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platoniccereal · 1 year

Note

Firstly if you find that Adoribull fic I hope you share and second if you have any fic recs for Bull in general I want to know 👀

Also autocorrect nearly made his name Bill. The Iron Bill, a legal juggernaut. Don't call him William.

...he's pretty well versed in fiscal affairs.

i'm going to rummage through ao3 as a treat so maybe i'll be lucky haha i'll send it to you if that's ok and if i find anything.👀

i started reading fics on ao3 not so long ago, so my collection is humble and classic, still...

these are purely gen/plot and character focused with rare nsfw scenes:

small secret spaces – i adore this absolute gut punch of a fic, it's about 2k words and is written from bull's tama perspective. absolutely heartbreaking as anything regarding bull's time on seheron.

there's also i can see us gather at the gates from the same author, a 36k words work in progress, bull x f!trevelyan. it studies them both in opposition to each other, this one got me thinking and feeling for days.

there's also a very short the sea is unchanged in the same series, i recommend lilith_morgana's works in general, because just as this one, they're always written with such love for the characters, as well as with wise, mature understanding of them.

ebasit – a different author, another character study, 12k. so far the only inquisitor!bull fic i've seen, not even on ao3, and by god it's tasty. it's adoribull and bull x josephine, but still mostly a character study. bull seems to be more serious and tough here than as a companion. there is also one thing about adoribull that'll absolutely break your heart in the best way possible.

but there's a twist is an almost 60k words modern au adoribull fic that's definitely worth checking out because i'm not overestimating when i'm saying that it's got everything. this will be painful, this will be sweet and rewarding. and the title does not lie. again, this fic seems to be just one of a kind, very glad a thing like this just exists. also, lilacsolanum is overall an amazing writer,

and vasaad proves it. i respect any fic that touches on vasaad's character because there's just so much angst potential in just a few words cole says in canon, and this one? nailed it. it's also 6k words adoribull. bull's got some baggage, bull's gotta understand that dorian's not afraid of it.

(there's also my father and his father before him from the same author, but even though it's an adoribull fic, it's more of a study of dorian. also highly recommend, gets you very invested in dorian's depressed shenanigans. also the best portrayal of halward i've seen.)

continuing with the vasaad theme, triptych is probably one of the most well-known works on this list. adoribull 41k words soulmate au. it's got such a good grasp on bull's grief. the soulmate au reality only enhances it. i was fascinated at how the system of qunari names was intertwined with the significance of names for the soulmate au. and vasaad? oh. he haunts the entire work, and frankly, it feels right.

cassandra and the chrysanthemum caper is going to be right up your alley if you enjoy older characters exploring pining and slow burning in 16k words while being rather oblivious about it. cassandra x bull, the divine and her bodyguard, and everything you can expect from these two. bonus points for bull with a disability.

stuck on the puzzle – ok, actually this one is the most well-known on this list. i don't really interact with content about cullen, and it's his pov in this cullen x bull 200k beast. but this is a very well-crafted and thoughtful work. plus, there is also an interesting exploration of characters and non-sexual bdsm. just very solid writing.

darkened room – sigh, who doesn't like good ol' ptsd-flavoured nightmares? especially when it's adoribull.

maraas kata – somehow whenever there's qunlat in the title you know it's gonna be good. i consider this to be a bull's trauma exploration. dorian and bull are visiting seheron, very bittersweet. bitter because of course, it's seheron, sweet because bull's got support, and he's not alone.

another country – and another fic from venndaai whose works are absolutely beautiful. not very long. it's adoribull, and i'm weak for time traveling. especially for meeting your loved one in the past. especially when it's this sweet and touching.

so shall it be – rather short bull x adaar, consists of a very technical approach to bondage while also being non-sexual. and it's just sweet!

also, there is some stuff i'm in the process of reading, but still enjoy and find interesting:

run home – i'm only starting reading that one, but i already know it's a high quality work that studies characters in-depth, bull x f!lavellan, bull is an adoptive father of a kid!krem, plus, it's little league au.

better angels – i'm still in the process of reading it, but so far i find it lighthearted and like writer's inquisitor and sense of humor. the plot of m!lavellan x bull losing their memory and trying to piece everything together seems interesting!

aneth ara – as it's easy to realize, i'm in the process of reading many fics. but whenever i see f!lavellan x bull exploration that's over 100k words, i just can't help myself. :) plus, i really like how it's written, it seems very well-built to me.

since it's bull, there's also a good chunk of pretty hot purely pwp stuff:

kindle and char and enflame and ignite – adoribull playing pirates. :) it's pretty lighthearted and sweet, very nice experience!

the summit shrouded in fog – this cullen x bull and x dorian will be your jam if you like more intense scenes. it explores how violent bull is and how it interacts with him being a dom among other things. that's actually not the thing i've seen discussed much before in various texts, so that's cool.

got 180 degrees (and i'm caught in between) – this is a pretty recent work on dorian x krem x bull, made me go !!! i just love krem very much.

come on, get higher – just wanted good ol' bottom!bull and i got it. this is adoribull. also, i know that justjasper created a big amount of works for adoribull in general, and afaik they all are worth checking out,

such as katoh, for example. a very touching compilation of moments between dorian and bull that are sharing the common theme of communication. i like when authors work with the watch word use, it's as important as a good scene.

rivers in the sand – i dunno how explicit it might be considered, so it goes here. adoribull, bull sees similarities between the seheron and the hissing wastes, definitely has a ptsd episode running as an app in the background. bonus points for dorian finding bull being a nerd hot because same.

anyways, thank you sooo much for asking and giving me a chance to rumble about fics i love about a character i love! sorry if i took the task way too seriously, haha. surely there can be much more even with my little experience of ao3, but i'll stop here.

#iron bull #dorian pavus #adoribull #fic rec #hope this will be useful to other folks i absolutely adore these writers and want them to have as much feedback as possible #even though some works were written years ago #my post #ask

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theluckywizard · 11 months

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Lucky's Writing Prompt Page

Hey folks thank you for coming to prompt me! I take prompts any day of the week.

I love when prompts are a little specific: character or ship + dialog or feeling prompt + situation/location/item. Feel free to mash up prompts. Throw in emojis. Whatever. Make it interesting. Constraints feed my creativity. Spicy requests welcome! Thank youuuuu!

Prompts can be for specific fic AUs: In the Shattering of Things (my DA:I long fic): Rose x Cullen, Rose x Hawke

Kiss Me Moonstruck (my DA2, Act 2 matchmaking romantic comedy romp): Rose x Hawke

My OCs: Rose Trevelyan, Garrett Hawke, Mina Cousland

Other Characters I would like to write: [Lady] Elegant, Bethany Hawke, Carver Hawke, Cullen, Cassandra, Sera, Dorian, Varric, Cole, Vivienne, Josie, Leliana, Ellendra, Blackwall

My Ships: Rose/Cullen, Rose/Hawke, Alistair/Mina, unrequited Hawke/Aveline, Cullen/Bethany Hawke

Other relationships: Hawke & Varric, Hawke & Bethany, Hawke & Carver, Hawke and the rest of the DA2 gang, Bethany & Carver all together, Cullen & Dorian, Rose & Vivienne, Rose & Sera, Rose & Josie & Leliana, Rose & Cassandra, OCs Addie & Carys (Rose's personal guards)

Prompt Lists (mash em up! give me two in one if you like! Purple are favorites for today!):

Trope Mashup Prompts

Fic Title Prompts + Setting Prompt

Han Solo Quote Prompts

Bottles of Thedas Prompts

F. Scott Fitzgerald Sentence Starter Prompts

Sleeping at Last Prompts

Niri's The Black Company Prompts

Charles Dickens Prompts

Winter is Coming Prompts

Fiona Apple Lyrics Prompts

75 Angsty Dialogue Prompts

Dema's Horrible No Good Smut Emoji Prompt Game (any difficulty)

Artifacts of Thedas Prompts

101 Ways to Say I Love You with Actions

Intimacy Prompts

Sleepy Prompts

#DADWC #Dragon Age Fan Fiction

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ringneckedpheasant · 2 years

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playlist masterpost

Dragon Age:

Alistair Theirin x m!Mahariel

Anders (oops! all The Mountain Goats)

Anders x Fenris

Cassandra Pentaghast x nb!Trevelyan

Dorian Pavus (oops! all The Mountain Goats)

Dorian Pavus x The Iron Bull

Dorian Pavus x The Iron Bull x m!Adaar

Dorian Pavus x The Iron Bull x m!Adaar but make it gay country

Josphine Montilyet x f!Lavellan

Solas x m!Lavellan

Solas x m!Lavellan Again

Friends At The Table:

Fero Feritas x Samol

Hella Varal & Hadrian, Sword of Samothes, Defender of the Undying Fire, Officer of the Order of Eternal Princes

Kal'mera Broun x Valence

Samot x Samothes

Samot x Samothes (oops! all Beach House)

Misc:

Red Dead Redemption 2

The Witcher Books

classic country but I have good taste

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anatidae-dragonage · 2 years

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Welcome to dadwc!! "I’ve no language left to say it. All I do is quake to her," from the song lyric prompts really intrigued me. Feel free to write for a pairing of your choosing!

Three months later I'm getting around to a welcome prompt! Thank you asgkghjgf. Lyrics are from “Foreigner’s God” by Hozier, which I now have spent 5 hours listening to today.

I went OC rarepair, my Delilah Surana x Magdalena Trevelyan, and then it got a little out of hand.

Set in an AU where Surana was transferred to the Ostwick Circle after the uprising and Trevelyan is now Inquisitor, successor to this piece I wrote for an exchange.

Word Count: ~1800

Rating: E for brief sexual content near the end

(More plot than porn, but it’s there.)

Pairing: f!Surana/f!Trevelyan

Warnings: Explicit/NSFW, religious themes, angst

@dadrunkwriting

The night is dark and moonless as Magdalena slips from camp, heartbeat fast in her throat. Meet me, the note had said, and nothing else. Meet me. She knows where on instinct--the fields south of the Crossroads, the last place they’d brushed lives before slipping away.

They were always meant to slip away.

She’d waited until the guards’ shift change, fleeing through the Hinterlands on silent feet. You can leave when you want now, a voice whispers in her head, the one that’s always sounded like Hers. The issue isn’t the when. It’s the where. It’s the who. She prays that Cassandra and Dorian sleep through the night. She prays that Varric, who pretends not to see, doesn’t tell. She prays she’ll make it back before sunrise.

She shivers as she finds the path that parts the trees. Somehow, it had been hard to imagine the chill in the daylight. They’d collected coats and blankets for refugees, but now Magdalena wishes she had kept one for herself. Back in Haven she has furs, a cloak hardly fit for battle, but warm and her own. She imagines Surana’s face if she’d shown up wrapped in ermine and has to smile. She doesn’t risk magic though as she shivers, nothing to warm or shield, nothing that will glow as she stumbles in the dark. Too many dangers. It’s stupid enough to be out here alone, but she just has to see her.

She just has to see her.

Silhouetted in meager starlight, Surana waits for her in the center of the field. She’s coatless too, thin robes torn and patched, frays clear even from a distance. Magdalena had pointed her to a cache, but six blankets wouldn’t have gone far through the forces she knows Surana has.

Forces. Surana would scowl to know she thinks it. There are children in their midst, Magdalena knows, and tranquil, elderly, weak. Forces. Is it the Inquisition’s influence, or what her own mind had shaped of the rebellion?

She fights the urge to run to her, fists clenched at her sides to keep from waving as she walks steady. She has hopes and dreams, and none match the tone of this meeting. Surana smiles, though, when they’re close enough to see the outlines of each other’s faces in the dark.

“You came,” Magdalena breathes, as if Surana hadn’t been the one to send the invitation.

“Have I ever lied to you?” The question hangs heavy in the air. She hasn’t. The implication is clear. Can Magdalena say the same?

“Why?” she brings herself to ask. Surana shakes her head.

I had to see you again, Magdalena wants her to say.

“I had to know if you were okay.”

She almost laughs. Okay doesn’t exist in the same realm as this world they live in. Her eyes scan the shadow of furrows in the dark. They weren’t left by plows or hoofprints. The land is bloody, scarred by magic, grenades, and untold sorrows. Okay doesn’t exist in Haven or in her friends’ eyes. There’s hope. There’s hunger. There are stolen moments of joy. Okay takes a neutrality Magdalena doesn’t know if she’s ever known.

She knows Surana hasn’t.

“Mag.” The voice cuts into her thoughts.

“I’m okay,” she says. More okay than the nightmares Surana has likely spun for her. She’s not held captive or at a Templar’s sword. She doesn’t stay up weeping, longing for home.

“Mag.”

She dosen’t want to cry tonight. Doesn’t want Surana to see her the way Delilah always had. Delilah, a name no one else had ever been allowed to use. No one but Magdalena—Mag, then, now. No one but her until the night on the hill they’d finished the job of twisting each other’s heart out and gone their separate ways.

What is this now?

They’d kissed in this field, in the full sight of Cassandra.

“Are you safe?” she asks instead of answering. Surana’s smile is wry.

“I’m safe.” Get what you give, the message is clear. She’d always been like that, a narrow and burning sense of justice. Eye for an eye, heart for a heart. They’ve both grown in the months since they’d parted, Mag knows, in the years since they’d first met, but something about the look in the other’s eyes always brings them back here.

I’d get on my knees for you, Delilah had said once, eyes wide and somehow terrified. She wouldn’t now, Mag knows, and that thought brings her something close to comfort. So many would, for the Herald of Andraste. Had those years in Ostwick’s chapel granted her blessing or curse?

Delilah had never kneeled before the Maker. She doubts Surana would start now.

Mag shakes her head to clear it, and the anchor crackles.

“It isn’t safe here,” she tells Surana as she briefly glows green, and then regrets it, not ready to be sent away.

“I know a place,” she responds though, and when she offers a hand Mag has to swallow hard. Her voice dips somewhere close to a teasing tone. “And I’ll protect you.”

Her go to phrase, but in their years in Ostwick’s Circle, who had been protecting whom?

Surana’s hand is familiar in hers, but she can feel the criss-crossing of scars left by her magic.

Your friend is a blood mage, Cassandra had said. Friend, lover, enemy. They’d never quite found a word for it.

Which would they be tonight?

Surana leads her across a sunken bridge and over a series of boulders, and Mag can hear rushing water ahead with a crisp echo. They walk upstream, silent as they balance on flat river rocks, and Mag thinks of what she’ll say.

She thought they’d said goodbye already. She thought they’d spoken their piece in the daylight.

“Here,” Surana breathes. They come to a pool, hidden behind rocks and shrouded in a waterfall. Surana drops to all fours to crawl behind it and then offers her a hand. Equal ground, Mag thinks as she too drops to her knees.

They sit on the stone and just watch. Mag wonders if Surana can hear her heartbeat, see the way her eyes fall to her lips in the dark. Let me show you, a part of her whispers. Show her what? she argues back. The feeling is unnamable and overwhelming, makes her stomach drop and her hands itch.

“You’re doing it again,” Surana says. Mag’s eyes snap back to hers—It’s dark, but she imagines them as warm and brown, in this moment the same as ever.

“Doing what?”

“Overthinking. Arguing with yourself. Arguing with your Maker.”

“That’s your job,” she answers on instinct, but Surana only shakes her head. She looks then doesn’t. She almost reaches out. “Surana….”

“Don’t call me that tonight.”

That’s all it takes to break her—the part that knows this ends one way, the part she’d tried to build stony against heartbreak. Surana—Delilah sees the pain in her eyes and moves in to kiss it away. Mag lets her tip her backward against the damp sandstone, leg swung over hers, curtain of tangled hair shielding them from the night.

“Delilah,” she whispers instead, and Delilah laughs against her lips, pulling back just enough to breathe:

“I hate it.” She kisses her. “Say it again.”

“Delilah.”

Mag knows she wants the upper hand, knows from the hunger of the kisses she presses to her lips and then her neck, knows from the tension in the arms that frame her face. She knows everything that Delilah has to say and every move she’ll say it with. And Delilah has the words Mag has never been good with, has never been brave enough for. She pushes herself up on her elbows, because this is all she can give her. This is the only way she has to say it. The only reprieve she can offer.

With gentle hands, she urges Delilah up and backwards, and through the palm on the center of her chest she can feel her heartbeat. She risks a magelight, blue and flickering, to see Delilah’s eyes. There’s none of the uncertainty she fears she’ll find there. Delilah grins, gaze flicking to the light and back to Mag again. One hand reaches up to stroke her face, but it doesn’t push her away. Down they go, Mag on top, Delilah’s hair fanned beneath them, and in a different time Mag would have washed it and combed it and braided it away. Tonight she kisses her, slow and sweet, real and unyielding.

Tonight she makes love her apology.

Tonight she lifts Delilah to the Golden City that she doesn’t believe in, before it was black and broken.

One hand cups her cheek, holds her close, holds her steady. The other moves down Delilah’s body, slipping under seams and undoing buttons. She wears the same robes she’s always worn, no surprise. Mag knows how to move them up, leave them fanned like angel’s wings, and she smiles as her fingers release the final loop. Delilah’s body is muscled now, scarred. It’s still warm and thrumming with the magic she’d never quite wanted to control.

“Ah,” Delilah gasps against her lips as her fingers squeeze her hips. “Magdalena.”

“Mag,” she insists. She is Magdalena to the Inquisition. Let her be Mag here tonight. Slowly she slips down Delilah’s body, apologetic kisses to her jawline when she leaves her lips, gentle ones that skim her throat and move down her front, over her stained robes and to where they’re parted. When she licks a trail below her navel, Delilah shivers and weaves a hand through her hair.

“Delilah,” she whispers again before dropping down. Delilah and Mag, the people they can’t afford to be.

It’s easy, returning here. As practiced as prayer. Dark and hot and honeyed, electric and raw. Delilah gasps when she comes, shaking under her lips and hands, fingers scratching against the rock instead of knotting in her hair. She pants but doesn’t make another sound.

There are tears in both of their eyes when she resurfaces.

And they don’t speak. Delilah kisses her, more gently than she ever has, and when she lays her down on the rocks she knows this is the only conversation they’ll have. The only thing that won’t drag on the hurt.

When Mag hears a bird’s song she knows it’s time to leave. Delilah seems to sense it.

“Thank you for coming,” is all she says, and when Mag stands she climbs to her feet beside her. There’s no witty comment that follows. There’s nothing sappy in reply.

Tomorrow, Mag leaves for Redcliffe, and then she leaves the Hinterlands behind. They’d already said their good lucks and goodbyes. This was extra. Salt in the wound. Honey in the pot.

“Yeah,” she says ineloquently. Their walk back down the stream is on wobbly legs. They split back near the field, Magdalena to her camp and Surana to hers.

“Wait,” Surana whispers before Magdalena turns her back. “Andraste light your path.”

Magdalena breathes deep.

“And you light yours.”

#my fic #dadwc #been thinking about Them all week #f!surana/f!trevelyan #delilah surana #magdalena trevelyan #rated e

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plisuu · 2 years

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Prompt information for @dadrunkwriting, among other things :)

Please send the full prompt (not just a number!) and pairing or character in your ask!

This Week:

Connor x Bull: Emotionally Charged Touches Will They, Won't They Pillow Talk Hozier Lyrics (Unreal Unearth) Connor x Cullen: Exes to Lovers For the Damaged Love Confessions Budding Romance Will They, Won't They Hozier Lyrics Connor x Solas: 100 Compliments 101 Ways to Say “I Love You” With Actions Hand Holding Soft & Sweet

Characters and Pairings:

My OCs:

Connor Trevelyan - Inquisitor, ex-templar, ex-tranquil, and mage. Connor is a generally stoic individual with a strong sense of duty. He has fairly anti-templar views that are muddled by his Chantry upbringing. He's a bit dry, a bit grumpy, full of angst and internal conflict, and a total softie under all the armor. Champion spec. Close friends with Solas, Vivienne, Josephine, and Cole. Cullen rivalry/romance. Hinge/V poly. Revalas Lavellan - Tal Vashoth and ex Ben-Hassarath, Revalas was raised under the Qun from infancy. After fleeing Seheron in a crisis of identity, he ended up in the Free Marches where he joined clan Lavellan and fully adopted Dalish beliefs. He works for the Inquisition as an agent under Leliana and never seems to take anything seriously. Reaver spec. Friends with the Chargers and Harding. Kitchen table poly.

Main OC Pairings:

Connor x Cullen - twin-flame, awkward idiots, rivals to begrudging co-workers to friends to lovers to exes to friends to lovers Connor x Solas - queerplatonic/romantic, deep emotional intimacy Connor x Bull - FWBs, kink-centric dynamic, "it's so complicated they outright refuse to think about the implications of their feelings" (it's not complicated, they're just stubborn) - Revalas x Bull - Two Tal-Vashoth walk into a bar but the bar is romantic feelings Revalas x Dorian - They're in looOOoOOoOoOooooove xoxo Revalas x Krem x Harding - If they're gonna get stuck on missions together all the time they may as well kiss about it

Other Pairings:

Cassandra x Solas Garrett Hawke x Cullen Garrett Hawke x Varric

Prompt Masterlist:

DA Inspired: Codex Entry prompts DA Inspired Dialogue prompts Angst: Angsty Poem Prompts Betrayal One-liners Dramatic and Protective Emotionally Charged For the Damaged Angst prompts Hidden Injury prompts Hit ‘Em Where it Hurts Angst Prompts I Said Sorry Protective prompts Secrets prompts Suspense prompts Fluff/Comfort/Love: 100 Compliments 100 Different Kisses 101 Ways to Say “I Love You” With Actions 21 I love You's Budding Romance Domestic Fluff prompts Enemies to Friends to Lovers Fluffy Dialogue prompts F. Scott Fitzgerald prompts Hand in Hand Hands and Touch Hand Holding Height-Difference prompts Intimacy prompts Little Domestic prompts Love Confessions More Kisses Noticing/Being Noticed Oblivious Idiots in Love Physical Intimacy Pillow Talk Pining prompts Soft & Sweet Sentence Starters Super Soft Intimacy Touches (both sfw & nsfw) Will They, Won’t They Smut: 100 Smut prompts NSFW prompts Whump (blanket tw: torture, abuse): 101 Quick Whump Prompts 30 Very Specific Whump Prompts Angry Whumpee Difficult Recovery Prompts Make Them Kneel (tw: graphic violence) Rethink What They Said Quotes Tarot Inspired Misc. Collections: 200 Writing prompts Hozier Lyrics Hozier Lyrics (Unreal Unearth) Micro-story starters Non-Verbal Prompts Random Sentence Starters A list of a list of prompts

#writing prompts #writing ref #dadwc

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hipsterbrigadier · 11 months

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I have a bad habit of restarting Inquisition, I think I’m going to have to make characters and align them to specific romances even if I don’t play them all. So I think this is how it’s going to go

M!Cadash x Dorian (Rogue)

F!Cadash x Sera (Warrior)

M!Adaar x Iron Bull (Mage)

F!Adaar x Blackwall (Rogue)

M!Lavellan x Cassandra (Rogue)

F!Lavellan x Solas (Mage)

M!Trevelyan x Josephine (Warrior)

F!Trevelyan x Cullen (Mage)

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #bioware #dia

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jt-boi-n7 · 7 years

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You. Guys. I can’t believe I forgot to post this. If you have a chance, you should absolutely commission @antivancorvo! She’s an exceptional talent and a joy to work with. I’m so thrilled she brought my OC to life.

#look at those two idiots #cassandra pentaghast #f!trevelyan #f!trevelyan x cassandra #trevelyan #everly trevelyan #the inquisitor #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #fanart

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mercurialmind · 4 years

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A commission done for @jt-boi-n7 of Cassandra Pentaghast and OC Everly Trevelyan ^_^

#Everly Trevelyan #cassandra pentaghast #dragon age #cassandra x f!inquisitor #jt-boi-n7 #commission #<3 #my art

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follows-swallows · 7 years

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♝: Reading a book together for the nonsexual acts of intimacy prompt! (f!TrevxCassandra please because I am WEAK! 😍)

Yeesss thank you for indulging me!! Especially with this pairing, it needs more love tbh

Keep Reading 769 words, SFWPrompt list here (give me one and i’ll love u forever)

“The Knight-Commander’s tousled blond curls felt like silk in my hands, the stubble around his mouth grazing my neck.” The Inquisitor frowned at the book, pushing her short, dark hair out of her eyes, “I thought about kissing the delicious scar above his lip- Maker’s breath, you know Varric’s writing about Cullen!”

“It’s not Cullen,” Cassandra insisted, “it’s a character loosely based on his physical appearance, completely different. Keep reading.”

Trevelyan returned to the book,

“The Commander stood back and tugged the laces of his tight trousers and his rod of love sprang free.” She rolled her eyes, “I gasped, he was so much larger than I expected.’ Blessed Andraste, please don’t make me go on.”

She liked Cullen, he was a good man, but the last thing she ever wanted to think about was his ‘rod of love’. Especially right now, with Cassandra lying next to her in bed. She wanted absolutely no rods of any description involved in this moment. “Honestly how can you read this tripe?”

“I don’t know,” Cassandra said with a laugh, shrugging her shoulders. “I like the idea of forbidden romance. Knight-Commanders were strictly forbidden from relationships with other Templars, so it makes it more romantic, more passionate.”

“I know the rules, I trained to be a Templar.” Trevelyan placed the book aside and turned to her lover. “What about Templars and Seekers?”

��That would be even worse, Seekers are supposed to be in charge of keeping corruption out of the order, to have an affair with one would be-”

“Exactly what we’re doing now.”

Cassandra frowned at Trevelyan, she loved her, but the teasing was relentless.

“You never officially joined the order, so no, we are perfectly free to… Fraternize.”

The Inquisitor laughed, a lovely sound that - due to her serious nature - wasn’t heard often enough. “I think we’ve gone beyond fraternizing.”

They kissed softly, Trevelyan’s lips tasted of lyrium, menthol and electricity and entirely intoxicating. Cassandra didn’t know what the future held for them, or if they even had a future. They could die tomorrow, or on their next expedition. Even if they survived this war the Inquisition wouldn’t be needed forever, and with her nomination for the Sunburst Throne…

No. She put those thoughts out of her mind. The here and now. That was the most important thing. With her beloved by her side, fighting for a noble cause.

“Keep reading,” she said,

“I will, but perhaps not Swords and Shields.” Trevelyan leaned to her bedside table and the small stack of books she kept there. “How about ‘The Speeches of Renata I and their Impact on the Second Exalted March’?”

“It sounds fascinating,” Cassandra said, voice laced with sarcasm, “but perhaps not right now.”

Another laugh from Trevelyan,

“Fair enough, Chantry history isn’t exactly romantic,” silence for a moment as she ran her finger down the spines of her books, pondering each title. She stopped, a red book, pages trimmed with gold. A volume of poetry she’d picked up the last time she was in Val Royeaux. She quickly glanced at the Seeker, she was relaxing on the pillows, eyes closed.

Trevelyan picked up the book and turned to her most recent page,

“Busy old fool, unruly sun,Why dost thou thus,”

Cassandra smiled. She knew this one. It was a favourite,

“Through windows, and through curtains call on us?” She continued, “keep reading,”

“Must to thy motions lovers seasons run?” Trevelyan read. By the end of the poem Cassandra’s breathing had slowed, an arm tucked beneath her pillow.

“Keep reading…” she mumbled.

Trevelyan flipped the page,

“All Kings, and all their favourites,all glory of honours, beauties, wits,”

She’d expected Cassandra to be asleep by the end of the second poem, but a murmur from beneath the quilt beside her told her to keep going. Another page.

“When my grave is broken up again,” Trevelyan yawned, she hadn’t realized how late it had become. The moon was full, hanging low over the Frostbacks,

“Then, he that digs us up, will bring us to the Bishop, and the King, to make us relics,”

The fire in the hearth was still smouldering, casting a soft glow around the room, the warmth of the embers, the bed, the woman lying beside her…

“First, we lov’d well and faithfully,yet know not what we lov’d, nor why,”

Had her eyelids always been this heavy?

“These miracles we did, but now alas,”

The words on the page slipped in and out of focus,

“All measure, and all language, I should pass,”

Have to keep reading…

“Should I tell what a miracle she was.”

The poems I used are The Sun Rising, The Anniversary, and The Relic, all by John Donne.

#my trash writing #f!trevelyan x cassandra #fem!trevelyan x Cassandra #fanfic

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natsora · 10 months

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Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cassandra Pentaghast Characters: Cassandra Pentaghast, Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Female Trevelyan (Dragon Age), Trevelyan Family (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Whump, Hurt/Comfort, ace inquisitor, Angst, Heavy Angst, Trevelyan Siblings, Ace main character, Major Character Injury, Healing, Recovery Series: Part 11 of The Sword and The Scabbard Summary:

Skyhold welcomes the King of Ferelden and the Empress of Orlais. As Trev plays host to nobles, her brothers make an unexpected appearance. Bann Trevelyan, her oldest brother, has made her a match to the Prince of Starkhaven. As Trev struggles between family and being Inquisitor, the long hand of Corypheus has reached Skyhold. And nobody is safe.

#Dragon age #cassandra pentaghast #Cassandra/Female Inquisitor #Cassandra x Female Inquisitor #f!Inquisitor #F!Trevelyan #OC: Lexington Trevelyan

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herald-divine-hell · 5 years

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A Melody of Peace

A/N: So, this isn’t the best fanfic that I ever wrote - not by a long shot. But I did write it, and that’s all what matters, right? I do plan to write a fic with Amayian and Leliana, but he’s such a hard character to write that it’s going to take me a while to get into that sort of writing style that is needed with him and his character. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this. It’s a bit angsty, but sweet, I think. Also, special thanks to @noeldressary for doing a little quick over of this fanfic.

Summary: Alexandra anguishes and Leliana pities.

Smoke bellowed into the air in thick, twirling puffs of twisted black-gray smoke in the hazy, cloud-filled sky. A red flare slashed through the distant horizon, spreading in heavy waves of crimson that seared the purple-black sky and left in dimming with every pulse and growth. Leliana smelt the scent of burnt corpses and lurid flames in the air, growing thicker and heavier with every passing moment.

Alexandra sat straight on the saddle of her horse, shoulders drawn clenched and tight. Her mane of shadowy-black hair lashed in dancing waves with the warm gusts of wind that combed through the fields of dying green and stained crimson. The Orlesian countryside was bare and lonely, with the grass dancing with a sorrowful song that came from the low-moaning winds. The hills rose and fell like solid waves, topped with a grassy coat of gold and green that was darkened with shadows that spread over the rolling mounds like a clasping, dark hand. Cassandra and Viveanne flanked the Inquisitor’s sides, with Leliana at the rear.

The wind whistled through the air and her hands clenched tightly at her reins. Her horse neighed and whined, throwing back its russet-brown mane in annoyance. They were traveling to Val Royeaux, to meet with the Empress and the remaining Grand Clerics who could bare to listen to the Inquisition. It had been Alexandra who suggested the trip. “The people need to see their savior, and they need to see if Justinia’s memory still lives on through her former Hands.” She had been smiling, but it seemed tense and tight, like how her shoulders were with every step of her horse.

They passed into a village scorned and burnt black with dying amber embers that covered bundling, dimly-lit flames. Thatch-wooden roofs caved and fell into small homes abandoned and forgotten. Few corpses littered the streets. Most were twisted and broken, with twisted faces and entrails seemingly scooped out by the raiders. The ash-and-blood stained mud road was soft underneath the hooves of Leliana’s horse, as if the entire foundation of the village had been built upon soft flesh and seeped blood.

When Alexandra turned her reins, pulling her horse to a quick stop, Leliana caught the despair and wraith that burned harsh, bright, and cold in her golden-green eyes. The ravaging, hard green flames lurid and thrashed beneath the surface, leaving the gold in her eyes burning. For a brief moment, terror grasped Leliana’s heart in a tight, unforgivable grip. She had seen the Free Marcher angered before, and saw the rising, unfurling power that came in and out from her eyes and voice. But the flames in Alexandra’s eyes were more than rage...it was as if the Maker had taken hold of her, enfolding His power within the mage to amplify the condemnation that she bore for the ravagers of such a small, insignificant village. An icy touch, infused with the wraith of a forest fire, coursed through the air, shimmering sharply in a green-golden aura around the Herald before bellowing in thick waves. With a sharp tug of her reins, Alexandra kicked the sides of her horse and fled with a trot, leaving the air thick with smoldering, pulsing magic.

The others watched as Alexandra continued along the path, riding down as it twisted sharply to the left. It was Vivienne who spoke, watching as the Inquisitor dwindled into the darkness. “We should have went by sea.” There was no scorn in the First Enchanter’s voice, though those who did not know de Fer, you would have thought her tone was tinged with insufferable annoyance at the Inquisitor’s huff. Her eyes were glazed, distant and sad, as for a moment the appearance of Madame de Fer mattered little in a place of such death and sorrow.

And yet, Alexandra would still have demanded we came this way. Leliana turned her gaze to the unfurling, soften road. You sweet, foolish girl.

Cassandra’s jaw was clenched. “It’s too late,” she grunted. “Lets go, before we lose sight of her.”

Passing through the burning, collapsed village, the black smoke grew thicker, crawling and thrashing into the sky, leaving a haze of shadows to lick the remaining light of dusk overhead. The blackened ash covered both sides of the path, with broken windows and fallen walls crusted by ebony that leaned and crumbled into heaps of wooden planks and stone. A storm came, and it left nothing but blackened mounds that smelled of rotting and burnt flesh.

The pathway opened up into a wide clearing of rolling hills of swaying green. The ochre dome was still tarnished with a smear of ink-black, spreading. Bustling softly with warning cracks of thunder, the clouds heaved and tumbled over one another like battling lions. In the far distant, shimmering faintly with the green-golden aura, Alexandra stood upon a rising hill that sloped softly eastward. When they neared her, Leliana had to fight back a shiver at the darkened look that the Inquisitor shot toward the village. Eyes hazed and fogged with a heavy mist, Leliana could see little of the brilliant green and gold. They seemed lost in a chasm of endless, twirling gloom. Her hands itched to push away a rogue strand of black hair that swirled across her eye madly. “Onward,” said Alexandra, in a forced chipper that couldn’t even fool a goat. “Let’s hope we can find a place that isn’t eternally cast in shadows.” Without waiting for a response, Alexandra sent her horse in a gallop, the hooves meeting the earth shouted like a roar.

They found a decent place to set up camp further up the road, enough away from the gnawing smoke that the stars could be dinstantly shimmering in the dark black-blue sky, like perched flickering candles of white light, in a grove with a shivering waterfall that pooled into a rippling lake. Walls of rounded, misshapen rocks covered in moss rose high and looming; and they chose to cover the entrance way with a veil of knitted pale green leaves, strung with magic.

Streams of silver light poured through the open ceiling, faintly covering the grass in a pale-washed sheen. The pond rippled lightly as the moonlight twinkled softly over its surface, like a shimmering blade. Alexandra rested on a jutting rock, smoothed and layered with heavy dark green moss. She had tugged off her jerkin of boiled leather, and she rolled her sleeves until they bundled a little past her elbows. Her staff rested at her side, shining with a sphere of crystal-white light, casting away the lurking shadows. Cassandra and Vivienne had already returned - the former more reluctant to give the turbulent Inquisitor the first watch. It had taken a command to get the Seeker to relinquish her duties and head to bed, and she did with all the grace of a huffing child.

Leliana combed her fingers through her hair, slick with the water from the pond. Shivering slightly from the cool night wind, Leliana drew the cloak that she had kept with her closer around her shoulders. Alexandra glanced up at when the Spymaster drew near, crushing the soft grass beneath her feet. The bath had been more than what Leliana had expected. It was a moment of unparalleled peace - a brief step into a world of tranquility that often escaped her day and night. The water had lapped at her shoulders, with the tenderness of a gentle lover. It did not help that Alexandra had been only a few feet away from her. So near. I could had pulled her in. The Inquisitor might had grumbled, but that would have soon fell away to an eager, captivating laughter. She always did find a way to laugh even in the most dire of circumstances. Leliana did not know if she adored that about her love, or fret even more for her because of it. She wears her mask well - too well, even. But even masks must be taken off for the briefest of moments. And she had grown to read Alexandra during those times, more than even the Spymaster had expected. Her charm and brilliance was no mask; it was merely an amplifier to the woman that was Alexandra Trevelyan.

But, like a story, a single page or two did not mean it was the whole story. There was more to the daughter of House Trevelyan that even Alexandra would not like to know. A sense of desperation seemed to fuel her desires and ambitions; a hidden world of torment and terror clung to her shadow; and her smile was a thousand words that she wanted to reveal, and a thousand words that she did not. Yet, what that is, even I don’t know. Her beloved was not person who shrouded herself in secrets. Her words were often marred with a frank and bluntness that conflicted with her air of seductive elegance. If Alexandra could speak with eloquence unrivaled by none, then her words, though pretty and alluring they were, held an unparalleled sense of truth in forms of double meanings and false sense of deceptions. Alexandra plays the Game, yet crafts it to her own liking at the same time. She smiles and dances, but she leds and all follow, ever seeking to catch up. Leliana could not deny the bubble of pride that tickled at her chest, but a tinge of something else flickered as well. And what if I can’t? She pushed that thought away with a hard shove.

Alexandra was smiling when Leliana reached her, green-golden eyes only dimly glistening through the hazy fog. Dark bags tugged beneath her eyes, and she had pinched the strands that helped up the collar of her blouse, revealing pale skin, shining lightly with the caress of the silver light. Leliana swallowed, flickering her eyes away. The smile on Alexandra’s lips was both charming and infuriating. She was half of mind to kiss that quick smile, and to put it to better use. A warmth pricked her cheeks, and Leliana hid it by settling down beside her love, shrouding her face in her veil of copper hair.

A scent of vanilla filled her senses, light and soft, dancing in the night air. It was a sweet smell, one that calmed the tightness of her nerves. Even in the safety of star-dotted sky, Leliana’s eyes darted back and fro from left-covered entrance way. Her fingers itched for her bow, maybe even some daggers.

“I don’t enjoy this as much as you think, Leli,” said Alexandra, voice strained and tired, though tinged with a soft allure.

When Leliana turned to her, her heart sank, tumbling into a chasm of sharp and jagged steel that tore it to shreds. Alexandra’s head was thrown back, eyes closed and brows knitted. Black curls bellowed like shadowy-waves down to nearly kiss the earth. “Which part?” Leliana asked, though she already knew the answer.

Alexandra’s golden-green eyes were once more shrouded in that thickening, rage-filled fog, blackening and harsh. “We should have sent men there. Surely we have enough. A battalion, at the least.” For a flicker of a moment, Alexandra’s smile had faltered. Leliana found her frown unsettling, unfamilared filled with lost and unfailing anguish. “A battalion, at the least,” whispered Alexandra. “At the least…”

“Even we don’t have the resources to secure the entirety of Orlais and Ferelden. That’s Empress Celene’s duty, not ours.”

The pain in her eyes spoke more volumes than Leliana would had expected. It would had been best to leave it unspoken, her eyes seemed to argue. There was no charade when it came to Alexandra’s generosity in giving alms to the poor; no false smile that she weaved out of sweet lies. Something tranquil often glimmered vividly in those green and golden eyes whenever a hand was stretched out to take an ill elf’s thin hand into her own—almost beatific, in a way. But Alexandra said nothing as she turned to press one finger against the other. The soft light of the moon left her white ivory skin shimmering. A light bonnet of a silvery sheen streaked her dark locks, leaving the curls glistening with pale highlights.

Leliana watched as Alexandra played with her fingers, her shoulders slumping and her frown growing. She watched as Alexandra rested her hands upon the earth, a light cover of white-blue forest spread thickly over the grass. Her hand moved without her permission, resting on top of Alexandra’s and fingers curling around the broadness of the back of it. Squeezing it gentle, Leliana could feel the coldness of her magic against her palm, prickling her skin. She heard Alexandra gasp, but made no move to pull away. Leliana did not know why she did what she did—if by mere compulsion or something else, but it was not terrible feeling. Alexandra’s hand was firm and callous, with her long, nimble, elegant fingers buzzing with magic beneath her skin, like pulsing blood.

A warmth burned in Leliana’s cheeks. It was not the first time, she would admit, that her mind wandered to Alexandra’s fingers. She knows how to use them well. Staring at the Inquisitor in the corner of her eye, Leliana brought her bottom lip between her teeth, nibbling it softly. Perhaps that was what Alexandra needed right now...a distraction. A world away from the blood and carnage that she witnessed on often. As she gave me that world. Alexandra was generous in her affections, always willing to give, even if there was a sense of teasing that often lingered in her smile and glimmering in her eyes.

Alexandra had leaned closer, the ice thawing beneath her hand. The grass was left wet and damp as it crumbled against the new cold water. Leliana could feel it brush against her fingers, lapping gentle as it spread through the dirt and strands of green. She felt the mane of curls brush against Leliana’s cheek as Alexandra rested her head on her shoulder. “You need a distraction,” said Leliana, softly.

The Inquisitor hummed, almost amused. “What do you suggest?” The quietness of her voice had cleared, returning to the teasing tone that Leliana was fond of.

“I have a few ideas.” A warmth bubbled and formed at Leliana’s naval, spreading down her thighs.

Alexandra rushed up swiftly, swapping her staff into her hand. “Come.” Her voice seemed a few octaves higher. “I’d like to hear all of your ideas.” There was a twinkle in Alexandra’s eyes, dispelling the fog that had once laden heavily over the brilliant green-gold. She outstretched her hand.

Leliana tapped her bottom lip, a smile curling at the corners. “All of my ideas?” She allowed her gaze to wander up and down Alexandra’s body, taking in the curves of her hips and breasts, the flatness of her stomach, and the gentle muscle of her arms and legs. It lingered for a brief moment at the revealing skin at her neck, and Leliana swallowed. “Will we have time, I wonder?”

She was pulled up from the earth and into Alexandra’s arms. The smirk that played on the Free Marcher’s lips were both endearing and frustratingly arousing, brimming with a renewed confidence. “There’s only one way to find out,” whispered Alexandra. Her lips grazed over Leliana’s, light and fleeting and teasing.

“Yes,” Leliana said, breathless. Her hand reached forward, combing through the black curls of Alexandra’s hair, “there is.” Standing on her tippy-toes, Leliana pressed her lips flushed against her love, a soft moan passing her lips. And she had almost forgotten the sweetest tranquility of all: the touch of another loving person.

And her heart soared from that chasm of darkness into a blossoming sky of golden light.

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