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Something’s Gotta Give Revised Edition: Bosoms On The Mind
Chapter 6: Cullen is definitely NOT looking at Ash’s chest, thank you very much 😤
Read more on ao3
"I fail to see what the problem is with a mage wearing mage's robes." All the others around them pretended with varying degrees of success not to appear as though they were listening in—nosey brats.
"That doesn't mean you should be left unprotected." Gruff insistence darkened his eyes, and Ash cursed him for how handsome he looked, even while reprimanding her for her choice of attire. "I will commission the blacksmith to have something made, a chest plate, perhaps."
She nodded sagely, glancing at her chest and the useless buttons of her vest. "Thinking about my chest, were you, Commander?"
Bright pink suited his complexion; it complemented the hazel of his eyes and brought some life to his colourless cheeks. His eyes darted down to her chest before quickly scampering away to just about anywhere else. "No, um, I…I was not thinking about…" He pinched the bridge of his nose, avoiding looking at her directly. "I simply meant…I was concerned about your safety, that is all."
"Maybe you're right, I should protect my assets. Someone has to be responsible for giving you soldiers something to fight for." Her grin nearly split her face, her arm under her breasts pushing them up, if only to fluster the Commander just a little bit more.
Leliana's musical giggle fluttered up from behind her, and triumph coursed through her veins. Cullen threw his hands up in exasperation. "Maker's Breath, why do I even bother?"
Tag list: @aetherflowers @bibutterflies @carako @dogot @dragonagedorks
Something’s Gotta Give Revised Edition: Eldest Sister Syndrome
Chapter 5: Sisterly smackdown distracts Inquisition troops, and Cullen says Ash’s full first name (spoiler: it’s hot)
Read more on ao3
Dear Reader,
While you might be tempted to take my furless mamae’s side, I would advise extreme caution. All I have done since arriving in this chilly place is point her in the direction of a man who might, for once, give her some stability. Yet, she spurns me at every turn. I can scent her interest, but she refuses to follow through. It is maddening, and I will be stealing her chicken as repayment for all my unappreciated hard work.
Stay sharp as my claws,
-Sweetpea
Tag list: @aetherflowers @bibutterflies @carako @dogot @dragonagedorks
Something’s Gotta Give Revised Edition: Mommy Issues ✨
Chapter 4: Ashvalla gets a visit from mother’s past, and Cullen protects her honour 😏
Read more on ao3
WANTED: Someone for Ash to take her irritation out on
MUST HAVE: A fur mantle, broad shoulders, lip scar, a past as a templar which makes him unattainable, name that starts with C and ends in ULLEN, and to say something stupid so she can be justified
REWARD: Getting pestered by a buxom blonde
Tag list: @aetherflowers @bibutterflies @carako @dogot @dragonagedorks
Confession: I love imagining Alistair helping the warden take their armour off after surviving the battle with the archdemon. After, he would stay on his knees in front of them. Not doing anything (yet), just tenderly staring up them with so much love and adoration. His hands on their waist, hips and thighs, as he kisses at their stomach and navel, and the warden threading their fingers through his hair in praise. Followed by the most passionate "I-was-scared-i'd-lose-you" sex ever. Yeah 🚬🚬
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I haven't published anything in a hot second. Can I offer you a prologue to my longfic in this trying time?
Have a little amuse buche.
To Live on the Cusp of Death
Word count: 3,871
Rating: Unrated
(Series rating: Explicit)
Notable tags: Crisis of Faith; Survivor Guilt; Intrusive Thoughts; Suicidal Ideation; Cullen Rutherford Needs a Hug
“Have you ever witnessed a Templar in lyrium withdrawal, Knight-Captain?”
He scoffed. The concern on her face was almost sweet. “Oh, yes.”
I already know this dance, all too well.
He was unsure how much of his past Seeker Cassandra was already privy to, but he supposed if she had known the details of the disaster at Kinloch Hold she wouldn't have asked so asinine a question. Only he himself knew of his repeated—
Failed.
—attempts at weaning himself off of the substance, the drug, that he'd put himself through since the day Meredith died.
“Are you attempting to give yourself the penance of an agonizing death?” she asked carefully.
He shut his eyes tight and let out a defeated breath, “No...”
Then why did her words strike such a chord within him? Why did they sound so enticing?
“I... I don't know.”
Silence. Crashing waves. Distant wheeling gulls.
“You are a good man, Ser Cullen.”
“Am I,” he hummed his sarcasm rather than say something untoward. Drummed his fingers on the wooden planks holding his body above the water's reach.
“You would not fall to madness or cruelty as easily as did Meredith Stannard, if you were given a command. You have already demonstrated this to be true.”
More silence.
The words simmered under his skin. Should he let them boil over and spill out into the world? They could not be taken back. “If I do this thing—if I agree to help the Divine resolve this conflict—you must promise me one thing.”
“And that is?”
Cullen turned to face her; he wanted her to see the clarity in his eyes as he said this. “That you will not force me to begin using it again.”
There it was. The ultimatum.
“But you'll die without lyrium!”
“Everyone dies, Lady Pentaghast.”
⚶ ⚶ ⚶
Read the rest on AO3!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
You know how Hawke comes to Skyhold in the Inquisition? Yeah let's go.
*
The War Room doors swung open. The Inquisitor entered first, followed by Marian Hawke and Varric. Josephine and Leliana were already waiting. Cullen looked up from the reports spread before him. Marian stopped so abruptly that Varric nearly walked into her. She stared - not at the room, not at the map - at Cullen. Cullen recognized her at exactly the same moment.
"...Hawke." There was a long, dangerous silence. He closed his eyes for the briefest moment. "Oh no."
Without taking her eyes off Cullen, Marian leaned a fraction toward Varric and spoke in a perfectly serious whisper that everyone in the room could still hear.
"Shiiiiit… When did Cullen get hot?"
[Insert a very serious War Council on what the fuck the Grey Wardens are up to]
The war council dispersed at last.
Everyone had been dismissed except for a lingering handful who, as so often happened in Skyhold, found themselves talking long after the official business was done. Marian Hawke leaned casually against the great table, studying Cullen with exaggerated curiosity.
"So," Hawke said.
Cullen looked up warily. "...Yes?"
She nodded toward Ellana. "Cullen must be pretty good in bed, right?"
Ellana blinked. "...Excuse me?"
Cullen closed his eyes. "I'm standing right here."
"I know." Marian shrugged. "It'd be rude to speculate behind your back."
Varric rubbed his forehead. "We're doing this, then."
Marian continued as though no one had spoken. "He's a bit whiny the rest of the time, isn't he?"
Ellana looked genuinely puzzled. "No?"
"Honestly, Hawke,” Cullen complained.
"There, there, Curly," Varric said sympathetically. "Let her get it out of her system."
"I am not—"
Marian waved a dismissive hand, and continued talking to the Inquisitor. "I mean, the man's as rigid as an oil barrel."
Ellana considered that for a moment. "...That's not necessarily a bad thing."
“Ha!” Marian pointed triumphantly.
“Maker…” Cullen looked heavenward.
"You're adorable," Marian informed Ellana. "You answer every question as though it's perfectly reasonable."
"I thought you were asking."
"I am!" Marian answered enthusiastically and leaned in. "And he has the stamina of a whole company of templars, doesn't he?"
Ellana tilted her head thoughtfully. "He certainly is very disciplined."
"Please don't encourage her,” Cullen groaned.
"I wasn't trying to."
"Which somehow makes it worse," Varric observed.
Marian folded her arms. "And good at taking orders?"
"I... hmm," Ellana frowned.
Cullen took one decisive step toward the door. "I think I'm going to leave."
"Deserter," Varric called after him.
Marian looked genuinely offended. "What? We were having a conversation."
"I was not."
"You were present."
"Against my will."
Ellana cleared her throat. "I honestly wouldn't know."
Marian froze. "...Wouldn't know?"
Cullen stopped walking. And very slowly lifted his hands, the way you do with potentially dangerous animals. "No."
Marian looked from Ellana to Cullen and back again. Her grin spread like sunrise. "Oh."
"Oh no," Cullen muttered.
"You mean to tell me..."
"Please don't."
"...that you two haven't—"
"I really am leaving now,” Cullen announced hastily and left the room.
Marian turned and called after him at the top of her lungs. "OI, KNIGHT-CAPTAIN!"
Half the people still lingering outside the War Room turned to look. Cullen did not.
"ARE YOU A VIRGIN STILL?"
Cullen did not bother stopping. He only shouted back as he went: “NO.”
The War Room fell silent.
"And," he continued with immense dignity, "that’s Commander to you!"
"...I'm going to go too,” Ellana decided and hurried after the Commander.
Marian watched her leave and a slow grin spread across her face. "Well. The man admitted it. Cullen the Beast. You lucky girl, Inquisitor!”
Josephine, who had silently endured the entire exchange while organizing papers, finally looked up. "I confess..."
"Yes?"
"I had been under the impression Commander Cullen was rather intimidating."
"He is." Varric snorted. He jerked a thumb toward the black-haired woman standing next to him. "Hawke just happens to be completely immune."
"I regret nothing,” Marian announced, looking immensely pleased with herself. Then she hesitated. “Well… I regret most things. But I’ll never regret teasing the living daylights out of Cullen.”
Varric nodded. "That sounds more like the Hawke I know."
Calling all Dragon Age fan artists! Fill out our interest check to be notified directly when our writer pitches/artist sign up go live in August.
This interest check is optional and non-binding. The form will only ask for your email address - if completed, a link to the pitches website will be sent directly to you later in the event!
✨ Complete the Interest Check Here! ✨
The interest check will close on August 2nd. Artist Sign-Ups will open on August 3rd!
✨ Review the Event Rules and Artist Guide on our website, and save the Artist Guidelines and Timeline below!
✨ Share the Writer Sign-Up with your followers and writer friends!
Artists will create at least one new artwork within these guidelines:
Tangibly inspired by a fanfiction written during the event
Polished to the standard by the artist’s previous portfolio
Traditional Media: Must be at minimum 8x10 inches/A4
Digital Media: Must be at minimum 1000px by 1000px, 72-150 ppi
Final submission must include a square cropped preview
Adheres to event content guidelines
Adheres to the event rules regarding originality
See the full artist requirements on our Guidebook Website!
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Event Guidebook: rules, timeline, and more
Commander Rutherford's Personal Devotional Playlist
(Recovered from beneath a loose floorboard in the Commander's quarters, tucked beside a well-worn copy of Osen's Ballads and a stack of letters from someone named 'Embers'. The Commander declined to comment.)
🎧 Listen on YouTube
Take Me to Church — Hozier
The only heaven I'll be sent to
Is when I'm alone with you
Work Song — Hozier
In the low lamp light I was free
Heaven and hell were words to me
My Love Mine All Mine — Mitski
Nothing in the world belongs to me
But my love, mine, all mine, all mine
Read Chapter 19 of The Skyhold Literary Society on AO3.
Tag List
@aetherflowers @bibutterflies @carako @dogot @dragonagedorks
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Something’s Gotta Give Revised Edition: Pissing Off the Egg
Pictured here, live reenactment of Solas meeting Ash
Read more on ao3
Relief soared with downy wings when Ash spotted another elf among the throngs of humans. However, disappointment moulted her feathers—this particular elf was a condescending prick. If she’d known that, she likely would have chosen a different opener, and not: “So, what’s a knife ear like you doing in a place like this?”
His lip had practically curled as he scanned her Dalish robes and Dalish markings, his face bare of any vallaslin. Perhaps if she’d seen anything but the shiny back of his bald head, she would have thought twice about being so casual with him. Suffice it to say, he did not appreciate her sense of humour: his loss, but her current problem.
Tag List: @aetherflowers @bibutterflies @carako @dogot @dragonagedorks
all you had to do was stay, ch. 25: With or Without a Hitch
Explicit | Cullen x Lavellan | Solas x Lavellan | WC: 110k+ (WIP) | Canon Divergent - Post DAI Quest: Doom Upon All the World | Second Chance | Polyamory
Fic Summary:
The night Solas told Cordelia Lavellan the truth about her vallaslin, he pushed her away. But in his rumination, he also made a choice. A different choice. He chose to stay. He chose to tell her the truth, should they emerge victorious from the war on Corypheus. He expects anger. He expects hurt. He might even expect (eventual) acceptance. But he does not expect a second chance with the woman he loves. No, he doesn't expect that at all.
Chapter Summary: Briala requests aid. Solas subsequently grapples with domesticity.
Excerpt below the cut!
A missive delivered by one of Marquise Briala's agents, who appeared without warning through the Skyhold eluvian. Both pages are encoded via a cipher the Marquise and Sister Nightingale agreed upon following the so-called peace talks at Halamshiral.
Inquisitor Lavellan,
Forgive the haste with which I have sent this letter, but I think you'll find the matter urgent enough to warrant an unexpected visitor.
One of the minor nobles in the Dales—Lady Chelle Morveau—has hired mercenaries to harrass a clan who recently moved onto her land. More than one scout has been murdered, and hunting parties have been attacked. Intercepted correspondence has proven the lady's involvement.
Unfortunately, my people are spread thin. Thus, I've come to you for aid. I can provide you with a pair of agents: a navigator familiar with the area and a fighter skilled in setting traps on such missions. You may supplement the team however you wish, though I would recommend discretion. The entire Orlesian aristocracy knows what you look like. For both our sakes, it's best your involvement be kept quiet for the time being. My advice would be to have your arcane advisor lead your section of the party while you remain in Skyhold. He is familiar with the eluvians but would not raise as many eyebrows if anyone managed to escape and alert their employer.
I've enclosed everything we know about the mercenaries in a separate document. Any questions can be directed to the agents I've provided. Directions to where they are stationed are included in the document; they will wait until the end of the month for the arrival of your people.
'Ma serannas,
Briala, Marquise of the Dales
Read the rest here | Start the fic here!
Tag List:
Tag List
@aetherflowers @carako @dogot @dragonagedorks
