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stardustandash · 3 months

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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!)

#dragon age inquisition #dai #da:i #fanfic #fanfiction #febuwhump #cassandra pentaghast #female inquisitor #f!inquisitor #lavellan

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samsdaimods · 2 years

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QF Royal PJs - Skyhold Outfit Retexture by Baudelairienne

Skyhold outfit rextexture for female Qunari.

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natsora · 1 year

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Hart

“Maker give me strength,” Cassandra hissed as she spurred her horse to go faster. Hot on the tail of Trev, she did her best to catch up, but the Inquisitor looked intent on getting herself killed. “Trev! Slow down!”

“But—” Trev jerked her head, looking as the hart she was chasing neared. “I’m going to jump.”

“What?” Before she could grab the back of Trev’s flapping cloak, the Inquisitor leapt. “Why?” she hissed through clenched teeth. “Why does the Maker test me so?”

With two hands, Trev held onto the hart’s antlers and yanked. Predictably, the hart cried out and tried to buck her off. But it also slowed down. That gave Cassandra a chance to pull up alongside.

“Trev! What are you trying to do?”

Trev hung on by gripping the hart’s flanks with her thighs. “Get the hart to stop. We have to get the arrow out.”

“Arrow?”

“Yes!” That single word got dragged out as the hart tossed Trev violently about. “Help me!” Cassandra couldn’t see how and drew her blade. Trev’s eyes widened. “Not like that!”

Cassandra rolled her eyes, but instead of slashing at the hart, she secured a rope around her pommel. With one swift throw, the sword pierced the tree she aimed for. The rope stretched across the trail. The hart, alarmed by the foreign object, skidded to a halt.

Trev panted heavily as she stroked the hart’s neck. “We’re here to help. Just relax.”

Cassandra dismounted and made a makeshift leash, looping it around its neck. Trev took the chance to twist around on the hart’s back. The arrow protruded from its flank. A trail of blood stained its tawny coat. Carefully, Trev extracted the arrow. The hart moaned but kept still. It now understood they were trying to help.

Arrow extracted, the hart licked the healing potion off Trev’s hand and bolted for the safety of the forest. Trev stretched and winced. “My poor butt…”

Cassandra grunted. “And whose fault is that?”

“I was trying to help!” The Inquisitor protested.

Cassandra expressed no sympathy and went to retrieve her sword. But she couldn’t help the smile that twitched at the corners of her mouth. No doubt the Inquisitor was young and reckless, but she had her heart in the right place.

@14daysdalovers

#Hart #14daysdalovers #Cassandra pentaghast #Cassandra Pentaghast x female Inquisitor #Cassandra Pentaghast/Female inquisitor #F!Inquisitor #F!Trevelyan #Dragon age #OC: Lexington Trevelyan

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herald-divine-hell · 1 year

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teaching you how to do something + close proximity for leliana/inquisitor? xoxo

Thank you for the ask!

The arrow caught itself into the motor of the stone walls, shuddering for a single breath or two. The wind had whistled when it took flight, true and straight, but when the arrowpoint slammed into the stone, the air punched out of it like a strangled sigh. Another sigh came from Leliana's side, and she gave the dark-haired woman a smile. "You hit something this time, at least."

Frustration darkened Alexandra's eyes, the pale silver taking a faint golden hue from the reddish-bronze sunlight peaking over the mountains. Skyhold was a flush with soft pinks, deep reds, and hammered bronzes, the air aglow like flame. The gray stone, drained sick and tired, took a fine paler color, blushing from the lightly stroking fingers of dawn. A golden mantle swaddled the green leaves and brown boughs, gleaming with the light shinning in gems, and the trickles that dripped from between left soft golden patches upon the green grass and rock-strewn paths.

And the dawnlight did wonders up Alexandra, truthfully. A faint shroud of pale white ran down her thick dark curls like moonlight running along night-darkened lake, shimmering. Her pale cheeks, with its high-cheekbones, was painted lightly with a flush, either from the cold or frustration, Leliana could not be for sure. But the redness was pretty to her. It allowed Leliana to count all the fine freckles hidden in the paleness, like flowers lost in the snow. Her nose crinkled upward, her full lips drew down pouting, and the urge to laugh and kiss her nearly overwhelmed Leliana. She distracted herself by walking toward the locked-in arrow, drew it out with a little strength, and checked for any chippings, ignoring the teasing thoughts twirling in her mind.

Alexandra spoke, her annoyance not hidden. "A target that is over twenty feet tall and dozen or more feet wide. Truly, I shall be recalled in legends for besting the terrible stone demon known as the curtain wall." Her fingers gripped tight the bow, her already white hands growing whiter. "I never had such difficulty for other things, before." She shook her head, the strands cradling her face bouncing a little. "I don't see why I am not allowed to use my magic to help guide the arrow."

With the arrow in hand, Leliana rested her knuckles against her hips. The urge to smile was terribly hard when Alexandra was so cutely frustrated. So rare it was to see the collected, savvy, and murmured arrogant, Inquisitor all aflush and pouting like some child. Her bouncing thoughts seemingly fled her when the arrow left her hands, Leliana thought, amused.

"Because the entire point of this is to be assured you are well capable of fending enemies off when your magicks are low or depleted, and there is not enough lyrium for you to drink to get out to safety."

Alexandra's gaze shot up, and the great storm often unyielding in her eyes took shape once more. "I already mastered well enough the dagger and the sword and the shield - surely this is unnecessary." She paused for a moment, eyes widened a little. "But that does not mean I do not enjoy spending time with you, of course." Her lips curled into that teasing, insufferably arousing half-smile. "Though, I can think of other ways we can practice different techniques and abilities."

A flush stirred at Leliana's cheeks, peeking like the first leaves in spring. She grappled and tousled with it until she knew it was little more seen that the natural flush on her cheeks. "While the thought is tempting." And truly, it was. Leliana had found herself half distracted by Alexandra's outfit - snug black breeches that did not hide the strength of powerful and supply thighs, tied neatly with a belt to reveal flaring hips, and a loose white blouse where if Alexandra bent over at just the right angle, hints of pale and soft flesh was revealed. Indeed, she felt terribly wrong for eyeing Alexandra whenever she was not looking, but she could not help herself. Often the arousal would dwindle away to admiration, one of breathless and star-dazzled. Everything Alexandra did came easy and elegant, even in her failings. She flowed like a shadow running across a field, without any stiffness or rigidness to be seen, with easy practicality and assurance that bordered on arrogance. But that arrogance faded away with Leliana, it seemed. A glint of something more was seen through the mask of the Inquisitor - something real and shy and overwhelming and beautiful that Leliana wanted to jump into, damn the consquences. But such thoughts often lead to blindness...and Leliana could not be blind, not now. Not after Haven, not after Justinia.

But Maker, do I sometimes wish I could be - for this woman I barely know but who entraps me so. A coal of frustration smoked through her limbs, smoldered a little. "We still must be assured that you are safe, regardless. After all, who was the one who ran straight into a dual dragon fight without any regards?"

The flush returned, brightly crimson. Alexandra looked away, fingers strumming the bowstring, but her smile did not leave her face. It seemed to have grown. "Bull had dared me."

Leliana shook her head. "Yes, I know." You and your dares and your foolish pride. Leliana took a few steps, slid the arrow back into the quiver drummed up-right into the ground. As she did so, Alexandra brushed her leather-gloved fingers across Alexandra's arms. "We will not have that happen again, correct?"

In the corner of her eyes, Leliana took in the pleasure of Alexandra's face growing captured into ruddiness, flowing down her throat. "I will be sure it won't," she promised, muttering.

"Good." Leliana dusted her hands with a few swipes against the other. "Now, your arm was too stiff this time, and you allowed your strength to come from your arm, not your back."

The smile of before, the one teasing and gleeful, returned. "It is not my fault that I use my hands and arms more."

"And yet, your masterful fingers and arms will avail you nothing in the end if your arrow is anything but a great solid target made of stone." Leliana moved forward until she was nearly pressed against Alexandra's back. "Grasped your arrow."

Alexandra did, and Leliana took her by the underneath of her arm, rested the other flat against Alexandra's stomach. She tried not to think of the sweet vanilla wafting from her dark curls. It would be so easy to lay a kiss to her neck, if I wanted. Here the Inquisitor was, trapped in Leliana's arms, such a lovely reward if there was any. She could brush the thick curls to one shoulder, reveal the pale secrets to her eyes and her eyes alone. She would be able to feel Alexandra's pulse quicken, the heat of embrassment and arousal burning Leliana's lips as teeth dug deep into skin, marking her for all to see.

She pushed those thoughts away. Now is not the time, she thought. With the softest pressure to her stomach, Leliana pressed Alexandra straight, and she softly cursed the fact that the woman was taller even with her boots on. Rising on her tip-toes, Leliana glanced and guided Alexandra's aim until it was true on the target. The hand on the stomach slid along, around her waist, pressed gently across her back with ghosty strokes. Leliana rested her chin on Alexandra's shoulders, turned a little, and whispered softly in her ear. "Aim, aim. Relax your arm, let your strength come from your back." Leliana felt Alexandra do so, the muscles beneath her fingers shifting and bundling as she drew her arm back, her fingers close to her face."

She adjusted her aim again, praising her all the while. "Now, l loosen your fingers, and let it fly."

The air sang with the easiness in which the arrow to flight. Winds whistling, the arrow struck true, and pride flickered through Leliana's stomach." She laughed gently, wrapped her arms around Alexandra's waist, and laid a kiss to her cheek. Heat burned her lips from the blush. "Good girl. You did amazing."

"Leliana?"

"Yes, ma cheri?"

"Bedroom, now."

#thank you for the ask!#This isn't my best but my brain has been fried from school #hope you enjoyed it tho!#heroofpenamstan #inquisitor x leliana #leliana x inquisitor #alexandra x leliana #leliana x alexandra #alexandra trevelyan #leliana #dragon age leliana #female trevelyan #f!trevelyan #f!inquisitor #dragon age fanfiction #my writing

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sleepyangorarabbit · 4 months

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Before I lost my old blog, I had a prompt from my dear friend @herald-divine-hell. Luckily I had started it in a document so I didn’t lose it completely but the prompt itself might be off a bit because I couldn’t remember it verbatim. Battle sequences aren’t my forte but I think this turned out okay. Thank you for the prompt dearest! (You can find it on my AO3 as well)

Maxiana took in a couple heavy breaths, her weight supported by palms flattened into the dirt. Her staff was easily within reach but she knew that Cullen would be watching her closely, calculating her next move before she makes it. Though she didn’t need it for her magic, she would need it to deflect his blade, which would undoubtedly be swung as soon as she charged.

She closed her eyes, pulling in one deep breath while she made her choice. Her fingers dug into the dirt, feeling the electricity that flowed through the earth connecting to her magic. She smirked slightly, worried that he might see it if she let it go to wide.

Periwinkle purple lightning bolts, small yet fierce started to radiate across the ground, flowing from her going towards him. The momentary shock is all she needs to grab her staff and stand, ready to take whatever force he would bring against her.

She continued to breathe deeply, forcing a calm control over herself so the bolts wouldn’t be visible to him until it was too late.

“Are we done for the day then?” Cullen said, with a smirk evident in his voice. She remained still, giving him no indication of surrender. “Ana?”

She could feel the electricity of her magic was about to reach him, the current wanting to connect from the ground to his armored feet. She looked to her right without moving her head, calculating exactly when the electricity would hit him and the seconds it would take her to be in a defensive stance.

Cullen cried out as the lightning started crawling up his leg and she knew he’d recover quickly once she let go but she just needed enough time to deflect him. She was sure he’d be more than ready to charge at her after this move and physically he was much stronger than her. The lightning was up to his knees now, his cries slowly being contained, likely to prevent her from the getting the satisfaction of having bested him.

A strong inhale of air filled her legs and as she exhaled she let go, grabbing her staff and charging on him but he was ready by the time she reached him and the metal of her staff clanked on his shield loud enough to fill the training grounds. He was pushing back, not with all his strength she could tell, but she wasn’t backing down this time.

There was a crowd of people gathered around the ring they practiced in. Varric was taking bets. He didn’t even try to hide it anymore like he used to and Cassandra didn’t even look that bothered by it. Bull and the chargers were there and she wasn’t sure if he cared who won as the loud boom of his laughter rang out when either of them got knocked down. Dorian was with them, adding commentary perfectly paired with Bulls. Jadzia and Sera were up on the roof watching from above behind them.

“It’s ok to break you know? I won’t think anything less of you.” She teased him. They had been sparring for hours at this point. He’d insisted with the upcoming battle they would undoubtedly face when they reached the Arbor Wilds. They had no way of knowing what they would truly face and Cullen’s worry for her was evident in everything they did.

“I. Won’t. Break.” He responded, pushing with one big thrust of his shield, enough to push her back but she kept her footing enough to recover quickly. In one smooth motion, she placed her staff along her back, pulled out the hilts that served her magical daggers.

“If you say so,” she taunted, bring the electricity alive into daggers with bolts dancing along its sharp edges before charging toward him.

#my works #my writing #prompts #ask #herald divine hell #Mariana/cullen #Maxiana Trevelyan #Cullen Rutherford #Dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fan fiction #fanfiction #f!trevelyan #f!inquisitor #my ocs

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