@90smallaesthetic sent me this really fucking cute Picrew and I figured I’d share it and tag some people! As usual, I made myself ready to go to Horror Nights lmao
I’m tagging @ubernoxa, @imacrowcawcaw, @karrotkate, @satingrass-maidensfair, @whateveryousay-dude, @edgeofgreta, @satans-helper, @juvinadelgreko, @dramaticjupiter, and anyone else who wants to! Also, please feel free to ignore me it you want! 🖤
fyi to the people i tag, it didnt look like there was a skin tone changer at first but its just transparent in the right corner✨
tagging:
@royalcarrotcake @chile–anyway–so @dan-wylds @gui1ttripping @sleepyselkiesiren @theveryawkwardextrovert @future-you-is-disappointed @midnight–royale @ourladyovsorrowz @x-ma-cherie-x @devil-die @i-like-buttons @gothic-but-will-fight-u @adw520 @toothpaste-and-oj and anyone else that wants to do it !!✨
@3rrol ‘s Errol, @autum-the-apprentice ‘s Autum, @collective-laugh ‘s Alejandra aaaaaaand @remi-demi94 ‘s Remy all dressed and ready for a day of fun in the sun!
(Gabriel’s taking the photo!)
This was so fun to draw! I love drawing apprentices, especially when they’re my friends c: )
Word Count: 1002 (unedited)
Pairing: Cullen x Unnamed Female Inquisitor
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: One use of the ‘f’ word, Pregnancy announcement, implied nudity
Happy Father’s Day!
***
Donate!
The morning sun rises far earlier than Cullen was prepared for. He blinks awake, cheek pressed into the pillow, and he groans, deciding that he doesn’t want to move for the next...forever. It’s easier, he thinks, to just pretend like the work would just stay downstairs if he simply refused to get up. Thankfully, he isn’t training any of the soldiers today - he’s got a War Room meeting in the afternoon, and is up to his gills in paperwork, but his bed is so warm, and the lull of sleep is already calling back to him.
“Good night’s rest, love?”
Cullen just smiles tiredly, eyes still shut as his head lulls to the side, following her voice. “Best I’ve had in weeks, thanks to you.” He finally opens his eyes, sitting up some, drinking her in. He smiles - he knew that the Inquisitor was a beautiful woman from the moment he laid eyes on her, fell a little bit in love with her the first time she approached him back at Haven.
She’d been just as stumbling and awkward as he felt, and he couldn’t believe that the supposed ‘Chosen of the Maker’ was sparing him the time of day, outside of Inquisition matters, of course. Everything they do, is for the Inquisition.
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” She smiles at him, lopsided and sweet. He’d only seen her in battle once, and in training countless times, and learned that all the stories were true - she was a fierce adversary, and a hailstorm of power. But moments like these almost convinced Cullen that she’d never seen a day of hardship in her life, that she holds nothing but memories of tenderness and love.
Then her hand touches his, and he feels the hard calluses, sees the weariness in her eyes, and he’s glad that he can help the softness, at least for a short while.
“I could certainly get used to this view in the mornings.” He smiles, awkward and shy, though much more confident since the moment she’d finally approached him - that day, their kiss on the battlements. He had been so certain no kiss would ever exceed it, but every kiss between them was just as electric, just as sweet.
Cullen never thought he deserved sweet. He didn’t deserve the softness, didn’t deserve the smiles and the jokes, the way she looked at him. He didn’t deserve the glances he caught at the War Table, didn’t deserve the kisses she stole from him across his desk. He didn’t deserve to touch her, to look at the little coin she wore round her throat, to remind her of him.
She liked to remind herself of him, while she was away.
He hated when she left, when she took her small party to whatever reach of Ferelden or Orlais the Inquisition dragged her, but he knew that it was necessary - the Greater Good, and all that.
She kisses him again, smiling at him. “What’s got you in such a good mood?”
“Like you don’t already know.” Cullen chuckles, kissing her again, rubbing small circles into her thighs. “Mm, I wish you could stay here every night.”
“I will, soon.” She promises, straddling him, hands on his chest, “Every night, you and me and…”
It was time for them to rush Corypheus. It was time, the moment they’d all been waiting for. He was so worried for her, that he would lose her, but he couldn’t just...how was he supposed to tell her, that he was worried he would lose her, everything they’d worked for.
“You and me.” She smiles, nose pressed to his, kissing him again. “And our baby.”
Cullen’s heart nose dives right to his stomach and his eyes widen, “Our…?” His throat dries and he looks down to her stomach, “Our baby?”
She nods, unmarked hand on his cheek, her smile tentative, “Our baby.”
He kisses her, suddenly, arms around her, holding her in his lap. He laughs, smiling wider than he thought he ever could, “Our baby.” He repeats, quietly, reverently. Then, he tenses, “You’re really pregnant? Now?”
He thinks of Corypheus. He thinks of all the worst things that could happen to her, like he has a million times before - red Templars and rogue mages and demons and the fucking rifts. He wants to keep her safe, to keep her within the walls of Skyhold, but he knows that that isn’t a possibility, in spite of her...condition. She is the Inquisitor, and she is supposedly destined to save the world.
Cullen couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.
“I know.” She says, “But...I am. We’re having a baby.”
He can be worried later. He kisses her again, holding her close. It is soft, and sweet, and the moment is far more tender than Cullen is used to. “I love you.” He promises, “I love them.” He couldn’t imagine how terrified she was. She needed him to be strong right now - his fears could wait. Cullen knew that the last thing she needed was a groveling mess. He was happy - he’d always wanted to start a family, and the Inquisitor, his love, was the only person he trusted - loved - enough.
She smiles, hands on his cheeks, and he can feel the anchor pulsate, “I love you, Cullen. So, so very much.” He presses a soft kiss to the familiar green mark, and smiles against her hand.
He would pray today, he decides. He doesn’t have any pressing matters to attend to until this evening, and the paperwork could wait. They need whatever luck they could get, and he would do anything to keep her safe.
He wanted to be there with her, on the front lines. But, just like her, he had his role to play. He was the Commander, the Force behind the Inquisition. He would stand behind her, ensure that she was as safe as he could possibly ensure. For her. For him. For their baby.
A person's favorite color, favorite animal, and favorite flavor of ice cream can say a lot about them when considering the answers as a whole. Some prime examples I've heard are:
~ Silver, Artic Wolf, and Mint Chocolate Chip.
~ Pink/Yellow, Putu Bird, and Cotton Candy.
~ Light Brown, Tree Kangaroo, and Rum Raisin.
~ Green, Pig, and Cookie Dough.
Mine are:
~ Burgundy, Fox, and Moose Tracks.
Tag some friends and get a sense of who they are! :)
Queens and Caboodling - Morrigan x F! Warden Smut (18+ Only)
I had an intense hankering for Morrigan and a Female Warden, so happy Pride Month everybody!!
Word Count: 1827
Rating: Smut (18+)
Warnings: Pregnancy mention(s), light teasing, bickering, AFAB lesbian sex
Samara Cousland was a woman of refined birth. She came from one of the oldest houses of Ferelden, and had been trained to be a perfect lady, and a perfect warrior. She was beautiful, in face and figure and personality, and her smile brought light to the dreariest of days.
Morrigan was none of these things.
She had been told she was beautiful, once, but that had been from Samara, and Morrigan still didn't know if she could trust the many, many compliments she received from the naive lady. She tried to believe them but…she was crass, and blunt, and angry - gods, she was always angry. It was easier that way, to pretend like nothing was alright in the world because, really, what good could possibly outweigh what was to come.
Instead, she minds her place. She distances herself from the group, eats only what she is given, and speaks only when something relevant crosses her mind. She isn't here to make friends with these people - she is here to end whatever it is mother has planned. She has a role to play.
It reminds her of the games Samara invites her to play - to "pass the time and keep you sane". She had to admit, trivial little games were easier to think about than bedding the oaf Alistair and bearing his child, and then Samara could face the archdemon and…
Morrigan couldn’t consider that. She asks Samara to set the board again instead.
Samara beat her every time - it was almost another one of their little rituals. The party would return from whatever little quest they went on, Samara would pass out the little gifts and trinkets she found wherever they went. She would eat, she would bathe, and she would pass stories round the fire until she made her way to Morrigan, giving her confident smiles.
She moves pawns around the board with such confidence. Morrigan doesn’t understand how she can change the world like she does, affecting so many lives for the better. She almost resents her for it, the way she bandages every knee and acts as a martyr for all the hopeless dreamers. Instead, she watches as she moves a knight.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Samara says, a smile in her voice. She crosses her legs at the knee, resting her elbow on her thigh and her chin in her hand, “Do I have something on my face?”
“‘Tis that stupid little grin below your nose.” Morrigan retorts immediately, moving her piece. She sees it after she moves, that she can steal the piece.
She does. “Oh, you love it.”
Morrigan just watches her a moment, admiring her...well, all of her, really. She’s a beautiful woman, strong from lugging around a sword and shield day in and day out. Alistair had called her a desert bloom, offered a rose he’d carried in his pocket for weeks. Samara had accepted it with the grace of a friend, quietly disclosing to Alistair that she was, in fact, only attracted to women.
Morrigan had overheard.
Her mother had always convinced her that there were places in the world - there were pawns and kings, and they had their queens. Two queens on the same side of the board would completely ruin the game, the entire dynamic completely null with one slight change.
But Morrigan couldn’t help but wonder. If two queens, on the same side of the board, surrounded by their army of knights and bishops and pawns, if they really needed a king to dictate the ending of the game. Or, perhaps, if the king were the equal of a bishop, or a pawn - a player in the game, but not the equal party.
“You look a million miles away.” Samara says, fist on her cheek, “Come on, what’s bothering you?”
“What?” Morrigan fakes a scoff, “Nothing, I’m waiting for you to take your turn.”
Samara arches a brow, “Well, my dear, you would be mistaken. It’s your turn.” She puts on a lopsided little smile, and Morrigan blushes, clearing her throat and moves another piece - does a bishop move like that?
If it doesn’t, Samara doesn’t comment on it. “Now, what had you so distracted from our little game?” She looks over the board, pondering her next move.
Morrigan looks at Samara, almost with a sense of urgency, and Samara must sense it, ignoring the board. “Alistair approached me while your party was away.”
“Are you two arguing again?” Samara asks, completely used to their childish antics. “What’s caused it this time?”
Morrigan clears her throat, “Alistair has suggested that he believes we are…how did he phrase it?” She tries to put it lightly, then just sighs, “Caboodling.”
Samara laughs, shaking her head, “Did he put it like that? Caboodling?”
“I think I prefer fraternization.” She admits, busying herself with the board.
She looks her over, but Morrigan doesn’t see it, considering she’s still trying to figure out if a knight was allowed to move like she was planning. Samara lets herself relax, smiling, wishing that she and Morrigan were...caboodling.
“Well, it wouldn’t technically be fraternizing.” She explains, moving her piece, “I mean, if Alistair and I were together, we’d both be Grey Wardens, so it would be. But we’re just...friends. No fraternization if we do decide to caboodle.”
Morrigan almost cracks a smile, “Please stop referring to sex as caboodling.”
Samara laughs and shakes her head, “You started it, I won’t stop.” She leans a little closer, “What made Alistair think that we were...having sex?”
“Apparently he thinks that we make ‘kissy faces’ at one another.” She rolls her eyes, taking her move, “I think you share more romantic glances with that mutt of yours.”
Samara fakes a gasp, “Barkspawn is integral to the group.” She smiles at Morrigan, and she is undone. “He’s going to be the real hero of all this, mark my words.” Then, after a moment, “Checkmate.”
Morrigan looks down at the board, perplexed. Her queen had captured her king, after knocking her queen from the board, and she feels like there is some symbolism, or a divine notion that she ought to adhere to.
Instead, she sits back in her seat, “That...was a good game, Warden.” Morrigan does crack a smile this time, and Samara practically beams in response. “I daresay I enjoyed myself.”
Samara snorts - rather unbecoming for such a prissy noble - and smiles at Morrigan, “You better have, considering how often we play this damnable game.”
Morrigan smiles, then pauses, considering, “You don’t like this game?”
Samara shakes her head, “My father made me play it constantly - to help with strategy, he said. All I see now is a controlled, easy board. Nothing is so easy in the moment.” She smiles, much softer than before, at Morrigan, “It’s much better with you, though.”
“Because you win every time.” Morrigan shoots back, trying to hide the lump in her throat. No man had ever made her...pine. Was this pining? She was yearning for her touch, to know if her lips were really as soft as they looked. She wanted to know how her hair felt in her grip, to listen to her and take care of her Warden, her Samara.
“Because of the company.” Samara says, still holding Morrigan’s queen piece.
Caboodling. Morrigan didn’t understand why the idiotic Warden didn’t just refer to it as what it was - sex. Or, more honestly, she did. He was a virgin, inexperienced in the ‘heat of the moment’, in the ‘passion of lovers’. In that moment, though, eyes locked on Samara’s, Morrigan is convinced she wants to call it love-making.
Morrigan licks her lips, watching Samara’s deft fingers turn the queen piece round and round, and suddenly, the Warden’s lips are pressed against hers.
Her lips aren’t soft. They’re chapped, from months of neglect, and her fingertips are callous and rough, but she and Morrigan interlock more firmly than any king and queen ever have. It’s not an explosion of feelings or an eruption of passion, but Morrigan feels something coming to light - Morrigan is Morrigan and Samara is Samara, and they are together now.
Morrigan knows she will have to leave one day. She will bear a child, and she will…
She doesn’t want to think about what comes next, because she doesn’t know. It is easier to have a plan, to know where the pawns will go, and what the queen will do, and when.
Instead, she kisses Samara.
She grips the front of the shirt she wore, like she might try to dart off and leave her. Samara’s fingers intertwine in her hair, and Morrigan stands, the board game forgotten as the Warden is led into the Witch’s den.
Love-making, Morrigan thinks, her lips a breath away from Samara’s undressing her slowly, admiring every scar, kissing over the bone of her hip, across her collarbone. Samara shakes beneath her, and Morrigan’s name sounds like heaven on her lips.
She kisses along her thighs, teasing. She is soft here, not untouched, but Morrigan finds that Samara grips the sheets and whines when Morrigan takes her time here.
She has only ever lain with men, specifically men with assigned male anatomy - she has never even seen another young woman’s body, unsure of where she is allowed to tread from here.
“Are you…?” Samara asks just as Morrigan looks up to her, “Have you done this before?” She says, as if she is a mind reader - Morrigan knows she is not.
Morrigan swallows and bites back, “I didn’t have many opportunities during the few times I left to wood, much less with...someone like you.”
Samara snorts, and it puts Morrigan at ease, at least a little, though she bristles, “Someone like me? You touch yourself, don’t you?”
Thinking of you, but Morrigan just nods, and dips her fingers inside, using the same tricks that get her off, watching Samara’s face so she could pinpoint exactly what made her whisper her name, what made her toes curl, her nose wrinkle - her favorite was how the Warden’s eyes shut, her lips parted and she ruts her hips into Morrigan’s hand, only to have the Witch pin her down with her free hand, kissing along her navel as she fingers her.
Love. Morrigan thinks it’s a silly word. Laying with the Warden will not convince her so easily, but Samara is a patient woman. Two queens. The concept is still foreign to Morrigan, but she brings Samara to climax twice over before the Warden demands that it’s Morrigan’s turn. Morrigan just smiles, and then rolls her eyes as Samara teases her for it.
Samara kisses at the curls between the Witch’s legs, “We’re caboodling now, you know that?”
“Oh, just shut up, and put that mouth to good use.” Morrigan looks up, but only so Samara can’t see her smiling.
Samara kisses the inside of her thigh, “Anything for you.”
Welp it’s me 😝 went from purple to blonde ombré just a week ago to full purple ombré. I also don’t know many people so here’s some blogs I like that haven’t already been tagged 💕
Could you do some cute domestic headcanons for Cole, Krem, and Varric from dragon age? 💖💖
😍😍😍
Cole
After the Inquisitor helps Cole become more human, there are so many new (scary) things he's ready to try
One of them is the Inquisitor
It's scary, and tentative, and he hesitated to take their hand, but he falls into them the moment he does
He's loved them long before he knew what love really was
His favorite times are the quiet moments, the rain pattering against their tent while they sleep together
Or the little date they went on in Val Royeaux - oh, Cole loves dates
He'll bring little gifts and a picnic and find the moments that need to be fixed
Cole helps, and he loves, and he feels safe
Krem
It's actually kinda a funny story
Krem was absolutely convinced that the Inquisitor was into the Iron Bull - it wasn't his fault that he didn't know they were conspiring behind his back!
And...he's never been happier. He has them, he holds them, and he's never letting go
The scary moments are...scary, of course, but he's their rock, their anchor
He has to admit, though, the quiet moments are his favourite
The fire in their room, crackling and quiet, curled up in bed together, unsure of where one of them began and the other ended
He loves to touch them, to remind himself that they are real and they are with him, of all the beautiful people they could've chosen
The days where they can just lay together, laugh and hold each other close - those are the best days
Varric
It isn't until after Corypheus is defeated - really and truly dead - that Varric feels safe enough to be with the Inquisitor
He's loved them for a long time - he just doesn't know how to say it
It's at the party, and he just kisses them the moment they're in their quarters
It's...right. He knows it is, being with them has always been right
It's goes on like that for a long time - Varric kisses them, the Inquisitor kisses Varric, and they don't put the L word between them
Until one morning, Varric wakes up, the Inquisitor in his arms
They're beautiful, in the morning light, and they smile at him, eyes adjusting to the light, and say something about breakfast
He sort of just tells them, decides that the moment is right
Sorry to hear about the mean anons, that kind of stuff can ruin a person's passion quick. And now you've got me curious about the dev drama, because I never keep up with developer stuff for anything. 👀 I had initially followed your blog due to your Arcana writings, but I'm eager to see what lies ahead for you! Despite how loud the haters get, you've got people here who support you no matter what! 💕
❤️💜 thank you so much, I really really appreciate your support. It's kind of scary, converting a blog, but I'm happy to try and start something new!
I have teamed up with @collective-laugh for a series of BLM Donation Commissions.
These commissions will be different!
The money will not be paid out to us but instead an organization of your choice pertaining to BLM.
Before you commission us tell us which organization you are going to donate to, how much you are donating and when you plan to donate.
Organizations to donate to if you choose to do so: https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/
We will need proof of donation before we start your piece. We will not start your piece until we have confirmation.
If you cannot find an organization to donate too we can provide you with a list of organizations from our local areas.
Donation Stand Points:
At least $5 for a Doodle/Sketch + 250 word fic
At least $10 for Lineart + 250 word fic
At least $15 for Rough Color + 500 word fic
At least $20 for Full Color + 500 word fic
Our goal is to help the communities around us, we cannot protest and I personally cannot donate but we can use our skills to do this.
We understand that we will never understand. We are not black, but we stand with you. ✊🏻✊🏼✊🏽✊🏾✊🏿
Note: I will finish all personal outstanding commissions some time this week. If I run into issues I will DM you and let you know. I want to help out as soon and as much as I can right now for the communities and people effected. Thank you for understanding!
I've personally donated to the BLM fund and the Homeless Black Trans Women fund, which is still in desperate need of donations. Anything you can spare to help bail funds, organizations, and charities helps immensely ❤️
Of course, if you don't have the funds to donate, I encourage you to speak up and sign petitions, use your voice to speak out against the systemic, violent, racist system.
I'm sorry, but I'm kinda on a break from the fandom so I'm not in the know but did something happen to make you stop participating and to also say "ew" @ your arcana writing? I know that the company that owns the games rights is uhh... Bad, but did they do something extra bad recently? Feel free to ignore or not elaborate. Your comfort is most important ❤️
I just answered an anonymous ask about why I stopped writing for the arcana (which was basically mean anons/toxic fandom/the devs/an overwhelming personal life).
And I put the "ew" beside my work just because it's just really old stuff I've made 😂 I reread some of it and just cringed - but I can see how that looks, I'll probably change that.
You don't have to apologize! Thank you for the ask 💜
