#trevelyan x cullen

[animezinglife]

I can’t stop thinking about how Cullen's nephew probably already idolizes him and is completely starstruck when he realizes his uncle's wife is the Inquisitor. He's not entirely sure what that means, but he's heard of her, knows she's a leader like his uncle, and knows it's a big deal.

How wide his eyes probably get when he connects the dots on the fact that also means the Inquisitor is now his aunt.

And they have a dog?!

[missgamerin]

[feykrorovaan]

Cullen holding his and Trevelyan's first born looking at them adoringly: "You're asleep in front of the Commander of the Inquisition...terrible lack of respect."

Trevelyan: "A certain insolence runs in the family, I'm afraid."

[herald-divine-hell]

Honestly, Ashania Trevelyan would be absolutely terrifying to flirt with. Calm, cool, collected, with that glint of subtle superiority only born when one is raised to by a Lady of Vasenarg.

But all that collapses when a pretty lady flirts with her. At least with men, she understands her sexuality well enough to be able to match their wit (or at times, their lack thereof.) But poor girl never has thought about being attracted to women that goes into panic mood when flirted by them, lol. I think it's a fun dynamic. She can tease Cullen, but pretty girls can get revenge for him, lmao.

[debgall]

ref : https://pin.it/6nfpslo

[nirikeehan]

Happy Friday!! For DADWC "We made our choices" for the ever-enticing Nightmare!AU? Maybe for Thalia/Blackwall or Thalia & Solas?

HI GIN lmfao so this has been my oldest prompt for like awhile and I am finally filling it about a year and a half later haha omg. But thank you for it I have literally been thinking about it this entire time.

Solas is Ser Not Appearing in This Film, but Blackwall! He's around. Here's an emotionally charged convo between Thalia and Blackwall that's going in my next chapter, set after Thalia realizes he was listening to her bang Cullen in a tent. (Why am I like this?)

For @dadrunkwriting

WC: 2209

---

Some time later, Thalia returned to her tent, a bitter aftertaste lingering in her mouth. She felt a bit off-kilter, but relieved. Blackwall sat where she’d left him, his whetstone sliding along the edge of his blade in long, slow strokes. His eyes were on the fire. 

Irritation stirred in Thalia’s chest. “That must be the sharpest sword known to man by now.” 

His eyes snapped to her; his hand paused. Thalia felt a strange pang to behold him like this. Terrible memories churned in her mind: Blackwall’s sudden disappearance, his impassioned speech on the gallows in Val Royeaux, the way he’d looked at her through the bars of his cell. This is why I told you we couldn’t be together, he said, with perfect loathing, while her heart rent in two.

Thalia stood before him now, wringing the sash on her robe, waiting for him to speak. She should march past him and settle back into Cullen’s tent, because it was none of Blackwall’s damn business. But the sight of him before her was so much like seeing a ghost that she couldn’t quite manage it. 

“Did you get what you needed?”

She nodded, unable to meet his eyes. The pockets of her robe were heavy with additional potions, but only one stuck in her mind now. 

She chewed her lip and, with a huff, sat on a log opposite him around the fire pit. She arranged herself as stately as she could: back straight, knees together, hands folded in her lap. She forced herself to look at Blackwall and not flinch. “There’s something I’d like to discuss, while we’re both awake.” 

Blackwall slowly sheathed the sword and put aside the scabbard. “I’m listening.” 

Thalia took a breath, held it, thinking over what Lautilde had told her. “I think I might have a way to stop the spread of red lyrium corruption.” 

His eyebrows shot upward. That wasn’t what he expected me to say, Thalia thought with some satisfaction. 

“How?” Blackwall asked. 

Thalia pulled out the philter and held it up for him to see. The bottle was oozing black, threaded through with the darkest violet in the firelight. “Vivienne was experimenting alchemically. Before I left her village, I… took the liberty of procuring a sample.” 

Blackwall stared impassively at the bottle, then back to Thalia. “Does it work?” 

Thalia swallowed. “She told me she and the townsfolk had success with the prototypes. I drank some as well. I don’t think she had a reason to lie.” About this, at least. 

Blackwall remained in stone-faced silence, considering this. “May I see?” 

Thalia stood and moved closer, holding out the bottle. When Blackwall reached for it, his fingers brushed hers, giving her a jolt. She swallowed hard, remembering the night he’d appeared in her quarters unannounced. Grabbing her. Kissing her. I had to see you. 

That had been her first kiss. 

Thalia snatched her hand away, sat back down and examined her fingernails. She’d tried hard to scrub the dirt out from under them while in the bath.

Blackwall inspected the potion with the same level of scrutiny he used when analyzing a battlefield. “I don’t suppose Vivienne is still able to make more of the stuff.”

“I… doubt it. Considering the state of things when we escaped.” Thalia had been trying not to think of whether Vivienne had lived or died, fighting the Red Templars. “I looked for a formula in her notes, but you know her. She always kept things close to the chest.” Thalia licked her lips and continued, “I spoke to Lautilde about it. She thinks it might be possible to reverse engineer the components, given a proper laboratory.” 

Blackwall snorted. “And where’s one of those?” 

“Larger keeps sometimes have them. Or a city.” 

“The closest city is Halamshiral.” His voice carried a note of disgust. 

Images flashed through her mind: the Winter Palace, in all its splendor. Flitting from one opulent room to the next, trying to unravel the series of clues regarding the attempt on Empress Celene’s life. Court intrigue at its finest: she remembered visiting Dorian out in the courtyard, the cool night breeze hitting their faces as the minstrel played on. Vivienne in the foyer, subtly mocking Thalia’s clumsy attempts at the Game. And rounding the corner to see Blackwall, in his formal finery, coldly shutting down a courtier who thought him familiar. Thalia had walked right by the man who stared Blackwall in the face and wondered about the beard. 

And I suspected nothing, she thought, feeling a little sick. Or maybe that was just the effects of the tea taking hold.

Cullen had been there too, of course. Handsome, concerned Cullen, still only a friend, though one who looked half a heartbeat away from tucking a stray hair from her face. Who spent the evening surrounded by lustful suitors of all genders, setting off her envy. Had that really only been months ago? It felt like a lifetime.  

“Is it safe?” Thalia asked now, with the eternal dark clouds swirling overhead. “I imagine Halamshiral is much changed from our last visit.” 

Blackwall grunted. “Nowhere is safe. You don’t know the half of it.” 

“Vivienne told me some things. That Empress Celene is dead and someone named Calpernia rules in her stead.”  Thalia combed her fingers together over one knee. “Is that true?”

“As far as I know. According to the Red Jennies, every major city in Orlais is in the hands of Corypheus’s forces. Venatori and Red Templars alike.” Blackwall slowly tilted the bottle this way and that, watching the thick liquid move around inside. “Calpernia is supposedly the most favored of all his generals. That’s why he granted her the Orlesian crown.” 

Thalia’s eyebrows shot upward. Would Samson agree? “Is she using Halamshiral as her seat of power?” 

Blackwall shook his head. “Val Royeaux.” 

Thalia let out a breath of relief. “Thank the Maker for small favors.” Security would be laxer there and in the surrounding areas. Perhaps infiltrating Halamshiral this purpose would be more plausible than it seemed. 

“If you could learn the components, what would you do with it?” 

“Replicate it, if I can.” Thalia smiled tightly. “Then at least maybe we’d have a fighting chance against Samson and his Red Templars.” 

Blackwall sighed, getting to his feet. He crossed the space between them and stood towering above her. He held out the bottle for her to take back. 

Thalia did not like sitting there, in his looming shadow. She shivered and popped to her feet, pulling the robe right across her chest, where Cullen had lain his head not even an hour ago. She took the philter and put it back in her pocket, unable to look him in the eye.

“What about the Commander?” Blackwall’s voice was low and gravely in her ear, almost an accusation.

She forced herself to turn her face toward his. She could just barely make out the chiseled lines of his face, the crooked nose, the long, immaculately groomed beard. Only his eyes shone in the dim light, that intense, unyielding grey. “What about him?” 

“You’d have to be blind not to see he’s been through the wringer. Seems you and he left out quite a bit at dinner.”

Thalia shut her eyes. Their account of past events had been truncated at best, outright deceptive at worst. But it had been evident Cullen didn’t trust Blackwall nor the entire gang of Red Jennies, and Thalia, improvising, had been careful to keep the details sparse. At least until they were rested enough to regain keener judgment. “It’s a long story. We’d planned to tell it tomorrow, at the war council meeting.” 

“Well, if you want to commandeer my men for a suicide mission in order to further your science experiment, I think I have a right to know now.” 

Anger boiled in her chest. “What makes you think you have a right to know anything? Sitting outside our tent, just — listening in, apparently—” 

“Wouldn’t’ve wasted two on you, if I’d known,” Blackwall shot back. 

“I can’t believe you’re admitting it,” Thalia said, horrified. 

Blackwall sneered. “Oh, you think I haven’t heard worse, my lady?” 

Thalia put her face in her hands. Don’t you dare cry; it will give him too much satisfaction. It was embarrassing enough to consider him a voyeur, but her argument with Cullen hung fresh in her mind. Could he have heard all of that as well? She wrapped her arms around her torso and shivered.

“Should’ve just told me,” Blackwall grumbled, moving back to his seat across from the fire.

“Was it ever any of your business?” Thalia asked. “After you pushed me away?”

Blackwall froze. She watched his broad shoulders tense, his gaze stray toward the smoldering fire. The embers burned down low. “We both made our choices. The Commander’s office was always in full view of the stables.” 

And she’d visited him first, before climbing the stone stairs to knock on Cullen’s office door. Even when all he had to offer her was silence, arms crossed, expression like marble. Thalia’s shoulders slumped. She sat down on the log, rubbing her forehead, too fatigued to continue whatever this absurd conversation was. Blackwall stood unmoving, staring into the flames. 

“I love him,” Thalia said, voice breaking. “And I thought I lost him. Twice now. It’s a miracle he’s still alive.” 

Blackwall said nothing. 

“I got that potion for him, but he doesn’t want to take it. Not if learning more about it can save lives.” She wasn’t sure why she was saying this, but the anguish that accompanied the words surprised her. “I’m so scared, Blackwall. Everyone says Templars exposed to the red lyrium will fall victim to it sooner than later. You want to know what happened to him? Samson happened. When we were in Skyhold, Samson wanted to break him. Left the red lyrium outside his cell, just out of reach. When I found him he was half-mad and covered in bruises. The things he did to try to reach the red lyrium… and then, in Vivienne’s village, they were so terrified of the stuff. They called the corruption the rot. Vivienne locked him in a cell for a week to see if he’d — change. And when he didn’t, she still decided it was a wise political move to hand him over to her subjects, to sacrifice to some imagined god, just for what he represented.” 

Thalia was panting by now, feeling shaky and nauseous. Blackwall turned slowly, watching her with his unknowable eyes. “So yes, I’d like to make that potion available to everyone I can. But I also want to make sure he’s safe from that terrible fate. I don’t know what Samson is capable of, but I know he won’t rest until he gets what he wants. And that can’t happen with Cullen in the way.” 

Blackwall’s brows furrowed, ever so slightly. “And what he wants is you.” 

Thalia swallowed and nodded. Tears pricking her eyes, she whispered, “Blackwall, I’ve made the worst mistake.” 

He stared, and she worried he would scowl or sneer or make a snide comment. But he simply moved to her side and sat, at a respectable enough distance. He leaned his forearms on his thighs and said, “Can’t be worse than the ones I’ve made.” 

Her heart leapt into her throat. She used to think, all too often, of a carriage trundling along a tree-lined road in rural Orlais, and the shadows in which a younger, clean-shaven Thom Rainier had skulked with his soldiers. But the months had blurred his sins into the background, almost unrecognizable. 

She was telling him, quite suddenly, of Samson, of the cat and mouse game that he was determined to play. Every detail she feared speak to Cullen poured from her mouth, from Samson’s look of fear on the balcony to the way he watched her in the clearing, with something akin to longing. And the cave, and the dress, and the blade she’d held to his neck, feeling the way he trembled beneath her. 

“And I couldn’t do it,” she lamented, wiping tears from her eyes. “He wanted me to. He wanted to die right there. All I’d had to do was stop resisting, and he would have shoved the dagger in his own throat.” 

She’d wrested the blade away instead, and scrambled off him, and run. Half expecting him to tackle her again, knock her unconscious, do who knew what. 

But he hadn’t. He hadn’t. 

“I don’t know what it means,” Thalia said helplessly. 

Blackwall was silent for a long time. When he spoke again, it was with a low, zealous fury. “It means we know the bastard’s weakness. And when he comes for you again — and he will, men like that can’t stop themselves — he will be that much easier to kill.” 

Thalia looked at him in alarm. “I just said that was something I wasn’t able to do.” 

 “With all due respect, my lady, you’ve got a kind heart filled with compassion.” Blackwall lifted his head to her, and she thought there might be the ghost of a smile hiding under his beard. “You ought to leave the killing to those of us most suited for it.” 

[calico-callista]

Another older artwork from my mage Trevelyan playthrough of my second world state.

It started as a sketch how did it end up like this-

[hinterlost]

Champions of the Just.

from top to bottom;

Ivhana: (softly) Cullen?

Envy: (incredulously) What can you give me?

Envy: (shedding it's mask of Leliana and now speaking with a deep gravely voice like several people speaking at once) EVERYTHING

OK so I never usually do champions of the just but I started a new playthrough as a Trevelyan mage inquisitor and ohhohohooo this has some dialogue/gameplay that just is the *chefs kiss* for a cool angsty story.

For this panel my Inky "Ivhana (Iva) Trevelyan" is trapped in her own mind by the Envy demon. She's not entirely sure what is happening yet and doesn't know whether or not the hallucinations made by the demon are real or not. She's developed a strong friendship (cough cough crush cough) with Cullen at this point so not being sure whether the scene is real or not really got to Iva. She spends pretty much most of the demons attack just being terrified that she has already been possessed and she is watching some sick hallucination of the demon killing off/ torturing her friends from inside her own mind.

Iva is a little different from my other inkies cause I wanted to use her to explore other in game choices/personalities that I don't really use in my more serious playthroughs.

She's a circle mage that actually believes in the circles/ that templars are necessary. I coin this opinion based on her more comfortable upbringing as a noble as well as having the luxury of a more relaxed circle with outside visits and socializing more common. She also had a bad experience with her harrowing where she was trapped within the fade for much longer than an apprentice should have been being subjected to the torture of a terror demon. Rather than being killed by the Templars, which is more common for apprentices who take too long during their harrowing, they continued to stand guard around her (wahoo; likely due to fear of the wrath of her parents if she were killed for any other reason beyond being possessed by a demon).

Obviously she came out of her harrowing alive and very much not possessed but due to the horrors she was subjected to she solidified her opinion that the circles and templar order are an absolute necessity. (I feel the need to state that this is not my own opinion it's just creative exploration. I don't believe that the circles and templars as they are in game are the "good" option and personally believe that they should be abolished and replaced with actual schools for mages that are optional rather than forced requirements. I just think it's a cool vein of thinking to explore for a mage. Ya know, Stockholm syndrome)

Also because of her harrowing, plus now COTJ, she experiences anxiety about becoming possessed herself and slaying all of her friends. She constantly tormented by night terrors about COTJ long after the event among various other dreams about becoming possessed or watching everything she built crumble to the ground because of demons. (angst! how fun!)

[aveny-art]

i love them so much <3 lady Inquisitor and Cullen

[effelants]

ok the most important thing in a cullen romance reference was, in fact, that there's puppies, and bioware delivered

i am content

[llysaan]

Second one done! A Pride and Prejudice inspired Cullen x Inquisitor piece 💕💕

Aaaa I had so much fun with this one!! I hadn’t drawn Cullen in so long! I’m definitely going to draw more of him especially with the da revival going on

Thank you to @ lilac.swallow on instagram for your support! I loved drawing Cullen with your Trevelyan ❤️

[animezinglife]

I am once again in a cozy/domestic Cullen x Inquisitor mood, as in:

A cozy, quiet house in Ferelden with the fireplace crackling

Playing chess together under a shade tree that bursts into color during fall

Playing chess together inside while the fire's going and the weather's too cold/bad to go anywhere

Just hanging out and reading

Their giant puppy snoring peacefully while sprawled out beside them on the sofa

The Inquisitor falling in love with him all over again watching him play with his nephew or showing him some new sword fighting technique (using a stick of course for safety reasons)

The two of them just being there for each other and knowing exactly how to handle it when a bad night resurfaces

The Inquisitor being thoroughly adopted by his sisters in particular (though Branson loves her, too) and the three women teasing him good-naturedly

Mia doing their world's/time's equivalent of breaking out the baby pictures and sharing all the best stories about her little brother

The Inquisitor and Cullen continuing to do good on their own terms for a change and eventually learning how to slow down/rest together

[missgamerin]

[schwarznummer1]

take her hand!

[minthara]

😑🙄❤️

[star--nymph]

Brianna answered my question about Cullen's original proposal plans!!

Cullen peeps come get your food!!