#lavellan!reader

[mx-pastelwriting]

DA HC - Celebrating Your Anniversary

Dragon Age x GN! Reader

Summary: How they would celebrate your anniversary.

Warnings/Tags: Established Relationship, Fluff, Anniversary, Kissing, Dates, Fancy Dinners, Camping

Characters: Solas, Varric Tethras, Cullen Rutherford, Iron Bull, Thom Ranier (Blackwall), Lucanis Dellamorte, Emmrich Volkarin, Lace Harding

- Didn't proofread much. I just slammed them into three grammar checkers, so have fun!

Solas

- Solas would remember your anniversary, but even if he didn't, you wouldn't know, as he makes every day with you feel as if it were your anniversary. Being his, finally his, he makes sure you know he has only eyes for you. Making sure you feel that he is yours, you are his.

- Yearly anniversaries, but monthly anniversaries, are not off the table. Taking the yearly dates more seriously, with monthly being a day of finding little surprises in places that are common to you. Leaving your favorite things in those spots, seeing as his face is plastered with a huge smile once you bring the gifts to his attention when finding them.

- The yearly anniversaries would be him worshiping you like a god, more than usual, of course. Almost refuses to have you lift a finger as he fills the day with surprises. Waking to the room being filled with glowing magic, spelling out your name and words of love, with the afternoon being filled with scenic views with shows of ancient elven magic. Ending the day with dinner and a slow dance, holding your body close, warming more than your cheeks, before playing a few songs that he composed on the piano, inspired heavily by his love for you.

- Never will he miss your anniversary but has a chance of forgetting it. In his mind, doing things with a bit of extra love to make it up to you out of guilt does things with extra love and care. Though with enough time or love, you could get the confession of his slip of the mind, knowing he couldn't lie when it comes to you.

- Making the days of your anniversary feel like they last forever; once Solas starts, he can't bear to stop loving your smile. Swearing the smile you wear once that date comes around is different, as much as you plead for him to let you spoil him back. Even when giving in to your pleas, he always finds a way to spoil you right back just to see that smile.

Setting down a plate of Orlesian frilly cakes in front of Solas, making him look up from his notes with pointed ears twitching. Greeted lovingly by a pair of violet eyes, seeing as Solas's eyes crease from the smile that stretched across his lips.

With a swift action, his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you in. Body pressed against his chest, thanking you with kisses that tickled your skin, making you squirm in his hold. Stopping the attack, watching him pull something from under his notes, Solas's eyes watched closely as your face lit up at his gift. Soaking in the smile that lined your lips, hoping it would last forever.

-

Varric Tethras

- Most of the time he would remember it's your anniversary, joking about it in bed, cuddled up warmly if he had remembered what day it was. Dances around the answer if he had forgotten, but eventually, you'd get it out of him that he did forget with a reminder it was only morning, and he has the whole day to make you forget he ever did.

- Celebrate your yearly and monthly anniversaries, though monthly ones are more spotty in celebration. Knowing if he remembers those when finding papers around the place that tell short stories of all the times he found himself falling in love with you all over again.

- Yearly anniversaries would be Varric trying his best to be the perfect man, with halfway through the day he gives up going back to being the man you love instead of an overly romantic guy that takes you to fancy restaurants. When all you want is to just be with him drinking and have Varric chew off your ear with stories that you’ve heard millions of times, but you’d never tell him that.

- Has missed your anniversary at least once since you've been together. A day filled with apologies and his mood being a bit down, trying his best to make it up to you. Gifting you things over the day. Little things that he says remind him of you, giving you a first read of your favorite book series of his, and rare home-cooked dinners.

- Varric is always sweet on you, even after your anniversary. The tender moments don't stop, though the moments are now filled with more jokes than before he loves you just as much as he does during your anniversary, now with more jokes filling those moments.

Watching Varric adoring every smile and face scrunch he pulled while telling you a story he's told you a hundred times, never telling him that fact, though, taking it as an opportunity to just watch him.

Soaking in his mere existence, every smile, frown, and furrow of his brow. Every move makes your mind melt as you're reminded why you feel head over heels for the man. That is until he catches you staring, breaking your longing stare with a charming kiss on the cheek.

-

Cullen Rutherford

- Very spotty when it comes to remembering it's your anniversary, but you give him grace, as most of the time he has a lot on his plate. Reminding him gently every morning on that date it's your anniversary, with a quick curse to himself, he tries to play it off just to panic for the rest of the morning trying to think and plan something for that day.

- Cause of his busy schedule, he prefers to celebrate yearly, but if he's reminded, a gift might end up on your desk or nightstand. Even with the yearly dates, he still has to do some work but tries to plan around it days before if he remembers days before.

- Once Cullen's done with work, he asks shyly for you to dress nicely; that is unless you have something for him once he comes out of his office. Then he stays in the whole night. But if you don't, he takes you away riding on a horse with the sunset in the background, just to arrive at the most breathtaking place. Having packed wine and cheese, wanting to share the sunset with you, telling you of how it reminded him of you and the first night he held you close.

- Having missed your anniversary from being on the battlefield commanding an army or locked away in his office, stumped with letters to write. Walking into the office to find him stressed or just passed out on the desk, ink staining his face when you wake him. Dragging him to bed, letting the commander get some sleep before spoiling him as you remind him what day it is, queuing the flood of apologies.

- The celebration of your anniversary would only last a day and a half, with Cullen being busy and all; he still tries to make up for the lost time from work. Stealing kisses from you the next day, along with leaving little letters or gifts he tucked away in your pockets early in the morning, to then get all shy when you mention them.

Walking into Cullen's office, seeing as he was noise-deep into writing a letter, someone who was not you having the note he had written to you in hand.

Spooking the commander as you sat atop the desk corner, meeting his amber eyes, watch and the rush of surprise disappear before softening at the sight of you—that is until he sees that piece of paper in your hand. Cullen's cheeks flash red as he looks off to the side, laughing nervously, having written the letter in a moment of passion. Needing a few glasses of drinks to get those words out of him without him stuttering and getting all blushy.

-

Iron Bull

- Qunari don't have anniversaries, so he would remember, as he doesn't practice or have a deep grasp on the celebration. Only having you to learn about it and to even start celebrating it. Even after that, he tries to remember wanting to see you smile.

- Would start either monthly or yearly depending on your preference, but monthlies are a good start, letting him have practice on what to do and what not to do and say. Gets the hang of the physical part of surprising, not so much on the gift-giving, bringing you parts of a dragon or even the whole thing to display somewhere, swearing to yourself if he didn't have horns, he'd be a cat.

- For the first few anniversaries, you would be planning until one day, months before the date, he asked to plan that year. Holding out hope, it wasn't a day of fighting wild beasts he thought were cool, but he surprised you with a night filled with breathtaking views only seen at night and creatures that light up in the darkness of the night. Ending the event at his favorite place to cool off, a hidden-away spring where bugs and creatures glowed around, thriving alongside your love for the bull.

- Misses your anniversary in the start, giving the hunk of a man some grace as this is new to him, coming from a culture that they don't even know who they are related to. Gently reminding the man he would be apologetic, of course, then for the rest of the day, having asked Krem what to do, he tells Bull to make it up to you. Surprising you with flowers and some gifts, with a shower of kisses and charming compliments to resolve everything.

- Learns from you how long the celebration lasts; whether for a day or a week, he goes along with you, not minding even if you want the whole year to feel like it's your anniversary. Over time, he'll read you; every morning when you wake up with a certain smile on your face, he'd know it's another day of celebration, also knowing he'd have to get up soon to make you breakfast in bed only to eat most of it once cuddled back up with you in bed.

Smiling as you watch, Bull sticks another spoonful of breakfast that he made for you that morning into his mouth, then chews happily before continuing with his stories of the time his crew killed a beast.

Hand resting atop your hand as the hunk of a bull sat in your shared bed next to you, not minding at all as he ate from the plate that was meant for you. Loving how he enjoys the days of your anniversary, but for you, it's days of adoring him as he makes the cutest person of himself without even knowing it.

-

Thom Ranier (Blackwall)

- Would remember it every year. Starting from the night before, being extra gushy and lovey-dovey, holding you close in bed as you both fall asleep. When waking on the day, he pulls out all the stops, making every anniversary a memorable one.

- Celebration only yearly; as much as the man loves you, he feels like monthly anniversaries are too childish. Also, monthly anniversaries made him feel as if the relationship wouldn't last long, needing to celebrate yearly to feel that your relationship would last for the years to come.

- Lets you sleep in, cuddling you before getting up to make breakfast, then bringing it to you in bed before setting up the horses to take you both to a place only he knew. Being in a different place every anniversary, never having seen him with it through the year, filled with entries of times you took his breath away. Always surprises you with a diary he kept for that year. Never having seen him with it through the year, filled with entries of times you took his breath away. It was a hefty book.

- Never misses your anniversary, always wanting to be by your side, always finding moments to write down in his anniversary diary. Being content in his mind, there would never be a possibility for him to miss that date.

- As long as he can pull surprises out of his pocket. Having planned the days out months in advance, making sure every day had a new surprise or special moment to be made into a memory.

Thom's warm hand cupped your cheek as he gazed into your eyes, lips inches from each other yearning to meet. Minutes before, having given you his forest memories of you—how the sun rested warmly on your skin, the way your eyes glow in the ray of the light.

Being only a small exert from the diary, having to close it at his request. Wanting you to read it later, needing this memory to be real instead of written down in a book for later.

-

Lucanis Dellamorte

- Always remembering it's your anniversary, holding them close to his heart as it's the first time he gets to share that special celebration with anyone. Refusing to fuck it up in any way and also having Spite to remind him every hour as the date nears.

- Early in the relationship, he celebrates your anniversary every month; if it weren't for not wanting to come off too much, he would celebrate every week or day. Really overworks himself wanting to show you every bit of love he has for you on those days. Even if you ask him to relax, a gift would do the same good; he'd never stop going all out for your yearly.

- Taking up a lot of contracts in advance, saving up for your yearly anniversary, taking you away on vacation to anywhere you wanted to go—even if it's just only the two of you for miles, he makes it happen. Working overtime to plan what fun things to do, where to buy your favorite things, and what gifts to get you, with Spite pitching in with a yell of what he wanted to get you.

- Heart drops into his stomach if he missed your anniversary; even with your reassurance that it was okay, it's not to him. Devastated at the thought of having missed the one special day he gets to celebrate the love he had for you in full, for the first person he'd ever been in a relationship with. Finally talking him down, telling the distressed man you would be happy even if he gave you a flower from the garden outside; all you want on that day is him; nothing else matters.

- For what he has planned, he makes sure the celebration lasts for days; even when running out of ideas on the tenth day, Spite is there, giving him more. The two are a menace when putting their heads together. Starting out romantic after the date, then turning into passion, and lastly, hunger.

Heat prickles through your cheeks as Lucanis's lips soften against yours. Minutes ago, admiring the view of the city lights, then feeling a warm hand planted underneath your shin, you were gently guided right into Lucanis's lips.

Accepting the smooth action, kissing him back, feeling through the kiss as he smiled before moving once again. The same hand trailing up, cupping your cheek with lips rough with passion. Doing the same hands combing through his hair as you dive into his kiss, swearing you could hear Spite faintly.

-

Emmrich Volkarin

- Definitely remembers it, your anniversary, you being the dearest thing to his heart; that date means so much to him, he could never forget it. Planning months in advance, even asking Manfred his opinion from time to time on decisions, wanting every detail of the date to be to die for.

- Would be open to a monthly celebration but has a bit more taste for a yearly anniversary, being able to make everything feel more extraordinary. Worries that the monthly anniversary would dull his yearly surprises. However, if you insisted, he would agree to only having every two- to four-month anniversary, as the man can only pull so many unique date and gift ideas out of him.

- For your yearly, he would take you to see the most extraordinary places in all the world, guiding you in waking the life around the environment, watching everything light up and dance around you both. Speaking of dancing, this man would invite you to dance, head against his shoulder as you danced with the glowing creatures and magic whispering loving whispers into your ear before pulling out the dinner he packed for the picnic you were to have there.

- Rare that he would ever miss your anniversary from forgetfulness, it would be the reason cause of work. Not teaching, but if the Necropolis needed him, he would have to go with a storage promise to make it up to you when he gets back. Making it up to you with days off of teaching and other work, leaving you two just to be together.

- The planned celebration would last no more than a week; by the end of the fourth day, he would be exhausted, leaving you to have a turn to spoil him. Loving every minute of you spoiling him, being the one to now be gifted his favorite things and have surprise meals with his favorite desserts, all for him to enjoy, definitely healing his inner child.

Watching adoringly as Emmrich took a bite of the dessert you made just for him, even when he asked many times if you wanted a bite, you declined every time. Wanting him to have it all to himself, knowing he'd have the biggest smile after.

Chatting your ear off as he did so on many things, watching his lips move with a smile that gets bigger and bigger with every bite. Taking notice with one of his bites as a bit of it stuck to his lip before he could wipe it away, you took the opportunity to wipe it away with your thumb. Stunning Emmrich, watching as you lick it off your thumb. Locking eyes with him, seeing red flashes across his cheeks, before you lean over the table kissing him.

-

Lace Harding

- Lace can be a bit forgetful, but that's one of the things you love about her. So focused on one thing, not even time mattered—a magical experience when it's with you. Looking into your eyes, amazed every time. If it weren't for the mornings of eyegazing, adoring her amazement at your existence, she would have remembered it was your anniversary.

- Love to celebrate both monthly and yearly anniversaries, though the monthly celebrations would be more a day of never leaving the bedroom. Spending most of the day in each other's arms, soaking up each other's warmth before getting up to make dinner together, only to barely get anything done, not being able to let each other go. Ultimately ending the night at one of your comfort restaurants before getting home and back into bed in her arms.

- Yearly anniversaries would be a camping trip; even if it wasn't your thing, she'd smooth-talk you into it. Lace loves seeing you all sweaty and covered in dirt; she thinks it's hot, so this is more of a gift to herself than to you. Never tell you where she's taking you, even covering your eyes when you get halfway there. Only to show you the more breathtaking view before telling you that's your view for the next few days.

- Finally, when reminding her what the date was, watching as her face drops with a red flush spreading across her whole face. The first words out of her mouth would be a curse before the flood of apologies started. Even with all the reassurance in the world, the only thing that would stop her would be a kiss, feeling as all of her worries melt away. Breaking the kiss, the next words out of her mouth are her swearing she's still going to make it up to you.

- The camping trip would last for five days at most. Having only brought food for the first three days, knowing she'd be busy in your arms, then the last days she'd hunt and gather for the both of you. Telling you she never wants it to end, but when it does, she does love the view of you when hiking back home.

Limbs tangled with each other, lips close to raw, minutes ago, breaking the hungered kiss with the breathtaking view in the background.

The fire had died out hours ago, making you rely on Lace for warmth. Happily doing so with open arms, only to attack you with a shower of kisses. Almost sad you have to go back, away from the night sky, brought out Lace's eyes that adored you greatly.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI.

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

Taglist: @blue124th @n0v4hertz @call-me-a-fool @hellok1ttycake @covertleathers @doombellow @teleanna

[lemonsprite]

How tf did the inquisitor and Cullen go from being freaky on his desk to his bedroom up that gigantic ladder????? Who in their right mind is making out all hot and heavy and then climbing a 20ft ladder straight up???? Total mood ruiner in my opinion 😒

[scarfacemarston]

Cullen Rutherford Fluff Alphabet

Note: I sometimes say “you” because it’s shorter than typing inquisitor constantly. This is also Gender Neutral. Please think about reblogging or at least leaving a like! This sort of thing takes time to create. Feel free to request more Cullen!

A - Affection (how do they show affection to their s/o)

Cullen is new to love. Outside of his crush on Amell/Surana, he did not have any romantic feelings towards anyone. Love was terrifying but exhilarating at the same time. It was something entirely new and engaging and something that he would put his all into. He is very physically affectionate and primarily shows his love through embraces, kisses, and cuddling. However, he also allows the Inquisitor to vent or cry as much as they need to. He will also insist on shouldering whatever burdens they are struggling with, whether that's completing extra paperwork, scaring off those who want to bother them, or leaving behind little treats to cheer them up; he can do it all.

B - Best Friend (what are they like as a best friend?)

Cullen doesn't really consider himself to have many friends until Inquisition. In fact, the last time he had friends was Kinloch Hold before it went to hell. (However, this was only with his fellow templars.) Inquisition is when he meets Cassandra, Leliana, Josephine, and the rest of the crew. It took time for him to see them more than colleagues, but they found a devoted, loyal, encouraging friend in the former templar who continued on even when he was at his worst. As time passed, he began displaying a more relaxed side to him and joined in game nights and his time with people like Dorian. 

C - Cuddling (do they like to cuddle? And how would they do it?)

Oh, he loves to cuddle.  His family was very physically affectionate, but that quit once he joined the Templars. He didn't know how touch starved he was until he brushed hands with the Inquisitor and even more so when he held them for the first time. He hadn't allowed anyone near him since the fall of Kinloch Hold. Now, he can't sleep properly without holding the Inquisitor. Even if he can't sleep, his mind and body feel at peace in a way they never could before. 

D - Domestic (do they want to settle down? How good are they at cooking and cleaning)

His childhood dream was to be a templar. He never thought of any sort of domesticity. Templars rarely settled down. He never viewed himself as settling down during Inquisition, either, until he fell in love with the Inquisitor and only then did he dare to dream. After seeing what Mia has, he couldn't help but want the same. He wants a spouse, kids (or to be a busy uncle), and, of course, as many malbari as he can manage.

Cullen is not an amazing cook, but he's functional. Can he make basics like stew? Sure. Could he grill something? Sure. It's straightforward. Porridge isn't difficult either, but he's more likely to live off of rations. During Inquisition Inquisition, Cassandra made sure he ate at least twice a day. He is very tidy, but he has been known to be a disorganized type of organized, too.

E - Ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

We've actually seen this in the game! He tries to maintain an air of professionalism and keep it with a bit of distance. He will still try to maintain his professionalism if you break his heart, but the hurt might bleed out. He tries to use logic and put some distance between the two of you.  However, it also depends on the circumstances. He can be very gentle about it and very apologetic. 

F - Fiancé (how do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Again, Cullen didn't have any ideas of romantic commitment until they met the Inquisitor. We know he's incredibly devoted to the templars and the Inquisition, so he has no issue with commitment. However, once he fell in love, he fell in love hard. I don't think it took that long for him to start fantasizing about marriage, even if he was so sure it would never happen. Cullen would wait for the right moment, but it doesn't necessarily need to be planned, just that it feels right like we see in the game. 

G - Gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

We've seen that Cullen can be incredibly tender and gentle. He especially appreciates having the ability and the safety to do so, emotionally and physically. He isn't ashamed of showing his gentle side - he cares for you more than anyone or anything else - but that doesn't mean he won't glare someone like Jim down if he tries to interrupt. The more comfortable he gets with you, the more likely you will see him become even more gentle. He is far more soft-spoken and sometimes even delicate in the way he touches you. 

H: Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

His hugs are bone-crushing but one of the safest feelings in the world. Some of his hugs can be quite gentle and tender like he's afraid he'll hurt you, but usually, they are more solid, as if he wants to cement you there.

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Cullen feels it quickly, but that doesn't mean he'll say it. When he falls, he falls hard. He doesn't mean to, it's only happened once before and went horribly wrong. He'll try to deny it to himself, also going through self-doubt, thinking he isn't good or deserving enough to have that happiness, but he will sometimes pine for the Inquisitor. Once the Inquisitor is in a relationship with him, he is anxious about when to reveal his feelings, but he will do so in a quiet moment, like cuddling together in bed. However, he'd much prefer his partner be the one to say it first. 

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

As alluded to before, he has a lot of self-doubt and self-loathing as he questions whether he deserves love after everything he has done. Early in the relationship, it would hurt, but he would tell himself that you are making the right decision…but that doesn't mean he'll give up entirely. As he becomes more secure in the relationship, he is more likely to get jealous despite that security because he knows what the two of you have built. He is more likely to step in verbally or give some light PDA.

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you?)

He kisses many ways, but they tend to be either tender or passionate. There's not quite an in-between. Expect a lot of stolen kisses, especially if the two of you have or are busy. He loves kissing on the hand, wrist, neck, and behind the ear, anywhere he can.

L: Little Ones (How are they with kids?)

Cullen feels very awkward around children. He's never disliked them, and he was a good brother to his siblings. Some of the younger templars looked up to him during training. However, after becoming a templar, he sort of "lost" his ability to relate to children. He's kind but stiff around them. Sometimes, he could briefly imagine having a child or two of his own, but that was always a fleeting thought. It wasn't until meeting the Inquisitor and reconnecting with Mia that he truly wondered about having a child. He wants it, whether through birth or adoption, but he would never force the Inquisitor into anything. 

M: Mornings (How are mornings spent with them?)

Cullen gets up early. He usually has his armour polished and on, training completed, and reports from the night before reviewed by 7:00 am. He often forgets to eat breakfast or munches on rations or jerky. Cassandra, Leliana, Josephine, and now the Inquisitor all make sure he eats breakfast.

You're a "bad" influence in that he wants to sleep in or stay in bed and cuddle longer. His new time to complete his routine is a whopping…..8:00 am. Since leaving the Inquisition together, he sleeps a bit later but still prefers to wake up early. 

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

That man does not sleep. He just doesn't. It's like it's a foreign concept to him. However, it is not all workaholic tendencies. Sometimes, it's to avoid the nightmares he's had for well over a decade. Other times, the lyrium keeps him awake. Even when you pursue a romance with him, he struggles to stay in bed only because he can't shut his mind off, but a nice massage, cuddles, and or sex tends to quiet those thoughts. Otherwise, he's content watching over the Inquisitor.

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Cullen is extremely private about himself. He reveals things incredibly slowly, but sometimes, his most personal moments come out at the most inopportune times when he doesn't have a choice but to reveal them, as seen with his lyrium addiction or his nightmares. These moments are incredibly frustrating to him, and he detests them when they happen. That's why, despite his discomfort, he is telling himself that he must be far more open and communicative so he has power over what to share, what not to share, and when to do so.

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Believe it or not, Cullen can be irritable and angry. Most of it is the lrium, but he holds everything inside of him until eventually, it comes out whether he wants it to not. Usually, it's a whole series of events that cause him to eventually snap, but it is possible for something triggering to cause him to explode or shut down.

However, he is incredibly patient in most situations, but he is not perfect. He will not tolerate many things, as seen with some of the more annoying chantry members in DAI. 

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every detail in passing, or do they kind of forget? )

Cullen sometimes struggles with his memory due in part to the lyrium but more so because he has so much on his mind. However, he will make you a priority above all else. Unfortunately, he punishes himself if he forgets or gets something wrong. Overall, he commits everything he can to memory, and as his lyrium cravings subside, he is more clearly able to remember things. He wants to know everything you're willing to share, whether it's your birthday, favorite color, favorite food, best battle tactics, or favorite ways to turn you on.

R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

It's a difficult memory for him, but the relief he felt when the Inquisitor revealed they still cared for him despite his lyrium addiction and his trauma. It's not the most romantic memory, but it is a meaningful one. More positively, he loves how he surprised you with that first kiss on the battlements… until Jim interrupted. The morning after he and the Inquisitor slept together was also dear to him. 

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

We know and have seen how protective Cullen is. He is ready to give up his life at a moment's notice if needed, especially if it's for the Inquisitor. He was willing to leave the Inquisition because he felt he was a liability to it and the inquisitor. He is incredibly selfless and self-sacrificing. He's also not afraid to voice his opinion in defense of his partner. As for him, he doesn't really expect anything in return. However, he already thinks you protect him by looking out for his well-being, whether it's the lyrium, his anxiety, eating, sleeping, etc. He also greatly appreciates it if you speak up in defense of him for whatever reason, but he never expects it.

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, and gifts?)

After much worrying, he would fret about it and might turn to someone like Josephine for help or even Varric, Dorian, or Leliana. However, he is capable of giving gifts on his own, planning outings, as seen with the lake and giving his lucky coin to the Inquisitor. He definitely tries, but he's always worried he'll fuck it up somehow.

U: Ugly (What would be a bad habit of theirs?)

He does have a temper and when hurt, he can lash out. We've seen this when he threw his lyrium kit against the wall, nearly hitting the Inquisitor. However, he works very hard to keep control of it. His anxiety and self-doubt can also be a problem, but again, he tries to hide these feelings as best as he can.

As for an actual habit, his pacing and constant movement can be anxiety-inducing to some. His office has a pacing track on it. 

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He knows he's handsome. He sees the way people look at him and treat him. He's not stupid. We know he styles his hair, but I think PART of that is due to some insecurity about his curls. Other than that, he focuses on the upkeep of his armor, but that is habit and perfectionism. Besides his hair, he doesn't spend much time on his appearance.

W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He would convince himself that he would. He never expected you to return his feelings, but he knows he would be crushed if you ever left him. He would respect your decision but doubt that he'd ever feel whole again as he'd be unlikely to trust himself with another partner.

X: Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

Cullen secretly has a sweet tooth, but he doesn't want anyone to know that. Still, he wouldn't mind being given sticky buns or a pastry. (He's lying. He will devour them.)

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

We know he mumbles, tosses and turns, and has nightmares and insomnia. The poor guy has it all. However, he also sweats and overheats easily. This all improves as the lyrium addiction subsides. However, one thing that does not change is that he overheats easily…………………………….but still wants to cuddle. Once he has his arms around the Inquisitor, good luck getting up.

[lagunapoint]

pairing: Solas x F!Reader <3

A description: Solas is always tender and uninhibited under the blanket

Notes and tags: +18, soft and gentle sex before sleep, unprotected sex (or protected if you imagine it as magical protection or something like that :D), kisses, kissing, kissing, cuddles, elvish, pointy ears meow

word count: about 1k

Leaving one candle burning, its reflections scattering around your room, you tiredly undressed and slipped beneath the cool, thin blanket. The fatigue that had been building in your body throughout the day instantly enveloped you, and the softness and comfort of the bed surrounded you from head to toe. Lying with your eyes closed, you smelled the sweet scent of lavender from the bedding. Through the open balcony doors, you could hear tired voices from the Skyhold tavern and the occasional laughter of those resting by the fire. The birdsong had been replaced by the quick trills of crickets. The soothing night bustle lulled you, but even through the oncoming drowsiness, you heard his footsteps.

You pretended to be asleep, hiding your smile in the pillow when you heard him approach, heard him take off his clothes, leaving them on the couch. You yielded to temptation and opened your eyes to look at him. In the diffused candlelight, in the nighttime mist and the haze of the fading day, Solas looked magnificent. You studied his half-naked body with thirsty curiosity, and when he discarded his pants and turned to look at you, you quickly closed your eyes. This small mischief dispelled your drowsiness. It was replaced by a quickening heartbeat and an exhilarating anticipation of what was to come. You focused on listening, following his steps as he approached the bed, lifted the edge of the blanket, and lay down next to you. His arms enveloped you in a needy embrace. This embrace, homely, tender, and greedy, consumed you completely. Like a soft vine, he wound around your body and pulled you against his chest. 

"Are you asleep, vhenan?" 

He whispered softly, tickling the delicate skin of your ear with his breath. In response, you slowly stretched out in his arms, settling in more comfortably. You sensed the warmth of his body, breathed against his chest, and, with your fingertips, you began to stroke his back. You felt Solas’s hand move to the roots of your hair, and with a gentle motion, he loosened it, letting it fall onto the pillow behind you. One kiss. Light. Quick. You touched your lips to Solas’s bare chest and felt his hand move to your buttocks, slowly and unhurriedly stroking the tender skin. Did he sense the shiver of goosebumps beneath his hand as they rippled across your skin at his touch? 

He did not stop. Ignoring the thin fabric of the nightgown, his hand moved up to your lower back, where you arched pliantly, pressing your chest closer to him. Gentle warmth in light waves of arousal spread through your body from his proximity, and he always felt that, anticipating and predicting your next desires. Solas paused for just a moment, only to find your lips. Reaching for him, you touched his soft lips in a tender and sensual kiss, giving a blissful feeling of tranquility. 

He leaned in slightly, touching his nose to yours, and repeated the kiss, deepening it. He gripped your thigh with his fingers as he gently urged you to part your lips and touched your tongue with his own. Your body yielded, slowly rocking and pressing against his as the kiss became deeper and deeper. His kisses were always greedy, striving to obtain the forbidden at any cost. You liked how he took the initiative, playing with your tongue, pausing to look into your eyes, then continuing again. Each kiss constricted your throat in anticipation, stealing your breath. 

He breathed against your lips without touching them as his fingers traveled from your lower back along the curve of your waist to your chest, pushing the nightgown up high. His unrestrained desire resonated in your body, and lifting yourself slightly, you kissed him the way you had been dreaming of all day. Touching his neck and squeezing it lightly with your fingers, you deepened the kiss, allowing each unfulfilled longing to come true. He broke the kiss, gently touching your cheek with his lips, then your jawline, lowering himself to your neck, lightly sucking on the tender skin. Pulling the nightgown down, he kissed the protruding, aroused nipple through the thin fabric. Unchecked waves of arousal filled your mind and body each time he nibbled the excited skin with his teeth. With his free hand, he stroked your stomach, tenderly caressing lower, pressing gently as your body arched to meet his touch. He rose above you as you pulled him closer, no longer willing to follow the rules of his game. Solas lingered for a few moments, gazing into your face and at your moist, parted lips. You ran your hand over his face, his soft cheek, and touched his pointy ear with your fingers. 

A quiet, unrestrained word in Elvish escaped his lips with a deep exhale, its meaning lost amidst the overwhelming sensations that enveloped you. He kissed your lips unrestrainedly, and simultaneously with the kiss, he spread your legs apart and slipped his fingers inside. A quiet moan broke out against his lips, and it was met by new, abrupt sentences - quiet Elvish words he whispered into your ear in a low voice, allowing your hips to sway on his fingers. 

Each of his words hypnotized you. Your fingers slid along his neck, the back of his head, and down to his shoulder blades every time he broke off and covered the tender skin on your neck and collarbone with kisses. You lay more comfortably when Solas rose above you, settled between your spread legs, and slowly entered to you. Swaying together in ecstasy, every cell of the body seemed to turn into liquid electricity. Desires, insistent and unrestrained, sped up the movements that merged the bodies into a single whole, until the point of ecstasy completely swallowed every thought. A whirlwind of arousal spread in pulsating warmth, and Solas blissfully buried his nose in your neck, breathing hotly. 

The long and strong embrace lasted an eternity. You felt how his breathing calmed, how his body pressed more firmly against you. His slightly husky and dear ar lath ma, vhenan scattered into stars within your thoughts. Settling on his shoulder, you caught yourself thinking, just before sleep claimed you, that tonight, more than anything, you wanted to join him in the Fade. With these thoughts, in a blissful doze, you finally let sleep take you, remaining in his cozy and protective embrace, where the world beyond the room lost all significance.

[two-poptarts]

That Dawg in me :

[xxcherrydevilxx]

Liquid Courage

Pairing & Fandom: Female Lavellan x Solas -Dragon Age Word count: 3,238 Warnings - slight lewd descriptions, otherwise pretty fluffy Summary

Solas keeps denying poor Lavellan's advances after settling into Skyhold, and she is getting a bit tired of it. A night drinking then stumbling into his sad little corner might be the push she needs to finally stop dancing around the question and just ask it, and also admit to herself that she is hopelessly in love despite trying not to be.

Author Notes: More brainrot on my lavellan, just reposting this to my Tumblr so the terminal illness can be seen by everyone everywhere for all time. Not fully proofread, several errors here and there but tada! Banner used below is by CafeKitsune!

“It's sad, he makes me sad when I look at him,” Lumine Lavellan grumbled beside Varric. He snorted as he continued to write down words in a letter, shaking his head lightly at Lumine’s glum expression. They had just settled into Skyhold and he was getting together some notes for his companions in Kirkwall. The casual “No I didn’t die,” and “Yes I’m staying with the Inquisition for a bit longer,” 

“That's curiosity, Charmer,” Varric replied with another swish of his quill against parchment and a flourish of gathering ink to begin yet another letter.

“No- well, perhaps, back at Haven…” She mumbles to herself. She was still half-slouched half-stood at the table beside her dwarf companion. He inclined his head to her, continuing to listen to her chatter. The background noise of Lumine was becoming his favorite sound in Skyhold. 

“But when he led us here, told me things about our people, I really started to wonder… he's alone, yet still so wise? How? Who taught him? What more does he know that he does not share and why-” she heaved a dramatic sigh, making his stack of papers flutter slightly but not become disarray. “-why he never joins us at the tavern, am I bad company, Varric? I think everyone pretty much likes me, I know he enjoys me when we discuss trivial things here and there- yet he never takes up my invitation for a drink?”

Varric pressed a hand to the back of his neck and let out another laugh at the poor young elf’s questions. He had to tell Hawke about this, it reminded him of her, in a strange way.

“Yes, Charmer, you are horrible company—that's why half of Skyhold follows your every flippant whim. " She shoved her shoulder into his playfully, making his quill slip and the letter he had almost finished being swallowed by ink with no intent. He pushed her back jokingly as he stood to fix her mess. 

Really. She was just Hawke but in a different coat of paint. Perhaps more charming too, less prone to fighting as well. 

“I'm gonna try again Varric, maybe he’ll play Wicked Grace with us and I will be able to make him let down that icy guard of his,” She began, with new reckless stubbornness. Nobody ever said no to her, especially not the men. Varric had purposefully watched when she charmed Curly, the sight was something to behold. The poor boy, a stuttering mess, and a devilish elf just smiling at him. Then there was The Iron Bull, those two took fast to flirting with one another on the battlefield. Some of the things so salacious he had noted to write it down in his next book, Maker, it felt as if those two were trying to win a battle or something with the sly comments they gave one another. 

“Yeah, yeah, you can woo Chuckles after you help me clean up your mess. " Somehow, when Varric uttered those words, the spilled ink and ruined parchment suddenly disappeared and were replaced with fresh and clean versions of both. Huh. Noted.

“I appreciate your invitation, but I must decline once again. I am… studying some things,” Solas rejected her yet again, which made her lean against one of the walls that he had yet to paint. Why was he so stubborn? She knew he liked her—or well, he did. They flirted well enough at Haven. What's so different with Skyhold? 

“Oh? Like what! Tell me about it, I like hearing about your studies and things,” she quipped, trying to keep him talking for as long as she could. She knew once he stopped they both would recede into different spaces. She would head to the tavern, drink ale and flirt with Bull for fun, cheat at cards with Varric, and be unabashedly herself for a few short hours before she had to be “inquisitor” again. 

It reminded her of when she was shuffled between clans to become the First to clan Lavellen, oh how she had to fold into herself there too. Do not run off, do not explore, pay attention, do not speak with humans, your magic is unchecked, blah blah blah. 

Perhaps that's why she desperately wanted for Solas to join her, to see her outside of her inquisitor persona and the real her. He had caught glimpses, she was not as subtle with her personality, never was as her Keeper would confirm. Her flippant attitude to certain problems, her joy in parties and victories, her defiance against the idea that mages were “unsafe”. That still wasn’t enough, she wanted him to know her and in turn, her know him. He was interesting, he reminded her of a Keeper she would actually follow, a Keeper who was actually wise. She found herself seeking his guidance, relishing in their talks, and learning far more than ever before… And perhaps when he spoke of how fascinating it would be to see her dominated it sent shivers down her spine and made her begin thinking about the sage elf differently. 

“I could not keep the inquisitor away from her companions, the work would bore you either way,”  He evaded smoothly, making a turn to look over a book that was sprawled on his desk. She pushed herself off the wall and walked forward, craning her head over his shoulder to peer at the text- ugh, she didn’t understand a lick of it from her quick glance. Yet she did enjoy seeing the spooked expression on Solas’s face as he stepped away. 

“Inquisitor, I assure you its-”

“Lumine, call me Lumine,” She beamed, swaying her hips slightly as she watched him squirm under her gaze. He leaned against his desk, inching farther away as she stood in front of him, blocking an easy escape. Yet, he did not make to push past her, how curious.

“...Inquisitor Lumine, please, do not worry about me, I enjoy my time here,” he spoke curtly, and she scoffed, stepping back and walking towards the door. Perhaps that was a bit mean, well, more so than mean. He had just gotten under her skin so terribly bad. 

“Right, of course, If the ale doesn’t make me pass out I shall find you again, Solas,” She called over her shoulder, she gave him a toothy grin as she did. She wasn’t someone who gave up on others, especially one that looked so… alone in that rotunda he called his own. Also, she never gave up on someone who didn’t trip at her feet. 

Perhaps he had divulged himself too much with his simple flirting and long looks. The strange, yet charming elf, Lavellen, had sunk her teeth into him and refused to let go despite his constant backwalking on past discussions. He thought after a few days of his somber and humble ploy she would saunter off to find another man to set her sights on. For a short while, he thought he was succeeding, until her incessant pestering about catching a drink or playing cards. He was amused by her, flattered even- despite wishing not to be and had not harshly rejected her. He enjoyed her confident walk into the rotunda, the pout after a soft refusal, and her walking away to lick her wounds. 

Yes, he enjoyed the game. He enjoyed seeing her eyes light thinking she might have won, then smoldering the flame with another shake of his head. How he enjoyed watching her new ideas and antics, her walk away with a pang of hunger.

Yet he shouldn’t, which is why he keeps denying her advances to the best of his abilities. He had something much more serious to do than devour Lavellan because of his foolish desire. He needed to stop watching the sway of her hips and the way she licked her lips when she ate honeyed treats. He had fleeting thoughts of how they would taste if instead, he licked them clean. How she would tremble and gasp against him-

Right. Focus. He could not be that man. She would find someone else, there were plenty of them lining up that she only bolstered with her teasing. Which is why, when she stumbled into the rotunda long past when the moon had risen, her skin flushed pink and her hair a mess, well- he just had to make sure she was okay, of course. Yes. it was important to confirm the inquisitor did not drink too much. He was just doing the humble apostate mage thing of leading her by the arm over to his couch and helping her lay down. 

The ale flowed plentifully, she had tipped her drink back to nothing so many times during the night that Josephine would most definitely need to place new orders for more drinks. How she stumbled up Skyhold’s steps and into the rotunda where her favorite elf would be is nothing short of a miracle. Perhaps she was Andraste’s chosen, for that's the only fathomable reason she didn’t fall on her face when she ascended the first step.

She must say though, seeing the bewildered look of a man deep in thought, the man she desired, who all but pushed aside his work to stride to her side and take her by the arm. 

“Inquisitor-” he began. His voice was rough from not using it for several hours. How she loved the sound, it would sound better if he called her name instead, though.

“Lumine” she slurred to correct him. Hoping to win hearing the syllables slip off his tongue with that gruff and tired voice of his.

“Lumine,” she won. Lovely, the sound struck her heart true and she leaned into him. Smelling the scent of ink, paper, and elfroot on his clothes. She let herself be led by him, perhaps because it gave her more of an excuse to practically nuzzle her way into his chest and then was laid down on the couch that sat in the otherwise sparse space. Her ale-addled mind had several pleasing thoughts of how this would continue, his walking away was not one of them. 

She sputtered to call after him, trying to lean up but the whooshing sound of blood in her ears and the spinning of the already very round room made her fall back down.

Oh, rotunda, round, of course. Did she truly only drink ale tonight?

“I’ll acquire you some water, Lumine,” Hearing her name again on his tongue, without that stupid title, made her relax back onto the sofa with a content sigh. Fine, so be it, let him grab her some water.

She dozed as she waited, her eyes closing and opening languidly as she took in the veilfire that lit the space. She found her eyes wandering in wonder at the paintings he had done in their time here. Perhaps she could ask him to give her lessons, another way to get more time with him and slip past his defenses. She heard the door click close and soon, there he was. She should make stopping by his room drunk a habit if it meant he doted on her. 

“Why, thank you my dear apostate.” She said, her voice intoxicatingly sweet. He sat the water beside her as he smoothed the hair off her brow. 

Yes, this shall become a habit of hers. 

“It's the least I can do Lumine… How much did you drink exactly?” he asked, his hand slowly sliding away and into his lap where he folded them together- so composed. 

“Cups!” she beamed, her voice echoing off the walls and up to wake some of the sleeping crows. He gave her a wry smile and sucked in a sharp breath. 

“Why, yes Lumine, cups,” He joked back to her. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, she saw his sharp canine and felt a sudden flip of her stomach. Was it the drink or the butterflies? Both? Something else?

“Wolfish,” She whispered. She grinned up at the shock that wove across his face. Yes, she was great at this teasing thing even when drunk. At least she knew she still had that effect on him, she was worried truth be told. 

“Wolfish and tricky,” she continued. Elated to see the way he shook his head with a bemused expression. She agreed with both her declarations, only now finding the right words to place what he reminded her of. She probably wouldn’t remember it in the morning, how sad she had finally placed the big mystery and she wouldn’t even remember. Perhaps she should write a note down for herself to remember. 

“I hope those are compliments, inquisitor,” she groaned at the usage of her stupid title once again. Throwing her arm over her eyes as she pursed her lips, hadn’t they worked past that?

“Please, I beg you, just call me my name, every blasted person in here calls me inquisitor,” she whined, her annoyances at these past few months bubbling up from their hiding place. Maker, she was so tired of it all, how much longer would she have to play yet another act of who the people around her supposed she was? When could she abandon the titles for her own name?

“I am not inquisitor, I am not the First, and I am not a knife-eared mage, I am Lumine Lavellen- witty and charming and whatever other positive words I cannot think of at this moment.” She declared. Yet again making his eyes crinkle and a smile tug at his lips. A shudder of a laugh shook his body as she pouted. Did he find this funny? How rude, she was dead serious. 

“Do not laugh, I forbid it, you are a tricky man to get to do anything, did you know? I have been poking and prodding you to come out of that shell of yours,” She babbled on, her train of thought leaving the first thought and jumping to the next as she did. The liquid courage flowing through her veins only allowed her to speak more directly to the apostate sitting beside her. 

“You- you do make your intentions noted,” He chuckled, looking away from her as his grip on his folded hands tightened. He was as taut as a bow, why? What had him on the defense so terribly as if he would leap away? 

“Well, that's good, I thought my charm had dulled since Haven,” She grumbled, making a move to grab the water and almost tipping the cup over. He practically leaped at the ability to help her, holding the cup for her as she sipped from it. Still, his eyes still seemed to betray his composure. A storm seemed to brew inside of them, and it made her choke on the water that slipped past her lips. 

“That's quite impossible, Lumine, you’ve charmed all of the inquisition and half of the Hinterlands, I am no fool to your guile,” He said, his voice low and still carrying edges of roughness from little use during the night. Yet again, her stomach flipped and she felt her skin heat from her face to the tip of her ears. 

“Yet you deny my charm, is there- did I misread?” she rushed out, leaning on her elbows and tipping her head closer to him. He tipped back as if getting too close to her could hurt him. Yet she waited, out of spite or fear or something else… She waited to hear his answer.

And that answer took a long time to form, as his eyes flicked back and forth between her and the door. 

“You… You did not misread, I just- well, I think… I do not want to distract you from your duties,” He had finally spoken after he gathered his thoughts. She snorted, duties? Can’t he see that's what she wants him to be? A distraction, something to remind her she was still her underneath the heavy weight of saving the world. 

She didn’t let her mind wander to the much more dangerous underlying factor that she, in fact, had a crush. It was sickening and she had never gotten one like this before, and well- she liked it, she liked feeling something other than the mounting pressure and the fear of failure.

“You silly man…” She had uttered, which only made him shoot her a confused stare. She grabbed hold of his wrist, running her fingers over the fabric that covered it before dipping it under the sleeve to feel the pulse there. It pounded beneath the pad of her finger, and she pressed down just slightly to see if he would pull away. He didn’t.

“You do not… distract me from my duties, you give me.. A breath of air before I am pulled back under by them,” She began, her finger still rubbing the cool and soft skin of his wrist as she spoke. “If it weren’t for you, Solas, I do not… I cannot see myself coming out of this as well as I have.” She finished, not intending to be so honest about her feelings- about her fears. His other hand softly came up to trace the bones underneath her wrist, before tugging it away from under his sleeve. 

She feared he would leave it at that, ignore her silly confession and her soft touches, and say “good night, inquisitor” in that annoying closed-off voice of his that she dreaded. The most beautiful thing occurred instead, for he intertwined his fingers with hers and held her hand. She felt her heart soar as she let out a soft gasp. 

The world could end now for all she cared, at this moment she was breathtakingly and maddeningly in love with a man for simply holding her hand. Such a simple act, and yet it broke her. 

“I fear for what would happen if we indulged in this, I fear for how it would… look,” He said softly, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. She forgot how to breathe, she was sure of it. 

“I do not want to make anything… difficult, I do not want to hinder our plans.” She sighed at his touch, feeling her body relax. She was lovesick, horrible, especially for her. The elf inquisitor who boasts about her flirtations, in love, gods…

“You could never be a hindrance, and if anyone were to say a thing I might just throw them off the highest point in Skyhold,” she spoke back softly, her eyelids drooping as she met his gaze. Longing pooled there, and love so true it made her heart stutter. Then, he smiled and pulled her hand to his lips to give the softest of kisses as she felt herself lull into sleep. His words were the last thing she heard, his face the last thing she saw before sleep overtook her. 

“Duly noted Lumine, I will keep your words close to heart… though, please do not throw anyone off any balconies for me, understood?” He said, a soft laugh permeating through his comment. She smiled in her sleep as she felt him again reach to smooth her hair. “No promises..” She mumbled, leaning into his touch that she wondered how she lived without for so long. Never again… She had declared to herself. Never again would she go without him, without this, without love like this.

[aethes-bookshelf]

a taste this bitter || solas/inquisitor

Something possessed me to write this. Gods above, I don't know what it was, but I pumped this out in an hour. I haven't written fic since February, I can't believe this man is the one to get me to do it again. I thought it'd be Alistair or Zevran, or Fenris, but you'll get the egg instead.

I love me some angsty pining and unresolved feelings and since Solas is Solas, he's perfect for this scene concept.

Pairing: solas/inquisitor (can be read as self-insert as well)

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, unresolved romantic tension, made to fit any inky, not just fem!lavellan

Wordcount: 1k

Summary: For a moment he missed the way their fingers wrapped themselves around their teacup, holding it like something precious, something worth touching; he missed the way he longed to be held by them just so.

Solas hates tea, but he promised he'd never forget them.

[Written to fit an Inky of any gender/race, not just fem!Lavellan.]

ao3 link

The scent of tea was not the problem to Solas — it was its taste. It didn't matter how fragrant its smell, how earthy or flowery the flavor's undertone, tea was always far too bitter. Bitter enough to twist his face with disgust, bitter enough to burn his tongue. Sugar made it a sickly kind of sweet, but the bitterness never really went away. It would spread inside his mouth like a disease, and each time he wanted nothing more than to be rid of it, to replace it with a taste that actually agreed with his palette.

The cup he was holding was nothing like the one the Inquisitor had used in years past, back when the sun seemed brighter and his purpose didn't weigh so heavy on his shoulders. Theirs was small and light, made of fine porcelain, and his was heavy, thick and tall.

For a moment he missed the way their fingers wrapped themselves around their teacup, holding it like something precious, something worth touching; he missed the way he longed to be held by them just so.

He pushed that longing down just as he had so many times before, the same way he did it over and over again as the years passed and the light of their soul grew brighter. He'd allow himself just this one sign of weakness, just this one moment of despair and not one more. It was for the best.

---

The sun outside was setting and the entire sky was on fire with it.

The Inquisitor was sitting in Skyhold's rotunda, a dainty porcelain teacup cradled in their hands. The tea was still steaming, its aroma filling the space around them. It was rich, fruity and sweet. They took a deep breath, enjoying the fragrance, before taking a tiny sip.

Solas stood nearby, a brush in his hand. He'd spend the past few days working on another one of his murals and was about to add the first layer of color. The Inquisitor usually accompanied him while he worked. Sometimes they'd talk — about the Fade, about the Inqusition's next move, about a book they'd both been reading. Sometimes they'd sit in silence, the Inqusitor watching and Solas quietly enjoying the attention. But almost always, they'd bring with them a cup of hot tea.

‘Inquisitor, if I may,' said Solas, adding a big pass of a bright, vivid red to the wall.

‘You may,' said the Inquisitor, tone light.

Solas' smile was small; it was gone before they could see it. ‘I couldn't help but notice how you always bring tea with you, yet you don't seem to enjoy it, not really.'

‘Ah,' they made a quiet, startled sound, clearly caught off guard.

‘I don't mean to pry, but I find it a little curious that you keep drinking it despite that. I assume you have a reason.' Solas turned away from his painting to look at his Inquisitor. His eyes were drawn to their hands and the cup in them; a sudden burst of feeling in his chest made him catch his breath.

Foolish, foolish man, he thought. He didn't let it show.

They, too, took a long look at the cup in their hands before taking another tiny sip. A mostly hidden look of disgust passed their face, but Solas caught it anyway.

‘It's a reminder.'

It was Solas' turn to be caught of guard. Of all possible answers. ‘How come?'

The Inquisitor carefully lowered the cup down to the floor and left it right by their seat. They cleared their throat as they straightened, looking a mixture of solemn and bashfull.

‘I never really liked tea, you see.'

‘You are not alone in that.' He let his nose wrinkle a bit for emphasis. Not too much, but just enough to be noticeable.

‘Oh, I know, don't worry.' They chuckled. ‘I never liked tea, but my mother always had. She had this big tea and cup collection she was very proud of, you know?'

They looked at the wall opposite to them, but it was like they weren't looking anywhere at all. ‘And she knew I didn't really like it, but she'd make me drink it with her anyway.'

Was there a shine to their eyes?

‘We'd pick a flavor, and she'd make me pick the cups we'd be drinking from.' Their next chuckle was wet; they must have realised this — they cleared their throat again. ‘At the time I found it rather annoying, but now, well…' They turned to look at Solas. ‘It's my way of remembering her, I suppose. Her and all the happier times.'

He was silent for a moment. The air all around them smelled of fruit.

‘I see. I'm sorry for your loss, Inquisitor.'

---

The drink in his cup smelled of fruit, but the scent wasn't quite right. He didn't know nearly enough about teas to pin-point what was missing, but he knew something was. A certain note in the smell, so familiar he could almost taste it.

No matter. This one would have to do.

The cup warmed his hands as sweet-smelling steam filled the air with an aroma that, to him, smelled like paint and sunsets, and a sky on fire. His eyes burned with tears he wouldn't, couldn't let himself shed over memories he had no right to grieve. Not after he had left, not before he was about to do something unforgivable and yet, to him, necessary. Something he wouldn't be able to take back. He wasn't sure whether or not that was a good thing.

He took a sip of his tea and grimaced.

It was so, so bitter.

[andraste-preserve-us]

Ok but putting a cloak on someone is so personal. The other person has to wrap it around you in almost a hug-like position, then readjust it on your shoulders so it sits right, then get in close to clasp it around your neck, and just imagining Cullen wrapping his cloak around you/your Inquisitor UGH

[demigoddessqueens]

Okay, I'm a little obsessed with the Iron Bull/Passion Spirit concept, but imagine it's kind of a Lucanis/Spite situation with his S/O? 😂

Mage!Reader: "I know its a lot to take, but I swear Passion means no harm--" *eyes begin to glow and they suddenly begin caressing Bull's arm* "...oh...you are a lovely specimen--"

Iron Bull: "Um....?"

Mage: *snaps back to normal* "Ah! Sorry, they...um...really like you? And, well, I really like you, so you know, it's...is it warm in here?--"

Iron Bull: *knows he should probably be somewhat cautious but is starting to find this kind of hot*

Makes it even better considering Spite is canonically in love with Rook too! 🤣 (justice/anders L who? Jkjk)

Masterlist 12

Iron Bull keeps that calm facade but is full on hyper-ventilating internally

In the thick of it (hee 😏) I can imagine “Passion” just whispering in Inquisitor’s ear what they want

“Faster…!”

“Harder!”

“More tongue!”

Naturally, Iron Bull senses all these changes and wants to spur you on even more. It may be a spirit but it’s flattering to know someone such as yourself entices the supernatural and just has that effect on the others

“If we have an audience, let them join in…”

[chronicsolasapologist]

[databaze]

i like to think that during the events of DAI; solas would take lavellan’s horse if he wanted to explore some nature for a bit. even at some (majority of the time) points solas would drag lavellan herself with him so they could both escape the chaos that was happening - to grow closer to her and also just be around each other more

this is my head cannon but i wanted to share since i think it’s sweet :)

[mx-pastelwriting]

DRAGON AGE

✧ TAGLIST SIGN UP ✧

SOLAS | FEN'HAREL THE DREAD WOLF

VARRIC TETHRAS

CULLEN RUTHERFORD

IRON BULL

THOM RANIER | BLACKWALL

LUCANIS DELLAMORTE

EMMRICH VOLKARIN

LACE HARDING

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI.

[lemonsprite]

Sera, running around Skyhold with the inquisitor, pranking their advisors:

Sera: “I don’t know if we should mess with Cullen’s desk… I have no clue how sturdy it is….”

Inquisitor, who had Cullen on top of them eight hours ago, doing the horizontal tango on top of said desk: “oh it’s sturdy alright………”

[scarfacemarston]

Pride Month Requests 2025!

It's that time of year again when I open up my priority requests to LGBT+ content. This year, I will be compiling an LGBT+ WWII history reading list and including some yeehaw LGBT+ history reading as well. Due to my health, I can only do meta (Which I realize is more analysis) or headcanons. If my health improves, I can open one shots. Here are some readerships! Be aware that I may be a little slow. Bolded are the ones I do best.

Bucky Barnes x Reader Steve Rogers x Reader Stucky

Natasha Romanoff x Reader Yelena Belova x Reader Peggy Carter x Reader Arthur Morgan x Reader Abigail Marston x Reader

Molly O'Shea x Reader John Marston x Reader

Harvey Dent x Reader

Dick Grayson x Reader Jason Todd x Reader Pamela Isley x Reader Harley Quinn x Reader

Hawke x Fenris Hawke x Isabela Hawke x Merill Dorian Pavus x Inquisitor Cullen Rutherford x Inquisitor Cassandra x Inquisitor Leliana x Warden

Alistair x Warden

Cullen x Alistair

And more!

[sh0esuke]

" Turn Back " — ENGLISH VERSION.

𝗦𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : Solas

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 : ❝ Lavellan sometimes came awake from dreams in which her lover watched her sadly from across an endless distance. If they were more than simple dreams she could not say, for every time she reached for him, he vanished into nothing. Still she searched, and dreamed, and waited, for a way to change the Dread Wolf's heart. ❞

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : none.

ENG : PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORKS. If you want to translate it, ask me first then we can talk about it. If you want to find me on Wattpad, my account is in my bio, this is the ONLY ONE i have.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 𝟑,𝟕𝟎𝟎.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are heavily appreciated. All types of support are ! Thank you !! <3

A/N : English isn't my first language so I apologise if you find any incoherence/mistake in this work. I still hope you can enjoy it ! I absolutely adore Solas so of course I had to write something about him. It's been a pleasure !!

Dorian’s words come back into my mind as the softness of my silk sheets caress my skin. Its coldness makes me shiver, a sigh escapes my lips. Like a dagger slicing through my belly and lacerating my guts, they mutilate me, break me, and hurt my heart. I hear his voice; it resonates deeply within me. Every syllable is articulated with caution. He’s aware that it doesn’t matter how he will approach this subject; it will bring me sorrow, if nothing more. 

« My dear friend, you seem quite exhausted lately. Have you been sleeping well ? » 

I sob. 

As I open my eyes, drifting off into a deep sleep, I know I don’t need to panic. I know where I am. 

Which only makes my suffering worse. 

Only a pinch of hope manages to get into the mix. Bitterly salty, it makes me hiccup. I don’t know what to do.  I went through worse in battle, lost worse for much less; there is, nonetheless, wounds that never heal. Others that keep hurting you years after they’ve healed. I’m not laying on my bed anymore, and the temperature has dropped. My chest feels sour, my breath is short. By the time I've reviewed this place of torture, I'm spinning around, and tears are blurring my vision. It hurts. I’d give anything to be somewhere else, on the battlefield, fighting enemies from the past. I try to convince myself. 

Anywhere but here. 

This place is familiar. 

Properly speaking, I never set a foot in this forest. I have no idea where to find it. Ferelden ? Orlais ? Storm Coast ? Or even maybe Crestwood ? I must admit I searched its location endlessly, looking for a way to end this madness, it often drove me to the point of insanity. Perhaps this place holds a purpose, a meaning, an escape from these woods which have been torturing me for so long in my dreams. I was, however, never able to find it. 

I needed time to understand. I am aware of what lies ahead: I am doomed. Forced to come back in this place, fall into the same trap, again and again until I go back to hell. A word where I do not belong anymore. 

Not without him. 

The grass I stand on is wild, wet. Thin and beautiful. It soaks my pajama. Drops of water manage to find their way through the fabric and touch my skin. I shiver. I am glad to be wearing shoes at the moment. Unfortunately for me, I am unable to escape this greenery. It is all around me, in the form of bushes, a dense forest whose exit seems distant, if not non-existent, mixed with the humidity in the air. Even the smell finds its way into my lungs. I breathe it in. Its perfume is light, quite pleasant. The coldness in the air, a return to nature, the wilderness that is surrounding me, left alone by the hand of mankind. I could almost enjoy it. 

The trees are numerous. They are not tall, nor thicks, this forest isn’t unusual. It appears to be the type of forest one would see everywhere around the world, especially close to civilization. Nevertheless, I don’t see it ending. My intuition can’t help me, I can’t make a choice : run away to the front or the back. It’s as if my mind had been softened, my spirit calmed. I do not feel the urge to flee, I think of it, but it is rather an idea, which goes away quite fast because it seems ridiculous. I can’t see it as an option, more like an absurdity. An insult. I know where I belong, and it is here. 

I know there is no escape. 

Yet I am still in pain, I suffer. 

The belongings of my heart are in pieces. My only presence here manages to worsen its condition, I can’t do nothing but hold onto my chest, whimper and wish to call for help. 

All the trees look the same, the sky is navy blue, illuminated by the lunar rays of divine silver, the forest holds a rendering mysterious. It scares me. Darkness has taken over this place. I do not know what lies behind. I am left in the dark in an empty circle which is only made of grass. I am on my own. 

And I know what is waiting for me. 

My hands clutch my shirt, I breathe heavily, look around me frantically. My vision becomes blurry. Everything is moving, becomes fuzzy. A hole is being dug in my stomach. A few buttons pop, they fall at my feet only to disappear in the grass. 

I am at loss for words. 

This dream hunts me, like a merciless beast. It takes over me every night, brings me to this cursed place and eats the remains of my soul. It feasts upon my corpse, what is left of me. The more I come here, the more I become broken. I am a shadow of my former self. Nothing but flesh and decay. 

Yet I wouldn't want to leave for anything in the world. Despite my fear and wanting to leave for a safer place in the heat of battle, I do not wish to run away. I know it. I am confused. My heart screams something while my soul screams the opposite, and amidst these cruel exchanges, the truth has lurked there and is whispering in the hollow of my ear what I really want. It knows me. A glimmer of hope, that's what she is, she knows everything about me, aware that through my pain and resentment, I agree to stay here. 

I wouldn't run away from him for the world. 

Not him, not my Solas. 

As I stop looking around, lower my hands to my sides, the inspiration that swells in my chest clears my foggy mind.  It offers me a couple of seconds, allowing me to calm myself. My chest is heavy, and my eyes are watery. Tears threaten to roll down my cheeks at any moment now. Despite it all, I feel a bit stronger. I know what is waiting for me. 

I turn around, knowing he’s here. 

The Dread Wolf. 

Leaning against the trunk of a tree, he gazes at me with folded arms. He is right there. His gaze is piercing, splitting my skull into two heavy pieces. It breaks my heart. 

This cruel God who introduced me to the purest, most devastating feeling in this world. This elf with whom I've shared so much. This man that I love. He's right there. 

He's the reason I am here. 

The moment our eyes met; I froze. His image is enough to take the air out of my lungs, like a violent palm strike, leaving me breathless. 

Not even my hands are moving. It is hard to tell if I am even blinking. 

Previously, he had told me of his desire to end our love affair. He had told me of his devastating plan and persuaded me that I no longer had my place by his side ⸺and this, despite my pleas to accompany him, that our history was only the result of his pure selfishness. According to him, he had finally found the strength to put an end to it. He destroyed me, reduced what little hope I had left at the time to nothing, then cured me of my mark, and finally: left me. He abandoned me. After all those kisses we had exchanged, full of unspoken promises about the future, those nights we had shared, loving each other unconditionally, exploring each other, offering each other pleasure and joy. 

It is hard to believe. 

He is right there, few meters between us showing the ditch separating us. 

I hate it. 

Solas doesn’t say a word. He is wearing the same clothing as the day I found him a few months ago, giving him this Godly look. He appears more alike to the aristocrats from Orlais than anything else, which, inevitably, pains me. I dare to wonder if I ever knew him. I wonder if he is still the man I fell in love with. 

He seems healthy. 

His figure is slender, and he's put on muscle. He offers me a wonderful view from where I stand. I admire him from afar and, unable to help myself, compare him to the many murals I have seen of him, of Fen’Harel. All those paintings showing him in a position of power, guiding or punishing us, mortals. This time, the comparison doesn't seem preposterous; I can almost believe it. 

If only I did... 

His cheeks are as I remember them; hollowed, Solas looks more imposing. He looks straight from a fairy tale ⸺fearless knight, ironic, knowing that I’ve only heard of him from these stories. Far-fetched tales, and confusing to say the least, telling his demonic cruelty. However, having him in front of me, it makes me melt. He is back on his feet, as beautiful as ever. I can’t feel my body, my whole being is focused on him. I observe him to ink his image into my mind. With this, I make him mine. Until the next time we meet, I will keep this image, as soon as I’ll think of him I'll remember it. It will keep me sane. Then, it will break me. 

The mere thought of him already tears me apart. 

His eyes are veiled in sorrow. 

Solas tries to appear nonchalant, yet i see the tears in his eyes. A curtain of bitterness keeps me from understanding what he truly wants. Although, even when we were still together, I'd never really been able to decipher him. 

He was, is and will remain an enigma. 

It is the same everytime he brings me here. Everytime I dream of him. He keeps this same divine appearance, the same expression shredded by pain and suffering. 

I know I can’t get closer, at the moment, I am aware of this and accept my fate. My only concern is him. 

Solas looks at me as if i was nothing but a regret. 

He knows he can’t get closer. 

So many times, has he already succumbed, I am nothing if his greatest sin. It makes me wonder what he regrets so much. 

Does he regret falling for me, giving in ? Or does he regret leaving and not taking me with him ? I know the answer. His silence is however not quite comforting. Between the two of us, he has to suffer the most. I can’t imagine the dilemmas he’s staring at, right now. Especially if this led him into my dreams. 

Does he seek comfort from me ? 

I dream so much of bringing some to him... Even just for a few minutes. 

Thats is all I ask. 

Taking his face in my hands, kissing him like all those previous times he'd given himself over to temptation, shattering every last one of his doubts. To feel the softness of his skin against mine, to softly kiss his lips, then move up his cheek to his temple, finally his forehead. Embracing him, kissing him and cherishing him until the world is reduced to nothing but a pile of ashes. 

He doesn’t know how much I love him. 

Or maybe he does, maybe he’s afraid the unconditional love I feel for him will bring nothing but despair. Knowing his already lost me. 

Taken.

I have been taken. 

All that remains are broken pieces. 

He who loved me so much, he who turned away from his goals long enough to soften me up, to grab hold of my heart so that I could never get my hands on it. To this day, I can only feel what’s left of it, which is why the pain that lingers deeply wound me. Knowing that it is with Solas is enough to reassure me, although the pain only gets worse. He is a shadow of his former self. He who, even today, clings to the meager moments we spent together in my dreams, this silent place, the freshness, nature still untouched, impenetrable. He who desperately wants to see me again. 

He must think it is the last time. 

Just like the others. 

That is the reason as to why Solas is looking at me with such sorrow. His bruised expression, his eyebrows frowned. 

Solas is convinced we won’t see each other again. He has to move on. Our story is done, a mere memory from the past I suppose. To him, at least. But I know he will come back. I know that, just like those previous times, he will soon accompany me in my dream and will drink in my image again. He will contemplate me just as he’s contemplating me at the moment, engraving the features of my face in his mind, and try to make do with them before it becomes unbearable, and he goes off to find me again. 

I am unable to blame him. 

We are the same. 

Mutually we drink in each other. Greedily, eager for the meager crumbs that Solas allows himself to offer, we soak up the other's image. It suits us for the moment, even if it's never really enough. 

Not after falling in love. 

We are identical ; frozen in time. It is impossible for us to move an inch, as if this dream was as fragile as a porcelain doll. Only one movement and it will shatter. Solas is still leaning against the trunk of the tree, he hasn’t stopped looking at me; and I know it well, I only need to look at him in the eyes to understand what he feels. I do not pretend to know him. I do not pretend to predict his next move. However, I can recognize the troubled gaze of the man that I love. I can recognize watery eyes when I see them, as they beg for forgiveness. I love him so I understand. I feel his pain. 

The sorrow engraved on his face pains me. It is a heavy weight on my chest. 

Weakens my stomach. 

An unpleasant feeling for an equally bitter dream. 

Solas does not see me as his lover anymore. I am no longer the one with whom he saw the wonders of this world, I am no longer the one who made him laugh, the one who discovered him, the one who loved him and the one he loved. 

I am a memory. 

Frozen in place like a statue, a fragment of the past. A mistake. This is how he must see me. I am not meant to move. 

An image of the past. 

If I move, he will leave. 

Just like the previous times, where I had tried to reach him ⸺ a desperate act guided by my unconditional love for him, I will only have to blink, and he will be gone. My gesture would have made him go away. 

I suppose he can’t see me move; he is not ready for it. Not yet, not ever. My mere image is enough to sadden him, I can only imagine what my voice or my hand touching him might do. 

I would like for him to explain to me where we are, I would like to understand. I know he thinks that I can’t. But I do not care. These majestic woods, surprisingly dense, and this starry sky above us, giving his soft pupils a sparkling glow. I would give anything for him to talk to me. To have him explain. 

But this is what love is about. 

To love is to turn back. To reach out. 

And it is exactly what I do. In. 

I do not care, in this moment, if I scare him away. I convinced myself that if I don't do anything, my feelings were not real to begin with, it would all have been a lie that would have lulled myself into for some sinister purpose. If I don't go after Solas now, then what is my love for him really worth ? How can I find the strength not to approach him while he is facing me ? 

To love is to sin. 

To love is to give in to temptation regardless of the outcome, to fall into a ditch with the risk of sprawling miserably, all the while hoping to be caught up, cajoled. I turned around because I love him. I reach out to him because I love him. And I always will. 

I will always turn back. 

It is as simple as that. 

I love him enough to risk losing him, I love him enough to feel him running away from me. 

Just as he succumbs to temptation and haunts my dreams. He loves me enough to sin again. 

Such is our tragedy.  

Hell, and heaven.  

Joy, and despair. 

We keep finding each other, only to part again. Its reasoning is beyond me. And I must say I do not care, not when I know it is my only chance to see him again. 

So, my hand is outstretched, I am reaching out for him, determined to grab hold of him before he leaves me once again. I refuse to let him slip through my fingers. I'm hurrying. If I am fast enough... This time I hope he'll stay, bathe me in his comforting embrace and never hurt me again. I hope he'll pick me up. Maybe he'll even tear me away from this vile existence where I must make do with the mere memory of his image etched in my mind to ease my pain. I reach out because to love is to want. I reach out because despite the despair he causes me, nothing will change the way I feel about him. The grass at my feet hits my pajama bottoms. The air whips my face. 

The moonlight caresses my skin. 

It feels nice. 

It is too good to be true. 

Where are we ? 

I feel myself being pulled back, but I'm moving forward.  

Solas's eyes widen.  

I'm going to find him, my love. 

My legs feel heavy. Suddenly, I feel as if I am thousands of feet in the air. My breathing stops, I am being pulled back. A storm rages, but it doesn't exist. An army of arms holds me back, but I hold on. The woods are calm, undisturbed by our presence, and yet I am shaken. An immense weight weighs on my shoulders. 

I know I won’t make it. 

Solas's silhouette is blurring, it begins to disappear, yet I've only taken three steps. Do they really count when I'm about to stumble ? My mind goes blank. There he goes. He is slipping through my fingers as naturally as a current of water, as fatally as the destiny he is trying to impose on us despite my reluctance. And I am unable to stop him. Yet again... He leaves me behind. 

My hands feel sore. I need to scream. 

Solas is running away from me. 

But I love him. So, I reach out, further this time. 

Enough to see him go and continue to tear me apart a little more, I love him. He takes my heart with him. I can feel it throbbing in the palm of his hand, Solas won't let go. He has held on to it all the way. I can feel him clinging to it. 

When he leaves, I feel vacant once more. My chest has been emptied. And when I finally reach the tree, Solas is no longer here with me. 

I am alone. 

It happened again, he left me. 

The sky is falling, the world is crumbling all around me as my spirit starts to shake. The woods are empty, and I am all that remains. As well as the darkness emanating from the depths of the forest. It is about to devour me. 

In a few seconds, it will banish me. 

I do not even bother looking for him. Solas could be somewhere else, behind me or a few miles away, waiting for me, hoping I'll give him another chance to catch up. It is plausible. These are possibilities whose veracity I've tested many times before. Only, now I know he is gone. He is really gone, and he is not coming back. I do not hold it against him. 

Rather, I thank him. 

His weakness offers us respite, and as much as it shocks and breaks me, it comforts me in the idea that he remains the one I loved. That divine sinner whose goodness is matched only by his regret and sorrow. My benefactor. 

My tormentor. 

I do not care if he leaves, not when I know he will come back to me. I know he will. Because Solas loves me. He will visit me again, because it is our destiny : the tragedy that is our history. An insurmountable sorrow. 

It is a vast wound, left wide open as a token of his kindness, which he tries to heal through his visits when midnight approaches and he requires my presence. That is how he loves me, as best as he can. Deep down, I have always known this. Or rather : I consented to it. I have accepted this burden from the moment our eyes met, from the moment he took my hand to close the gap. Sometimes, I can even feel it. His presence on my body, the caress of his kisses, the fiery breath between his lips. I remember it all. 

Tormented soul by his divine duty. 

I would not trade this reality for the world. I will love him no matter what. I won't stop trying to reach him, I won't stop looking for ways out so that we can have our second chance. 

No, I would not trade it for anything else. 

Not even as an immense pain lacerates my chest. Not even as he runs away from me and leaves me to mourn him. 

Not even as my soul is being torn apart. 

Because this is what love is about. And I love him. Endlessly. 

[tired-truffle]

Latest Fanfics - Opening Lines

Rules: post the beginning lines of your most recent 10 published fanfics, then attempt to tag 10 people!

Thank you @opal-apparition and @theluckywizard for the tags ❤️

~The following fics are all dragon age except for one ‘cause I can’t get enough~

All links lead to AO3 as I haven’t posted all these fics on Tumblr yet

1. Something’s Gotta Give (CullenxLavellan, Will be complete June 12th 2025, E) - “Shala Nar Asa’ma’lin (Protect your sister). Make sure she is safe, guard her with your life if you have to.” Ever since Rae had left for the Conclave at the behest of the First, her mother’s command had echoed in her ears. She’d ensured her sister’s safety for twenty years, taught her to fight and survive in a world that did not care for them. The first thing Rae had done with those skills was insist to the Keeper that she be the representative from their clan to spy on the Conclave - potentially the most influential meeting of the century, a chance for the Chantry, the templars and the mages they oppressed to meet and form a treaty.

2. One Plus Two Makes Three (CullenxLavellanxTrevelyan, Complete, M) - Competing for the affection of the same girl as another guy could be an exhilarating game, but after a period of playful tension and uncertainty, the thrill began to fade. Emotions inevitably entered the mix, and with those emotions came a sense of attachment that made Ash's skin crawl. He was out the door before she could put her panties on - still damp from the previous night's passion, now stiffening as they dried in the morning air.

3. Sweater Weather (CullenxLavellan, Complete, E) - The fingers of Father Winter wrapped themselves around Cordelia’s spine and set her to shivering. Her innate pyromancy typically kept her from feeling the worst of the chill, even in the glacial mountains of Skyhold the cold had been nothing more than a mild irritant at best. Yet, after a full day of using her magic to the point of draining herself almost entirely, her mana reserves were low, and her natural heat abandoned her. Fixing up their home in the middle of winter may not have been her brightest idea, but once inspiration struck, she couldn't resist diving headfirst into the project. A distraction from her tumultuous emotions, she knew this, yet she wasn't ready to confront everything she'd discovered at the Exalted Council.

4. I Love You, I’m Sorry (CullenxLavellan, Complete, M) - Knock, knock, knock, a sharp, firm tapping at the door to her small wooden cabin. The sound sliced through the quiet, pulling Ash's attention away from the pages of her book - a loan from Dorian that she’d already read many times over, but she’d always been a sucker for romance. Especially smutty romance.

5. A Lesson In Humour (AlistairxOC, Complete, T) - “Right.” Alistair's fingers drummed against the table, slightly sticky from spilled ale. “You want me to teach you how to notice when someone’s telling a joke?”

Back as straight as a board, Lux shifted in her seat. “That’s correct.”

His lips pursed as he considered her request. “I appreciate your confidence in my skills of wit and humour, but I’m rather curious as to why you’d choose me, specifically.”

6. Taking Dicks and Taking Pics (CullenxTrevelyan, Complete, E) - Never before had Astoria felt so insatiable. All it had taken was a little taste of a bashful blush when he’d been proven wrong, and she’d been hooked. From that moment on, Cullen had taken up permanent residence in her thoughts. That lopsided smirk that tugged at the scar on his upper lip, the crow's feet around his eyes that crinkled when he chuckled. Ugh, he was undeniably, irritatingly handsome.

7. Cadaver Hearts (EmmrichxRook, Complete, M) - Steady breathing trailed over the top of her head and through her mussed hair. Lithe fingers ran up and down her sternum, absentmindedly following the raised tissue like a map. His delicate wrist was free of the many bangles Aster adored but found uncomfortable when they dug into her sides as they slept cuddled together. She was relatively certain that if Emmrich had a choice, he’d never take them off. They were as much a part of him as his pencil mustache, though she’d never ask him to remove that. She enjoyed the way it tickled her upper lip or cheek in chaste kisses.

8. My Soul to Keep (ReaderxViktor—Arcane, In-Progress, M) - The room was unfamiliar. Shelves of leather-bound books lined the walls, trinkets scattered around - at first glance seemingly random, but once you gave it more thought, their placement was nothing if not precise. A worn leather couch sat at the centre of the space, facing the shelves, two end tables on either side. A cozy, wine-red rug slipped beneath a coffee table stained with water rings, remnants of long-forgotten mugs. A modest kitchen sat off to your right, tiled with a plain off-white hexagonal pattern, and to your left—

A desk, cluttered with odds and ends, papers stacked high, but your gaze was drawn to the figure turned towards you.

9. Gentle Creatures (Cole&Lavellan&Merrill, Complete, G) - “Oh, aren’t they just dreadfully cute?” Merrill cooed as she trailed her fingers gently between the nug’s ears. “I can see why Sister Nightingale is so fond of them.”

Lavellan smiled, a nug in her lap and another snuffling at her bare toes - her stockings exposing most of her feet. “If someone had told me that Leliana, the left hand of the Divine and infamous cutthroat rogue, bred nugs, I’d have laughed in their face.”

“Father and son, second of his name.” Cole, who had taken quite the fascination with the nugs, had crouched down, his face level with one of Leliana’s favourites. “She misses her first, but honours his memory.”

10. Petals in a Storm (AlistairxMahariel, Complete, T) - A year. It had been a year since Adhlea had last seen or had any non-formal contact with Alistair. She received the occasional letter from the crown - as Teryna of Gwaren, it was her duty to report her taxes collected and any threats posed to her lands - and while he had signed all correspondence, she doubted he’d done more than take a cursory glance at most. However, it hadn’t stopped her from ripping the first letter to shreds and then sobbing over the remains.

Tagging: @celestialteapot @bibutterflies and anyone else who would like to participate!