Months. Literally, months since I updated this blog. Things have happened, I’m in a ‘healing process’ I suppose, and Dragon Age has taken over my life again.

So... Here’s a drabble of my favorites, Willow Lavellan and Cullen, 500 words even! Fluff, mostly fluff.

His shaking hands were taken into her smaller, less scarred ones.

Cullen didn’t even realize that he had started shaking again, not while they were standing around the war table.

He hadn’t noticed Leliana and Josephine leave, or that the Inquisitor was now standing at his side.

“Cullen… Is it that bad again?” She asked, her voice gentle and quiet, knowing that if his hands were shaking, his head was pounding from the withdrawal. Cullen stayed silent for a moment, before sighing and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yes. It had eased off, as you know, but… Some days, it’s like I had just stopped taking the lyrium instead of being off of it for months now. I’m sorry, Inquisitor.” Cullen said, looking at her as she shook her head. “Don’t apologize to me, Commander. I just… Wish you would have told me sooner. I’ve been trying to find something to help you, with at least the headaches. I know you’ve said my elfroot method doesn’t work or that you don’t like the taste.”

Cullen’s face scrunched slightly, shaking his head at the memory of the first time he had tried Willow’s ‘elfroot’ method for headaches. “It tasted like dirt.”

‘It tastes like earth.’ ‘Technically… It’s made of earth, Cullen.’ ‘I’m not a hart, Willow, I can’t live completely off the earth. It tastes like dirt. I don’t like it.’’ ‘You sound like a child, Cullen.’

They had bickered for minutes about it, sounding more like a couple who had been married well into their later years, than a couple who had just made themselves known to the rest of the Inquisition.

“I tried this one on Dorian after he tried drinking with Bull. He said there was too much honey in it, but with how you don’t like anything with a bitter taste…” Willow said with a smile, watching as Cullen’s face softened with his own smile. Cullen then looked at his and Willow’s hands, running his thumb over her knuckles. “I’ll work on something for the shaking, as well. I think you terrify that poor scout Jim, I think his name is, when you put your hands on your sword. Thinks you’re going to cut him down.”

“Any more of his ill timed interruptions, he may be.” Cullen said, not realizing how his voice held its ‘commander’ tone until Willow raised a scarred eyebrow at him. “I’m only joking, Willow. When he gets one of my, as you and Varric call them, ‘warrior faces’ he normally goes away.” “.. Or when you growl at him.”

“That was once, Willow… Once.” Cullen said as Willow smiled again, bringing one of his hands to her mouth, pressing her lips gently against the skin. “Come, vhenan. You’ll have to deal with said scout not too long from now. I want you to try the potion I made.” Willow then said, letting go of one of Cullen’s hands to gently pull him towards the door with her.

“If it tastes like dirt…”

And... Boom! First try at the modern au. Probably not the best, but this thing has been hanging out in my mind for a few weeks now and... It’s written!

It’s implied that Cullen and Willow have an almost relationship- kisses, hand holding, etc. All I’m saying for now! c:

Word count (for just part 1 of a hopefully chaptered story!):  2,762

“What are you working on today?” Dorian's upbeat voice carried through the room, the man smiling when he received a groan in response. “Humanities! It's frickin’ stupid and I hate it.” Willow groaned again, her head hitting the coffee table in front of her with a loud ‘thump’.

I decided to go for the whole modern AU thing... And it's closing in on 2,000 words. Maker's breath.

Introducing Willow Lavellan!

I’m posting this here because she’s going to be the Lavellan that is part of any Cullen stories from here out- since writing ‘Lavellan’ and 'Inquisitor’ gets to be a pain!

But.. Yeah! This is my Cullen romance Lavellan. :)

I have these modern things I want to write but... How the hell do I bring the lovely characters of Dragon Age into the modern setting...

Check out this playlist on @8tracks: "It's hard enough to face the world alone." 

It’s early.

So early that Hawke can see the sun breaking through the mountain tops.

Just a day ago, the man was in the Fade, accompanied by two wardens, a sarcastic elf, a Qunari (who was terrified), and the Inquisitor.

His inquisitor. Hawke smiles a sleepy, groggy smile that immediately turns into a scowl, remembering the maker-damned spiders he had to face, then the sacrifice Stroud had made so he and the rest of the Inquisitor’s party could escape with their lives. The man sighed, then noticed that he was alone, one eyebrow quirking up in a slight confusion until he noticed the door to the balcony was open, barely making out the blonde hair that looked tinted a light pink color in the early morning light. He smiled at the girl, sitting up on his elbows, his head tilting to the side.

“Inquisitor?” Hawke asked before he stood up, adjusting his pants before walking to the balcony, wrapping his arms around her from behind. She jumped at the action before leaning back against him, sighing.

“Rough night?” Hawke asked, moving his head to look at her, the girl nodding in response. “Those terrors and that… That demon’s voice haunted me. I couldn’t sleep… And tossing and turning was going to keep you awake, so I’ve been here most of the night.”

Upon hearing her confession, one of Hawke’s eyebrows quirking up. “All night… You’ve been out here all night… Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were snoring. Hawke, you only snore when you’re actually sleeping soundly.” Inquisitor said, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Excuse me, miss, I do not snore!” Hawke said with his own smile, pressing his face against the Inquisitor’s neck, the girl giggling in response as his facial hair grazed across her skin.

“I’m asking Varric as soon as Skyhold wakes up, my love.” Inquisitor says, turning to face Hawke, her smile widening. “Don’t bring Chesthair into this… He’s a dwarf. He lies.”

“Shut up, Garrett.” Inquisitor said, pressing her lips against his.

And it's official... I have played Inquisition so much that I've started saying 'Maker's Breath'. I'm writing later today but now... I sleep!

This has been on my mind for a day or two! Dorian’s my favorite, I swear.

I have this headcannon about like… A modern Dorian & female inquisitor being best friends.

Like… He’d be the one to say that they two of them that they should go on an adventure… At 3 in the morning. ‘I’m bored, let’s go.’ They’d be roommates! He can’t deal with anyone else, and she just… Trusts Dorian the most. Sera likes her bees too much, and Bull kept the fridge full of beer ('really Bull?! Not one coke?!’ also... don't mean to make Bull sound like an alcoholic... He just strikes me as the type to like his beer!).

They would have movie nights every weekend, their small apartment beaming with life from the Inquisition. These, of course, were all Dorian’s idea, inquisitor not being a fan of them too much (unless she got to spend the night with her LI if ya know what I’m sayin’!)

Of course, their best nights are the study nights. Inquisitor would be yelling about how dumb her class is while Dorian laughed at the poor girl’s anguish.

I might need to make a fic out of this…

Inspired by the mods of beardless Blackwall- man looks like Richard Armitage to my mom and I!

“What in the world…” Lavellan murmured, rubbing her eyes as she sat up, moving her hand to the opposite side of the bed, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. Repeats of the last time she woke up in Blackwall’s bed alone crept into her mind, her face scrunching in response. She sighed, throwing her legs over the side of the bed.

“Thom?” No answer. The girl was still trying to get used to his real name, it feeling foreign and strange on her tongue.

Scrunching her nose slightly, she sat up and rubbed her tired eyes again before she stood up, yawning.

“Blackwall?” the girl asked, feeling more confident with the name that she had called him and grown used to. “I’m down here, my lady.” Blackwall called out from down the stairs, Lavellan’s head tilting to the side as she made her way downstairs.

“What are you up to d-” The girl started, her words cutting short as she froze in her steps, Blackwall splashing his face with cold water, looking at Lavellan with a smile. "You- It-” She mumbled, moving one of her hands to motion towards her face. Blackwall smiled in response, moving one of his own hands to rub the now smooth skin along his chin. "I figured that a change was needed now.”

Lavellan walked closer to him, now standing to where they were face to face. “Even your hair! Maker, Thom… Did someone help you?” “Believe it or not, my lady, Dorian did. He couldn't believe it when I told him my plan.” “And he cut your hair..?” Lavellan asked, reaching a hand towards the warrior's face, her palm resting gently against his cheek, tilting her head at the new feeling of soft skin and not rough whiskers.

“You look as if you've seen a ghost.” Blackwall said as he rested his hand against hers, smiling as his lady's mouth curved gently in a soft smile. “You were handsome before, but now… Maker's breath, Blackw- Thom.” Lavellan said as her smile grew, the man before her turning his head to kiss her palm.

“I still have yet to get used to compliments from you, my lady.”

Her kisses are soft, Cullen notices.

Soft, and gentle. Barely there.

Especially in the mornings when she knows that he had snuck into bed way later than the time she had.

He loved it, though. She would wake before him, pressing her lips softly against Cullen’s nose, forehead, lips, cheeks. Her eyelashes would tickle his skin, stirring him awake unintentionally. She would murmur quiet apologies to him, starting to pull away from him, just to be brought right back to where she had previously been.

Because of her, mornings were his favorite part of the day.