#f!inquisitor/cassandra

[whisperingdusk]

Affection

Happy pride month, and my sympathies to all sapphics who got rejected by Cassandra Pentaghast. May the next game finally bring us a strong romancable woman 😔

[quiet-crows]

Received a divine vision to write Female Inquisitor/Cassandra fanfiction and who am I to deny it's calling

[cairaleighexe]

heart on my sleeve, heart in my hands, heart on my lips, i gift it away when i give you a kiss.

happy lesbian visibility week!!

[dirtybiowareconfessions]

Confession: cassandra/f!inquisitor strapwarming. that is all

[captainmagpie-risha]

In my "i want to draw non-canon lesbians" era. I finished it a few days ago but forgot to post.

Cassandra and her dear Inquisitor Ennera Lavellan. They are just friends ofc.

NSFW (nudity) under the cut 💖 (will tumblr flag this ? if yes i will put a tiny ♥ on Cassandra's breast lmao 😐)

Worship

Knowing myself i will probably come back with it after rendering their wet bodies but i have no patience left. It was meant to be a sketch :(

[herald-divine-hell]

Eyes Sorrow-Blinded, in Darkness Unbroken - Masterpost

Summary:

"Eyes sorrow-blinded, in darkness unbroken There 'pon the mountain, a voice answered my call, 'Heart that is broken, still beats unceasing, An ocean of sorrow does nobody drown. You have forgotten, spear-maid of the Alamarri. Within My creation, none are alone." - Andraste 1:6

-

The Temple of Sacred Ashes is laid to waste, a tear in the Fade seeks to claim the sky, standing upon the grave of the the Maker's Chosen, and players in this world and the next reaches to shake what little established rules remain. Yet ancient rage is not so easily dissuade, and the mercy of Andraste has long faded away. When powers old and new awake, the dawn is a feeble, lost thing. Faith is broken, peace a far dream. And the old song will be sung, even if the words are painted in blood.

-

A Dragon Age: Inquisition rewrite surrounding the idea of "What if Andraste did choose the Inquisitor", and all the problems a betrayed Alamarri warlord would cause to the modern world; and how the reality of "Andraste's Herald" would actually do to Thedas, mixed in with some funky fantasy divine shenanigans (because who doesn't like fucked up, humanized gods).

_

Chapters:

Chapter 1: In the Embrace of Demons

Chapter 2: The Pen Speaks and Silence Learns

Chapter 3: A Broken Promise

Chapter 4: A Herald's First False Song

Chapter 5: A Sister of Steel

Chapter 6: the Poison Veiled in Light

[thewardenisonthecase]

anyways the only version of straight cassandra i accept is the one where its not that she's straight per se, but she cannot cope with the feelings of loving another woman and so she does hetcomp. like that's the only way in which cassandra being "straight" makes any sense in my mind.

[stardustandash]

First of the Febuwhump stories has arrived!!

For @natsora, CPR featuring Cassandra/F!Inquisitor. I hope you like it!! It's been so long since I've played around in Dragon Age and this was very fun to write (and ended up way longer than intended lol).

Words: 2,012

Tags: near-drowning, hypothermia, hurt/comfort, Cassandra's gay panic

ao3 link

when is a kiss not truly a kiss?

The Emprise du Lion is always cold. Cassandra has been through a handful of times in the past, and those few times only because it lies on one of the main routes from Orlais to Ferelden. There is not much of anything here, aside from some stunning mountain vistas. Of course, the cold did lend itself to nights in the tent spent huddled for warmth, just her and the Inquisitor. Not that Cassandra thought of it like that. It was simply nice to be able to cuddle with a warm body and try very hard not to think about all the books where the heroine got lost in the snow with her handsome love interest and they needed to keep each other warm. The Inquisitor is the Inquisitor. She is fearsome and strong and above all else, untouchable.

Cassandra shakes her head to clear it and follows after said Inquisitor. Among the snow Lavellan’s armour shines bright as her smile as she laughs at something Dorian has said. She watches them, jealous of the easy camaraderie between the two. And with her eyes forward she can ignore the glances from Varric. He has been exceptionally annoying of late, making crude innuendos about the sleeping arrangements whenever Lavellan is just out of earshot or raising his eyebrows suggestively whenever Cassandra’s eyes linger too long. She has tried pointing out that she is not about to let the Inquisitor share a tent with a man she is not in a relationship with, and that she must keep an eye on Lavellan as one of her guards. Yet as always Varric never listens. Ugh.

Today the cold in their boots is for getting rid of the rift over the lake. Lavellan had been trying to put it off during the colder months, but now that spring is on its way they needed to get rid of it before they end up fighting demons in rowboats. Maker knows that Lavellan would try.

The rift is visible from the edge of the lake as a distant green glow. Sahrnia sits behind them, its people still present despite the red lyrium and red Templars and all the evil conjured in the valley. At least with the rift gone there will be no more demons wandering close to town. Lavellan is in agreement as she strides across the frozen lake with a sense of purpose that has Varric struggling to keep pace.

“Inquisitor, slow down. We should face them together,” Cassandra calls.

It is not the first time she has made such a request of Lavellan, and with her luck it will not be the last. The words fall on deaf ears as Lavellan only moves faster, unsheathing her greatsword as she closes in on the demons wandering below the rift. Cassandra sighs, and chases after her.

The battle is quick and messy. While Cassandra and Lavellan lay waste to the demons with their swords Dorian picks them off at a distance while Varric times careful shots. It is a dance they have perfected on the battlefield. And while Cassandra never did get used to the ballgowns and flowing movements of a nobleman’s soiree, here she thrives. She slashes at a shade and uses her shield to bash it towards Lavellan. The Inquisitor does not hesitate, barely finishing parrying a blow from a terror demon before spinning to hack the shade in two with her massive blade. The rest of the fight continues much the same way and only minutes later Lavellan has her hand raised to the rift to close it. The air hums with a low rumble as the rift pulses once, twice, then slams closed. As it does Lavellan deflates, shaking out her arm and trying to regain steady legs. Cassandra hovers close at her side but doesn’t touch her. Just close, so that the Inquisitor knows she is there if she needs someone to hold on to.

“Well, what say you we head back to Sahrnia and see what kind of food they can scrounge up for their saviour. The rest of the weird shit in this valley can wait until tomorrow,” says Varric lightly as he hefts his absurd crossbow onto his back.

Cassandra glares at him. He is not the leader of this party, and if it were not the Inquisitor, it would be Cassandra who made the calls.

“Sounds great,” says Lavellan in a tired voice.

“It is far too cold out here, and I would like to be back by a fire sooner rather than later,” agrees Dorian.

“At least we don’t have too far to go,” says Varric as he takes up the lead.

Walking while staring at the dwarf’s broad back is aggravating, but Cassandra will not let herself move too far from the Inquisitor. Just in case. This is why, as they reach the bank nearest the town, Cassandra is the only one to hear the ice cracking.

She pauses first as the low, snapping sound meets her ears. Her eyes scan for potential enemies sneaking up on their flank before she realizes that the Inquisitor is no longer moving behind her. That the sound came from below.

Cassandra turns slowly to see Lavellan frozen on the ice. A crack spiderwebs below Lavellan’s boot and Cassandra is suddenly aware of how much weight the armour and sword that grace the Inquisitor must weigh.

“Stay very still,” says Cassandra in a calm, commanding tone. “You will be fine.”

The panic on Lavellan’s face says that she very much doubts the veracity of that statement, but the trust in her eyes nearly undoes all the calm resolve Cassandra’s trying to cling to. She nods, muscles tense and frozen. They are only mere feet from the shore, Cassandra could reach and grab her and lunge the rest of the ten feet or so to solid ground. But that might send both of them through the ice. No, she needs to be more cautious about this, and it doesn’t help that Lavellan is staring her down with those big, trusting, beautiful eyes.

“Very slowly slide your foot forward. Don’t take steps, just shift your weight across the ice. Slowly.”

Lavellan follows her orders. Cassandra can hardly breathe as she shifts her weight slowly across the ice. Though she cannot reach the Inquisitor she holds her hand out like she might spontaneously gain magic and pull her to safety. Lavellan’s hand reaches back for her, the distance between them so close and yet altogether too far.

A low twanging sound echoes from the ice. There is a pause like a deep breath, before Lavellan disappears under the broken ice.

“Lavellan!”

Three voices chorus in their fear. Cassandra goes to surge forward, to dive in after Lavellan if she must, to get her out of the water but finds Varric’s strong hands holding her back. Instead it is Dorian who sprints towards the hole through which the Inquisitor disappeared.

“Let me go,” Cassandra all but growls at Varric as she struggles against him.

“No way, Seeker. Your muscles plus your armour would mean you’d go straight to the bottom too.”

Straight to the bottom too. Lavellan, straight to the bottom of the lake. Maker, she doesn’t even know if the Inquisitor can swim. Something bitter and fearful claws its way up Cassandra’s throat but she cannot act on it. She must be strong. Instead she digs in her pouch for potions. The town is not far, but too far for whatever healing Lavellan might need. She stands at the ready, watching as Dorian kneels carefully at the edge of the ice and plunges a hand into the water. He searches around for a moment before his face lights up with determination and he begins trying to pull something.

“Some help would be nice,” he shouts back at them, voice strained with more than just effort.

“Help him, Varric,” says Cassandra.

For once there isn’t some kind of sarcastic remark as Varric carefully eases himself onto the ice and dunks his arms in the water too. Together he and Dorian manage to heave a boneless, fully armoured Lavellan out of the water. She lies limp on the ice as Dorian and Varric drag her to shore. As soon as she’s in reach Cassandra rips her out of their hands and kneels beside her.

The Inquisitor’s lips are blue. Her eyes closed and the lids are darkened to purple. Yet the most concerning thing is that Cassandra cannot tell if she is breathing. She unsheathes her dagger and holds it under Lavellan’s nose. Seconds pass but no air mists the blade. They did not have much time. Cassandra uses her dagger to slice the leather straps of Lavellan’s armour and tosses it aside. Without it she seems so small, but Cassandra cannot stop to think on it. Instead she tries to remember every bit of her training for such a scenario as she folds her hands together over Lavellan’s breastbone and presses down in what she hopes is the correct rhythm.

“What are you doing?” asks Dorian. He sounds on the edge of hysterical but if this is going to work Cassandra cannot stop.

Instead she murmurs to Lavellan. “Breathe, Lavellan. By the Maker you are not meant to die here. Please, breathe.”

Lavellan, ever ignoring Cassandra’s suggestions, only moves in small jolts as Cassandra presses down on her. After what she hopes is the correct amount of presses Cassandra leans down to breathe for her. Lavellan’s lips are icy cold against her own and Cassandra tries to ignore every thought in her brain that isn’t about trying to save her life. The world shrinks down to her, Lavellan, and the count of compressions and breaths. Varric and Dorian could be yelling blasphemy or dancing naked in the snow for all she knows. All that matters is trying to bring back Lavellan.

The cycle continues. For how long Cassandra cannot say. She cannot stop, she cannot let Lavellan die. The hope that Lavellan will breathe again fades with every compression, yet she will not stop. Then, at last, there is a tiny gasp before the body under her hands is suddenly alive and convulsing with coughs. Cassandra quickly rolls her onto her side and pats her back in a hopefully soothing manner. As she does the world comes back into sharp focus. Her hands are icy cold, and her knees are stiff against the snow. Both Varric and Dorian have swooped down upon Lavellan, potion bottles in hand and cloaks ready to wrap around her. Cassandra practically snatches the cloak from Dorians grip to gently tuck it around Lavellan. She isn’t shivering, and Cassandra knows this is not a good sign. She presses Lavellan as close to herself as she can and tries to haul them both upright. It doesn’t work. Lavellan can’t get her feet under herself no matter the effort she puts in.

So Cassandra simply shifts so she can put her arm under Lavellan’s knees and pull her up into her arms and against her chest. Her knees protest, but she can ignore them. The Inquisitor is her highest priority, and right now she needs to get her somewhere warm, and preferably with a healer.

“Dorian, run ahead and find us a place to stay in Sahrnia and get a fire going,” orders Cassandra.

To his credit, Dorian obeys without any witty remarks. He takes off towards the buildings as fast as he can though the snow.

Unfortunately, Cassandra cannot think of anything to get Varric to stop his worried hovering at her side as she strides towards Sahrnia. She does her best to ignore him, instead focusing on Lavellan. Her cheeks are pink with cold, even as her lips remain more purple. She’s far too cold. Cassandra tries holding her tighter, closer, and is rewarded by a cold nose against her neck. Feeling the Inquisitor’s skin against her own brings an odd heat to Cassandra’s cheeks. Yet she cannot let herself think on it. For now, she must take care of Lavellan.

(I intend to post this one to ao3 @natsora, if you want to give me your ao3 handle i will gift this to you there!)

[natsora]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cassandra Pentaghast, Cassandra Pentaghast/Female Trevelyan Characters: Cassandra Pentaghast, Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Female Trevelyan (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Angst, Well of Sorrows Series: Part 19 of The Sword and The Scabbard Summary:

Cassandra is angry. Her fury burns hot. And it’s all directed at Trev. Again and again, she must watch Trev throw herself into the fire, sacrifice herself on the altar of necessity. She swears no more.

[grimweaver]

Full Clip: https://youtu.be/ND09yIS8hWQ

[gyrovagi]

still thinking about blackwall's gendered dialogue differences. the chivalry towards and idealization of f!inquisitor. the frankness about sex with m!inquisitor. sheryl chee can we talk...

^ this is sooooo crazy . when f!inquisitor asks, blackwall's mind goes to the ideal of family life, which of course he doesn't believe he deserves. but in response to m!inquisitor he's firmly oriented in reality where he could've fathered a bastard at some point, who knows, but no child would deserve a father like this. (a father who's killed children.) the romanticized ideal of a happy family as a kind of just reward, as opposed to reality where a child can be born of an unknown, disgraced father and the fact they deserve better doesn't change the facts. all they can do is try and avoid the truth. and of course the focus in both cases on being 'deserving' in either a positive or negative sense. (people only get rewards they deserve in fantasy!)

and like it is. so andrastian. blackwall isn't overtly faithful in the way of leliana or cassandra, but it is clear that the idea of the inquisitor as andraste's herald means something to him, and plays heavily into his idealization of f!inquisitor/an inquisitor romancing him especially. he is invested in the idea of women as purer and closer to divinity while men (like him) (especially him) are forever marked by betrayal and violence, because it's a familiar and comfortable framework to contextualize his own guilt. we've GOT to get a war table operation going for diy feminizing hrt

[scarfacemarston]

Cullen Rutherford Fluff Alphabet

Note: I sometimes say “you” because it’s shorter than typing inquisitor constantly. This is also Gender Neutral. Please think about reblogging or at least leaving a like! This sort of thing takes time to create. Feel free to request more Cullen!

A - Affection (how do they show affection to their s/o)

Cullen is new to love. Outside of his crush on Amell/Surana, he did not have any romantic feelings towards anyone. Love was terrifying but exhilarating at the same time. It was something entirely new and engaging and something that he would put his all into. He is very physically affectionate and primarily shows his love through embraces, kisses, and cuddling. However, he also allows the Inquisitor to vent or cry as much as they need to. He will also insist on shouldering whatever burdens they are struggling with, whether that's completing extra paperwork, scaring off those who want to bother them, or leaving behind little treats to cheer them up; he can do it all.

B - Best Friend (what are they like as a best friend?)

Cullen doesn't really consider himself to have many friends until Inquisition. In fact, the last time he had friends was Kinloch Hold before it went to hell. (However, this was only with his fellow templars.) Inquisition is when he meets Cassandra, Leliana, Josephine, and the rest of the crew. It took time for him to see them more than colleagues, but they found a devoted, loyal, encouraging friend in the former templar who continued on even when he was at his worst. As time passed, he began displaying a more relaxed side to him and joined in game nights and his time with people like Dorian. 

C - Cuddling (do they like to cuddle? And how would they do it?)

Oh, he loves to cuddle.  His family was very physically affectionate, but that quit once he joined the Templars. He didn't know how touch starved he was until he brushed hands with the Inquisitor and even more so when he held them for the first time. He hadn't allowed anyone near him since the fall of Kinloch Hold. Now, he can't sleep properly without holding the Inquisitor. Even if he can't sleep, his mind and body feel at peace in a way they never could before. 

D - Domestic (do they want to settle down? How good are they at cooking and cleaning)

His childhood dream was to be a templar. He never thought of any sort of domesticity. Templars rarely settled down. He never viewed himself as settling down during Inquisition, either, until he fell in love with the Inquisitor and only then did he dare to dream. After seeing what Mia has, he couldn't help but want the same. He wants a spouse, kids (or to be a busy uncle), and, of course, as many malbari as he can manage.

Cullen is not an amazing cook, but he's functional. Can he make basics like stew? Sure. Could he grill something? Sure. It's straightforward. Porridge isn't difficult either, but he's more likely to live off of rations. During Inquisition Inquisition, Cassandra made sure he ate at least twice a day. He is very tidy, but he has been known to be a disorganized type of organized, too.

E - Ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

We've actually seen this in the game! He tries to maintain an air of professionalism and keep it with a bit of distance. He will still try to maintain his professionalism if you break his heart, but the hurt might bleed out. He tries to use logic and put some distance between the two of you.  However, it also depends on the circumstances. He can be very gentle about it and very apologetic. 

F - Fiancé (how do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Again, Cullen didn't have any ideas of romantic commitment until they met the Inquisitor. We know he's incredibly devoted to the templars and the Inquisition, so he has no issue with commitment. However, once he fell in love, he fell in love hard. I don't think it took that long for him to start fantasizing about marriage, even if he was so sure it would never happen. Cullen would wait for the right moment, but it doesn't necessarily need to be planned, just that it feels right like we see in the game. 

G - Gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

We've seen that Cullen can be incredibly tender and gentle. He especially appreciates having the ability and the safety to do so, emotionally and physically. He isn't ashamed of showing his gentle side - he cares for you more than anyone or anything else - but that doesn't mean he won't glare someone like Jim down if he tries to interrupt. The more comfortable he gets with you, the more likely you will see him become even more gentle. He is far more soft-spoken and sometimes even delicate in the way he touches you. 

H: Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

His hugs are bone-crushing but one of the safest feelings in the world. Some of his hugs can be quite gentle and tender like he's afraid he'll hurt you, but usually, they are more solid, as if he wants to cement you there.

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Cullen feels it quickly, but that doesn't mean he'll say it. When he falls, he falls hard. He doesn't mean to, it's only happened once before and went horribly wrong. He'll try to deny it to himself, also going through self-doubt, thinking he isn't good or deserving enough to have that happiness, but he will sometimes pine for the Inquisitor. Once the Inquisitor is in a relationship with him, he is anxious about when to reveal his feelings, but he will do so in a quiet moment, like cuddling together in bed. However, he'd much prefer his partner be the one to say it first. 

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

As alluded to before, he has a lot of self-doubt and self-loathing as he questions whether he deserves love after everything he has done. Early in the relationship, it would hurt, but he would tell himself that you are making the right decision…but that doesn't mean he'll give up entirely. As he becomes more secure in the relationship, he is more likely to get jealous despite that security because he knows what the two of you have built. He is more likely to step in verbally or give some light PDA.

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you?)

He kisses many ways, but they tend to be either tender or passionate. There's not quite an in-between. Expect a lot of stolen kisses, especially if the two of you have or are busy. He loves kissing on the hand, wrist, neck, and behind the ear, anywhere he can.

L: Little Ones (How are they with kids?)

Cullen feels very awkward around children. He's never disliked them, and he was a good brother to his siblings. Some of the younger templars looked up to him during training. However, after becoming a templar, he sort of "lost" his ability to relate to children. He's kind but stiff around them. Sometimes, he could briefly imagine having a child or two of his own, but that was always a fleeting thought. It wasn't until meeting the Inquisitor and reconnecting with Mia that he truly wondered about having a child. He wants it, whether through birth or adoption, but he would never force the Inquisitor into anything. 

M: Mornings (How are mornings spent with them?)

Cullen gets up early. He usually has his armour polished and on, training completed, and reports from the night before reviewed by 7:00 am. He often forgets to eat breakfast or munches on rations or jerky. Cassandra, Leliana, Josephine, and now the Inquisitor all make sure he eats breakfast.

You're a "bad" influence in that he wants to sleep in or stay in bed and cuddle longer. His new time to complete his routine is a whopping…..8:00 am. Since leaving the Inquisition together, he sleeps a bit later but still prefers to wake up early. 

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

That man does not sleep. He just doesn't. It's like it's a foreign concept to him. However, it is not all workaholic tendencies. Sometimes, it's to avoid the nightmares he's had for well over a decade. Other times, the lyrium keeps him awake. Even when you pursue a romance with him, he struggles to stay in bed only because he can't shut his mind off, but a nice massage, cuddles, and or sex tends to quiet those thoughts. Otherwise, he's content watching over the Inquisitor.

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Cullen is extremely private about himself. He reveals things incredibly slowly, but sometimes, his most personal moments come out at the most inopportune times when he doesn't have a choice but to reveal them, as seen with his lyrium addiction or his nightmares. These moments are incredibly frustrating to him, and he detests them when they happen. That's why, despite his discomfort, he is telling himself that he must be far more open and communicative so he has power over what to share, what not to share, and when to do so.

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Believe it or not, Cullen can be irritable and angry. Most of it is the lrium, but he holds everything inside of him until eventually, it comes out whether he wants it to not. Usually, it's a whole series of events that cause him to eventually snap, but it is possible for something triggering to cause him to explode or shut down.

However, he is incredibly patient in most situations, but he is not perfect. He will not tolerate many things, as seen with some of the more annoying chantry members in DAI. 

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every detail in passing, or do they kind of forget? )

Cullen sometimes struggles with his memory due in part to the lyrium but more so because he has so much on his mind. However, he will make you a priority above all else. Unfortunately, he punishes himself if he forgets or gets something wrong. Overall, he commits everything he can to memory, and as his lyrium cravings subside, he is more clearly able to remember things. He wants to know everything you're willing to share, whether it's your birthday, favorite color, favorite food, best battle tactics, or favorite ways to turn you on.

R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

It's a difficult memory for him, but the relief he felt when the Inquisitor revealed they still cared for him despite his lyrium addiction and his trauma. It's not the most romantic memory, but it is a meaningful one. More positively, he loves how he surprised you with that first kiss on the battlements… until Jim interrupted. The morning after he and the Inquisitor slept together was also dear to him. 

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

We know and have seen how protective Cullen is. He is ready to give up his life at a moment's notice if needed, especially if it's for the Inquisitor. He was willing to leave the Inquisition because he felt he was a liability to it and the inquisitor. He is incredibly selfless and self-sacrificing. He's also not afraid to voice his opinion in defense of his partner. As for him, he doesn't really expect anything in return. However, he already thinks you protect him by looking out for his well-being, whether it's the lyrium, his anxiety, eating, sleeping, etc. He also greatly appreciates it if you speak up in defense of him for whatever reason, but he never expects it.

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, and gifts?)

After much worrying, he would fret about it and might turn to someone like Josephine for help or even Varric, Dorian, or Leliana. However, he is capable of giving gifts on his own, planning outings, as seen with the lake and giving his lucky coin to the Inquisitor. He definitely tries, but he's always worried he'll fuck it up somehow.

U: Ugly (What would be a bad habit of theirs?)

He does have a temper and when hurt, he can lash out. We've seen this when he threw his lyrium kit against the wall, nearly hitting the Inquisitor. However, he works very hard to keep control of it. His anxiety and self-doubt can also be a problem, but again, he tries to hide these feelings as best as he can.

As for an actual habit, his pacing and constant movement can be anxiety-inducing to some. His office has a pacing track on it. 

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He knows he's handsome. He sees the way people look at him and treat him. He's not stupid. We know he styles his hair, but I think PART of that is due to some insecurity about his curls. Other than that, he focuses on the upkeep of his armor, but that is habit and perfectionism. Besides his hair, he doesn't spend much time on his appearance.

W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He would convince himself that he would. He never expected you to return his feelings, but he knows he would be crushed if you ever left him. He would respect your decision but doubt that he'd ever feel whole again as he'd be unlikely to trust himself with another partner.

X: Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

Cullen secretly has a sweet tooth, but he doesn't want anyone to know that. Still, he wouldn't mind being given sticky buns or a pastry. (He's lying. He will devour them.)

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

We know he mumbles, tosses and turns, and has nightmares and insomnia. The poor guy has it all. However, he also sweats and overheats easily. This all improves as the lyrium addiction subsides. However, one thing that does not change is that he overheats easily…………………………….but still wants to cuddle. Once he has his arms around the Inquisitor, good luck getting up.

[lana-writes]

On the Sharing of Tents

A Solas x F!Lavellan fanfic

Word Count: 1.9k

Rating: General Audiences

Tags/Warnings: literally nothing but fluff, just two idiots who can't recognize that they're already in love with each other

Summary: Shortly after the destruction of Haven, the Inquisitor and her party find themselves faced with the decision of sleeping arrangements in camp. It shouldn't be an issue but neither Althima nor Solas can get their recent kiss out of their minds.

A/N: This is very innocent, maybe a little half baked but it's cute and I wanted to share it 🩷

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Character Letters (Etsy)

Rain was already drizzling as the party watched the dark clouds rolling over the mountains, but it was the distant sound of thunder that alerted them to the issue at hand. They’d made camp for the evening but the issue of tent arrangements came into question for the first time since they’d begun this Inquisition. Until now, Cassandra had always been with them, and sleeping arrangements had always come down to gender. Althima and Cassandra would share one and the others, usually Varric and Solas would share the other. This time however, the numbers were odd. 

As they made the choice to stop for the night, Althima was the first to realize what that would mean for their sleeping arrangements. 

“Which one of you will bunk with me?” she had asked as they ate a little supper by the fire. Blackwall nearly choked on his food and coughed a few times. Solas’s reaction was far more subdued, his eyebrows lifting in surprise at the question. “Cassandra would usually, but I don’t want you all feeling cramped while I have a tent all to myself.” 

“I’m content to sleep outside,” the Iron Bull answered as though it was obvious. 

“There is a storm coming soon,” Solas added, “you may not wish to remain out in the open tonight.” As if on cue, soft thunder echoed through the clouds above. 

“You may be right,” Bull conceded. “I don’t see why it matters though. Just choose one of us.”

“I was only asking if any of you had a preference,” she said.

“If anything, the Inquisitor should be afforded her own tent,” Blackwall suggested, regaining his composure. 

“No,” she replied, “I get enough special treatment, I wouldn’t want you all to be crowded into one tent. They’re small enough with two people. We all deserve some decent rest if we can get it.” 

A few moments passed before Blackwall said, “Perhaps Solas should.”  

“Is it because they’re both elves?” Bull asked him, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“No–I–” Blackwall started, “she just might be more comfortable with him than us.” 

“Because they’re elves?” Bull repeated, his grin spreading. Althima and Solas both smiled a little at his teasing. 

“Because he’s been with the Inquisition longer,” Blackwall tried to defend himself. “They’re both quiet and mages. They get along. That’s all. I didn’t mean anything by it.” 

“We know,” Althima chuckled. 

“Make your choice, Inquisitor,” Bull said, “before our warden puts his foot in his mouth again.” The group went quiet save for the faint thunder in the distance. She glanced around at her traveling companions, eyes landing on Solas watching her curiously.

“Solas, I suppose,” she turned her face back to the bowl in her hands, “if he’s willing.” 

“Of course,” he replied. The rain began to pick up then, from a mist to spitting then pouring and it was only getting heavier as the wind picked up. The edge of the storm had reached them and the whole camp scrambled inside what shelter they had. By the time they all reached their tents, their outer layers were nearly soaked. Solas was the last in their tent, tying it firmly closed before the wind could whip open the front flaps. He started to turn once he was finished. 

“Wait!” she said, “if you could face that way for just a moment.” He obeyed and waited patiently as he listened to her clothes rustling. It didn’t bother him that she was changing just inches away from him, at least he thought it didn’t. They were agents of the Inquisition on a mission in the field, colleagues. There wasn’t any room for embarrassment or anxiety. It was a utilitarian arrangement. But the memory of their kiss still lingered in his mind. They’d addressed it the following morning but he hadn’t yet decided what to do about it. She’d been so patient and kind with him, giving him whatever space he needed. He couldn’t remember someone being so accommodating with him before. Memories of their kiss brought warmth to his face and ears. He hoped she wouldn’t see in the dim light. This wasn’t the place to speak of it again. 

“Alright,” she said finally. “Thank you.” She wore a new set of dry clothes as she folded her rain soaked tunic and pants into a neat pile. “I can turn if you want to change into some dry clothes.”

“Thank you,” he said, offering her a grateful smile as he gathered his own spare clothes from his pack. 

She sat on her bedroll with her back to him, staring at the wall of canvas in front of her as thunder shook the tent around them. The roar of the rain filled the air and a flash of lightning made her eyes dart to the side towards the tent’s opening. The green of Solas’s trousers out of the corner of her eye reminded her to keep her eyes forward. She’d shared tents with men before, but typically that was her fellow clan members who she’d known since childhood. This was the first time sharing with someone she admired so greatly, someone she cared for. Her own memories of their kiss in the Fade had scarcely left her mind since it happened. She hoped her own nerves wouldn’t show. In her experience, Solas was exceedingly perceptive but even if he did notice the tinge of pink in her ears or any insecurity in her voice, she was confident he wouldn’t mention it. 

“Do you think the storm will be very bad?” she asked, desperate to fill the silence between them. The rain might be roaring but the two of them had been silent as they changed clothes. 

“No,” he said. “I imagine it will pass in a few hours. We have only to wait it out.” She heard him sit behind her on his own bedding and she started to turn.

“May I?” 

“Yes.” She turned now to face the door, glancing over at him now in dry clothes as he bundled his damp ones similarly to her own. 

“I hope you know I didn’t choose you because of our– well, because of the kiss,” she said. “It just seemed the most comfortable arrangement for everyone involved. Blackwall seemed nervous at the thought of sharing a tent with me and I believe we both know now how loudly the Bull can snore. It’s bad enough in the next tent over, I can’t imagine being right next to him,” she chuckled as she explained herself. “You and I– Well, it just makes sense, doesn’t it?” She realized how that sounded and mentally scolded herself. She was trying to give him space to figure his feelings out after all. Althima was about to apologize for that too, but he stopped her. 

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” he smiled. “I understand.” There was a gentleness to his smile when he looked at her. She’d noticed it from the beginning. Something about his eyes and the softness of his expressions. It was comforting. She let out a soft laugh in relief. They stared back at each other for a moment and she could feel her heart racing from the sustained eye contact. She had to say something else. 

“You know, I don’t think I ever thanked you,” she said, speaking up to be heard above the rain, “properly, you know, for stabilizing the mark.”

“I had no choice,” he said. “If I didn’t you would die and the Breach would have remained open.” 

“Still,” she said, “thank you. You’ve already saved my life several times over and I’m grateful for each one. Thank you, truly.” 

“You are very welcome. After all, it would not do to lose you.”

“No, it would not.” 

They fell silent again and after a short while, he laid down and she followed. Mere inches separated them as the edges of their bedding nearly touched. The ground was soft but not muddy, thank the gods, though it may be come morning. The area where they camped was high on a small cliff and shouldn’t be at risk of flooding if the rain continued. The sound of the rain should have been relaxing but Althima couldn’t stop thinking about how close he was. When she closed her eyes, she saw his face that night in the Fade when he kissed her, a small smile on his lips as he shook his head and came back for more. She shivered at the thought of how close he was. If they wished– If she thought he would accept her touch, she might kiss him again but that was far too much to consider. Still, her thoughts turned to the memory of his kiss and his touch. Had he thought about it too? Had it consumed his thoughts when she was close like it had for her? 

“Have you–” The words began to tumble out of her but she stopped herself. When she glanced over, she could see his head turned to look at her. She’d done it now and it was too late to abandon the question. 

“Have I?” he asked. The rain had lightened enough that they didn’t need to shout over its roar anymore.

“Have you given it any thought… what happened before?” 

“Ah,” he said, staring up at the tent above them. Althima wanted to hide her face in her hands or run out into the storm. Why did she say anything about it? She told him he could take all the time he needed. She shouldn’t have said anything. “If this is about the kiss,” he said. She held her breath and watched him. She could see his eyes cut over to her briefly. “It has scarcely left my thoughts.” She let out a breath of relief and smiled. 

“My experience has been the same,” she said, hurriedly adding, “but I would not rush you! I’m sorry for asking. I– It can be hard to think of much else at times.” She grimaced and looked away from him, rubbing a hand over her face. That was too much, too revealing. She shouldn't have said all of that. What she didn’t see was the smile on his face that he too turned away to hide. 

“I understand the feeling,” he said. The confession was a peace offering to soothe her obvious embarrassment. “And I am grateful for the patience you’ve shown me.” She bit her lip and looked over at him again. He understood?

“Of course,” she replied, “What else would you do for someone you–” She stopped again, lips still ajar, unable to finish the thought. He turned and locked eyes with her, a similar look of surprise evident on his face even in the dim light. She finally closed her mouth and swallowed as she stared back at him. “Someone you–” she tried to finish it “–you care for.” His face remained frozen for a few moments more before melting into a gentle smile. 

“We should rest,” he said finally. She nodded quickly. 

“Yes, we should,” she agreed, pulling her blanket up over her shoulder as she turned away. “Goodnight.” 

“On nydha, Althima.” She felt her name sink into her like one might sink gratefully into a hot bath. It felt like a gift to hear him use her given name rather than her title as everyone seemed to do. He spoke so formally to everyone, even her so much so that to hear her name like this felt so intimate and its use was very purposeful. She knew, if this was any indication of his feelings, he would not forget the kiss for quite some time to come and if that were the case, she had no problem waiting as long as he needed to kiss her again.

Elven translations via "Project Elvhen: Expanding the Elvhen Language" by FenxShiral On nydha - Good night

[cairaleighexe]

happy yuri day to the cover i made for their little comic <3

[fromthedaswithlove]

A letter from Morrigan to Cassandra, informing her that a F!Lavellan has gone with Solas 🥹

Seeker, 

‘Tis unfortunate that I am writing this to you, as you know I do not wish to bear such news lightly.

As of this evening, after the elvhen god Elgar’nan had been slain, Inquisitor Lavellan has gone to the Fade with Solas. There was no convincing her to stray from this path, mind you. Otherwise, I would have done so. 

That is the thing about love, isn’t it? ‘Tis a fond thing, to have bear witness to such great acts, where love seems to be triumphant over everything else, especially in grim times like this. 

The Inquisitor had waited for him, and now they are together once more. The legends will try to change that, say that it was the Dread Wolf who stole away the Inquisitor. But we will know the truth.

As for the matters that the Inquisitor has left behind, I leave that fate in your hands, Seeker Pentaghast. There is not much left here for me to do, as it is time for even I to move on. 

There will be a day where heroes will rise once again. I will be there, when history needs a nudge in the right direction. 

Morrigan

[averil2004]

My first incorrect quote from Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Cassandra: I wonder what is between Inquisitor and Solas.

Varric: Well, they're both elves and do some kind of magic staff.

Sera: Solas said he only likes women, but maybe he change his mind ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

*Meanwhile*

Inquisitor: F*ck you.

Solas: No, f*ck you.

Inquisitor: Bastard.

Solas: Traitor.

Vivienne: How long they're arguing?

Dorian: 1 hour, I guess. Want some popcorn?