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#lavellan x blackwall
a-driftamongopenstars · 4 months
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no time lost; inquisitor x blackwall;
I'm having feels for these two again, so I prompted myself from this prompt list. i feel so many feels. also on ao3
9. "i cannot bare to be apart from you anymore."
Blackwall has forgotten all about what intimacy is like.
The fire of lust that warms his skin, the cloud of pleasure, covering his mind. But most importantly, a lover’s gaze, unashamed and yearning for him.
He basks in the warmth of the aftermath. Inquisitor, bare in his arms and only for him to see, rests. He would greedily hide her from the moon, so that only his eyes may see the beauty of her body.
Blackwall loves those moments, the very edge between nightfall and dawn. Nothing but the sound of crackling fire in the hearth, not even a stray snowflake from the flurry outside disturbs them. The castle sleeps, but he and the Inquisitor are awake still.
Sylani blinks slowly, her head cradled against his shoulder. He feels her long hair, falling down her shoulders, a rare sight - and all the more precious. Her hand rests against his chest, and her calloused fingertips brush against his skin, above his slowly thumping heartbeat.
His fingertips brush against her breasts, softness caught under his rough hands. Her body shivers, pressing closer, seeking refuge and trusting him.
How could he deserve such tenderness of touch? How could he deserve her?
Blackwall moves his hand, taking Sylani’s, bringing it against his lips. Her fingers, her knuckles, her palm, and then her wrist. He feels her heartbeat rise, and kisses the throb of the pulse.
“I never want this night to end,” she whispers, caressing his cheek. He leans into the touch, savouring the warmth of her palm against it. Sylani never shies away from the bristle of his beard, nor from the tired crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes as he looks at her.
“Neither do I. None of it.”
He takes her in his arms and guides her down to the bed. Ever careful not to crush her, but utterly unable to stop the current of thoughts that she brings upon him. All want aside, a tide of affection washes over him as he presses her against the bed.
“I cannot bear to be apart from you anymore,” he mouths against her neck. And he means it, every word, every syllable, and he knows he must impress it against her skin to make the meaning known.
“You don’t have to be,” she whispers in-between the quiet sighs. Blackwall feels the circle of her arms around him, her fingers in his hair. And he feels the truth of her words, too. Her embrace makes it known where he must remain - in her arms. No matter what.
“My Lady,” he kisses her ear, the earlobe, then the delicate pointed angle.
Sylani smiles, and he kisses her smile, too. Irresistible, he finds her.
The night continues, but the time slows down. Perhaps, it is the magic of the castle, or the more delicate magic of love and love making. But Blackwall loses count of minutes, of hours, submerged in the Inquisitor’s affection. 
And there is no time lost.
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itsyasyall · 2 years
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Really not feeling like finishing any sketch lately so here some Tharell/Blackwall
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wardenrainwall · 1 year
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Cullen woke with a quiet moan, to the feel of lips trailing down his chest, his stomach. “Briar,” he murmured, eyes still closed as he slid a hand into her hair. With her soft hands on his thighs, Cullen lost himself in the feel of her warm wet mouth. Long minutes later when she began to trail her lips back up his stomach, he finally opened his eyes and looked at her.
And the last several days came rushing back to him. Blackwall. “Briar,” he repeated her name, this time sharper as he gripped her bare hips to halt her movements. She gave him a small smile and leaned down to brush her lips against his.
“I love you,” she breathed against his mouth. And oh, Maker he wanted to give in. But they had already tried this, and she had stopped them. She reached up, slid one hand into his hair at the nape of his neck, and rubbed the tip of her nose against his as she pressed her chest to his.
“I know,” Cullen said, his voice a little ragged and strained with want. He brought a hand up to gently grip her jaw, to look into her eyes. “You have nothing to prove to me, Briar,” he insisted. Because the last thing he wanted was for her to feel guilty the next time she thought about Blackwall.
Briar turned her head into his hand and kissed his palm. “I love you, and I have missed you. I want you,” she looked up and met his gaze once more. “Don’t you want to make love to your wife?”
Cullen let out a groan as she shifted her hips against his. “Maker,” he rasped. “Briar, you know I do,” he couldn’t help but rock his hips. “But I cannot bear you regretting-” 
She kissed him, cutting off her words. “Cullen, my husband, I love you,” her jaw quavered, “Blackwall is alive, and I love him. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about anything anymore, but I know that right now, I want you.”
Staring into her eyes for long moments, Cullen waged a war with himself. His desire and love for her. And if she chose to leave him, then he’d have these memories of her. He skimmed a hand down her thigh, over the tattoo that matched Blackwall’s he drew in a breath. Tumbling her onto her back, he kissed her fiercely and her legs hooked around his waist.
continue Reading on AO3
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inky-does-art · 10 months
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Found a friend who's just as obsessed with him as I am @blackwallmancer
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kissingagrumpygiant · 10 months
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a very fun and cozy comm for @bigfreckledears of their Atlas Lavellan and Blackwall 💕
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lydybyrd · 12 days
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They’re Married ✨
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pebsterino · 2 years
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My friend’s Inqy and Blackwall !
I had to sketch them coz im obsessed with these two 🥺
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morssolamors · 3 months
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I needed to practice so I took the opportunity and made these lovebirds, guys guys they love each other very much🥰❤️❤️
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kashkadavr · 5 months
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Happy Dragon Age day ^3^
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imdoingaokay · 1 year
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R!Companions If The Inquisitor Dies
(A/N) I like angst. Sowwy.
I’m a Cullen girlie so I started thinking of what he would be like if his Inky died and… I made this.
Also, I want to say that, without The Inquisitor, I genuinely don’t think The Inquisition would last that long. And I don’t think it’s because The Inquisition would lack leadership or anything, I think it would lack the draw or the figurehead that would garner the support needed to maintain it. So it’s kind of implied that the Inquisition disbands. 
It is also implied that this all takes place a while after Corypheus is defeated… Except for Solas’ part (hehehehe)
TW: Death, descriptions of death, burning and burying (idk maybe you’re claustrophobic), and more sadness.
Major Spoilers
Sorry again, love you pookie bear
Blackwall/Thom Rainer: Blackwall watches The Inquisitor fall, he tried to shield them, but it all happened too fast, far too fast for him to realize what was happening. He’s rushing over to his friend as fast as possible as if that’ll prevent them from dying, but once he sees how limp The Inquisitor is, even he knows that his friend is dead.
His only comfort is that their death was quick and hopefully, painless. He’ll throw himself into the drink for a little while. Just for the period of time right before and after The Inquisitor’s funeral. Afterward, he stays with The Inquisition for some time. He does what he can, making the adjustment.
He leaves much later, whether to the custody of the Grey Wardens or himself, but he never forgets his friend, never forgets what they did for him.
Romanced, he’s rushing over to his lover, scooping them up in his arms while he pulls them away. He begs them to open their eyes and pleads with the Maker to not take them away… not yet. But when the battle is over, and the rest of the party sees Rainer and The Inquisitor, it’s obvious that their friend and his lover his gone.
He drinks for a bit longer than he would if he was just a friend, and is less able to help around Skyhold. With what little he is doing, he feels like a coward, but he simply can’t will himself to get up and help. 
Eventually, he’ll leave like he would before, but as he watches them burn or bury his lover’s body, he realizes that a part of him will be locked away in his lover. He’ll still be him, but he’ll be unable to show the same love and devotion to anyone else.
Cassandra: Cassandra is immediately slicing the bastard who killed her friend, and with a quick swipe of her blade, the offender is gone. She still turns to her friend and attempts to wake them, but after feeling for their pulse, even she realizes that her friend is dead. She solemnly waits for the rest of the group to gather around and help her transport her friend's body back to Skyhold, as is most likely the one sending the letter to Leliana of the Inquisitor’s death. Initially, she thinks of taking the role of Inquisitor, only to immediately reject the idea. However, she continues to work tirelessly to help the rest of The Inquisition deal with the death of their leader, but it’s hard. She also tries to help the lover of The Inquisitor, but even though she tries, she can’t seem to find the right words to comfort them. She’s struggling too, The Inquisitor was her friend as well.
Romanced, she’s immediately dragging her lover away, crying out for them, but even she has to accept that she has lost another lover.
She does everything she would if the pair wasn’t together, but she officially swears off love. No one else can measure up to Regalyan or her Inquisitor. And with her focus now on the Seekers and The Inquisition, Cassandra finds herself unable to focus on things like love.
Cole: He knows immediately that The Inquisitor is gone. It doesn’t help, of course. All he does is shout for his friend, but once the battle dies down, Cole watches the rest of the group gather around the motionless Inquisitor. Cole whispers that their friend is dead, which potentially leads to some angry words being thrown at him, depending on who is present.
He stays around Skyhold, mostly helping those who grieve The Inquisitor. He spends most of his time with The Inquisitor’s love interest if they had one. He finds his efforts fruitful, as some of those he attempts to help accept it far easier than some. But the ones that don’t accept his help, Cole knows they need it the most. So he sends others to help instead, people willing to talk to them, and comfort them. Part of him feels The Inquisitor’s spirit from far away, and he hopes they aren’t too upset with his antics.
He’s just trying to help, after all. Kind of like The Inquisitor.
Cullen Rutherford: He hears about it right after Leliana, a letter attached to a bird flies through the hole in his roof and down the ladder right to his desk. He absentmindedly opens the letter, where he reads frantic, scrawled words that culminate in some of the most dreadful words he’d ever read.
“The Inquisitor is dead.”
He rushes over to Leliana, who is already speaking to Josephine, and all three retreat to the War Room where they begin to discuss what the next steps are. Cullen does his best to put on a brave face, he does what he can to provide some sense of stability, but he’d be a liar if he wasn’t struggling himself. The Inquisitor seemed so… invincible, so strong, how were they able to survive so much and then just… die? It didn’t make any sense.
The most Cullen is able to do is send a prayer to Andraste, asking her to give The Inquisitor a safe journey to The Golden City, they deserved that much.
Eventually, Cullen will head home, to his siblings in South Reach, where they will accept him with open arms. Cullen continues to live on, spending time with his family, teaching his nephew chess, and sending letters to his friends in The Inquisition. He sets up a clinic for former templars and even gets a Mabari down the line.
But most importantly, he keeps on living.
Romanced, he was just thinking about them. He was sitting at his desk, musing over some paperwork while his mind drifted to a few days ago. He was laying in bed with his lover, while they clung to his chest, asking for reasons not to leave on this trip. He had laughed, petting their hair gently as he said “You have to go, my love.”
He watched them sigh and get up, their hand still lingering on his arm, “I love you” they had whispered. 
“I love you t-”
“Cullen.” He heard, Leliana standing in front of his desk. He smiled for a moment, about to greet her, but her furrowed eyebrows and deepened frown told her there was nothing to smile about. Her next words were careful and gentle, but still, they got their point across. “I’m afraid that The Inquisitor perished in the ensuing battle.” She said, watching Cullen’s face morph into something unexplainable. He furrowed his own brown and opened his mouth as if he was about to ask what kind of joke this was, but as he saw the painfully sympathetic look on Leliana’s face, he knew.
He moved so suddenly his chair fell backward, he could barely look at the desk where he and his lover had-
“We need to discuss… the next steps…” Cullen shook his head, his breathing becoming rapid, all he could hear was his own heartbeat, that and the singing of…
“Perhaps we should-” Leliana began, only to watch Cullen pass by her. But with every step he took, he felt his legs slowly become heavier and heavier until he all but collapsed on the bridge that connected the battlements to the rotunda. Leliana quickly followed after him, attempting to comfort him. His head hurts, and he can’t seem to stop hearing the agonizing sound of the lyrium, calling out to him.
Somehow he gets into his bed, unable to work for the rest of the day. When his lover’s body comes back from wherever they were sent, he’s in a bit of a better place. Maker, it crushes him if he sees that they were still holding onto his coin. He prays that they won’t go too far, that they’ll wait for him on the other side, and that somehow, they’ll be there when he dies. He begs them not to go too far, that he’ll be with them soon, that he loves them, and he’ll never forget them. 
It takes more time, but eventually, he finds himself back in South Reach, where he opens a clinic for templars and lives his life. But even then, he waits for the day when he dies, the day he can finally see his lover again.
Until then, he’ll keep living.
Dorian Pavus: Shoots the bastard as soon as he sees his friend fall. Dorian surrounds The Inquisitor with a shield and tries to feel for a pulse. But their body is still and limp, Dorian knows what has happened. 
He attends the funeral, out of respect, and out of a sense of loyalty. But he can’t bear to watch the body be buried or burned, Maker he can’t watch. He’ll leave, deciding to focus his energy on Tevinter rather than The Inquisition, which is something he planned, but he had wished he would have more time before he had to return. He misses his friend every day and hopes that whatever afterlife they’re in, if they are in one, hopefully, they’ll save him a seat and a glass of wine for when he eventually kicks the bucket.
Romanced, he cries out, rushing over to his lover. He’s in denial as he tries to heal his Amatus, begging them to open their eyes. He pleads with the Maker, begging them to take him instead. He gets angry right after, angrily shouting at them “Why didn’t you get away? Why didn’t you run to me?” He has to be pulled off, has to be taken away from his lover’s body, as he begins to sob into his lover’s armor. It’s painful to watch, but nothing more painful than what Dorian feels.
As his lover’s funeral draw near, he throws himself into wine. And intends to drink himself to death, but then he gets sent a letter from another Magister, Maevaris.
He tells himself that he’ll keep living, at least, for The Inquisitor’s sake. But he’ll never love again, because he’s too busy, and because no other man will ever be the same as his Inquisitor.
Iron Bull: He shouts for his friend immediately, destroying the poor sod who killed The Inquisitor before they can desecrate the body further. Bull has seen many, many dead bodies, but he never imagined one day seeing The Inquisitor. Of course, he’s imagined the necessary steps of subduing The Inquisitor if they ever tried to betray him out of nowhere, but he would never imagine them like this.
He attends the funeral of The Inquisitor and tries to figure out what the next step is for him, for The Chargers. 
He’ll leave eventually, as his place was by The Inquisitor, but with them gone, there’s no need for him or his crew. He goes out drinking with The Chargers before they leave Skyhold, and he invites the rest of the inner circle, encouraging them to tell stories of The Inquisitor’s antics. It turns into a more pleasant night than anyone expected. When he leaves, he hopes that he left the rest of his friends with more positive memories than sad ones.
Romanced, all he can get out is a weak “kadan?”
He doesn’t cry, not yet, not here. He waits until he’s back in Skyhold, where he sits in the tavern, unable to stop thinking about the way his lover fell, the way their hair looked, their mouth, their eyes… Maker, their eyes. All of a sudden, he feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up, seeing Krem. It’s a simple “You okay, boss?” But that’s all it takes for Bull to let lose a torrent of tears. He clings so tightly to the dragon tooth necklace his lover gave him that he thinks he might break it. Krem and the rest of The Chargers comfort their leader the best they can, but everyone realizes that there isn’t much that can be done, as the love Bull held for his Inquisitor was far deeper than he ever described up until that moment. But The Chargers will be there for him. It’s Krem that makes the comment that The Inquisitor isn’t really gone, as the dragon tooth still is with Bull, 
“Which means something, doesn’t it Boss?”
Bull can’t help but agree, Krem’s right. The Inquisitor hasn’t left him, and he hasn’t left them either. Even when he leaves Skyhold with the rest of The Chargers, he hasn’t left them. They’re always together.
Josephine Montilyet: Josephine has the heavy task of informing the general public and the nobles of the Inquisitor’s death. Her friend’s death hurt, but she was relieved that her amount of work seemed to distract her from the heavy amount of pain she felt. She’ll leave eventually, but not without saying goodbye to her friend during their funeral. She ends up back in Antiva, working to see that her family’s business is upheld, especially after all the work her friend had put into helping her restore her family’s fortune. Platonically, she takes The Inquisitor’s death the best out of everyone but it also helps that she wasn’t present for her friend's death in the first place.
Romanced, she was not expecting it. She was minding her own business, scribbling down a letter for some high-ranking noble in Ferelden. Then all of a sudden, Leliana walks in, solemn and quiet. Leliana allows Josephine to send her a letter before Leliana asks Josephine to take a walk with her. After all, Leliana thinks her friend deserves some privacy before she hears the news. So Leliana ushers an oblivious Josephine into the War Room, where Cullen was already waiting.
Everyone could hear Josephine’s anguished cries from any corner of Skyhold. Josephine clings to Leliana, unable to support her weight as her mind tries to picture her lover in various different positions. Her mind immediately goes to what she will say to the nobility, to the chantry, but Leliana hushes her diplomat, claiming that she’ll take care of it. Josephine doesn’t want her to, but she can’t seem to get out any words in between her sobs.
She moves back to Antiva fairly soon, once all is taken care of. She begins to focus more so on her family and their trading business, potentially using this as an excuse to avoid any marriage proposals given by other nobles.
Leliana: Aside from those in the direct party, Leliana is the first to find out. She’s the one to tell Josephine, Cullen, and the many soldiers and spies under her. She prefers to be the person who tells The Inquisitor’s lover if they don’t already know, and she watches them crumble or slowly slink away, unable to truly cope with the news.
She spends time praying, asking why The Maker would take someone like The Inquisitor away when the world still needed them. 
If Hardened, she realizes she will get no answer, and furiously draws away from The Maker, deciding to spend less time praying and more time doing, as The Maker has yet to hear her pleas so far. 
Softened, she’s more kind to herself, she believes that The Maker must’ve taken The Inquisitor back because it was just their time, that it had to be, some good reason… that’s why Leliana has lost someone yet again… That has to be it.
Sera: Watching Inky crumple has her tearing her attention away from whatever they’re fighting. She calls out for help, and attempts to wake her friend, but to no avail. As the battle dies down, she watches as the rest of her friends gather around her. Sera’s confused, after all, The Inquisitor isn’t supposed to die. Not yet. They’ve survived so much! Haven, nobles, that dragon… how… how do they just… die?
She cries at camp, after hiding from everyone else. She feels ashamed of her tears, it takes the sight of someone like Blackwall or Varric to cry for her to feel less bad about her tears. And even then, she still hides them away.
She doesn’t stay in Skyhold for long, unable to attend her friend’s funeral. She believes it’s stupid to hold a funeral for someone when there’s work to be done, so she leaves. She gets back to work as a Red Jenny and never looks back.
Romanced, she cries out. She shakes them, kisses their face, anything to get them to wake. For one moment, she wishes she had magic to heal the wounds her lover had. It’ll take at least two people to drag her away from her Inky, and even then, she’s kicking and screaming. She’s reminded of her dreams where she watches her lover die, she’s reminded of her Inky kissing her cheek and saying in such a stupid voice “I’m not going anywhere”
That stupid liar! That stupid, perfect liar! Why would they lie to her? Why would they say they would never leave when there they were, gone?
She stays for the funeral before leaving, she thinks her lover deserves that much. But even then, she’s only there to say goodbye, which she doesn’t even say. It’s more of a “see you soon” if anything. She carries the memory of her lover with her, which is good enough for her.
Solas: Solas watches his friend stumble, Corypheus was recently killed, the orb destroyed, and his friend… who weakly falls to the ground. He’s torn between leaving and staying. On one hand, if he leaves, he’ll avoid the tormented look of agony The Inquisitor’s friends and lovers will hold. But they might also think that he was the one who killed them. But Solas can’t bring himself to leave, so he goes to his friend’s side. They’re gone by the time he catches them, and Solas quietly wishes that The Inquisitor didn’t have to die. He watches his friend’s inner circle climb the stairs and listens to the heartbreak that follows. While his friend’s body is carried away, Solas slips away and disappears, in hopes nobody will care or notice he’s gone. He continues his quest to tear down the veil, and with seemingly nobody to stop him, he seems to be well on his way.
Romanced, he rushes immediately to his lover’s side, but the moment he reaches them, his Inquisitor is gone. It isn’t relieving, watching his ex-lover die, the one person he expected to keep him tethered to the idea that this world may still deserve a chance. He leaves once the body is carried away, and continues his journey, but he is so much sadder. Because, at least if his vhenan was still alive, he could see them in his dreams. Now, all that he sees is their body, as if the spirits of the fade are taunting him with his failures. He hopes, in a way, that he’ll come across his lover’s spirit somewhere, so he can apologize, so can confess everything. But with the vastness of the fade, with the low probability of it all, Solas comes to the conclusion that perhaps he doesn’t deserve such closure, he just wished he could give that to his vhenan instead.
Varric Tethras: He doesn’t realize they're dead at first, focusing more on the hordes of enemies he’s dealing with. He shouts out that The Inquisitor is down, but that’s about it. Eventually, when the last of their enemies are taken down, Varric gets a chance to realize what the fuss is all about. When he hears the suffering cries of friends or potentially a lover, Varric realizes what happened. He hangs his head and lets out a quiet “shit” before turning away, unable to look. 
He sticks around Skyhold, helping the Inquisition the best he can before he sees he’s overstayed his welcome, which is when he returns to Kirkwall. Every once in a while, he gets reminded of The Inquisitor’s death, and how… maybe if he had noticed faster, they would still be around.
Romanced, he notices much faster. Previously, he had made a joke that he was actually unable to take his eyes off of his lover, so watching them crumple in the middle of the battle really caught his attention. After a few bolts from Bianca, he rushes over to attempt to revive his lover. Once it registers that his invincible Inquisitor is dead, he’s struck with a terrible feeling of helplessness. He holds them tightly and gives a quick prayer to Andraste or the Creators, someone who could potentially save them. But as his friends gather around him, even Varric has to come to grips with reality.
He’s more introspective in the coming days, staying close to his lover’s body as if he’s waiting for them to spring up and claim some elaborate prank. But as their body burns or is covered by layers of dirt, he accepts that it’s over.
He’ll never really get over the person that helped him move on from Bianca, the person that made him feel like he was the best version of himself. And he’s okay with that. So he just does what’s needed. As with the friendship route, he’ll stick around for a little while, and then return to Kirkwall. But every day that passes, until death finally takes him, he’ll wish for the comfort of his lover, his Inquisitor, once more.
Vivienne: She watches The Inquisitor fall, and quickly rushes over to them. A ward here, a healing spell there, she attempts to revive her colleague, but when she checks for a pulse and feels nothing, she sees that her efforts were for nothing. 
Vivienne is a great help to Skyhold and whoever The Inquisitor’s lover is, even Sera finds Vivienne around to kindly help her through her grief. Vivienne also helps The Inquisition during its more vulnerable stage of healing after The Inquisitor’s death. Once she believed her work was done, she’d eventually return to the fancy courts of Orlais, but not without being prepared to defend the late Inquisitor if anyone dare disgrace their name.
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citrusro · 1 year
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“I’m not going anywhere” 
Just some cute InquisitorxBlackwall fluff because he makes me soft 
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abigailsart · 2 years
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I forever support Cullen x Artemis Lavellan 😏💕
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spiretdoom · 1 year
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Prompt 1: Hart for @14daysdalovers
Though I don't think I'll be able to get through all the prompts this year the first prompt for this event really sparked my creative juices so here we are~
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inky-does-art · 3 months
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Feral roots calling me back home
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stay with me; inquisitor x blackwall ficlet
i think we all deserve some sleepy times with Blackwall and Inquisitor. brought to you by me being sleepy! also on ao3
Countless meetings in the war room, the weariness of travel, the midnight tinkering by the weapon table - all of it had to take a toll on the poor Inquisitor sooner or later. And Blackwall knows it has finally reached her when he finds his Lady fast asleep in a narrow alcove in one of Skyhold's many halls.
The moonlight softly shines on her face, casting shadows of the tall birches right outside. In her sleep, she is peaceful and untroubled.
Gently and with care, Blackwall kneels beside the Inquisitor and touches her hand.
She flinches, moves and blinks herself awake. What follows is a gentle smile that makes his heart ache with love.
"I must have..." she stammers, looking around. Her cheeks flush, her black hair fluffs in sleepy mess above her long pointed ears.
"Let me take you to your chambers, my Lady," Blackwall offers.
The Inquisitor concedes, her nimble fingers drowning in his palms, and allows him to guide her up the stairs.
Blackwall can tell by the drift of the moons that the hour is quite late. The stars twinkle in the dark sky, and so do the sparks inside the fireplace. It pains him to see how unlived the room looks. No scattered clothing, no signs of personal belongings and random trinkets. As if all of the Inquisitor's time and personality has been scattered across the war room and the whole of Orlesian map.
As she undresses, Blackwall stokes the fire. The warmth of it comforts him, makes him just as drowsy. He throws a few logs into the hungry flame, inviting it to be this night's protector.
"Blackwall?" the Inquisitor calls for him, and he turns. His eyes find his Lady beneath the heap of blankets for the winter's rest. Her eyes, sleepy and hopeful. "Stay with me?"
He approaches her and sits beside her. He has spent enough time with her in this very bed to render this question useless, yet every time she asks.
And every time, just like now, he says, "Of course I shall, my Lady."
The Inquisitor sleeps well that night. A long time, way past the farmers' rising, past the rooster's calls and even past the sunrise. Her head against Blackwall's chest, his arms around her frame. Nothing to disturb her rest, only the quiet gentle kisses that he presses against her forehead and awaits, awaits, awaits...
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lavellanvibes · 1 year
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You make me feel like springtime
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