Yet on quiet empty days I look up and find you gone.
In waking dreams are tender shadows that by dawn are flown
Forever will I seek the familiar shape you called your own
There is a a truly magnificent piece of writing by Mortonspoon on AO3 called "Wander the Drifting Roads" which I love to distraction. It is the inspiration for this artwork, and if you are at all a fan of dragon age and excellent writing I strongly recommend that you read it.
And the last sketch for Fenharems Kinktober this year <3 Prompts Threesome and Double penetration :D I had to do my OT3 for that one of course! :3
Full view on Twitter or AO3
I always wished there was more content for a romanced inquisitor who drank from the well. it seems like there would be a lot of scary moments and shaky nightmares.
pre bed time sketch! I liked how it turned out so maybe I’ll try to do it digitally too.
25, we always have a choice for Cullenxinquisitor? Thx 😊
They gather around the body. Bysome trick of the light, it could almost be breathing. Pulsing, humming stillwith energy, the red lyrium sings although its host has died. Josephine coversher mouth. “It’s hard to say what we should do with it,” Dagna says. Lavellancrosses his arms.
“And all the other red Templars we’vekilled,” he says. Dagna nods grimly.
“I’ve been studying the redlyrium as best I can, but it’s hard to do that when prolonged exposure makesyou – ah. Well, crazy,” she says. “I can tell you that it’s still growing.”
“How?” Josephine asks, “Isn’t hedead?”
“He is. The lyrium isn’t. It’s like what Bianca told the Inquisitor:lyrium is alive.”
“It will consume the corpse,then,” Cullen says and it’s barely a question. They’ve all seen the reportsfrom Emprise du Lion, read Lavellan’s report of the twisted future he’s seen.Lavellan rubs his chin.
“It will. I don’t know if itwill stop growing, really. I’ve tried a couple of different things and I canshatter it, pause its growth, but not kill it completely,” Dagna says. “Thatsound you hear from it? Every red Templar we’ve encountered hears it even louder.If it’s the blight –”
“If it’s the blight, then it’slike the Calling?” Lavellan asks.
“Yes! Thanks to Leliana, I gotmy hands on some reports from the Hero of Ferelden. They encountered a group ofDarkspawn who could speak, who said that the blight was like a song. This song,” Dagna says. Leliana has herhands clasped behind her back, narrows her eyes.
“Could an Archdemon then controlthe spread of red lyrium?” Leliana asks.
“Maybe. I really don’t know.Just that we should probably be concentrating on figuring out how to destroy itall,” Dagna says.
“I assume we’re all in agreementwhen I say that you’ll have anything you need,” Lavellan says, looking aroundat the others gathered. A quick nod from all of them. “Keep us informed.”
“Will do,” she says. They slowlymake their way from the workshop, head in separate directions. Lavellan meansto go to the library, changes his mind.
“Cullen,” he says, calling outto him as they cross the battlements. Cullen immediately stops, turns towardshim.
“Inquisitor. What can I help youwith?”
“Cullen. Tell me what’s on yourmind.” Cullen blinks a few times before he sighs, the stiff line of hisshoulders falling. He rubs the space between his brows before he gives him asmall smile.
“Am I that obvious?”
“No,” Lavellan smiles, “I’m justgetting better at reading you.” Cullen puts a hand on stone, while Lavellancrosses his arms, leans against it. The wind seems sharper here, the fur inCullen’s cloak moving this way and that, hair curling at Lavellan’s cheek. Sowhen Cullen speaks, voice low, Lavellan steps closer to hear him.
“I kept looking at that body onthe slab, and I – I could see my face. One wrong decision, and I could havejust been another red Templar. If only I had acted sooner I could – I couldhave changed things. Not just for myself, but for other Templars. Maker helpme, and the mages. I shouldn’t have been such a coward –” The words arewrenched from his lips. Anguish in it, as his brow furrows, as he looks away.Lavellan puts a hand on his shoulder.
“You did act, and you’re changingthings now. We can’t go back. We can only keep moving forward and hope we makebetter choices,” he says. His other hand moves, resting gently over Cullen’s. “We’llfigure all of this out, together.”
“You’re right. I should be morefocused-” Lavellan closes the distance between them completely, that hand onhis shoulder moving lower, pulling Cullen into the hug. Fur brushing againsthis cheek, and Cullen is slow to return it. But he does, oh he does, holding sofiercely, so tightly.
hi, hello, i love you. my prompt is "please write some of That Good Shit."
NSFW under cut
He knows what’s waiting. Even ashe’s giving out the last order, listening to the final report, his mind iselsewhere. It’s already with her, up that ladder, underneath the stars. Cullennearly crumples with relief when the last soldier leaves, when the door closes.Locking every bolt tightly, making sure they won’t be disturbed. He clears histhroat, puts his hands on the rung of the ladder. A deep breath, and he makeshis way upwards. Finally at the top and she’s lying in his bed, wrapped up in furs.“I’ve been waiting for you,” she says as she pulls the furs back. The breath ofhim quickly leaves.
She’s lying on her side, smilingin a way that tells him she knows exactly what it’s doing to him. His eyes moveover the curve of her, the way one leg drapes over the other, the swell of herhips, breasts perfect and free. Her skin shines in the moonlight, her haircurls around her neck. “Maker’s breath,” he says weakly. She extends an arm,holds out a hand to him.
“Cullen,” she says, aninvitation. He’s quickly shrugging off his cloak, tearing at his breastplate, strugglingwith the boots as he hops forward to take her hand. He half tumbles into thebed and her laughter is clear as she wraps her arms around him. Finding the hemof his shirt, helping him take it off as she pretends not to notice the redcoloring his cheeks. Threading a hand through his hair, softly smiling as shepinches his earlobe. Leaning forward, letting his forehead rest against hers.
“I couldn’t stop thinking aboutyou,” he tells her, “it was – agony –waiting.”
“I’m glad you feel the same way,”she says as she licks her lips, “I’ve… kept myself busy.” A flush in her cheeksthat swirls in her chest, nipples pointed, legs that rub together. He surgesforward, a clumsy kiss, lips hard pressed against hers. Both pairs of hands atthe waist of his trousers, pulling them off with a desperate need. Moving toposition himself better on the bed, on his knees, resting between her legs. She’sleaning back in the bed, hands curling by her face, surrounded by pillows andfur. She’s utterly gorgeous. He loses himself a little, in the sight of her.
“Cullen,” and he’s snapping backto reality, “Please, I can’t wait anymore.” His hands tighten at her hips, dragher forward. He knows how she feels. He’s been half hard since she disappearedup the ladder with a wink and a promise. He wets the underside of his cock withher wet, slowly grinding against her, and he loves the way she watches. Handsshaking in fists, curled into the furs, biting her bottom lip as she watcheshim slide over her cunt. “Cullen.”
Her feet press into the bed,toes curling as he shifts the angle, the tip of him pressing at her entrance.Slowly burying himself to the hilt, inch by desperate inch, groaning when hecan go no further. Her cunt throbs around him, warm and wet, dripping withwant. Her back arches, her eyes squeezing closed. Unable to bite her lip anylonger as she gasps, a ragged thing, as he moves his hips back, only to buryinside her once again. “Please, please, please,” she’s begging, a steady streamwrapped around a moan, and he watches her breasts shake as he thrusts insideher.
Hips slap against hip, and herthighs press tightly against him as she holds herself at that angle. Her headtilts to the side, and he’s able to see the way the tips of her ears burn red. Cullenleans forward, a hand pressing into the bed beside her head, the other stillwrapped underneath her. “I love you,” he breathes, a strangled gasp, and she’sturning her head to look at him. Hands that reach upwards, thumbs overcheekbones, lifting herself up and pulling him down, meeting in the middle forthe kiss.
She turns deftly, swiftly,raising her ass towards him, bending down with a pillow beneath her. It takeslittle to pick up where they left off, Cullen straightening as he takes hold ofher hips once again, plunges inside her. He loves the arch of her back, thatpattern of freckles on her left shoulder. Running a hand along her spine, overevery bump and bone, tracing shoulder blades and over ribs. She’s biting intothe pillow – he really needs to get that hole in the roof fixed – stifling themoans. She pitches her hips back, impatient with want, and he leans back as shereplaces his rhythm with hers.
Fucking herself on his cock,feeling his hands on her and she slowly raises herself upwards. Breasts swayunderneath her, hair caught around her face. Cullen’s hands at her hips again,holding tightly as they rut against each other. Focusing on nothing else buthim, the feel of him inside her, his touch, the hitch of his breath, and hemakes it so easy to cum. He struggles to hold on as the waves of her pleasurerock through him, cunt squeezing around his cock unbearably. He slips from herjust in time, seed spilling hot onto her back.
They collapse onto the bedtogether, and he is running a hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ear.Moving forward to pepper her shoulder with kisses, her cheek, her forehead. “Maker’sbreath, that was –” he exhales deeply and she’s taken by peals of laughter.
A little something for @boss-saarebas! I hope you like it! The song given was Someone New by Hozier. So here’s a modern-ish, 1960′s AU, featuring her Inquisitor. Cheers!
There’s a slash of white paint over darker jean, just there, on the back of her thigh. She spins the record between her fingers before she puts it on the player, swaying back and forth while placing the needle. She turns on her heel to face him, raising her eyebrows at him, shoulders moving side to side, snapping her fingers together as she strides forward. One foot in front of the other as the music plays, and he tries to hide the smile behind his hand, the other keeping a firm grip on the paintbrush. Outstretching her arms towards him, letting one settle on his shoulder while the other pulls away his hand, reveals the blush and the laughter.
“Dance with me,” she says.
“We’re supposed to be painting,” he tells her. Sheets over the few bits of furniture they have, cans of paint in every corner. She has a wrap around her head to protect her hair, the slightest smudge where she’s rubbed her cheek. Only half the room is white, the rest is the hideous purple the previous tenants somehow thought acceptable. She’s humming the song under her breath as she sways against him, looking at him expectantly.
“That’s a poor excuse, Cullen Stanton Rutherford, and you know it,” she says.
“You know I can’t dance,” he says as her hand closes over his, steals the brush away, throwing it onto their covered couch. Palm against palm, locking fingers together, pulling him forward. He allows himself to be dragged as he settles his free hand on her hip. Awkward and heavy steps as he moves the way she wants. Her fingers play with the soft curls at the nape of his neck, twisting at a longer lock, little playful gestures that are distinctly her.
“You can do anything you put your mind to,” she coos encouragingly. He shakes his head as he chuckles under his breath, puts his hand at the small of her back. Pulling her forward, letting her hand go in favor of reaching for her thigh. Lifting her leg as he dips her beneath him, as she giggles with delight. Guiding her into a spin, watching as red hair spills from its protective nest. Sweeping her into his arms, swaying them exaggeratingly back and forth. Laughing together as Cullen presses his forehead against hers, and the cars on the road outside their window stop and go without their notice.
“I told you so,” she says.
“Mm-hmm,” a wordless reply as he seeks her kiss, and he can taste her smile in it. Her eyes sparkle brightly, a green like gold, licking her lips as they break away. He fumbles with the brush she throws back at him, paint on his hands and on his shirt. Reaching down to dip it into a can, pulls it dripping. She squeals as he draws a line down her defenseless back, runs away from him. A dance of a different sort as they chase each other, joy echoing on empty walls. The first of the few weeks they’ve lived together and he can’t imagine it any other way, loving her a little more each day.
❛ I came, I saw, I made it awkward. ❜ I'VE NEVER SEEN A MORE CULLEN PROMPT.
He’s still reading over thereport when he knocks on the door. He hears her voice, and pushes open thedoor. Still looking at the damned report as he climbs the stairs, beginning tospeak. “Inquisitor, I’ve received word from our allies in Orlaahhhhh.” The words turn to ash in hismouth when he finally looks up. She’s wearing naught but a few leathers,sweating and breathing heavy with a staff in her hand, clearly having just beenpracticing forms. With some strangled noise in his throat he practically fallsback down the stairs, closes the door behind him.
Cullen knows the back of hisneck is as red as his face. He clutches the report to his chest, now justcrumpled paper, and closes his eyes. Going to the nearest wall and lightlytapping his forehead against it again and again. “Andraste preserve me.” She isthe Inquisitor and he, and he… and he likes her more than he should in a waythat he knows he shouldn’t. He walks across the Great Hall, through thecourtyard, back up to his tower. He throws the report on his desk as he sinksinto his chair, rubs a hand against his eyes.
It’s already a joke withLeliana. She spotted it far too quickly, the smug smile hanging on her lips atthe war table. It was only a matter of time before Josephine realized, orLeliana told her. How long could he hide it from Lavellan? Or, she alreadyknew. If she did, she hadn’t approached him about it. He was her Commander.Meant to be support, someone to rely upon. How could she trust him completelyknowing that any opinion might be tangled up in feelings?
“Cullen!” The door slams againststone. “Creators but you do walk fast when you feel like it,” she says. Herhair is tied back in a messy bun, some old tunic thrown about her. Sweat stilllingers on her brow, a tint of red in her cheeks.
“I’m sorry about earlier, I’dforgotten how touchy humans can be about –”
“No Inquisitor, it is my fault,I should be the one apologizing –” He’s shaking his head as he pushes himselfup to stand.
“Cullen if you would let me –”
“It was something that couldwait until later and I –”
“Cullen!” She’s laughing as shewraps arms around herself, walks towards the desk. “Perhaps we can both agreeto forget about it,” she says as she sits down. Cullen follows her example andslowly lowers himself back down into the chair.
“Ah, yes. I suppose that wouldbe for the best,” he says.
“Now,” Lavellan says, tapping her finger againstpaper, “you were telling me about our allies from Orlais.” Cullen clears histhroat as he picks up the crumbled paper. She looks so at ease, relaxed in thechair, the smile lingering and a certain brightness in her eyes as she watcheshim.
