вЂњShe is one of mine?вЂќ He admired her, yes. He watched her and raised a dark eyebrow. Her voice felt like something hard and sharp in his chest.В вЂњYou donвЂ™t have many weaknesses, Wolf.вЂќ Like he should be admonished for being a peeping tom. She was so beautiful, though admiring her here felt like a betrayal of trust. The spirit looked at him with hooded, sweet eyes. вЂњThis wonвЂ™t work,вЂќ he warned, already gliding the staff into his usual stance. Her presence made everything different, but it wasnвЂ™t her. She was the opposite of the rocky pitted ground.

The Black City, as they called it, hung close enough that he felt he could reach out to touch it.ДЄll softness and muscle stood like some terribly lifelike, terribly beautiful sculpture. The ever-present sense of danger, of eyes and fingers creeping up spines unseen. With its gravity-defying topography, electric greens weaving through the air and clouding the horizon with mist. The Fade was, undoubtedly, a place of strange beauty. вЂњI have endured far worse than that, and far worse than you.вЂќ вЂњShe doesnвЂ™t want you, Cullen,вЂќ she said, stronger and harsher, the tone of someone doling out hard truths.В вЂњI am the only version of her youвЂ™ll get. Ashamed of how he canвЂ™t look at this thing. вЂњStop,вЂќ he says, and is ashamed of how his voice is strangled and cracked. The leather of his gloves makes a soft noise as it curls around the grip of his sword. вЂњCullen,вЂќ she whispers, and somehow he hears it as if itвЂ™s in his ear despite the distance.В вЂњLove. That it would use her as a game pieceВ to break his mind makes the rage burn red hot in his chest. That it took what he wanted and wore her like a gown, took her body and made his first sight of her, if that were to ever be, when she was unwilling, unaware. And Maker is she perfect, the sight of her breaks whatever convincing heвЂ™d done to persuade himself he wasnвЂ™t as besotted as he felt.Дemon, he reminds himself, and the anger comes back. A little tighter, more strained, more fragile. Her image is blinded briefly by the white translucent walls that had caged him, had trapped him in with anything that Uldred had seen fit to punish him with.ДЄnd then, as always, the cracks melt together again. The blood on the floor, the smell of abominations and growing, pulsing, rotting flesh. His heavy Templar armour, the pain and sweat. When he sees her standing there, something inside him cracks for a moment. Might just take a little longer! I hope you like it! (Spoilers for Inquisition and Trespasser! Not, like, too NSFW but I wouldnвЂ™t want my mom reading it. Jumping right to it, anon! YouвЂ™re not asking too much at all, though I do deeply apologise if this bloody essay of a post pops up on your dash when youвЂ™re not interested.Д«ut honestly, long/big requests are no trouble.

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