Aug 5, 2019
Lady Hawke for @x-x-files! Thank you for commissioning me! :)
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Lady Hawke for @x-x-files! Thank you for commissioning me! :)
SENDING LOVE AND GOOD VIBES AND A REMINDER THAT YOU’RE A BEAUTIFUL PERSON INSIDE AND OUT AS WELL AS A KICKASS, TALENTED AS FRICK WRITER 💞💞
THANK YOU SO MUCH I NEEDED THIS SO MUCH, THANK YOU!
65 or 67 for Rory and Cullen? I can't get enough of your writing!
65. One Small Kiss, Pulling Away For An Instant, ThenDevouring Each Other OR 67 When One Stops The Kiss To Whisper “I’m Sorry, AreYou Sure You-” And They Answer By Kissing Them More ... hmm, tough choice! Let’s go with 65. Rory/Cullen, here we come!
“I’m not entirely sure Josephine would approve of this ...”
“Oh, shush.” Rory laughed softly, pulling her husband fully behind the heavy drape that concealed the doorway to the Inquisitor’s tower. “It isn’t Josephine I’ve been desperate to get five minutes with all evening.”
“You realize Kaaras could easily interrupt this five minutes you have planned,” Cullen chuckled softly, though he seemed relieved as the drape fell around him, enclosing them into a cramped, warm darkness that was just theirs for just a few minutes.
“Not if he knows what’s good for him, he won’t,” Rory growled quietly, glad to feel him huff a silent laugh at her mildly threatening tone. “You’ve been scowling and avoiding talking to anyone all evening. What’s wrong?”
Cullen shook his head. “I dislike being on display.”
Her fingers crept up the brass buttons on his tunic, the gentle weight of her body leaning into his in the darkness until he felt her breath against his lips, unconsciously sliding his arms about her waist to welcome that teasing embrace of hers.
“You’re not on display now,” she whispered.
“I am not kissing my wife when there are forty nobles on the other side of this drape,” he informed her, feeling his own determination to keep their private life private wavering at the sensation of her lips pouting entirely too close to his to ignore.
“Not even a little kiss?” she breathed hopefully. “Just to tide me over until later? Pretty please?”
Cullen laughed a little helplessly as her fingers locked together at the back of his neck. She was certainly persistent when she wanted something. He had to admit, he really didn’t mind it when his wife wanted a kiss.
“A small kiss, then,” he promised her, leaning down to brush his smiling lips against her pouting ones.
She tasted of spiced wine and sugar, and no matter how hard she tried, he refused to deepen that kiss, keeping it soft and gentle, drawing back to rub the tip of his nose in a tender circle about her own. But she was there, and she was his, and there were too many eyes beyond that drape who would smirk knowingly without knowing a blessed thing. To the Void with it ...
“Let them smirk,” he muttered, pressing her back against the warm wood of the door to ravish her mouth with a hunger usually reserved for the most private of moments.
Rory gasped delightedly, purring into him as Cullen threw caution to the wind. Hang it all, they were married. They had a daughter together. Anyone who thought Alys was some kind of miracle conception was an idiot, and deserved to be scandalized by the discovery of the Commander of the Inquisition thoroughly kissing his lady wife. He wanted her, always; he needed her. She gave him peace, love, serenity when it was lacking, passion without second thought. If she wanted a kiss, then she could have a bloody kiss. Several kisses; kisses that inflamed her soul, set her trembling, gave her something to ponder through the hours of enforced social sweetness ahead of them.
Someone tapped his back through the drape. “This curtain is making some fascinating noises,” the familiar tones of Dorian Pavus informed the world in general.
Cullen tore his lips from Rory’s with a low groan. “Sod off, Dorian.”
He groped for the door handle at her back to the tune of both Rory and Dorian’s laughter, pushing the portal open to slip into the cool gloom of the tower staircase. It was just a small kiss, after all ...
[prompt me!]
12 (from the fictional kiss prompts) for whichever Ryder you want!
12. A hoarse whisper “kiss me.” I did this one for Avery and Reyes the other day, so I sat on this one and I think I’m going to give Pol/Gil a go.
Apollo isn’t the Pathfinder (Artemis is), but otherwise, most everything in their story follows canon. This little scene is during the celebration after Meridian.
The constant throbbing in the back of Pol’s head dulls to a splitting ache when Artemis leaves and SAM dims the lights in what should have been their father’s room. He curls onto his side and squashes his face into the pillow before pulling the blanket up to cover his other eye.
SAM lowers the temperature of the room by a degree, and Pol sighs gratefully and burrows deeper in the linens. Maybe he’ll be able to get some sleep after all, despite the party still carrying on in the atrium and common areas.
Just as his consciousness is starting to dim – in the pleasant, sleepy way, not in the horrifying injury or induced coma ways he’s gotten used to facing – the door swishes open and then locks back closed.
He groans and covers his face completely with the blanket. Footsteps shuffle across the room and then the bed dips at his side. He clutches the blankets a little tighter, but insistent fingers peel it away to expose the side of his face.
“There you are,” Gil coos, careful to keep his voice low. Pol’s eyes pop open in surprise, meeting Gil’s as he continues, “I was beginning to think Missy lied about where you were hiding.”
Pol’s face turns a bright red, his ears starting to burn, but he carefully sits up and balances on one arm to hold himself upright. Gil leans back only far enough to let him move, then puts a steadying hand on Pol’s shoulder. This only makes Pol’s blush darker, but he leans into the contact as much as he can.
They’ve barely seen each other since before the archon’s attack. They certainly haven’t been alone since Pol got out of the med bay. If only this headache wasn’t so bone-rattlingly deep…
“I’ve been worried about you,” Gil says, somehow even quieter. His eyes are bright, but his eyebrows are drawn together with a deep wrinkle between them. Little lines extend from the outside corners of his eyes, too – all signs of how long and hard he’s worked over the last months, how much sleep he lost on the Nexus and then on the Tempest. And now sleep lost worrying about Pol.
“I’m sorry–” Pol starts, but then he stops and winces as talking makes the pain radiate down the back of his skull across his jaw and into his neck. Across the room, the little SAM station whirs to life at the flood of neural input.
Gil’s frown only deepens. “Lie back down,” he says, and pushes gently at Pol’s shoulders until Pol can’t help but obey. “I shouldn’t have come. I just… I just wanted to see you, and–”
“Kiss me, please.” Pol cuts off Gil’s rambling, especially since his headache is edging into a migraine. “Please.” He grabs Gil’s hand still on his arm and tugs, and Gil chuckles when he leans down to obey.
He presses a kiss to Pol’s lips, lingering slowly, and Pol relishes the feeling after so long apart. When Gil pulls away, he presses another kiss to Pol’s aching head, then stretches out beside him on the bed. He gathers Pol up in his arms, gently rearranging them both until Pol’s body is cradled against his own.
“Thanks,” Pol mutters, letting his eyes drift shut. Unconsciousness comes faster this time, aided by the warmth of Gil’s body and the steady thumping of his heart under his ear.
fictional kiss prompts.
Got 4 requests as I closed the post :D
@x-x-files‘s Thalia Trevelyan @marsquisitor‘s Arden Trevelyan @rhetoricalrogue‘s Ravena Trevelyan @ace–jace‘s Livia Surana
It was fun sketching your pretty pretty OCs! thanks!
sketch commission of Calithil Lavellan for the lovely @x-x-files :)
OC fact? Thalia is terrible at any domestic activity, whether it be cooking, cleaning, etc (she is good at sewing tho). between her noble background and her life at the Circle, she's never had to lift a finger. she feels bad bc she can never do anything stereotypically cute for Cullen except sew up all the holes in his clothes.
aw, that’s super sweet tho!!
All of my children of champions crew (with ONE exception) are frankly terrible at the majority of the domestic skills. Lea spent her life as a royal princess in a castle where all her needs where catered too. Remi and Lukas are bonafide city boys (although Lukas, like Thalia, is good at sewing and enjoys it too!). Laneda and Garrett, similar to Lea, were raised with all the privileges that being the children of Inquisitor and the Inquisitors Commander came with.
Kieran is pretty much the only one that has experience cooking, cleaning, etc since he’s spent many years alone taking care of himself. He actually enjoys cooking too!