Fanfic writer with a passion for exploring romantic relationships // Fandoms: Horizon Zero Dawn, Mass Effect, and Dragon Age // Fandom: Dragon Age, Horizon Zero Dawn, Mass Effect
There are sooo many. Here are some of my faves. Some are deep as hell, some are pure salt & sass, some are as smooth as his shiny bald head.
No real god need prove himself. Anyone who tries is mad or lying.
I enjoy the frilly cakes!
We were all young once. Makes me giggle every time.
I am grim and fatalistic. Getting you into bed is merely an enjoyable side benefit.
I lay in dark and dreaming sleep while countless wars and ages passed. I woke still weak a year before I joined you.
The Inquisitor turns her hawk-like gaze to me, penetrating deep into my most secret desires. Only… Not. I care deeply for many things beyond the Fade. Just not you.
The healer has the bloodiest hands.
It’s comforting that whatever qualities I lack, you’ll invent for me, Varric.
I volunteered to help, Inquisitor. Rattle the bars if you like, but I chose to enter this cage.
Ah – because I am an apostate. I might flee before the Inquisition throws me in chains?
Ass.
We must mark the occasion of the Dalish remembering something correctly. Perhaps we should plant a tree.
Or pomposity…
Most people do [forget Fen’Harel]
I will try, in my own fumbling way, to try and learn from how you helped to seal the rift at Haven. Ah, wait. My memory misleads me. You were not there.
How small the pain of one man seems when weighed against the endless depths of memory, of feeling, of existence. That ocean carries everyone. And those of us who learn to see its currents move through life with fewer ripples.
Please speak up – I cannot hear you over your outfit.
Busy days at Skyhold keep them to their work, but when Lavellan walks through the rotunda to find Solas sitting at his desk she runs her hand across his shoulders and he watches her as she saunters away. – @elfsplaining
I absolutely love this little headcanon and how intimate it was so I made a little comic on it with the addition of Solas reciprocating Lavellan’s little gesture! Enjoy~
I started working on a thing. I only meant it to be like a little short smutty thing. But then plotbunnies happened and it might end up being a Longer Thing™. FML?
In case anyone is interested, here is a preview.
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“I had hoped you would come,” a familiar voice said.
Abelas pursed his lips in displeasure as a hooded figure drew up beside him. He shook his head slightly as he gazed at the strange banners flying from the ramparts of Tarasyl’an Te’las. The titanic castle had once been the proud fortress of Mythal’s staunchest supporters. Now, its occupants seemed little more than naslahna’miol crawling along its walls, doing their best to rebuild something that their brutish hands could never restore.
“You surrendered your stronghold to these shemlen,” he said.
It was a statement, not a question, but Fen’Harel nodded his head all the same. “The leader of their organization, the Inquisitor, has been quite effective so far. Surprisingly so, if truth be told. Assisting her in her goals has been an efficient way of achieving my own. Gifting the castle to these people was little sacrifice to me, but it has given them much.” He paused, then added, “It has given them hope that the world can be better.”
Abelas huffed a quiet breath through his nose. “You sound like you admire them.”
Fen’Harel turned slowly to look at him, and Abelas instinctively dropped his gaze at the expression on the Dread Wolf’s face. “I take no joy in what is to come,” he said quietly. “I do not resent them their lives here, and nor should you. It should never have been this way, but that is not their fault.”
Abelas was silent, and Fen’Harel eventually turned back to face the castle. The wind whipped their cloaks, and clouds chased across the sky with a swirling bluster of snow as they gazed at the ancient stronghold.
Fen’Harel finally sighed and turned to face him again. “I assumed you had come to join my efforts. Was I incorrect?”
Abelas pursed his lips again, then shook his head. “No. I serve Mythal still. If your plans honour her, then I would assist.”
Fen’Harel was silent for a long moment. Then finally he nodded. “Excellent,” he said. “Then you will join us at Tarasyl’an Te’las. There is someone you should meet in a less… antagonistic capacity.”
Abelas frowned as he fell into step beside Fen’Harel on the path back to the castle. “How long will this association with the shemlen continue?”
“As long as it must, I’m afraid,” he replied. His response was mild, but his tone was firm enough for Abelas to hold back any further criticisms. In a gentler tone, Fen’Harel continued, “I would suggest you resist the urge to insult the Inquisitor while we are here. She is unlike the other quickling elves that you have seen. She has been quite open to my teachings, in fact. I will admit to finding her quite impressive.”
“You have been sharing our knowledge with her?” Abelas demanded, then immediately closed his mouth when Fen’Harel stopped in his tracks to look at him.
Abelas stopped as well and instinctively lowered his head in deference, but the expected rebuke did not come. Instead, to his surprise, the Dread Wolf reached out and placed one hand on his shoulder. “You are angry, I know,” he said softly. “It distresses me to think what you have dealt with during your brief but brutal awakenings. But I see no harm in responding to a da’len’s thirst for knowledge. Up to a certain point, of course. Curiosity is not a virtue that should be punished.”
“It is not the virtue for which you are known, ha’hren,” Abelas replied.
Fen’Harel smiled, but the smile was sad. “I am not the spirit I once was,” he said. “And neither are you.” The rebel leader gazed at Abelas until he sighed and nodded.
Fen’harel squeezed his shoulder once more. “Come,” he said, then continued along the path. “And remember, while we remain among these people: call me Solas.”
She shifts in shades beneath his hands. Porcelain, ivory, the icy blue of Emprise, sunkissed and sandy-gold, the ever-changing colour of her skin as they move from moonlight to candlelight.
Do you like that
He traces every inch, memorizes every bruise and scrape. The marks are fleeting, not unlike the moments they spend pressed together. Sparse freckles form constellations, eternal waypoints for his curious tongue to taste.
Run your hands across my body
Salt spreading over his tongue, inviting saliva to flood his eager mouth. He presses his fingers tight, feels the firmness of her flesh beneath his fingers, pebbled nipples beneath his solid palms.
Easy, slow down, let me look at you
His head is often in the sky, his mind flitting over ancient ruins and broken memories. Pressed against her bed, her lips flit across his ear and fill his head with whispers. She brings him back, towers over him, her weight draped across his lap and holding him firmly to the ground.
All I could think about was this
She shifts in shapes beneath his hands. Curves that rival the grandest sonallia; fingers arched into dragon’s claws that scrape across his skin; angled knees and elbows and hips, a masterpiece of geometry to put the oldest dwarven thaigs to shame.
Don’t stop
Threads of her hair slide through his fingers, dark as a starless night. Her neck resists the press of his teeth. Sweat and sweetness and salt fill his lungs on every inhale. Tighten the fist, pull back and breathe her in: the sweetness is most intense just behind her ear.
What are you waiting for
Every dip and crevasse is highlighted by his gaze. He stares at the bow of her lip, the blade of her cheekbone, the notch at her throat, the shallow groove at the base of her sternum, the path it traces to her navel. He follows his gaze with fingers and tongue.
Oh please, yes
Smooth and soft shift to slick and slippery as he spans the the rippling landscape of her skin. His lower lip is the perfect brush for this type of canvas; he strokes from the edges of her skin towards her center and uses her honeyed juices as his paint.
Lie back, close your eyes
He tilts his head, a flash of tongue and mouth. Coax her in a certain manner, and she sings a certain note. If he plays her just right, he can hear an entire symphony.
Face me, I want to see your face
Shivering, shuddering, an earthquake against his mouth and hands. She erupts in a shower of sound and sensation and scintillating colour, vivid and vivacious, everything he failed to appreciate until she erupted into his shackled life.
Fuck me please I can’t wait anymore
Hot and gripping, no hesitation, a hand on his shoulder and a hand between his legs. She presses the pillows of her breasts against his cheek, a shameless coaxing of her own. He pulls her close to his greedy mouth, soft skin and softer flesh and a pearlescent nipple against his teeth.
Eager, aren’t you
Soft and breathless laughter sinks into his mind, a compulsion that numbs his eternal worries. Canvas becomes creator as she traces the planes of his body with her hands and mouth, and he tries to remember how to breathe; her lips spread a network of fine delicate fissures across his limbs, into his throat, through the backs of his eyes.
Now, right now, I need you
He pulls her up and ravages her luscious mouth. This mage calls to him, summons him, pulls him from the Fade like nothing else ever could. She welcomes him, a willing host clutching him in eager arms, an intoxicating press of skin to skin.
Harder, harder, oh yes please
She gasps against his cheek. Fine bones of her skull beneath his fingers, soft skin beneath his palms, insistent hips pulled tight, a pleading moan against his cheek. He soaks her in, every whimper and every scratch, every drop of sweat against his tongue and every trace of heat from that sugared spot behind her ear. With every wisp of her that he takes, he leaves a piece behind.
Ar vara prear nasan in’na ga’man tuatha
Electric, fizzling beneath his skin, pressure at the juncture where they meet and flex, a thrumming through his limbs, it feels like magic but so much more: solid, so solid, this is real, did anything ever have any substance before her, he can’t remember now, forgetting everything except the woman twined in his arms-
Right there – that’s it – yes –
Fracturing, shattering, their pieces meld and meet, his jaw clenching so hard he hears the grinding of his teeth. He grips her nape, breathes in her lips, falls into the depths of her shining eyes.
Everything. I want everything. I want every part of you
The shuddering tension of her arms clutching him close. Her nose burrowing against his throat, seeking the same scent that he stole so happily from the crook of her neck. Her lips pour words into his ear, words of adoration he shouldn’t take, but her heated body is a shield deflecting the guilt he knows he should feel. He buries his face in her neck until he can’t see or breathe, can’t taste or feel or smell anything but her. He brushes his words against her skin, a fine layer of love that will crystallize and coalesce over time.
Lathan na, vhenan
********* Elvhen phrases, thanks to @fenxshiral‘s amazing work: – Ar vara prear nasan in’na ga’man tuatha: I leave a piece of my soul with you every time we join – Lathan na: I love you
HAHAHAHAHAH OH NO SEND HELP I LAUGHED TOO MUCH AND NOW I’M DEAD
His head is often in the sky, his mind flitting over ancient ruins and broken memories. Pressed against her bed, her lips flit across his ear and fill his head with whispers. She brings him back, towers over him, her weight draped across his lap and holding him firmly to the ground.
She shifts in shapes beneath his hands. Curves that rival the grandest sonallia; fingers arched into dragon’s claws that scrape across his skin; angled knees and elbows and hips, a masterpiece of geometry to put the oldest dwarven thaigs to shame.
So many thanks and KUDOS to @nsfwfrosch for this insanely beautiful sketch. I’m going out of my mind about all the art you did for me this round… THANK YOU!! ❤️
Blackwall: Don’t play diamondback with Solas. You’ve been warned. Taught him the game last night, he turned around and beat me at it! I lost everything. Had to walk back to my quarters with only a bucket for my bits.
Me: I honestly can’t decide which of you I would rather fuck right now
The Sharper Edge of Love: Romance, Sex, and Fanfic 