#trevelyan x cassandra

[frecklef0x]

A victory kiss after getting jumped at camp 😏

[animezinglife]

"I want a man who sweeps me off my feet: who gives me flowers and reads me poetry by candlelight. I want the ideal. You are the Inquisitor and the Herald of Andraste. You cannot be that man." "I can be that man, Cassandra."

[blondie-inky-esaldir]

Rhysell's energies

[sun-marie]

"I want a man who sweeps me off my feet, who gives me flowers and reads me poetry by candlelight."

[inquisitorgaywarden]

Bioware made the first five minutes of DAI look like this and then refused us this romance? Unacceptable.

[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.

[melisusthewee]

So how about that Barbie movie meme?

aka Fast Times at the Winter Palace

[leopardmuffinxo]

A surprise, I’ll admit. But not a problem. [x]

[sweetjulieapples]

Cullen doing everything but going back to camp for sleep.

[anneapocalypse]

Some Summer Recs!

It has been far, far too long since I did a rec post! I can't promise to be back to it every month (though I'd really like to get back toward that), but here's some fics I have read and enjoyed! Mostly Dragon Age, and one FFXIV (though I expect to have some more recs for the latter in the future).

Candles at your feet by @skyeventide. Dragon Age, Cyril de Montfort/M!Trevelyan, 15K, rated E. An absolute gem of a fic which I had the privilege of beta reading. Gorgeous prose, a deeply thoughtful portrayal of Cyril and of Orlesian high social, and of the events of Trespasser from that perspective.

How Deep the Bullet Lies by @crackinglamb. Dragon Age, Cassandra/Solas, 4200 words, rated E. Cassandra receives a surprise visit during the Exalted Council. A beautifully-written exploration of unresolved tension and unanswered questions.

Freedom by @dalishkadan. Dragon Age, F!Lavellan/Iron Bull, 2400 words, rated T. An introspective fic that really captures the exhaustion the Inquisitor feels by Trespasser.

The Vallaslin by @dreadfutures. Dragon Age, F!Lavellan & Solas, 1900 words, rated G. An adopted Lavellan prepares to take vallaslin for the first time; Solas voices his objections. A great interplay of tension, not only between the two characters, but what they represent.

remember me when i die (for you) by @farfromdaylight. FFXIV, Crysalt Exarch/WoL, 7200 words, rated T. A gorgeous character study of the Crystal Exarch and his journey. Spoilers for Shadowbringers.

Happy July, friends, and happy reading.

[lagunapoint]

His lips on mine speak words not voiced, a prayer Which travels down my spine like flames that shatter night.

His eyes reflect the heaven’s stars, the Maker’s light. My body opens, filled and blessed, my spirit there. Not merely housed in flesh, but brought to life.

-Carmenum di Amatus

[imdoingaokay]

R!Companions If The Inquisitor Dies

(A/N) I like angst. Sowwy.

I’m a Cullen girlie so I started thinking of what he would be like if his Inky died and… I made this.

Also, I want to say that, without The Inquisitor, I genuinely don’t think The Inquisition would last that long. And I don’t think it’s because The Inquisition would lack leadership or anything, I think it would lack the draw or the figurehead that would garner the support needed to maintain it. So it’s kind of implied that the Inquisition disbands. 

It is also implied that this all takes place a while after Corypheus is defeated… Except for Solas’ part (hehehehe)

TW: Death, descriptions of death, burning and burying (idk maybe you’re claustrophobic), and more sadness.

Major Spoilers

Sorry again, love you pookie bear

Blackwall/Thom Rainer: Blackwall watches The Inquisitor fall, he tried to shield them, but it all happened too fast, far too fast for him to realize what was happening. He’s rushing over to his friend as fast as possible as if that’ll prevent them from dying, but once he sees how limp The Inquisitor is, even he knows that his friend is dead.

His only comfort is that their death was quick and hopefully, painless. He’ll throw himself into the drink for a little while. Just for the period of time right before and after The Inquisitor’s funeral. Afterward, he stays with The Inquisition for some time. He does what he can, making the adjustment.

He leaves much later, whether to the custody of the Grey Wardens or himself, but he never forgets his friend, never forgets what they did for him.

Romanced, he’s rushing over to his lover, scooping them up in his arms while he pulls them away. He begs them to open their eyes and pleads with the Maker to not take them away… not yet. But when the battle is over, and the rest of the party sees Rainer and The Inquisitor, it’s obvious that their friend and his lover his gone.

He drinks for a bit longer than he would if he was just a friend, and is less able to help around Skyhold. With what little he is doing, he feels like a coward, but he simply can’t will himself to get up and help. 

Eventually, he’ll leave like he would before, but as he watches them burn or bury his lover’s body, he realizes that a part of him will be locked away in his lover. He’ll still be him, but he’ll be unable to show the same love and devotion to anyone else.

Cassandra: Cassandra is immediately slicing the bastard who killed her friend, and with a quick swipe of her blade, the offender is gone. She still turns to her friend and attempts to wake them, but after feeling for their pulse, even she realizes that her friend is dead. She solemnly waits for the rest of the group to gather around and help her transport her friend's body back to Skyhold, as is most likely the one sending the letter to Leliana of the Inquisitor’s death. Initially, she thinks of taking the role of Inquisitor, only to immediately reject the idea. However, she continues to work tirelessly to help the rest of The Inquisition deal with the death of their leader, but it’s hard. She also tries to help the lover of The Inquisitor, but even though she tries, she can’t seem to find the right words to comfort them. She’s struggling too, The Inquisitor was her friend as well.

Romanced, she’s immediately dragging her lover away, crying out for them, but even she has to accept that she has lost another lover.

She does everything she would if the pair wasn’t together, but she officially swears off love. No one else can measure up to Regalyan or her Inquisitor. And with her focus now on the Seekers and The Inquisition, Cassandra finds herself unable to focus on things like love.

Cole: He knows immediately that The Inquisitor is gone. It doesn’t help, of course. All he does is shout for his friend, but once the battle dies down, Cole watches the rest of the group gather around the motionless Inquisitor. Cole whispers that their friend is dead, which potentially leads to some angry words being thrown at him, depending on who is present.

He stays around Skyhold, mostly helping those who grieve The Inquisitor. He spends most of his time with The Inquisitor’s love interest if they had one. He finds his efforts fruitful, as some of those he attempts to help accept it far easier than some. But the ones that don’t accept his help, Cole knows they need it the most. So he sends others to help instead, people willing to talk to them, and comfort them. Part of him feels The Inquisitor’s spirit from far away, and he hopes they aren’t too upset with his antics.

He’s just trying to help, after all. Kind of like The Inquisitor.

Cullen Rutherford: He hears about it right after Leliana, a letter attached to a bird flies through the hole in his roof and down the ladder right to his desk. He absentmindedly opens the letter, where he reads frantic, scrawled words that culminate in some of the most dreadful words he’d ever read.

“The Inquisitor is dead.”

He rushes over to Leliana, who is already speaking to Josephine, and all three retreat to the War Room where they begin to discuss what the next steps are. Cullen does his best to put on a brave face, he does what he can to provide some sense of stability, but he’d be a liar if he wasn’t struggling himself. The Inquisitor seemed so… invincible, so strong, how were they able to survive so much and then just… die? It didn’t make any sense.

The most Cullen is able to do is send a prayer to Andraste, asking her to give The Inquisitor a safe journey to The Golden City, they deserved that much.

Eventually, Cullen will head home, to his siblings in South Reach, where they will accept him with open arms. Cullen continues to live on, spending time with his family, teaching his nephew chess, and sending letters to his friends in The Inquisition. He sets up a clinic for former templars and even gets a Mabari down the line.

But most importantly, he keeps on living.

Romanced, he was just thinking about them. He was sitting at his desk, musing over some paperwork while his mind drifted to a few days ago. He was laying in bed with his lover, while they clung to his chest, asking for reasons not to leave on this trip. He had laughed, petting their hair gently as he said “You have to go, my love.”

He watched them sigh and get up, their hand still lingering on his arm, “I love you” they had whispered. 

“I love you t-”

“Cullen.” He heard, Leliana standing in front of his desk. He smiled for a moment, about to greet her, but her furrowed eyebrows and deepened frown told her there was nothing to smile about. Her next words were careful and gentle, but still, they got their point across. “I’m afraid that The Inquisitor perished in the ensuing battle.” She said, watching Cullen’s face morph into something unexplainable. He furrowed his own brown and opened his mouth as if he was about to ask what kind of joke this was, but as he saw the painfully sympathetic look on Leliana’s face, he knew.

He moved so suddenly his chair fell backward, he could barely look at the desk where he and his lover had-

“We need to discuss… the next steps…” Cullen shook his head, his breathing becoming rapid, all he could hear was his own heartbeat, that and the singing of…

“Perhaps we should-” Leliana began, only to watch Cullen pass by her. But with every step he took, he felt his legs slowly become heavier and heavier until he all but collapsed on the bridge that connected the battlements to the rotunda. Leliana quickly followed after him, attempting to comfort him. His head hurts, and he can’t seem to stop hearing the agonizing sound of the lyrium, calling out to him.

Somehow he gets into his bed, unable to work for the rest of the day. When his lover’s body comes back from wherever they were sent, he’s in a bit of a better place. Maker, it crushes him if he sees that they were still holding onto his coin. He prays that they won’t go too far, that they’ll wait for him on the other side, and that somehow, they’ll be there when he dies. He begs them not to go too far, that he’ll be with them soon, that he loves them, and he’ll never forget them. 

It takes more time, but eventually, he finds himself back in South Reach, where he opens a clinic for templars and lives his life. But even then, he waits for the day when he dies, the day he can finally see his lover again.

Until then, he’ll keep living.

Dorian Pavus: Shoots the bastard as soon as he sees his friend fall. Dorian surrounds The Inquisitor with a shield and tries to feel for a pulse. But their body is still and limp, Dorian knows what has happened. 

He attends the funeral, out of respect, and out of a sense of loyalty. But he can’t bear to watch the body be buried or burned, Maker he can’t watch. He’ll leave, deciding to focus his energy on Tevinter rather than The Inquisition, which is something he planned, but he had wished he would have more time before he had to return. He misses his friend every day and hopes that whatever afterlife they’re in, if they are in one, hopefully, they’ll save him a seat and a glass of wine for when he eventually kicks the bucket.

Romanced, he cries out, rushing over to his lover. He’s in denial as he tries to heal his Amatus, begging them to open their eyes. He pleads with the Maker, begging them to take him instead. He gets angry right after, angrily shouting at them “Why didn’t you get away? Why didn’t you run to me?” He has to be pulled off, has to be taken away from his lover’s body, as he begins to sob into his lover’s armor. It’s painful to watch, but nothing more painful than what Dorian feels.

As his lover’s funeral draw near, he throws himself into wine. And intends to drink himself to death, but then he gets sent a letter from another Magister, Maevaris.

He tells himself that he’ll keep living, at least, for The Inquisitor’s sake. But he’ll never love again, because he’s too busy, and because no other man will ever be the same as his Inquisitor.

Iron Bull: He shouts for his friend immediately, destroying the poor sod who killed The Inquisitor before they can desecrate the body further. Bull has seen many, many dead bodies, but he never imagined one day seeing The Inquisitor. Of course, he’s imagined the necessary steps of subduing The Inquisitor if they ever tried to betray him out of nowhere, but he would never imagine them like this.

He attends the funeral of The Inquisitor and tries to figure out what the next step is for him, for The Chargers. 

He’ll leave eventually, as his place was by The Inquisitor, but with them gone, there’s no need for him or his crew. He goes out drinking with The Chargers before they leave Skyhold, and he invites the rest of the inner circle, encouraging them to tell stories of The Inquisitor’s antics. It turns into a more pleasant night than anyone expected. When he leaves, he hopes that he left the rest of his friends with more positive memories than sad ones.

Romanced, all he can get out is a weak “kadan?”

He doesn’t cry, not yet, not here. He waits until he’s back in Skyhold, where he sits in the tavern, unable to stop thinking about the way his lover fell, the way their hair looked, their mouth, their eyes… Maker, their eyes. All of a sudden, he feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up, seeing Krem. It’s a simple “You okay, boss?” But that’s all it takes for Bull to let lose a torrent of tears. He clings so tightly to the dragon tooth necklace his lover gave him that he thinks he might break it. Krem and the rest of The Chargers comfort their leader the best they can, but everyone realizes that there isn’t much that can be done, as the love Bull held for his Inquisitor was far deeper than he ever described up until that moment. But The Chargers will be there for him. It’s Krem that makes the comment that The Inquisitor isn’t really gone, as the dragon tooth still is with Bull, 

“Which means something, doesn’t it Boss?”

Bull can’t help but agree, Krem’s right. The Inquisitor hasn’t left him, and he hasn’t left them either. Even when he leaves Skyhold with the rest of The Chargers, he hasn’t left them. They’re always together.

Josephine Montilyet: Josephine has the heavy task of informing the general public and the nobles of the Inquisitor’s death. Her friend’s death hurt, but she was relieved that her amount of work seemed to distract her from the heavy amount of pain she felt. She’ll leave eventually, but not without saying goodbye to her friend during their funeral. She ends up back in Antiva, working to see that her family’s business is upheld, especially after all the work her friend had put into helping her restore her family’s fortune. Platonically, she takes The Inquisitor’s death the best out of everyone but it also helps that she wasn’t present for her friend's death in the first place.

Romanced, she was not expecting it. She was minding her own business, scribbling down a letter for some high-ranking noble in Ferelden. Then all of a sudden, Leliana walks in, solemn and quiet. Leliana allows Josephine to send her a letter before Leliana asks Josephine to take a walk with her. After all, Leliana thinks her friend deserves some privacy before she hears the news. So Leliana ushers an oblivious Josephine into the War Room, where Cullen was already waiting.

Everyone could hear Josephine’s anguished cries from any corner of Skyhold. Josephine clings to Leliana, unable to support her weight as her mind tries to picture her lover in various different positions. Her mind immediately goes to what she will say to the nobility, to the chantry, but Leliana hushes her diplomat, claiming that she’ll take care of it. Josephine doesn’t want her to, but she can’t seem to get out any words in between her sobs.

She moves back to Antiva fairly soon, once all is taken care of. She begins to focus more so on her family and their trading business, potentially using this as an excuse to avoid any marriage proposals given by other nobles.

Leliana: Aside from those in the direct party, Leliana is the first to find out. She’s the one to tell Josephine, Cullen, and the many soldiers and spies under her. She prefers to be the person who tells The Inquisitor’s lover if they don’t already know, and she watches them crumble or slowly slink away, unable to truly cope with the news.

She spends time praying, asking why The Maker would take someone like The Inquisitor away when the world still needed them. 

If Hardened, she realizes she will get no answer, and furiously draws away from The Maker, deciding to spend less time praying and more time doing, as The Maker has yet to hear her pleas so far. 

Softened, she’s more kind to herself, she believes that The Maker must’ve taken The Inquisitor back because it was just their time, that it had to be, some good reason… that’s why Leliana has lost someone yet again… That has to be it.

Sera: Watching Inky crumple has her tearing her attention away from whatever they’re fighting. She calls out for help, and attempts to wake her friend, but to no avail. As the battle dies down, she watches as the rest of her friends gather around her. Sera’s confused, after all, The Inquisitor isn’t supposed to die. Not yet. They’ve survived so much! Haven, nobles, that dragon… how… how do they just… die?

She cries at camp, after hiding from everyone else. She feels ashamed of her tears, it takes the sight of someone like Blackwall or Varric to cry for her to feel less bad about her tears. And even then, she still hides them away.

She doesn’t stay in Skyhold for long, unable to attend her friend’s funeral. She believes it’s stupid to hold a funeral for someone when there’s work to be done, so she leaves. She gets back to work as a Red Jenny and never looks back.

Romanced, she cries out. She shakes them, kisses their face, anything to get them to wake. For one moment, she wishes she had magic to heal the wounds her lover had. It’ll take at least two people to drag her away from her Inky, and even then, she’s kicking and screaming. She’s reminded of her dreams where she watches her lover die, she’s reminded of her Inky kissing her cheek and saying in such a stupid voice “I’m not going anywhere”

That stupid liar! That stupid, perfect liar! Why would they lie to her? Why would they say they would never leave when there they were, gone?

She stays for the funeral before leaving, she thinks her lover deserves that much. But even then, she’s only there to say goodbye, which she doesn’t even say. It’s more of a “see you soon” if anything. She carries the memory of her lover with her, which is good enough for her.

Solas: Solas watches his friend stumble, Corypheus was recently killed, the orb destroyed, and his friend… who weakly falls to the ground. He’s torn between leaving and staying. On one hand, if he leaves, he’ll avoid the tormented look of agony The Inquisitor’s friends and lovers will hold. But they might also think that he was the one who killed them. But Solas can’t bring himself to leave, so he goes to his friend’s side. They’re gone by the time he catches them, and Solas quietly wishes that The Inquisitor didn’t have to die. He watches his friend’s inner circle climb the stairs and listens to the heartbreak that follows. While his friend’s body is carried away, Solas slips away and disappears, in hopes nobody will care or notice he’s gone. He continues his quest to tear down the veil, and with seemingly nobody to stop him, he seems to be well on his way.

Romanced, he rushes immediately to his lover’s side, but the moment he reaches them, his Inquisitor is gone. It isn’t relieving, watching his ex-lover die, the one person he expected to keep him tethered to the idea that this world may still deserve a chance. He leaves once the body is carried away, and continues his journey, but he is so much sadder. Because, at least if his vhenan was still alive, he could see them in his dreams. Now, all that he sees is their body, as if the spirits of the fade are taunting him with his failures. He hopes, in a way, that he’ll come across his lover’s spirit somewhere, so he can apologize, so can confess everything. But with the vastness of the fade, with the low probability of it all, Solas comes to the conclusion that perhaps he doesn’t deserve such closure, he just wished he could give that to his vhenan instead.

Varric Tethras: He doesn’t realize they're dead at first, focusing more on the hordes of enemies he’s dealing with. He shouts out that The Inquisitor is down, but that’s about it. Eventually, when the last of their enemies are taken down, Varric gets a chance to realize what the fuss is all about. When he hears the suffering cries of friends or potentially a lover, Varric realizes what happened. He hangs his head and lets out a quiet “shit” before turning away, unable to look. 

He sticks around Skyhold, helping the Inquisition the best he can before he sees he’s overstayed his welcome, which is when he returns to Kirkwall. Every once in a while, he gets reminded of The Inquisitor’s death, and how… maybe if he had noticed faster, they would still be around.

Romanced, he notices much faster. Previously, he had made a joke that he was actually unable to take his eyes off of his lover, so watching them crumple in the middle of the battle really caught his attention. After a few bolts from Bianca, he rushes over to attempt to revive his lover. Once it registers that his invincible Inquisitor is dead, he’s struck with a terrible feeling of helplessness. He holds them tightly and gives a quick prayer to Andraste or the Creators, someone who could potentially save them. But as his friends gather around him, even Varric has to come to grips with reality.

He’s more introspective in the coming days, staying close to his lover’s body as if he’s waiting for them to spring up and claim some elaborate prank. But as their body burns or is covered by layers of dirt, he accepts that it’s over.

He’ll never really get over the person that helped him move on from Bianca, the person that made him feel like he was the best version of himself. And he’s okay with that. So he just does what’s needed. As with the friendship route, he’ll stick around for a little while, and then return to Kirkwall. But every day that passes, until death finally takes him, he’ll wish for the comfort of his lover, his Inquisitor, once more.

Vivienne: She watches The Inquisitor fall, and quickly rushes over to them. A ward here, a healing spell there, she attempts to revive her colleague, but when she checks for a pulse and feels nothing, she sees that her efforts were for nothing. 

Vivienne is a great help to Skyhold and whoever The Inquisitor’s lover is, even Sera finds Vivienne around to kindly help her through her grief. Vivienne also helps The Inquisition during its more vulnerable stage of healing after The Inquisitor’s death. Once she believed her work was done, she’d eventually return to the fancy courts of Orlais, but not without being prepared to defend the late Inquisitor if anyone dare disgrace their name.

[animezinglife]

"You can't be serious." "I can, and I am." "And that is the poem you chose?"

[greypetrel]

WIP Whenever

Of course the last one of the year comes late! Thank you @daggerbeanart for tagging me! :)

More Whaling/Whales AU (it needs a name ok), this time with two special guests, courtesy of @melisusthewee. Quinn and Horatio enter the scene, in style. Off to get those whales and make money and glory! (in two. On a rowboat. If you lots don't know how to fish it's not Quinn's fault.) (soundtrack) Aisling will dub him "The Arch-nemesis" because how dare he come near her pod with a gun? Not on her watch!

Adding this version of the science bros via Leyendecker study. Josephine will be added and Aisling's dress changed once I'll commit to a decade.

#Judging

Tagging: @shivunin @ndostairlyrium Mel you're tagged back if you read down here @brother-genitivi (too soon? Keep it for whenever!) @pinayelf @spainkitty @whimsyswastry and YOU!

[andrastes-flaming-arse]

🦁 Cœur de Lion 🦁

As Thedas is plunged into chaos, Aithne Trevelyan desperately seeks to escape the suffocating grip of her noble family and the haunting memories of the Ostwick Circle. Each day is a battle against the echoes of her past, as she longs for a life free from her painful upbringing. Cullen Rutherford, former Knight-Captain of the Kirkwall Circle, fights his own demons. The scars of lyrium addiction run deep, leaving him to grapple with the remnants of a life filled with despair; Cullen feels unworthy of love and redemption. Thrown together as the sky falls apart, both will have to learn to set aside their tempestuous pasts and confront the evils that threaten to engulf everything they hold dear. Through trials involving family, conflict and magic, will love bring them together or ultimately tear them apart?

🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁

A full Trevelyan/Cullen fic that I might extend to Veilguard, with the Inquisitor as the main character because fuck you Bioware. What was Veilguard. Look how you massacred my egg Solas. You took a perfectly good elven god and ruined him. He has anxiety and so do the rest of us after that shit.

[swordbisexual]

A Chest Of Pine And Iron: Chapter Four

[Fenella’s diary]

26 August 9:41

It took us no time at all to find Mother Giselle on the road to Redcliffe. I was right. All we had to do was follow the smell of smoke, which turned to the smell of blood and bodies. It’s a smell I’ve not known all my life, and suddenly, I can pick it out on an upwind draft without a second thought. There were Templars and mages alike who tried to stop us, driven mad by their fight with one another and turning on us without even stopping to ask whose side we were on.

I suppose we don’t know if they’d have listened. And I suppose we left our own trail of blood and bodies to be caught upwind, in the end.

There were many who needed us at the crossroads, and I expected them to clamor for my attention. I’d braced myself for it, already rehearsing the ways I could politely defer to my companions and the guard keeping close to heel behind us. What I wasn’t prepared for was the way everyone turned to look at me and the way they all, one by one, fell silent. Some lowered their eyes, some even dropped to their knees, and the ones who were already on their backs looked up to me with the last glitter of hope in their eyes and a beseeching hand, as if I were the answer to all their prayers. As if I were the second coming of Andraste herself.

All I could do was walk forward and let my eyes skip over each face, not taking in more than a flash of a detail from each one. All those faces became one face, blurring into my memory as a pair of wide eyes, a chapped set of lips open in prayer, flanked by hands covered in road dust and dried blood. The face of the lost. The face of the helpless. The face of a people looking to me like I might guide them.

Maker preserve me. 

Maker preserve them.

Thankfully, Mother Giselle was not so awestruck, and greeted me with a smile warmer than any I’ve seen on a Chantry sister or mother before. “You are the one they call Herald of Andraste,” she said, the lilt of Orlais in her words. She beckoned for me to follow her before I could answer.

I was grateful, for my part, to have someone speak to me like a person and not like something… else. “I am.” There was nothing else for me to say. I can’t deny what I’ve been called, and I can’t deny what I myself saw in the lingering vision of the Conclave that burned in the sky above the ruined Temple courtyard. I am called the Herald, and I must believe that it was Andraste who I saw, who helped me to survive. I must. “You sent for us?”

She took us on a winding walk through the refugees, stopping every once in a while to lay a cool hand to a hot brow and to send for aid. “I know you are branded heretic,” she said, after gently chastising one of the devout who feebly resisted her call for a mage to tend to his wounds. “The Chantry fears you, but it is all politics and grandstanding, as they sit in their gilded comfort and work to determine a new Divine.”

This wasn’t what I expected in the least. “You’re a Revered Mother,” I said, unsure of how else to respond. “You’re part of the Chantry, aren’t you?”

“I am called to serve,” she said. She stopped and turned to take my hands in hers. They were cool and dry, not rough exactly, but not smooth, either. Her hands were the hands of a woman who is not afraid to work, who has scrubbed the dirt out from beneath her fingernails after scrubbing away the dirt that life leaves on those who aren’t lucky enough to have high walls to protect them. She squeezed her fingers around mine, and I felt as if I were the one being blessed, not the other way around. “And this is where I am called to go.”

I looked over my shoulder to see Cassandra, Varric, and even Solas keeping a respectful distance, but watching with varying levels of interest: Cassandra in respect, Varric in curiosity, and Solas in that peculiarly detached sort of observation he has around all the rest of us. Beyond them, I could see someone tending a cookpot, another passing out blankets, and yet another wringing hands while waiting to speak to a harried-looking mage healer. I turned back to Mother Giselle. “How can we serve you?”

If her face was warm before, it was positively radiant at my question. “Many ways,” she said, “but first, you must speak to the Chantry in Val Royeaux. They speak of you as a demon in your own right, but if you go to them like this…” She nodded at me, standing before her, hands in hers, clad in dusty armor and likely with blood on my cheek from where I’d had to run my sword through an angry Templar before he could do the same to me. “They will see you for who you are.”

Should I have laughed so bitterly? Perhaps not. But it rose up from my throat before I could stop myself. “A girl too scared to do anything but lash out and fight back?”

Mother Giselle squeezed my hands a little harder. “So was Andraste, once.”

I would not let myself cry, no matter how hotly the tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. “That would be called heresy by some.”

She finally let go of my hands. “Then I am in good company.”

At her insistence, we have sent her to Haven ahead of us, as there are still some tasks for us to tend to here before we return. I hope that she can bring hope and warmth to the people there as she has here. I feel ill-equipped to fill her shoes down here in the wilds, but at the very least I can seek out ways to help and set things to rights, and fulfill the promise of the Inquisition’s protection that we’ve now given.

--

[A brief message, written in a graceful, flourishing hand.]

Our Lady Herald,

I have made connections where I can, at your directive, and our influence slowly grows. However, it would be in the Inquisition’s best interests if you could garner the material support of your family sooner rather than later. Enclosed is a letter from House Trevelyan, though my courier informed me it is not from the Bann or Lady, but from one of their sons. I do not wish to meddle in your personal affairs, but if your own brother has written you before you have sent word, we may need to sit and discuss the expectations of one in your unique position.

Best,

Josephine Montilyet

--

[A letter stamped with the seal of House Trevelyan of Ostwick.]

Fen,

So, Herald of Andraste, is it? I knew you always wanted to make a name for yourself, but you really went all out, didn’t you? Count this as another for your wins column. Maybe five times over, or a hundred.

All jests aside, I’m worried for you. There’s talk rumbling around court here already, and out in the city, too. Some think you’re a prophet, and some think you should be burned at the stake. Father and Mother are beside themselves, of course. Every night at dinner all I hear about is how to hold is in a right state and how we don’t have a single scrap of anything to present as evidence for your faith, save for a bit of embroidery you did when you were seven and the sword you’ve used in the training yard. But you’d better believe they’re ready to use it, if the Chantry comes calling.

They are proud of you, Fen. They really are. I think they might be a little too bound by tradition, is all, and no one ever taught them how to do things differently. It has to be love for you that keeps you in their hearts and on their lips, just as it’s love for me that keeps me in their hall and at their table no matter what I do. But you’ll always be their little girl, just like you’ll always be my little sister, come tugging at my sleeve and asking me to teach her how to be a Templar too.

I’ve tried to get them to go ahead and send a banner, but you haven’t sent word, and so they won’t even consider it. Damned tradition, and all that. I know you’re busy, but you won’t be too busy to write your brother, will you? If it makes it easier, you can send the letter to me, and I’ll just stick their names on the top and they’ll be none the wiser. I know it’s always been hard for you to find the words to get them to listen.

All my love,

Geordie

--

27 August 9:41

The only reason we haven’t packed up and headed back to Haven already is that I can feel the need to stay. It’s that itch in my palm again, the same pains that bothered me the first time I used the mark to close the rift above the Temple. There’s more rifts here - the Corporal here at the crossroads told me so, but I would’ve known even without him saying - and I can feel the itch down in my blood to close them.

Just to close them. Nothing more. There will be no visions of Andraste there, and no glimpses of a greater purpose. There are only demons, and only I can stop them, it seems.

Solas has done much to instruct me on how to attune myself to the feelings and impulses the mark gives me. He was the one who stabilized it, after all, and there’s a knowing in his gaze when he sees me scratching at my palm. “It pulls you out to find its like,” he said, when we set out in the general direction of the farm where we might find a horsemaster.

I flexed my hand until my knuckles popped. “I just hope it stops once the Breach is closed.”

Little ever disrupts Solas’ countenance, and the furrows are always small and subtle. “I do not think it will be simple.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

“So little is, between the Fade and here.” His eyes got that faraway look again, like he could hear whispers, and maybe he could. “I sense an artifact. Not far. It may make clear some secrets of the Veil.”

I cannot lie, Solas unsettles me. Not because he’s an elf, mind, though I’ll confess I haven’t exactly been brought up to be entirely comfortable at the sight of pointed ears. But there’s something else to him, and I have to continually remind myself that it was he who kept this mark from killing me, and likely he who will have to help me better learn to wield it. “If not on this expedition, then the next,” I said, and he seemed satisfied.

“Picking up extra work already?” Varric surprised me, coming up behind me just as Solas turned to go. When I turned to face him, he made a great show of looking over his crossbow, inspecting its odd mechanisms and adjusting the straps that held it to arms. “A Herald’s work is never done, eh?”

“Our first priority is the Breach, and what it will take to finally seal it,” Cassandra interjected, striding over to join us and glare the same daggers at Varric she always does. He must either like the venom in her looks or has grown so used to it that they glance off of him like a crossbow bolt to plate, because all he did was smirk, which made her lip curl even further up. “Do not get tangled up in whatever Varric spins for you,” she said to me, though the words were as much for him, too. “I do not trust him any farther than I could throw him, and he is frustratingly difficult to toss aside.”

“Like a rock in your shoe,” he said, unruffled as ever, which just made Cassandra turn on her heel in disgust.

I watched her go, then slid a look back over to Varric. “Can we all get along enough today to keep from dying?”

“That’s my preferred way to work, yes.” He waved a hand. “Don’t mind me. Your Seeker is probably right. Just… don’t tell her I said so.”

I went back to checking my armor, taking a moment to tighten the strap of the gauntlet over my left wrist. It’s a fine piece, made special by Haven’s blacksmith Harritt, who helped me to fashion an open-palmed glove as part of its design. My hand and wrist is as protected as it could be with the standard gauntlet strapped to my right, but the mark is left exposed, as great a weapon as the greatsword I carry. I held the end of the strap between my teeth and slid the buckle down to the next notch. “Your secret is safe with me,” I said as best I could around the leather, then let it drop and flexed my wrist. “Along with any other work you might have.”

He seemed surprised that I offered. “We can talk at Haven,” he said. “I need some time to work out if it’s more than a hunch.”

His surprise at my willingness to help stung. I don’t think I’ve already started coming off as lofty and self-important, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my life, the difference between how I think of myself and how people see me will always be great, two ideas forever at odds. “I want to help,” I said. “As much as I can.”

He shouldered his crossbow - Bianca, he’s said it’s called, and he talks to the thing like an ill-tempered lover, or perhaps like he would Cassandra, come to think of it - and looked me up and down. “You won’t be able to save everyone, you know.”

I pressed my lips together. “I owe it to everyone to try.”

Varric squinted at me, then smiled and shook his head. “Yeah. You would say that.”

--

[What follows in Fenella’s diary is a page full of scratched out lines and scribbles, as if she were practicing what to write before committing it to something that would bear the Inquisition’s seal.]

Bann and Lady Trevelyan

Mother and Father

To the Trevelyans of Ostwick

Damn it all

I write to you as your daughter and as Herald

As Herald of Andraste

On behalf of the Inquisition

Andraste’s urn, I need Josephine to do this for me

[A line is drawn across the page, bisecting it in half, and below that are rough ink sketches of faces in profile: Cassandra Pentaghast, Varric Tethras, and Solas the elven apostate, likely drawn from life while sitting in camp.]

--

30 August 9:41

I’ve been asleep for most of a day, according to Varric.

We found a rift, after half a day’s searching on foot, the mark pulling me along all the while. I felt the cold prickle of a wraith’s breath before I saw it, and even whirling around as fast as I could, my sword sliced through nothing but air as it sailed past me on an eldritch scream.

I wish I could put into words how it feels to be near the rifts. Or do I? Would I like to be able to express the fear I feel, and the way that this brush between the waking world and the Fade makes my guts churn and very bones seem to shiver as whispers grow louder in my mind, asking me to come, and to lie down, and to let the raw magic of the mark spread throughout my whole body and subsume me into the Fade’s very dark matter? I shiver again just to write those words, which means it must express quite enough.

Without the rest of my companions, I might have died. I know what it’s like to fight a living, breathing body, and have even gotten frighteningly proficient at running my sword through them after years of only bashing bruises with a dull practice blade. But the wraiths and demons that emerge from these rifts chill me down to my soul, and all finesse I might have on the field suddenly feels so clumsy and inefficient in the face of such horror. I must credit Solas with knowing the right magic to ward them off from a distance, and Varric’s aim with Bianca, and Cassandra at my side as more of a fortifying presence than any prayers or Chant have provided me. It was she who held me up, I think, as I went weak in the knees as the last demon finally faded and I was able to brandish my palm and focus the last shreds of my strength into closing the rift.

I’ll need to do better. I’ll need to be stronger. If I’m to nearly faint - or outright faint, given how long I’ve been sleeping - at every single rift I’ve been tasked to close, then I might as well lie down and let the Fade take me right now.

The night air is heavy with the lingering heat of late summer. It’ll be Kingsway tomorrow. It’s a time of warmth, with the harvests still ripening, but sealing that rift has left me shivering. I bundled up in a blanket at first, until I remembered the coat folded in the bottom of my pack. I’d hoped to wear it for the first time back at Haven, to go see the Commander in the training yard, but that was a silly notion, a flight of fancy that I’d do best not to linger on. Besides, I think he would be pleased to know that it’s had some practical use out here in the end, and so I shrugged it on.

It’s the lining of it that instantly made me feel warm, of course. I certainly didn’t think of the note Commander Rutherford pinned to the collar, and the fact that his hands must have folded the garment in order to tuck it safely away in the shipment. It’s an odd thing to even think of at all, much less picture in my mind’s eye with such vivid clarity that it makes my heart thump and a tingling warmth bloom outward from my chest and down into my belly.

Absurd. Utterly absurd. I really ought to put it from my mind, lest I let it consume and distract me from the more pressing duties at hand.

Suitably dressed against my own inner chill, I did venture out from my tent in order to join Varric by the fire again. Solas sat with him, and Cassandra some careful distance away, though the minute I sat down next to Varric I saw her stand up to move closer, inching toward my other side as if she might need to swoop in and protect me from whatever words Varric might wield.

I was going to tell her that she needn’t concern herself so when Varric tilted his head to give me one of his looks. “Nice coat.”

I pulled it tighter around myself. “Thank you. The Commander did well to send it.”

“Ah, that would be Curly’s handiwork.” He gestured at the ironbound grip of his crossbow. “Even Bianca got a nice little facelift sent along.”

I do not know why I felt a sting of disappointment. Naturally, everyone would have received something to help in our efforts in the field. I don’t know why I had some foolish, girlish notion that I’d perhaps been given something special. Yanking that feeling up by the root really will serve me well, just so I can avoid more of these little pitfalls before they become too large to bear.

I took a deep breath and searched for another topic of convrsation, but came up short. “You call the Commander ‘Curly?’”

Varric grinned. “To his face, even.”

Cassandra made a tch of disgust. “Such little respect for authority.”

“Untrue,” he retorted. “I call you ‘Seeker.’”

I was myself still preoccupied with Varric’s nickname for Commander Rutherford. “His hair does have the beginnings of a lovely curl to it, if he’d let it grow a bit more,” I mused.

This was enough to silence Varric and Cassandra’s bickering, and they both turned to look at me. Varric spoke first, and the way his eyes positively lit up was so much like my brothers’ that I felt both a pang of homesickness and the shifting trepidation of knowing I was about to be in for the teasing of my life. “Lovely, is it?”

I felt my face burn. “Objectively,” I said to the fire, wondering if perhaps I could throw myself into it, for a distraction from this conversation if nothing else. “I’m speaking purely objectively, as a person with eyes and a sense of aesthetics and form.”

“Ah, yes. The artist with her sketchbook.” Varric nudged my knee with his. “Plan on rendering Curly’s hair anytime soon?”

“I never will now,” I mumbled.

Thankfully, he was content to leave it at that. “So,” he said, turning to Solas. “What’s this about an artifact?”

We passed the rest of the evening peacefully, after that, or as much as we could with Cassandra continually reminding us of our duty to the Inquisition. I do think that between Solas and I we managed to convince her that this could be of some aid to us, and we made plans to search for these artifacts of the Veil should we grow close enough to them tomorrow, once the matter of horses has been tended to. We may not return to Haven for some time yet, which is all well and good for me. I should not be so eager to go back, no matter how much I would like to see Comm my council for their advice.

--

[A message bearing the Inquisition’s seal.]

Herald,

Your presence may be required in Haven soon, along with that of Seeker Pentaghast. The Revered Mother’s arrival has caused more of a stir than any of us could have predicted, and Chancellor Roderick has become more demanding than usual. There is also the matter of Val Royeaux to discuss, and I should like to see to arranging the guard for your transport to Orlais.

Commander Rutherford