Inquisitor Astoria

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Unhinged Text Posts: Carver Hawke Edition (Part 4)

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Hey, I managed a second one-shot! Another combined prompt, this is for Day Four: Exploration and Day Six: Mourning.

Scar Tissue

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Cullen Rutherford x F! Lavellan

Word Count: 2,211

Notable Tags: POV Cullen Rutherford, Flashbacks, Cullen Rutherford Has Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Battle Scars Discussion, Post-Coital Pillow Talk, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mage-Templar Relationships, Name Undefined Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Kissing It Better, Cullen Rutherford in Love, Almost Smut, Cullen Rutherford's Lip Scar, Lorebuilding

"Was this an arrow wound?"

Her hands were playing softly over the skin of Cullen's arm as they dozed together in the fading light pouring in from an open balcony door. Safely ensconced in her quarters and happily tangled up in each other in the afterglow of her return to Skyhold, he could scarce understand how he'd earned the good fortune to be here—laying abed with his lover in his arms. Lavellan's lithe body curled into his, her head tucked under his chin and her leg thrown easily over his hip, their sweat-damp skin cooling from the faintest movement of chill mountain air from outside. Her slender fingers toyed with the golden hair on his arm, utterly fascinated as she was by the myriad differences between human and elven bodies. How amusing was her wonder, how endearing!

Cullen looked to the diamond-shaped scar in question halfway up his bicep.

"Yes, it was," he smoothed his palm over her hip as he spoke, because even he could admit that moments like this—touches like this—had been what he missed most while Lavellan was away, "That is from my first field outing, after my assignment to Ferelden Circle. One of the mage apprentices there had a knack for… well. Perhaps that's a tale for another time. Needless to say, the other greenhorn knight who came with us could have stood for much more practice before declaring herself an archer."

Her smile crinkled the corners of her vibrant eyes, setting her willowy vallaslin to dancing. It warmed him through to see it.

"Are all of your scars accompanied by similar stories?"

Full edit, minor changes! No major scene added. Only one chapter left to go!

Summary: In which the Commander understands Sister Eve more, but at what cost?

Curiosity killed the nug.

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Our secret moments in a crowded room, they got no idea about me and you. There is an indentation in the shape of you. Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo. All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation, my hands are shaking from holding back from you. ❤️‍🔥

Dress by Taylor Swift

Hanan Lavellan (she/her) x Cassandra Pentaghast

The Light You Still Hold

Relationships: Cullen/Female Mage Trevelyan Rating: Explicit Chapter: 42: Inkstained I Word Count: 259,324 Fic Tags: slow burn, yearning, friends to lovers, herald trevelyan, inquisitor hawke, plus size FMC

read on ao3

Convincing the Inquisition of her innocence was hard enough when she was newly marked, let alone a month after fleeing from their custody. Ophelia Trevelyan has no wish for history to remember her as just one more mage to ruin the world, but when her choices are stay and die or run and live, she knows which option to pick. She doesn’t know how she’ll convince the Inquisition to believe her this time, but maybe closing the rifts and making friends with them all is a start. ft. non-Inquisitor Trevelyan. Slow burn. Friends to lovers.

A spell shot towards him in a shade of sickly orange, one which cut clear through a still smoldering curtain. It fell with a heavy thump, upending a vase.

Cullen twisted around the pillar and sprinted down the vestibule. The railing was too narrow a shield, and he used pillars and vases. All around him was a slow retreat, and opponents in all directions. Nor could he tell who was ally in need of assistance, and who was an enemy still. He settled against the railing with a grimace, catching his breath. Sitting here left him an easy target, and the allies he knew were too far. If he—

A shadow fell over him as a rogue extracted himself from the darkness. Cullen jolted out of the way, tense, preparing to spring. Their blade struck the pillar near him, and the person wasted no time in recovering, abandoning one blade for another at their belt, lunging for him.

Someone materialized between them. Cullen lurched away, avoiding a collision course with Cole, who cut through their enemy without a flinch. Blood coated and pale, Cole stared, unnerving eyes latched on him. “You—"Cullen faltered, unable to summon a decent reply.

The shiver of another spell struck near their heads. Cullen flinched, but Cole remained steady, unbothered, expression distant and then, finally, focused on him with a disquietening intensity. “Not hiding anymore,” said Cole. “Not hiding, not running. Facing forward with a head held high. Don’t let this be a mistake.”

“Speak plainly,” he said, uneasy, shaking off the usual discomfort that came when speaking with Cole. He yanked on his collar, irked at the tightness around his throat. Blood trailed down his wrist, soaking into the fabric of his sleeve. His sweat slick hair stuck to his neck, freed from the pomade at last.

Cole didn’t clarify. He rarely did. “You worry. You shouldn’t. I will be there.”

Baffled, Cullen found no reply before Cole was gone.

DA Kiss Week- Injury