinks for a moment before laughing again, “Yeah… I’d want that too! We’d be great mums!” She giggles.

She’s super on board, and would be the “fun mom.” This means The Inquisitor would be the one that would have to discipline the children. But aside from that, Sera’s all over having kids.

Solas:

Platonic: High approval Solas would approve, he would nod and tell The Inquisitor that they would be an excellent parent, that they have the wisdom and patience that would be fit for a parent. He advises them to wait, first, as having a child while Corypheus is still at large is a terrible idea.

Low approval, he kind of just nods. He tells them that they should wait if they intend to have a child, as it’s a bad idea. He doesn’t do much else, no encouragement, just a simple shrug, and sigh. He doesn’t care.

Regardless of approval, if the Inquisitor or their partner ends up pregnant, and Solas is still there, he sort of freaks out. His main concern is the mark and its effect on the child, but once that’s ruled out, he still feels guilty. Hopefully, he leaves before the child is born. Because he cracks when he sees them for the first time. Does he really have it in him to end the world when someone as pure and untouched as that child exists?

It takes some deliberation, but he does. And he leaves, praying he never meets the child ever again.

Romanced: He pauses, were they… serious?

Solas can’t help himself but imagine a life with his vhenan, away from responsibilities, with a few children surrounding the pair. He’d be a liar if that lovely thought didn’t cross his mind when he would steal gazes at his vhenan, but… that’s all it was… right? A thought.

He claims that his vhenan would be an excellent parent, but also ensures that he doesn’t want children, not before Corypheus is defeated. But maybe it’s an accident. He breaks his rule of not sleeping with Lavellan under false pretenses. Once his vhenan is pregnant, his actions depend on The Inquisitor’s dialogue choices. If The Inquisitor were to drink from the Well of Sorrows and then affirm Solas’ choice of fixing the past, he would leave. Not without incredible pain, but he leaves. But if by some chance, by some sliver of a chance, Lavellan says the right things, Solas stays. He hates himself for it, so he promises himself he’ll stay until the birth. Then he looks at his child and weeps. Like if he was platonic, Solas is thrown into turmoil, how could he destroy the world of a child? His child? So he resolves to stay and give up on his mission.

On another note, if he leaves, and Lavellan sees him in Trespasser, he’s more willing to take his vhenan and his child with him.

Varric Tethras:

Platonic: Varric laughs, “Now that would be a twist… The great Inquisitor, changing diapers in between closing rifts and demon fights.” He smiles to himself.

As a dwarf, their fertility is comparatively lower than the other races, and honestly, he never thought of himself as a parent, at least, not until he met and started parenting Cole. Of course, he doubts he’ll ever have his own family, Bianca and he, it would never work out. But he can understand the desire.

He laughs so hard he cries if The Inquisitor or their partner ends up with a kid, like, hunched over, can’t breathe laughing.

He’s nervous for The Inquisitor, though, he knows how hard it is to be a parent, but having a kid while they’re so… important? It’s a recipe for disaster.

Might end up writing the kid out of the story if The Inquisitor requests, maybe The Inquisitor doesn’t want anyone knowing they potentially had a child out of wedlock.

Romanced: Varric doesn’t laugh, he just smiles. He hadn’t started thinking about having a family until he and The Inquistor started going out officially. He nods,

“I’d like that too.” He says, and the pair might find themselves discussing their future more often. Names for future children, where they’d live, does the Inqusitor want a dog?

He reminds his lover that Dwarves aren’t known for their fertility, but reminds his lover that “they can still try” and winks at his lover.

Varric is so caught up in the feeling of being loved so freely, that he sometimes forgets that there’s an evil, red-lyrium magister that wants to rip his lover apart piece by piece. It get’s him nervous, but he’s confident in their shared abilities. And damnit, he loves The Inquisitor, he’s not giving up on them.

He’s speechless if his lover comes up to him and confesses that they’re pregnant, like… actually speechless. He opens his mouth to say something before closing it. Then he just smiles and throws his arms around his lover and says that he loves them. He’s happy to be a dad… he’s happy to have a family, he’s happy to have something he never thought would be his.

Vivienne: She doesn’t laugh, at all. She’s kind of pissed.

“You aren’t planning on bringing in a child now? Not here, right?” She has to clarify.

She thinks the Inquisitor and their partner will be wonderful parents, but they shouldn’t have kids right then. They need to wait.

If the Inquisitor ends up pregnant/getting someone else pregnant, she scolds them fairly harshly, not to be mean or anything, she’s just upset with how “careless” they could be. If the Inquisitor tells her off or, Maker forbid, starts crying, she’ll feel bad. She doesn’t apologize, however, she knows that having a child while the world is still basically in peril and you’re the main person preventing utter chaos is one of the worst things you can do.

However, the second the child comes into the world, she’s all over them. She isn’t obvious and wouldn’t be caught dead with the kid on her own, but she can’t help but smile when she sees them all swaddled or when they look so chubby she just wants to eat them up. Only when she sees what a wonderful parent the Inquisitor is, she apologizes for being harsh. She does it in her way, so the Inquisitor shouldn’t expect an “I’m sorry” or anything, but they will get some sort of comment on how she may or may not have been wrong to judge them. Regardless, the Inquisitor better take what they can get.

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nelkenbabe · 2 months

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.nelkenbabe writing masterlist.

Ivy & Twine

Post-Trespasser/Multi-Wardenverse (ongoing, 168,169 words) Amaryll Lavellan x Cullen Rutherford Amaryll Lavellan x Josephine Montilyet main elements: slow burn, bisexual yearning, a redemption arc for cullen, corruption arc for someone else ('tis a secret), crises of identity, and merrill hunting down a serial killer in kirkwall

Throne

Ivy & Twine universe, alternate timeline (completed, 6,774 words) Amaryll Lavellan x Thom Rainier main elements: fluff and smut, friends to lovers

Of Snow and Smoke

Ivy & Twine universe, set at the beginning of DA:I (completed, 5,079 words) main elements: Amaryll and Cassandra rivalry, Amaryll and Solas developing friendship, mourning and funeral rites

Days of Dust

Ivy & Twine universe, set during DA:I (completed, 1,225 words) main elements: Amaryll and Solas developing friendship

His Warmth

Fenris x Garrett Hawke (completed, 1,486) main elements: Huddle for Warmth, fluff

Everybody Deserves A Second Chance, He Said

Inquisitor x Blackwall (completed, 3,920 words) main elements: Rainier pardon, Hurt/Comfort

#dragon age fanfiction #dragon age fanfic #da fanfic #dragon age #dragon age: trespasser #trespasser #nelke writes #nelke talks

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crackinglamb · 10 months

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Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category: F/M

Fandoms: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types

Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age) ,Solas (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s)

Characters: Solas|Fen'Harel, Rogue Inquisitor, Varric Tethras, Cassandra Pentaghast, Vivienne (Dragon Age), Sera (Dragon Age), Gereon Alexius, Dorian Pavus, The Iron Bull (Dragon Age), Blackwall (Dragon Age), Leliana (Dragon Age), Cullen Rutherford, Josephine Montilyet, Lace Harding, Cole (Dragon Age), Sky Watcher (Dragon Age), Wisdom (Dragon Age), Female Hawke (Dragon Age), Male Mahariel (Dragon Age), Morrigan (Dragon Age), Ameridan (Dragon Age), Felassan (Dragon Age)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Modern Girl in Thedas, not a self-insert, Non-Canon Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Diary/Journal, Alcohol, Swearing, Snark, Pining, Emotional Slow Burn, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends With Benefits To Lovers, Solas Being Solas (Dragon Age), Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, NOW WITH VISUALS, Pro-Elf, Pro-Mage, Anti-Orlais

COMPLETE!

Chapter 152 - Leaving, Leading, Living

“Will I move on? Will I go home?”

“I cannot answer that for you. Spirits do not die like mortals. Where one energy ends, another begins. Shall I stay with you for a while?”

“If you like.” There was no time, no measurable beat, either of her heart or the pulse of the earth. But Wisdom being with her made it all right. Made it companionable. She could feel her now, her presence like a hug, like a hand holding hers. So light, so insubstantial. But so present. She didn’t want to let go. “I'm not ready.”

“We rarely are, da'len.”

DAFF Crew Tags

@warpedlegacy, @rakshadow, @rosella-writes, @effelants, @bluewren, @breninarthur, @ar-lath-ma-cully, @dreadfutures, @ir0n-angel, @theluckywizard, @nirikeehan, @exalted-dawn-drabbles, @oxygenforthewicked, @mogwaei, @melisusthewee, @blarrghe, @agentkatie

#Lamb writes #dragon age inquisition #solas x ofc #what a wicked game to play #imogen mclean #solas #wisdom #IT'S FINALLY DONE!#all 411K words of it

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nirikeehan · 2 years

Note

heeeey happy friyay. here is a fluffuary prompt for u: “This Made Me Think of You” I'm thinkin for Thalia and Blackwall perhaps :o

Happy Friday Jay!! I combined this with another fluffy ask of yours:

and also this one from @rosella-writes

Fluff is hard, you guys.

OH AND also I took a cue from this headcanon post because it was too cute.

For @dadrunkwriting

WC: 581

---

“This made me think of you.”

Thalia had been walking with Blackwall through the forest for some time, a companionable silence between them. His abrupt speech shook her out of a reverie. He leaned against the base of a tree, dappled sunlight cutting across his chiseled face. A miniature wooden horse stood in the center of his outstretched palm: a remarkable replica of her Marches ranger, Puck.

“Blackwall!” Thalia gasped. “You made this.”

“So what if I did?” The Grey Warden’s expression was difficult to read, but mirth undergirded his tone.

“You were speaking as though you just found it lying around somewhere. May I?”

He nodded, and Thalia took it from him. She turned the statuette over in her hands. It was a little larger than a chess piece, but fit snugly in one fist. It was unpainted, but stained with a lacquer that made the polished wood shine. She ran her fingers over the tiny grooves that made out its mane, down its sturdy legs, along its proud snout. There were even tiny chisel marks that denoted its eyes.

She looked up at Blackwall and beamed. “You have incredible talent, ser.”

He shrugged. “It’s just something to remember me by.”

“Why?” Thalia teased. “It’s not like you’re going anywhere.”

As soon as she spoke, she wished she hadn’t. The light in his grey eyes dimmed. His smile, already so hard to spot under the beard, vanished. Thalia tightened her grip on the tiny horse.

“Blackwall?”

He cleared his throat, looked out amid the pines. “It’s dangerous work we do, my lady. It’s practical to consider the consequences of—”

She threw her arms around him, shocking them both. Blackwall broke off as she buried her face in his padded doublet.

“It pains me when you talk like that,” Thalia mumbled. “Like something bad is definitely going to happen to you.”

He tensed against her, and she worried he would extricate himself from her. He had already rejected her once. I’m fond of you, it’s true, but we can’t let this go any further. Her heart beat painfully against her ribcage.

Instead, he placed his hands on her back and pulled her into a tight hug. She let out a small breath of surprise, and dared not move, lest she tip him off to his mistake.

He pulled back, drawing fingers over her braided bun. He tucked a stray hair behind her ear and swallowed thickly, as if his voice was lodged in his throat. Thalia wanted to reach up, to touch his face, entwine her own fingers in his luxurious beard. Before she could, Blackwall leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead.

“It’s the reality of things,” he said hoarsely. “But I cherish the time we have together, fleeting as it may be.”

He moved away, leaving her with the phantom touch of his kiss and the sharp angles of the wooden horse digging into her palm. Breathing heavily, she turned to him, searching for words. He was already heading up the path to Skyhold with a purposeful stride. “Come on, now. We ought to be getting back, before it gets dark.”

Licking her lips, Thalia hurried along behind. The emotions she yearned to articulate evaporated unspoken on her tongue. It was enough, she told herself, to have these brief moments and small gestures. She was ready and willing to subsist on them, in the hopes that one day he might find himself capable of giving her more.

#fluffuary2023 #thalia trevelyan #blackwall #blackwall x trevelyan #it's so hard to write pure fluff when it's THESE TWO UGH #i tried tho i really did #fics #dragon age drunk writing circle

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a-driftamongopenstars · 6 months

Text

stay with me; inquisitor x blackwall ficlet

i think we all deserve some sleepy times with Blackwall and Inquisitor. brought to you by me being sleepy! also on ao3

Countless meetings in the war room, the weariness of travel, the midnight tinkering by the weapon table - all of it had to take a toll on the poor Inquisitor sooner or later. And Blackwall knows it has finally reached her when he finds his Lady fast asleep in a narrow alcove in one of Skyhold's many halls.

The moonlight softly shines on her face, casting shadows of the tall birches right outside. In her sleep, she is peaceful and untroubled.

Gently and with care, Blackwall kneels beside the Inquisitor and touches her hand.

She flinches, moves and blinks herself awake. What follows is a gentle smile that makes his heart ache with love.

"I must have..." she stammers, looking around. Her cheeks flush, her black hair fluffs in sleepy mess above her long pointed ears.

"Let me take you to your chambers, my Lady," Blackwall offers.

The Inquisitor concedes, her nimble fingers drowning in his palms, and allows him to guide her up the stairs.

Blackwall can tell by the drift of the moons that the hour is quite late. The stars twinkle in the dark sky, and so do the sparks inside the fireplace. It pains him to see how unlived the room looks. No scattered clothing, no signs of personal belongings and random trinkets. As if all of the Inquisitor's time and personality has been scattered across the war room and the whole of Orlesian map.

As she undresses, Blackwall stokes the fire. The warmth of it comforts him, makes him just as drowsy. He throws a few logs into the hungry flame, inviting it to be this night's protector.

"Blackwall?" the Inquisitor calls for him, and he turns. His eyes find his Lady beneath the heap of blankets for the winter's rest. Her eyes, sleepy and hopeful. "Stay with me?"

He approaches her and sits beside her. He has spent enough time with her in this very bed to render this question useless, yet every time she asks.

And every time, just like now, he says, "Of course I shall, my Lady."

The Inquisitor sleeps well that night. A long time, way past the farmers' rising, past the rooster's calls and even past the sunrise. Her head against Blackwall's chest, his arms around her frame. Nothing to disturb her rest, only the quiet gentle kisses that he presses against her forehead and awaits, awaits, awaits...

#dragon age #dragon age inquisitior #inquisitor x blackwall #warden blackwall #sylani lavellan #fanfiction #driftcreates #i am so eepy

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andrastesacredknickers · 3 months

Text

Rain and Jasmine

Summary: When he said goodbye to her at Haven he never thought he would see her again. Now there was a chance he could have more with her, to finally hold her in his arms, to be close to her. Eve told him that she cared about him.But she’d been drinking. Maybe she didn’t mean it. Maybe the rumors that she and Blackwall were still involved were true. Maybe this was all some elaborate idea he had made up in his head. But maybe…

While writing this I was listening to: Talk Too Much by COIN

'You know I talk too much. Honey, come put your lips on mine and shut me up'

Pairing: Cullen x Lavellan

Word count: 3.3K

Tags: fluff, comfort, first kiss, Cullen finally stopped fumbling

Find me on Ao3 here

“Well, I’m writing today off seeing as we’ve gone through,” Eve counted the bottles of wine on the table before her, swaying slightly. “Three bottles,”

“You and The Iron Bull went through three bottles. I had maybe a glass,” Dorian said with a huff, tracing his finger on the rim of his wine glass. Eve's head began to spin as she braced herself against the table, taking a deep breath. Perhaps drowning her sorrows in wine this early in the morning wasn't the best idea, considering she was the Inquisitor...

“You can put ‘em back, Boss. I’ll give you that,” Bull said with a hearty laugh, slamming a massive hand onto the table. Dorian shot him a nasty look, rolling his eyes and scooting farther away from the man beside him.

“I think it would be best if you took the rest of the day off. I’ll tell Ruffles you’re sick or something,” Varric said, eyeing Eve as she stood up, watching her nearly fall over. He helped her steady herself, raising an eyebrow at her.

“That’s probably a good idea,” Eve admitted, adjusting her tunic as her head spun from the wine.

“Do you need me to carry you to your room, Boss?” Bull asked, readying himself to stand up.

“What? Of course not,” Eve huffed, looking at the three men at the table. “I’m fine guys, I can handle a few bottles of wine,” the elf said, doing her best not to slur her words.

“If you say so,” Varric said, raising an eyebrow at her. The three men watched as Eve walked out of the tavern, seeing her hesitate at the door. The elf took a deep breath before heading in the opposite direction of where she was meant to be going.

“She’s going to do something stupid,” Varric mumbled, moving to stand. Dorian grabbed his arm, causing the dwarf to turn and face him.

“Let her. Maybe this is what she needed to finally talk to the man,” Dorian said, tilting his head as he looked at Varric. Varric looked back towards the door, letting out a loud sigh.

“If this goes poorly, I’m blaming it on you,” Varric said, sitting back down at the table.

“Give her a chance, surely it’ll be fine,” Dorian replied, leaning back in his chair. Varric shook his head, letting out a loud sigh.

“I’m getting too old for this,”

Eve made her way towards Cullen’s office, her head spinning. If the commander wasn’t going to step up and make the first move, she was going to do it. Dorian was right, it was obvious that Cullen felt something for her. Why else would he have spent all that time caring for her as she recovered from the incident at Haven? He didn’t leave her side for days according to Mother Giselle, refusing to allow others to take shifts at her side. She remembered waking up to find him asleep across from her, a book in his hands. She'd watch him sleep, the candlelight illuminating his features. That was when she knew she felt something more for the commander.

She had always been fond of him, though his past as a Templar made her weary. She and Cullen didn't always see eye to eye regarding the mages assisting the Inquisition. They had argued when she recruited the Grand Enchanter and her mages for the Inquisition's cause. He felt it was dangerous to have so many mages around without the assistance of Templar's due to the threat of possession. Eve felt that the mages deserved freedom just as anyone else did, and they needed to find a way. Though he didn't agree with her methods, Cullen always respected her decisions.

Eve knew now that this wasn't just some momentary infatuation, she cared for Cullen. Deeply. She hoped he felt the same way.

The Inquisitor looked up to find herself at the commander’s office, her heart pounding. She couldn't wait any longer, she needed to tell him how she felt.

What was the worst that could happen?

She pushed the door to his office open, finding him leaning up against his desk looking over a map. Eve stood for a moment, watching him from afar. His brow was furrowed, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as he mulled over the map. Eve took in the sight of him deep in thought. She rarely got to observe him without him seeing her first. Any time she stole a glimpse of the commander, he was already watching her. He’d avert his gaze, cheeks and ears blushing red, trying to hide a smile. She could watch him all day, the way his nose wrinkled when he was focused, a single wave of blonde hair falling from its normally pushed back style.

“Well hello, Commander,” Eve finally said, swaying slightly as she leaned up against the door frame to his office. Cullen looked up, immediately setting down the map in his hand, smiling at the mage. After a moment his smile dropped, observing Eve as she tried to remain steady on her feet.

“Eve… are you alright?” He asked, taking a step closer to her. She smiled at him, pushing herself off of the door frame and stumbling forward. Cullen rushed towards her, catching her by the shoulders as she fell. Eve hiccuped, laughing to herself as Cullen held her.

“I’m wonderful, actually," she said, looking up at him. You’re just the man I was looking for, in fact,” she continued confidently, puffing out her chest and straightening her posture.

As her gaze met his she was hit with sudden regret. What was she doing here? It wasn’t even noon yet and she was 3 bottles of wine deep getting ready to tell Cullen how she felt about him. Surely this was not the way to do things, surely seeing her this way would sour any feelings he might have. Her eyes darted to the ground as Cullen's hand remained on her shoulders, gently holding her still.

“I… am?” He asked, confused as he watched her carefully. She smiled at him sheepishly, her cheeks red from the wine. “Eve… Sweet Maker, are you drunk?” He asked, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Perhaps,” Eve mumbled, looking up at him. His eyes were golden brown, warm like honey. Why had she never noticed how beautiful his eyes were?

“You have great eyes, did you know that?” She said, swaying a bit. Cullen huffed, furrowing his brow as he looked at the elf.

“I… I do? I, uh. Thank you…” Cullen said, his hands still resting on her shoulders. After a moment he pulled away, realizing that he was still touching her. “May I ask why you’re drunk before noon?” Cullen asked, cocking his head to the side.

“It was Bull’s idea, said I needed to let off some steam,” Eve said sheepishly, her face turning more and more red. Cullen shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I see,” he said, doing his best to hide a smile. Eve cocked her head at him, narrowing her gaze.

“What?” She asked, her hands resting on her hips. Cullen chuckled, shaking his head.

“It’s nothing, though I am disappointed that Iron Bull let you leave the tavern in this state on your own,” Cullen said, walking towards the elf.

“I”m not in a ‘state’,” Eve huffed, folding her arms over her chest. “And Varric and Dorian were there too,” she said. Cullen laughed, approaching her and extending his arm.

“May I escort you to your room?” He asked, flashing her a warm smile. Eve froze, her gaze falling to his lips. What would he do if she kissed him, she wondered. Would he kiss her back? Would he let his hand fall to her waist, or maybe thread one through her hair? She snapped her eyes up to meet his, taking a deep breath before hooking her arm with his.

“Yes… thank you, Cullen,” Eve said, trying to regain her composure. “Let’s not tell Josephine about this, hmm? She’d be so angry with me,” Eve said as she and Cullen made their way towards her suite on the other side of Skyhold.

“Hah, yes let’s keep this our little secret,” Cullen replied, smiling to himself.

“Thanks again, Cullen. I… I don’t really know what to say,” Eve said as they approached the door to her room. She turned to face the commander, looking up at him. She wanted nothing more than to kiss him, to feel his lips against hers, his hands on her body.

“It’s nothing, really,” he said, adjusting his gloves. He smiled at her, dropping his gaze after a moment.

“It’s something to me,” Eve replied, taking a step closer to Cullen. She placed a hand on his cheek, rubbing her thumb against his cheekbone. He brought his gaze back to hers, taking a deep breath. Just as he was about to say something, Eve interrupted him.

“You mean something to me, Cullen. I just really care for you,” she blurted out. The mage felt her body grow cold, her eyes growing wide as soon as the words left her mouth. Cullen froze, looking down at her in shock. The two stared at each other for a moment, Eve’s hand still resting in the commander’s cheek.

“Creators help me,” Eve hissed, pulling away from him. “Thanks again,” she huffed out, quickly opening her door.

"Eve, I-" Cullen started, but Eve quickly slammed her door shut. She took a deep breath, resting her back against the door. The mage looked up at the ceiling, cursing to herself. “That was real smooth, Eve,” she mumbled, sliding down to the ground and pulling her knees up to her chest.

Cullen stood outside Eve’s room, his eyes wide as he stared at the door. Had that actually just happened? He had thought over and over how it might go for him to tell Eve how he felt. What he would say, how he would say it. Would he kiss her, embrace her? Would she kiss him back? Would she even want him? He wasn’t even sure she felt the same way, he was always convincing himself that he fabricated any possible connection between the two of them. And now here he stood, mouth hanging open as he replayed what had just happened. Cullen rested a hand against the door, letting his head hang.

“Curly?”

Cullen jumped at the voice, turning to see Varric walking down the hall towards him. He straightened up, clearing his throat.

“I… uh, yes. What is it, Varric?” He said, awkwardly adjusting his armor.

“What’re you doing?” Varric asked, an eyebrow cocked at the commander. He observed Cullen for a moment, noticing how flustered he was. A sly smile crossed the dwarf’s face as he approached Cullen.

“I brought the Inquisitor back, she was… a bit under the weather,” Cullen said, running a finger through his blonde hair.

“Yeah… under the weather…” Varric replied, his arms crossed over his chest. “Is she okay? Does she need anything?” He asked, watching Cullen attempt to regain his composure.

“Uh, no. I think she’s fine,” he said, turning to walk back down the hall. Cullen stopped, dropping his head. “Varric… can I ask you something?” He mumbled, turning back to face the dwarf.

“This ought to be good. Lay it on me, Curly,” Varric said with a chuckle, arms still crossed as he eyed the commander.

“Hypothetically speaking, if someone says something to you when they’re not of the right mind, do you think that means anything?” Cullen asked, shooting a glance back at Eve’s door. Varric laughed, walking up to Cullen and clapping a hand on his back.

“You’ll just have to ask her, now won’t you?” Said the rogue, shaking his head as he headed back towards the main hall of Skyhold.

“Right… ask her,” he said, watching as Varric made his way back down the hall. “I can do that…”

Cullen paced before the tavern, his mind racing. He’d been up all night thinking about Eve. He played back all of the times he could’ve told her how he felt. Thought about the nights he spent by her side as she recovered from Haven, watching her as she slept, hearing her mumble his name in her dreams. He had been the one to find her in the snow, his prayers answered as he held her close to him. When he said goodbye to her at Haven he never thought he would see her again. Now there was a chance he could have more with her, to finally hold her in his arms, to be close to her.

Eve told him that she cared for him.

But she’d been drinking. Maybe she didn’t mean it. Maybe the rumors that she and Blackwall were still involved were true. Maybe this was all some elaborate idea he had made up in his head. But maybe…

“Good morning, Curly,”

The commander turned to see Varric approaching him, a wide smile on the dwarf’s face.

“What’re you doing anxiously pacing in front of the tavern? You usually do that in your offfice,” said the dwarf, resting his hands on his hips.

“I, uh. I’m looking for the Inquisitor,” Cullen said, shifting uncomfortably under the rogue’s gaze.

“Well, seeing as she has breakfast here every morning at the same time, I'm assuming she's inside,” Varric chuckled, shaking his head as he made his way into the Herald's Rest. Cullen took a deep breath before following the rogue inside. Now that Varric had spotted him, there was no getting out of this.

He scanned the tavern, his eyes landing on Eve, her bright white hair tied up in her usual bun, head resting in her hands. Cullen felt a knot growing in his stomach as he took a deep breath, gathering all of the courage he could. Compared to this, being the commander felt easy. Wielding a shield and sword, no problem. Making decisions for the Inquisition's forces, easy. The potential of being rejected by the one person he truly cared for? Terrifying.

He walked over to Eve, gently resting a hand on her shoulder. “Inquisitor?” He said, holding his breath as he waited for her response.

Eve turned to face him, smiling awkwardly up at the commander.

“Oh, hi,” she said, looking at the hand on her shoulder.

She didn’t correct him for calling her Inquisitor. She always corrected him, even refusing to answer to Inquisitor at times. Cullen felt his stomach drop, nearly deciding to abandon his whole plan. He steeled himself, letting out a puff of air and squeezing her shoulder.

“Eve would you… well, would you want to take a walk with me?” He finally said, his hand remaining on her shoulder. Eve nodded, the tips of her ears and cheeks beginning to blush.

“Yes, I’d like that,” she said as Cullen moved his hand from her shoulder. She turned her body in her chair to face him fully, smiling up at him. Cullen's face grew warm, he loved her crooked smile and the way her eyes glinted. He realized after a moment that she was staring at him, her head cocked to the side and an eyebrow raised.

“Oh… great!” he replied, letting out a sigh of relief. Eve chuckled to herself, flashing Varric a wide eyed smile as she got up from the table.

“I told you that you would be fine, Lucky,” Varric said, winking at the elf. She narrowed her gaze, subtly shaking her head at him.

"Shall we?" Eve said, looking over to Cullen. He nodded, taking a step back to allow Eve to get on her feet. She pressed her hand to her temple, groaning.

"Headache?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Something like that," she replied, making her way towards the exit to the tavern. Eve stood in the sun for a moment, raising her head to the sky with her eyes closed. Cullen watched her, feeling the knot in his stomach grow as he took in her features. Her freckles and blushed cheeks glowed in the morning sun, her eyelashes snow white and impossibly long.

"Sorry, I just love the sun," Eve said after a moment, looking over to Cullen.

"I love... me too," he stuttered, his face growing warm. He was going to mess this up, wasn't he?

The pair walked in silence for a while, Cullen trying his best to nonchalantly lead them towards the armory. He didn't exactly want to have this conversation in front of everyone at Skyhold.

"Did you sleep well?" Cullen asked as he approached the door, turning to face Eve.

"What do you think, Commander?" Eve mumbled, rubbing her forehead. He chuckled to himself, resting his hand on the door handle to the armory.

"Can we talk? In private?" he asked, looking over to Eve. The elf's eyes darted to the ground as she kicked at a weed in the dirt.

"I suppose," she mumbled, following behind Cullen as he walked into the armory. Cullen allowed Eve to enter, closing the door behind him.

“About yesterday,” Cullen said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Eve let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Can we just forget that ever happened?” Eve asked, feeling her cheeks growing warm as she looked down at the ground.

Cullen didn't want to forget. He wanted to tell her he'd been waiting to hear those words for months. He wanted to tell her that before she spoke the night before, he was getting ready to say the same thing. To tell her that he cared for her, that he wanted something more. The commander approached her, lifting her chin so that she would look at him.

“What if I don’t want to?” he said, studying her expression.

“You… really?” She asked quietly, furrowing her brow. Cullen felt his stomach flip, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. The commander leaned down for a kiss, his hand now resting against the elf's neck. As he did, Eve dropped her gaze, his lips colliding his her forehead.

"I, I'm sorry, I thought-" he started, a rush of embarrassment running through him, making his body feel warm. Of course he had misread things. How could he be so stupid as to think the Inquisitor truly felt something for him. Just as he went to pull away, his cheeks flushed red, Eve stopped him.

"You think too much," She whispered, grabbing his face in her hands and pressing her lips to his.

Cullen felt a fire ignite in his chest as his lips were pressed to Eve’s. She smelled of fresh rain and jasmine, her lips warm and soft. He felt her tangle her hands into his hair, moving her lips against his. Cullen placed his hands on her hips, pushing her back against the edge of a table. He pulled away, gaze darting from her lips to her eyes.

“Wow,” Eve breathed, looking up at the commander through her long, white eyelashes. Cullen couldn’t help the smile on his face, feeling his heart beating heavily in his chest. He had wanted to do that for months, it felt unreal.

“I, uh. That was… really nice,” Cullen said, his hands still resting on her hips. Eve laughed, tilting her head to the side, her gaze falling back to his lips.

“I believe that was a kiss, Commander,” said the mage, pulling him towards her. He pressed his forehead to hers, laughing to himself, their noses touching. Cullen pressed his lips to Eve's once more, pulling her as close as he could.

There was so much working against them. The fate of Thedas was resting on their shoulders. But together, he felt as if they could do anything.

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baku-usagi · 2 years

Text

interpersonal hygiene

a one shot fanfiction

pairings:blackwall/F!trevelyan

summery: Lady Trevelyan decides to try and help romanced blackwall get the others to stop calling him unhygienic and it gets a little steamy

CW:smut, Fluff, mostly smut

(Authors note:I wrote this in like 4 hours flat and its just a lot of sex and softness :;T so ya know hope you enjoy or whatever. blackwall in my head is not stinky, or dirty, he just smells like men smell which i personally enjoy)

Lady Trevelyan made her way down the stairwells from her room into the common room of skyhold, passing by the mighty throne she used to judge those who had transgressed against the inquisition and managed to survive, with slight butterflies she worked her way down the steps toward the stables, which sat in the soft glow of afternoon light just over the path.

She could hear the soft nickering of the horses and the chuffs of the other mounts faintly as her soft steps quickened.

the horse master tended the horses, and just past him, leaning against the edge of the door, was Blackwall. The sun hit his raven hair casting almost blue hues from his locks, his cheeks retained soft, warm color from the weather, his lips slightly chapped.

He hadn’t noticed her approach yet, he seemed to be having short, polite conversations with the horse master about proper riding technique, and what saddles made for better long distance travel.

He was so handsome, she could feel her stomach tighten and her cheeks flush, her gaze passing over the plush of his tunic that she knew hid his taunt, muscular arms, his hands calloused from years of wielding a sword waved about in his description of some type of leather or another to the horse master.

He paused as she got closer, his face lighting up with a soft, and welcoming smile that cut through the harsh edges of his normal resting expression.

Maker, his eyes were so kind.

“My lady” he greeted her, his voice holding a secretive lilt that suggested flirtation.

“Inquisitor” the horse master greeted as well. “I hope I’m not being a bother,” she said, her own voice sounding girlish and awkward in her ears.

“I just need to borrow your conversation partner for a moment” Blackwall raised an eyebrow at her thoughtfully, though she saw it from the corner of her vision as her gaze was still set on the horse master “Of course. Whatever you need him for I’m sure it's more important than our idle chit chat” In a way she wondered if that was true, given that her plans were more for leisure, not so much more business.

She nodded, unable to find her voice in a way that wouldn’t reveal her giddiness. She tried terribly hard to remain put together, a leader who didn’t feel nervousness, a respectable leader.

She tilted her head to Blackwall now “if you don’t mind” she offered, gesturing for him to walk with her in a sweep of her arm toward the keep

“As you wish, my Lady”. His tone was once again, restricted, a wave of curiosity just beneath the obedience.

Once they had gotten out of ear shot, he broke the silence of their walk “is everything ok? I haven’t done something to get you in trouble I hope”

She laughed a bit at that “perish the thought, I just have a surprise planned for you”

She had no idea if it was purposeful or not, but he had drifted closer to her, his footsteps in tandem with her own like a soldier's march, his shoulder almost touching hers.

She could feel the warmth radiating off him, the soft salty smell of sweat on his uniform, with the underlying smell of him taking her over as they walked through the doors of the keep.

He was a rugged man, he kept his hands surprisingly clean, nails trimmed and washed beneath, but past this, he did tend to carry a layer of sweat and grime from the hard days work.

His hair was a little greasy, and, as she’d noticed before, his lips chapped. Oh but to stop him for a kiss here in this open space, to press her lips to his as if that would heal them.

She could hear Lady Vivienne chastising her for her image, trying to kiss Blackwall in the middle of a crowded room like hapless schoolyard lovers.

Despite his level of unkempt, she found he didn’t smell, not bad at least. A little like sweat, hay, and smoke, a woodsy and masculine scent she enjoyed more often than not. It often had the undercutting of flowers, he was so quick to interact with nature, to bring a bloom to his face, or a bundle of wild flowers to her door.

“I’ve no problem going wherever you need to take me” he spoke, the curiosity peaking more now “but it feels a bit…uncouth to walk unchaperoned to your quarters for all eyes to see”

She knew some of the general public would take notice of them walking to her room, but most of the general public did know they were together, scandals be damned if she wanted time alone with him without the smell of horses. “We aren’t children” she nudged him gently with her elbow.

Before she could elaborate further, one of the servants met her at the end of the stairwell that led to her quarters. “Ah my lady, perfect timing” they chimed, seeming to flush at noting blackwalls presence. “I’ve finished with the preparations like you asked, should you need anything else, feel free to give the bell a ring”

“Thank you, your work is appreciated” Trevelyan smiled softly, stepping away from Blackwall to make space for the servant to leave, before leading Blackwall up the stairs.

“Now I am really curious” he quipped as he walked, his hand snaking around to find hers, wrapping her fingers to lace between his. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears, hoping that the initial surprise wouldn’t be a let down, or worse, offensive.

They walked through the main room, past the bed. She opened another door, and the soft humidity and floral scents immediately filled the air.

There was a pause as she formulated how to properly announce the occasion, but he spoke before she could “a bath, my lady?” he seemed to be flushed, almost embarrassed and she bit her lip, wincing at the hint of hurt on his face.

“I was hoping we could…together” she cleared her throat. “I’m sorry if that was presumptuous, you work hard and I thought I could, you know…”

He stepped to her now, not in hostility but fast enough to cause her to stumble back, against the open door that bounced a bit at her weight, but only for a moment because he was there just as quickly, strong hand steadying the door in a vice grip, his face close to hers and his breath on her lips.

“My lady” his voice was soft “i would be a fool to reject such an invitation and one so thoughtfully prepared” he brushed his thumb against her cheek, pressing her face into his palm as he closed the gap.

She felt a moan escape her throat, her embarrassment swallowed up by the feeling of his chapped lips, and his mustache tickling at her nose.

He deepened the kiss, tilting her head back further with his hand, and offering his tongue against her teeth.

She parted them, running her own tongue against his with jolts of exuberance. He tasted amazing.

He pulled away, breathing a bit heavy.

“Shall we?” she offered after catching her breath.

“Of course” he spoke even as he began disrobing.

Oh maker, fuck. His body glistened, a mixture of sweat and steam from the tub, the hair on his arms and chest twisted in adorable little curls from the dampness.

He paused as he noted her appraisal, holding his uniform balled up in his hands.

“My lady, I know the others seem to think..well you know they’ve commented about it before so-” he was a bit awkward now, fidgeting with the fabric “ I do my best to stay..” he pauses again, his face a bit flushed. “I’ve been on my own for so long now it didn’t really matter but, when you started to..see me, like that, I..”

“I don’t care what the others say” she spoke with a laugh interrupting his attempts to convey his fears of being unhygienic for her. “but-” her tone grew soft “I do worry how it might bother you, for them to pick at how you keep yourself and I figured, yes, you’ve been on the road so long, who knows when you last had the chance to pamper yourself…” she bit her lip, “or be pampered” she offered, allowing herself the chance to languish looking him up and down.

He seemed to unravel into putty, his tension melting away as he let out a heavy emotional sigh. “Oh thank the maker” he breathed running a hand through his hair to slick it back further. “My lady, you are too good for me. He walked back to her side, dropping his uniform and pulling at the buttons of her top, popping them with concentration. She could watch the muscles move in his forearms as his fingers deftly pulled her outerwear open.

The fabric rested softly on either side of her breasts, her own skin damp with sweat from the day. He seemed to sink down as he undid the last button, kissing her sternum, down to her belly button. He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin just below her belly button now, looking up at her with adoration.

“I have had little time to focus on bathing rituals beyond the basics” he spoke, his facial hair and breath tickling her skin with every word “but if this is what it can be like” he kissed her hip, his eyes darting up at her from beneath his eyelashes “I would soak away your pains, your guilt” she replied softly “I would have you here with me like this, every day, to feel comfort”

The words were embarrassing but true, and she felt her core tighten with desire as he let out a rumble, one that vibrated against her skin from his throat.

“You spoil me. I cannot repay this ""I can think of a way or two” she smirked now,running her hand through his hair, giving it a firm grasp at the back, forcing his head back so he was looking up at her. He let out a soft needy chuckle “I can think of nothing i’d want more”

She allowed her shoulders to fall, her top rustling to the ground, even though the room was warm, and humid she felt her nipples harden at the touch of the air.

“Finish undressing?” a command disguised as a question “as you wish my lady” he breathes.

She releases his hair before stepping out of her pants. When she finished undressing, she turned to see him wiggling his boots and pants off as well.

Down to the last bit of pant leg, he was standing right next to the tubside, trying to lean on it for balance, she sauntered to him,grabbing a part of the pant leg with one hand, he looked at her a bit confused before she pushed him playfully into the tub, the soapy, petal laden water sloshing about as he slipped in, his pants still in her hands.

She laughs hard as he emerges, long black hair strewn about his face. “Ha ha” he quips, after a gasp of air

“It wouldn’t be so funny if i’d clonked my head and drowned now would it” he tries to sound serious, but a real laugh prickled its way through his last few words.

“I’ve watched dragonlings wallop you upside the head harder than you would have hit the tub” she retorted as her laughter died down.

He watched her with a warm smile for a moment, a devious look flashing his gaze before fast as lightning, he reached out pulling her in after him by the wrist. “Oh blackwall wait- no-”she tried to protest but was swiftly dunked into the hot water next to him, emerging with a gasp of her own.

“Now that's just- I am your inquisitor you know you can’t just go du-” he kissed her, pulling her body to his. It was now that she could feel how hard he was against her thighs as she mumbled one last protest into his lips, before returning the kiss, pulling herself even closer, their chests flush to one another. His chest hairs soft against her breasts, he clumsily grasped for the edge of the tub as he propped her beneath him in the water, her arms tangled around his neck holding her afloat.

They parted and stared at one another, he pressed his forehead to hers and she felt a droplet of water hit her cheek,she looked to see it was in fact a tear.

“Thom?” she inquired softly. “I’m sorry” he laughed, his voice thick with emotion. “I am just. Maker, it's embarrassing but I’m so happy, you make me so happy I- I would have never dreamed a man like me could have… this” he looked about, her, the tub, the room even as he tried to pinch the tears back. “I’ve spent so long running from my past, and I deserved punishment for my cowardice, but somehow the makers blessed me with my whole future” he shakily grabbed one of her hands, shifting his hips beneath hers to help her stay afloat, before pressing her hand to his heart which pounded wildly. “You’re my whole future”

She felt tears burgeoning at her own eyes now. “I’ve made you cry now” he stated flatly, “what good am I right?” he tried to jest.

She shook her head and let out a half laugh “Oh Thom, you keep on about how you don’t deserve me but” she paused, allowing more tears to slip “It is I, who feels they don’t deserve you. You my loyal, my faithful, you who would follow me to the end.”

He nodded “if you’ll let me” he added, “even if no one else does”

“Oh enough of this” she scoffed, her smile coming back full force, and with it his as well in all its radiance “the waters gonna get cold.” she grabbed at the cloth folded neatly on the tray beside the tub, and one of the expensive orlesian washing soaps.

“Turn around” she demanded even as she lathered the soap into the cloth” he raised an eyebrow but obeyed, releasing her reluctantly to turn, resting his weight on his knees folded beneath him.

She took the cloth to his back, scrubbing him gently before passing it forward to him to get his chest while she messaged the lather into his shoulders and back with her hands.

She could feel the years of knotted muscles from sleeping in armor, on hard forest floors,and she wanted to work it away, she kissed the back of neck softly, and he let out a sigh.

“My lady..”he asked softly

“Yes?” she responded as she grabbed the shampoo.

“I want to touch you” he spoke as if he was mentioning the weather, normal and even, but the words burned her ears.

She didn’t respond and he didn’t move, allowing her to continue working the shampoo through his hair.

“Lady Trevelyan. Please” he spoke again, his voice thick with desire and passion.

“Wait, “ she replied softly. He grimaced as she retrieved one of the many buckets of heated water off the grate of coals that kept them warm, dumping it over his head slowly as she worked the shampoo out.

His eyes were closed, and he had shifted to having his legs in front of him. Bent at the knees which he had one of his forearms rested against.

As She repeated the process with the conditioner, she noticed the soft movement of his other arm beneath the water. Andraste's knickers, was He touching himself? She dismissed it as him simply cleaning, but she could feel herself getting hot even as she began brushing the conditioner through his hair with a comb, reaching around from behind him to massage the conditioner into his beard as well.

He tried to stifle a little moan, her hands in his beard and her breasts pressed against his back as she worked, she rested her lips on his shoulder. Watching his arm beneath the water still a bit and tense.

At this point, she drained the old water, watching Blackwall shift a bit in the cold air, moving both hands to rest on his knees.

She had asked in advance for the servants to heat plenty of water for rinsing. She stepped from the tub, feeling his eyes watching her intently, hearing his breathing hitch as the light from outside bounced off the glossy wetness of her body.

She had bathed this morning and didn’t truly need the scrub down, but would still need to rinse the soapy water away from them both.

“Stand for me, please” she inquired, he hesitated and she tilted her head curiously.

“I am..” he started clearing his throat “In a state.”

“Are you hurt? Was the water too hot before?” she asked worriedly.

“Hah, no my lady, I should be so lucky.” he stood as he said this and she was met with what she knew had been present most of the evening, a raging hard on.

He cleared his throat again, trying to shift a bit. Lady Trevelyan watched it throb for but a moment, interrupted by him saying “It's not the worst feeling to have you inspect me, my lady but I am at my wits end here, if I could be so bold as to ask again-” he swallowed heavily “to touch you”

She was enamored by this, here he was, clearly aroused, needy, and instead of trying to touch himself he wanted to touch her? Although he may have indulged a bit earlier in the tub anyway, she was sure it hadn’t been to satisfaction.

Oh maker, she was just as aroused and needy though.

She passed him one of the buckets of water, stepping back into the tub with him.

“Rinse off, and then” she placed a hand on his chest “rinse me off after?”

Though this was truly a request and not a command, she knew it was like giving the hounds permission to hunt.

He wanted it almost as much as she did.

As he slowly poured the water down himself, watching her intently, she used her hands to brush away any residue left behind shaking away the conditioner from his hair and beard, his lips stealing a kiss at her palm, she watched his muscles stiff and tense as she caressed his skin, his breathing harsh through his nose as she moved down.

Her hands landed on his hips, at the base of his erection and he swore, his hips giving a small involuntary twitch.

She met his eyes and she applied a grip, “sweet Andraste” he gasped out, trying to steady himself, he found nothing but her, and rested his head upon her shoulder, his hot breath rushing across her skin tantalizingly.

She wanted to tease him more, but his water bucket was empty and before she could move to grab her own, his bucket was dropped, and his large hand had wrapped over hers around his cock.

He didn’t ask, nor did he wait, he pulled her closer with his free hand, and set the pace for them as he stroked himself with her hand.

“Fuck.” she swore, rubbing her thighs together in search of friction even as their joined hands granted him plenty.

“I’m sorry” he managed to breathe, though the motion didn’t stop.

“What for?” she managed to whimper back. He laughed, a pathetic laugh as he bucked his hips into their hands, before abruptly stopping.

“Your-your turn to be rinsed, yes?” he managed softly, gently licking his lips and looking upward as if pleading for strength before releasing her hand from his and placing both of his hands behind his back firmly with great effort.

They stood there like that for a moment, him standing defenseless, hands clasped together hard dick bouncing ever so slightly with his ragged breaths.

She watched him carefully as she grabbed her own bucket of water.

He stepped closer to her, his dick pressing against her lower stomach as she began dumping the water, his hands mimicking hers from earlier, scrubbing away any remaining soap on her skin.

He cupped her breasts now, and she inhaled sharply, his calloused fingers being gentle, as if he was afraid for a moment he hurt her, before firmly squeezing.

She let out a little moan and he smirked at her, pulling his grip from the whole of her tits down to the nipples which he languished in gently pinching and pulling.

He bucked his hips a bit as he moved his hands down her stomach. His hands were so large and strong, they made her feel small as he gripped her hips now, tightly.

“Fuck me” she hissed. It was more of a curse then a demand but the response was immediate

He pulled her to him, kissing her hard and desperate, drinking her in as his teeth nipped on her lips.

His tongue pressed into her mouth and she suck at it,

As she did he grasped her by the arse and hoisted her up, her womanhood resting firmly on his stomach.

He carried her from the bathroom, still damp to the bed.

“Maker you’re so wet” he practically snarled into her mouth, their noses pressed together as they breathed one another in.

“I want you” she responded “i’ve always wanted you and only you” her voice was high, breathy, her words dripping out on soft moans as she found herself grinding against his stomach.

“Wet for me” he says it with the lilt of a question, though it required no answer, before collapsing them both to the bed.

“You drive me wild. You are confounding. I Look at you and i ache for want to be buried inside you though it’s more than i deserve” his hands push her legs away from his, one hand remaining to grip the softness of her thigh, the other planting firmly palm down on her pelvis, his thumb drawing little soft circles on her hard clit.

She arches into the sensation

“And to see you, this desperate for me as well?”

He laughs low in his throat. “To see you this needy”

He pauses, as if holding his breath while he continues to flick and rub at her, reading her body language carefully.

“Am I doing well, my lady?” his voice is a whine, he begs to be told. “Yes” she barely manages to choke out, bucking her hips into his touch as best she can while his palm firmly holds her in place.

“It feels good” she sounded strangled, looking at him through heavy eyes. “Tell me you feel the same as me” he demands.

“I look at you, and I ache for you to be buried inside me” she manages to keen,

“Please”

He seems taken over then, throwing her leg over his shoulder, his movements clumsy and desperate, he grips her other hip in his hand and guides himself to her.

He pauses once more, brow furrowed in concentration. He squeezes his eyes shut

“I don’t want to hurt you so just..tell me this is what you want, but know if you do you will have it, nothing withheld”

she could hear the mild threat behind that, what all he had to give her.

Her silence must have worried him because he added “and if it is not, I will compose myself, my lady and we can move at a slower pace”

Even as he said it his eyes burned with desire.

“I want this, nothing withheld” she managed, feeling the butterflies in her stomach flip with anticipation.

He was still for but a moment before slamming himself into her, shooting little stars across her vision.

“Makers breath” she shouted, arching her back into the thrust. She could see, looking down at herself how connected they now were at the hip. He didn’t give her anymore time to process this before he started to move.

This was not the first time they’d had sex, the first time was tentative, needy, guilty in her room and then desperate in the barn.

What they’d both wanted, his apprehension shedded like a robe as he had made love to her.

This was somehow so much the same and yet so much different.

His strokes were not a goodbye, not one last passionate burnout. They were desperate to claim her as deep as their fragile mortal forms would allow for, they were wild and animalistic.

They did not hold “one last time” in their feeling, instead they felt of “may this moment never end, to this be our eternity”

She hadn’t even noticed how loudly she moaned and begged, a thousand “please” falling from her lips between rapid kisses.

Her vision went fuzzy as he leaned into her more, pulling her leg higher over his shoulder and baring his weight down into her.

She could vaguely register his moans as well, his mumbling prayers to the maker, as he gripped her leg and her hip hard enough to bruise, with reckless abandon. Something about him, her soft protector, her shield in battle, grasping her so hard, renouncing her as any kind of ‘fragile’ in this moment, drove her wild.

“You feel so amazing” he snarled, his face resting in her neck, “maker I want to-” his words trailed off into a moan and he leaned back, slowing his pace but pressing in hard with each languid thrust.

Lady Trevelyan gasped for air rolling her hips to meet his thrusts.

He placed his hand once more over her swollen clit ,watching himself go in and out of her swollen, wet cunt.

he matched the pace once more with his thumb on her clit, “do you hear the way we sound together” he asked, his voice almost sadistic. “Sweeter than any chantry choir hearing how wet you are for me.” she couldn’t respond with more than a nod, soft, quick moans still pushing past her lips. “Tell me i'm yours” he demanded, keeping his pace on her clit even as she tried to roll her hips faster, twitching as her core tightened more and more, the pleasure that had been rolling through her starting to build.

“You’re mine” she snarled, her cunt twitching and squeezing around him.

“Fuck” he barked, shaking as he tried to keep a slower pace.

“My lady,” he moaned. “my lady, my lady.”

“Thom I’m-” she could hardly breathe, she was so close now.

“Don’t stop please” she managed to choke out

“You make me feel so good, please don’t stop, I'm so close” she was all but weeping the words, and this seemed to make it even harder for him to remain on pace.

“Come on my cock then, be good to me once more yeah?” It was almost a taunt, and he increased his speed just a bit.

His name spilled from her lips, alternating between moans and pleading. “Thom please please” she managed, gripping at his hips and lower back, then his shoulders, digging her nail in deep “don’t do that or-” he tried to protest, applying just a touch more pressure with his thumb.

“Oh fuck I’m coming” she whimpered, words strangled as her whole body clenched like a vice grip, nails rending open Blackwalls back and shoulders

He swore again, fucking her harder and faster then before, if that was even possible, through her orgasm, causing much to her suprise a second orgasm to roll in after the first, though the second was ridden out in perfect stillness as his own orgasm had quickly followed.

Blackwall was not even breathing, face flushed and mouth slightly parted as he’d buried himself to the hilt inside of her, his cock twitching within her spasming core.

He shakily shifted her leg from off his shoulder and fell on top of her now.

Both breathing harder than after their battle with the dragon in the hinterlands, they rolled to the side, him still inside her

His hands weakly caressed her back. Her face was in his chest. He smelled of flowers and orlesian soap.

After a few moments, he carefully dislodged himself from inside her, now more flaccid though not entirely soft and they lay in stillness, tangled limbs for what felt like an eternity.

Later that evening, Lady Trevelyan stood, sore, speaking to her advisors in the war room. Trying her hardest not to show the amount of tender she felt.

“- and More venatori sightings than ever here” cullen was finishing a report that Trevelyan hadn’t really been focusing on. Flashbacks of just three hours prior continued to interject in her thoughts. How Blackwall had felt inside her.

“Inquisitor” Cullen snapped her out of it.

“Yes, I’ll take Dorian to check it out as soon as possible.”

“Say, Josephine,” Leliana asked, though she was looking directly at the inquisitor. “Isn't that smell similar? Josephine sniffed “ah the inquisitor's soap! Yes thats-” she cut off flushing deeply “that is what smelled different about blackwall this afternoon”

Cullen raised an eyebrow, “well it’s a good bit better then how he smelled before from what i hear” Leliana said playfully.

“He smelled like all men smell before” Trevelyan tried defeated, “besides nothing wrong with lending soap, maybe I’ll order some extra for him.”

“I’ve heard that specific soap is pretty good for cuts and scrapes too.” Leliana smirked “ironbull tried to clap him on the back earlier and he yelped like a terrified nug, must have been some fight he got into”

Cullen sighed “if you and Blackwall are happy that's what matters, inquisitor, you don’t have to hide your feelings for him, not here at least.”

“Exactly!” Josephine chips in.

“The whole world is at stake. Enjoy the little moments you can have with him.”

“Like sharing soap,” Leliana added.

“Alright alright.” The inquisitor brushed them off, shaking her head as she left the war table.

She found herself walking once more to the stables, to see black wall chipping away at a block of wood.

When he noticed her approaching he smiled, inclining his head softly “my lady”.

She sat beside him wordlessly, resting her head on his shoulder as he continued to carve. While the floral smell of the orlesian soap was still vaguely present, he smelled how she liked, smoke, hay, wood shavings and sweat.

His hair was pushed back and tousled, a handsome and charming look making her think of her companions telling him to brush his hair.

What silly comments. She nestled in closer, wrapping her arms around his arm as he continued to carve, taking in the peace while she could before whatever would get thrown at them next.

#Fanfiction #Dragonage #CW smut #CW sex #cw hair pulling #blackwall x inquisitor #blackwall x trevelyan #Blackwall #thom rainier #dragon age inquisition #I tried to just not describe the inquisitor so everyone can project how they want

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